#it was a good talk but it was also a little wearying bc while i agree w everything that's said (including do not forget ur whimsy! play!)

[sttoru]

‘and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. .’ — kate bush

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x wife!reader. fluff to angst (no comfort). spoilers chapter 261. reader’s pregnant. major character death. mentions of blood, death. nicknames ‘pretty, sweets’. not proofread bcs i couldn't through the tears. i cried nine times writing this so.. good luck! wc: 3.6k

“he’s kicking again,” satoru chuckles excitedly. he’s been clinging onto you ever since you got back from your doctor’s appointment. your baby boy is growing up healthy and there don’t seem to be any complications.

you smile and rest back against the velvety pillows. you’re enjoying the affection you’re receiving, the kisses and nuzzles against your swollen tummy makes every bit of suffering worth it. your husband is going to be an amazing dad, that you can tell.

“hey, little guy—don’t give ya mommy a tough time,” satoru huffs and gently taps the side of your stomach that was last kicked by the unborn baby, “that’s my wife, y’know?” you giggle at the scene in front of you and close your eyes, relaxing your body.

a comfortable silence hangs in the room. satoru’s warm hands cupping and rubbing your round stomach add to the tranquil atmosphere. the weight of your husband’s head presses onto the front of your plump belly—ear pressed against the stretched skin as if expecting to hear your baby boy talk.

after a while, you open your eyes. you hear a sniff and then the usual silence follows. you look down at satoru settled between your legs, hugging your waist and resting his cheek on your tummy. he’s awfully quiet and you’re unable to see his eyes because of his bangs.

“toru, everything okay?” you carefully ask. your voice comforts him for the next couple seconds, before his muscles tense up once more. satoru tries his best to seem unaffected by the many thoughts scurrying through his head.

“mhm,” your husband nods and forces a small smile. though, he can’t keep the facade up any longer. the longer you’re pregnant, the more worried he gets about a certain something; something that’s been bothering him ever since.

it’s the reason why he doubted even having kids in the first place.

“i—well. i don’t know, sweets,” satoru sighs. a deep sigh that shatters the mask he’s had on for so long. his brows furrow and his eyes dart from one place to the other. his fingers stop their movements on your stomach. they curl around the material of your shirt instead; showing a clear sense of vulnerability.

satoru seems. . . afraid, yet also angry. perhaps at himself, perhaps at the world. you don’t utter a single word. if there’s anything you want, it’s for your husband to speak about his inner turmoil freely. you’re the only person who he can have such emotional conversations with—the only person he can be himself with.

the real gojo satoru.

not the strongest.

that’s why you’re not surprised when satoru opens his mouth to confess the inevitable to you. “i’m scared,” his voice cracks. it’s a faint change in tone, but it is noticeable to you. you’ve been his lover for long enough to notice every minuscule thing.

the white-haired man lets out another sigh. you brush his soft bangs out of his eyes and instantly notice the sudden weariness in them. normally, those beautiful blue eyes shine brightly, yet that light has now dimmed.

you pat his head and satoru immediately leans into your touch. you allow him to process his own emotions and words before speaking up.

“scared?” you ask quietly and carefully, giving your husband space to explain.

satoru nods. there are a thousand thoughts running through his mind. all those thoughts he’s tried to suppress since the day you’ve announced your pregnancy. maybe even before that—at the day of your wedding.

he’s sat down with you a few months into the marriage, to have the talk about kids. he seemed to be delighted to have children with you, however there have always been some dark and hidden thoughts lingering in the back of his mind.

the sorcerer has chosen to ignore them for the longest time. he’s been trying to convince himself that he has nothing to worry about. you’re going to be fantastic parents and your children are going to be extremely loved.

the day you surprised him with your pregnancy, was like a dream. satoru cried - which he rarely does - so it was an emotional night for both of you. neither of you could wait to meet your child—happy with whatever gender.

despite all of the optimism and enthusiasm, satoru’s struggles with his inner thoughts have not yet ended. he doesn’t want to bother you with it. you seem so content and he does not want to ruin that at all.

but even the strongest without limits has to reach a breaking point.

“yeah,” satoru speaks up, his voice hoarse. he kisses your belly button, hoping his child doesn’t pick up on his distress somehow. your husband closes his eyes as he places his forehead against your tummy, praying that the heavens above hear his pleas, “i don’t want our kid to inherit my cursed techniques. at all.”

your hand doesn’t stop stroking satoru’s hair. you don’t flinch at his words, nor do you immediately discard his worries. in all honestly, you’ve shared the same feelings before getting pregnant.

you know how satoru’s treated by the jujutsu society. it’s dehumanising how he’s seen as a weapon of some sorts. a weapon that could solve all problems—one that cannot rest until its duty is done.

you despise it. you’ve told satoru about your hatred for the toxic society, even going as far as asking him to move to a different country without telling anyone. you’re sick and tired. you can’t recall the amount of times that you’ve cried alone, in the bathroom, after you’ve seen the state your lover comes back home in.

the white-haired man always seems so tired. his eyes and head hurt because of them overusing his cursed techniques. there are even days where satoru doesn’t put his blindfold or sunglasses off at home.

and when you try to talk to him about it, satoru simply assures you that ‘he’ll be fine’. you believe him in the moment, but you don’t know for how long you’ll be able to keep that trust.

you’re letting him break, slowly yet surely, right in front of you. he’s working himself to his demise. it’s nothing out of the ordinary to not want the same for your child.

though, you’re sure that it’ll be fine even if your baby boy inherits satoru’s techniques. that’s because you two are going to protect him with all you have. no one is going to treat your child like a weapon—not while the both of you are still alive.

“i don’t want our child to take over the burden i carry,” satoru continues. his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. he��s already thinking about all the possibilities that can follow with the birth of your son.

he can hide his child from the world, but wouldn’t that be too restrictive? he can keep an eye on him every second of the day, but wouldn’t that be overprotective?

you notice satoru’s internal state of panic increasing, so you quickly cup his face. you lean down and press a firm kiss against his lips, to which he instantly responds. his breath hitches and he sits up on the mattress, deepening the kiss as his hands hold you by the back of your head.

he needs this—you—more than anything else in the world. if it wasn’t for you, he’d have lost his sanity long ago.

you pull back after a good minute and pant. you chuckle as you notice the slight pout on satoru’s lips. he never seems satisfied with just one kiss, which is adorable. you coo and pepper his face with small pecks, “aww.”

it’s comforting to the sorcerer. he closes his eyes and his mouth forms a small smile. you’re doing an amazing job at calming him down. satoru’s muscles relax and he finds himself nestled between your legs soon enough.

you realise that he’s still somewhat afraid for the future of his child by the way he’s playing with your shirt. his head lays on your chest and his long fingers trace shapes on your exposed skin.

“i know, honey, i know,” you murmur against the top of his head. you massage satoru’s scalp gently, nearly making him purr because of how incredible that feels. you stare at the ceiling and continue your little talk.

“i’ve thought about all of it too,” your fingers find his undercut, playing with the little hairs. all you can hope for is that your partner stresses less about the outcome of your pregnancy.

if you can do one thing for him, it’d be that. reassuring him that you’ll both do your best for your child will surely put him at ease. your husband has enough to worry about anyway.

you want to share that burden. you don’t want him to carry the world on his shoulders alone—he’s got you for that now.

“but i think that our son will be fine. why? because he’s got you,” you smile and kiss satoru’s forehead. it’s his favorite type of kiss and it works wonders when you comfort him. his ocean eyes regain their sparkle, both because of your unconditional love and trust in his parenting skills, “our boy will grow up fine and protected because he’s got you as his amazing dad, yeah?”

satoru takes some time to let your words sink in. your trust in him is a beautiful thing. of course, he’ll protect his kid no matter what. both you and his kid will be safe for as long as he’s alive. you’re going to be a happy family—one that he’s always dreamed of having.

he isn’t going to raise his child to be the strongest. he isn’t going to raise his child as an heir to the throne. he isn’t going to raise his child as his legacy. he isn’t going to raise his child as a tool.

his son will have a normal childhood and he will guarantee that. satoru will give his kid what he didn’t have as a child himself;

unconditional love and support for whatever his son wishes to become.

satoru raises his head and leans in to kiss you, hugging you to himself. he adores you so much, you’re all he needs to feel like he can do anything and everything all at once.

carrying the world on his shoulders so you can live peacefully in it is all satoru does it for.

“heh, damn right. i’ll be the best husband and dad ever.”

. . .

but in the end, your dreams are just dreams, right?

an escape from reality, that’s all dreams really are. all those times you’ve sat together to pick the furniture you want to place in the nursery, to paint the room a baby blue, to buy clothes and toys, diapers and carriers, to giggle about the places you would love to visit as a family, to think about possible baby names, to joke about whether your son will say ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ first — all of it were naive, hopeful dreams.

perhaps you were too caught up in them to realise that reality will hit when least expected.

satoru and you have lived in your own bubble—your own little fantasy world where tragic fates does not exist. no one in this planet would suffer if life worked that way.

no one on this planet would have to pick up the phone and have their world shatter, their dream bubble pop. to have all hope lost in the span of a second.

grief is a scary thing. it’s devastating and it will consume you whole. you don’t realise that until you experience it firsthand. losing someone close to you will break you in half. it’s a punch to the gut.

especially if it’s your husband. someone you considered your partner—who’s promised you to be together forever. maybe those promises were also a part of your fantasy.

maybe they were also but a beautiful lie.

your footsteps feel heavy. you don’t have any energy left in you. every drop has been drained from you the moment you heard the news over the phone. your eyes and head hurt, both feeling like they’re going to burst. you don’t want to accept any of this.

the faces of the people around you are a blur. they’re all holding their head low, their hands gathered in front of them to show respect. no one speaks—all the room is filled with are your sobs. the loud cries you let out in hopes that they wake you up from this absolute nightmare.

you drag your feet to the examination table in the middle of the room. tears continue to blur your vision, though surely, you can confirm the outline of the body laying underneath the blanket.

how could you not recognise the person you thought you’d spend eternity with?

it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. . .

“satoru.” your voice is barely audible. your hands are shaking and your face is stained with endless streams of tears. you stand at the side of the table and you instantly curl your fingers around the edge.

seeing that face from up close hits different. usually, it’d have your stomach fill with a feeling of delight, yet now all you feel when looking at it is unimaginable dread.

the blood on the corners of his mouth. the blanket that’s hiding whatever is left of him from below the waist. the dull eyes that once stared at you with hope and love. those dried lips that normally shone with a layer of gloss.

god, it’s awful. you don’t want this to be true. you’re still waiting to be woken up by your husband. so he can hold you close and hug you, whisper sweet nothings and reassure you that he’d never leave you alone in a savage world like this.

your shaky fingers reach out to his right hand. his skin feels cold and his hand doesn’t hold yours back. your breath hitches and you let out a long, devastating cry. it sounds like a scream for help as your body crumbles—falling to your knees whilst you tightly grip your lover’s limp hand.

“no, god no, please!” you cover your mouth with your free hand, nearly hyperventilating from pure pain. you feel like your heart is going to give up on you. it’s breaking into a million pieces, as does your future. you can’t live without him—you can't do it.

satoru is the sole reason you’ve held out for so long. you were each other’s support system. you can’t do any of this on your own. you can’t breathe properly—your body doesn’t let you.

not until you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. you can guess that it’s shoko, but you’re too distraught to even pay attention to her. you lift yourself up by holding onto the edge of the table, your legs shaking. you sniffle and sob uncontrollably.

you reach out to touch satoru’s lifeless face, as gentle as you always do. you flinch when you feel just how cold his body is—the usual warmth that would comfort you gone, nowhere to be found. you don’t get a reaction from him when you touch his cheeks.

it only serves to remind you of the tragic events that unveiled. you’re still in denial, but the moment feels real. your brain is slowly yet surely processing the information. though, you don’t want it to. you want to live in a world where you grow old with your husband.

where your child is going to grow up with a father figure at home.

“satoru, come back to me.. to us, please,” you beg and beg, hoping he smiles and sits up, telling you that it’s just one of his silly pranks again. when none of that happens, you feel yourself become more hopeless. you hunch over him and cup his face. the same face that would light up whenever you’d touch it.

you hiccup and wail, unable to breathe. you rub his cheekbones with your thumbs, settling your forehead against his. your tears fall underneath his eyes and slide down his temples, making it seem like he’s crying with you.

you wait for satoru to respond, but he doesn’t. there’s an eerie silence on his part and you’re panicking. you need him to comfort you, but he isn’t there to do that anymore. you’re left alone, all alone.

“i can’t do this without you—we can’t do this without you,” you stammer between sobs. you can’t go through life, knowing satoru isn’t going to be there for you. he isn’t going to come home anymore. he isn’t going to cuddle you to sleep anymore. he isn’t going to experience what it’s like to have a family of his own. he isn't going to be able to hold his child and to play with him.

you blame life for being unfair—always taking away the people who don’t deserve it. satoru hasn’t done anything to deserve this. he just.. existed. his fate of becoming the strongest, decided at his birth, is what has lead to his death.

you continue to sob to yourself. you refuse to acknowledge anything or anyone else in the room. you’re solely focused on your husband. or rather, what’s left of him.

remembering how excited satoru was to spend the rest of his life with you and your future children pains you all the more. he’s been stripped from a normal life. you’ve tried your hardest to give him that said normal life, yet your hopeful dreams have gotten you nowhere.

you wipe your tears away for the first time in a while. your grief is making you delusional—disoriented to the point you try to make yourself feel better. you force a smile and hold tightly onto satoru’s limp hand, trying to speak through your quiet sniffles.

“o-our boy is gonna be born soon,” you chuckle bitterly and place satoru’s hand on your belly. it’s gotten bigger over the months and you’re already eight months along. he was so close to meeting your child—so close. yet his tragic destiny did not allow him to.

you hope he’s been happy with you for as long as he lived. you hope you’ve somewhat relieved him from his misery for as long as he lived. that burden he carried, the world he carried on his shoulders. . . it doesn’t seem to want to detach from him. even after death.

you press a deep kiss against his forehead. satoru’s favorite spot to be kissed at, you remember. you wish he feels it in the afterlife; wherever he may he. as long as he’s in a better place now, one that treats him well. this current world has been too cruel on him. it doesn’t deserve to home someone like your husband.

“i wish you were here to see your son. to see our baby grow up, you'd be so proud, honey,” you kiss satoru’s forehead again. it’s all you can do stop yourself from losing it completely. you know satoru would tell you to be strong, for his sake. for your unborn son.

“i’m going to tell him all about you, ‘kay? i'm going to tell him about how awesome his dad was,” your voice breaks for the nth time. you’re still in the first stage of grief, though you try to seem strong in case satoru is watching from somewhere.

that’s what he did when he was the one going through a tough time. he’d act brave and fine, putting on a mask to make you worry less, telling you all kinds of reassuring words while he was suffering internally.

now it’s your turn to safely send his soul off to the afterlife. to let satoru pass away in peace, with him knowing that you’re going to live on for him and for your child. it’s the least you can do at the moment.

you put on a brave face, staring into his lifeless eyes, smiling through the unbearable pain. you’re sure he’s still listening to you from somewhere. satoru’s always told you that your voice is soothing, so you do your best to calm his soul and reassure him that it’s fine for him to rest.

“i’ll do my best to raise him, yeah? so you.. you just rest.”

rest was a foreign word to the sorcerer. this world didn’t give him an ounce of peace. he’d either be overworked by his family or the jujutsu society, and if it isn’t work, his inherited techniques were slowly killing his brain and body.

you’re praying that satoru has none of that in the afterlife. you’re praying that he can live a normal life, eternally. so that when you join him one day, you both won’t have to suffer nor share the burden. you can live out your dreams without anyone interrupting.

not even fate.

“you deserve to rest. you really do,” you sigh.

soon enough, you feel yourself crumble again. you burst out in tears once you realise that he’s actually never coming back to you in this life. you bury your face in the crook of his neck and sob loudly, not holding back your emotions anymore. you just can’t—you can’t act brave when your second half has been taken away from you so suddenly.

you hope that you succeeded into sending him off without any worries. you can’t help but continue rambling to yourself, “i’m going to miss you s’much. oh, my baby.”

you lift your head back and stare into satoru’s eyes once more. did he think about you when he was on his deathbed? did he see his life flash before his eyes, including his many memories with you? did he see what could have been?

it’s unfair.

you give him one last bright smile and gently close his eyelids for him, hoping his lost soul saw your face before you did so. with one last kiss on his lips, you whisper your final words;

“please wait for me on the other side, my love.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst

[fridgedeeznuts]

thinking abt this video im watching between two artists chatting and how at some point the painting part of painting becomes the easiest part of painting, and most of the work is actually about the preparation of the piece, and anything else that is more work during the piece is shit that u forgot to cover in ur prep work,,,,

#because. from my own readings of the masters - and these two do take their teachings from said literature - it's exactly this #it's gurney making mannequettes and setting up lighting; it's bougereau making thumbnails and doing material studies so meticulously they #might as well be pasted onto the final painting itself; it's that one asshole who sculpted a whole ass figure and dragon (and had fun doing #it!) and used that for lighting reference. talking about how that one guy who spent most of his time setting up composition and had his #lil assistants do all the painting for him #thinking abt how my s/o said smthin similar to me the other day that he thinks he can confidently paint anything thanks to his experience #it was a good talk but it was also a little wearying bc while i agree w everything that's said (including do not forget ur whimsy! play!) #these dudes definitely sounded like they smelled their own farts though i do know this is not their intention :skull: #it was an enjoyable talk bc they sorta confirmed a lot of things i had to learn and re-learn on my own post-art school #though ive noticed a lot of art shit lately's also been 'dont get caught up in theory mode and just doing studies!!!' #as somebody who just realized i cld do studies of art i like it's just funny af to see this art tip becoming a trend #atp tho - im just trying to be someone who DOES art at all - study or no study or what have u

[laughing-with-god]

Unsaid Vow I

(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)

Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.

Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!

Read first: Prologue

“I’m a grown man.”

These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.  

You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.  

If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen.  Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.  

“Good morning to you too, bud.”  You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time.  Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up.  But what was the point of having plans when you had a child?  They had a talent for ruining them.  

“I’m five today.”  Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.  

“Yup, I know dumpling.”  You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see  ‘6:03 am” staring back at you.  “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”  

You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth.   How could you ever forget that hellish day?  

“Mom, it’s my birthday.”  Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.  

“Yes, happy birthday love.”  You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt.  “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”  

“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”.  Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.  

Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies. 

It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up.  You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.  

“Right, that is a good point.”  You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired.  “How does some breakfast sound?”

“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”  

“Proposal?”  You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.  

“Yeah, that.”  Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation.  “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”

“Coffee?”  

“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups.  Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.”  Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.  

“Mmm...”  You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer.  “What if I gave you a very light coffee?  A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”  

Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.  

With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch.  “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud?  I’ll be right out.”  

The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.  

You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of.  More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on. 

It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place.  Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.  

No.  

Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.  

Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later.  Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40.  Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.  

Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from.  Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.  

A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.

You had asked why, bewildered at the request.  

Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?

“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine.  I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.”  He had said.  

That didn’t really make sense to you.  

You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.  

It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.  

It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.  

You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.  

When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons.  The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.

“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.”  Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies.  “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”  

“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”  

“You got it, birthday boy.” 

The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast.  You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.

The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.  

You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.  

The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.  

“And of course, your coffee.”  You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.

“Thanks mama.”  

The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.  

“Something wrong, dumpling?”

“It tastes…fa-fam-”

“Familiar?”  

“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”  

You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup.  “No, this is the kid version.  It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”  

Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.  

Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew.  Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.  

“So buddy, what do you want to do today?  We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”  

“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.” 

Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.  

Hugo had no friends.  It was tough for a kid like him to make any.  At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park. 

Your son was different.  He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.  

So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends.  You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.”  The boy looked at you skeptically.  “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories.  Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy.  Sounds good?”  

Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch.  The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.  

“Fine mommy, but we should be quick.  Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”

“Allergies?  Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.”  You rolled your eyes.

With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.  

When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities. 

Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.  

‘Be home by 6 please.  Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’

#yandere jungkook #bts #yandere bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere bts fic #yandere imagines #bangtan boys #bts x reader

[heartofwritiing]

Absent in the spring.

paring: q!wilbur x fem!reader (+ platonic q!philza x fem!reader)

summary: a small vacation to Phil’s beach house causes you to finally break down.

authors note: a follow-up to this fic but you don’t really have to read it. some more q!wilbur angst for you guys because I miss wilbur and tullulah content! also i made it so chayanne and tallulah talk in this lets just pretend the eggs are the human-dragon hybrids that are in fanart bc thats how i see them!

warnings: a little angsty sorry, hurt-comfort, happy end, not 100% following qsmp lore, unedited! please ignore any mistakes!

“how are you holding up?”

Phil’s voice pulls you out of your trance from fidgeting with the blades of grass next to your tucked legs.

You bring your gaze up from the lush green and watch on as Chayanne and Tallulah play tag a few feet away in the field behind Phil’s beach house.

The past month had been weary as you waited for your husband to return from his tour. Days stretched on though you kept going despite that dread in your chest of missing him.

Phil had noticed you seemed less like yourself as the month went on. You were sleeping less, and getting stressed. When he came over to help you take care of Tallulah yesterday he saw how defeated you looked while trying to keep a brave face for your daughter.

Being in an empty house wasn’t fun for anyone, especially when it was too dangerous to go outside on the server alone. So, Phil invited you out to escape that empty feeling, just for a while at least. A walk and boat ride later, you were now sat beside the man with his legs crisscrossed while he munched on avocado toast.

You had shrugged plainly to his question. Fine? Okay? you didn’t know…

Squeals and giggles erupted in your ears as you watched Tallulah finally tag a breathless Chayanne, who had gotten tired of running away from his sister and let her have a turn at the one being chased. Her little legs barely kept up with her taller older sibling as he quickly regained energy.

You couldnt help the smile that was brought upon your lips. Happy they were having such a good time together, being normal for once and not sheltered from the horrors of the server that was trying to harm them every moment. They needed this time, to be care free. To be kids.

You and Phil chuckled at their antics. Though It made your heart break thinking about Wilbur being absent. He wasn’t here to hear the sounds of his daughter's sweet giggles as she played blissfully in the tall grass. To see how she was getting along with everyone, making sure they were happy and cared for.

Wilbur hadn’t sent you a letter in a week. You understood he was busy with tour, you didn’t expect him to have much time to sit and write but your worst agitations were coming true.

The disappointment was settling in each time you would go to the mailbox by the door- you and lullah had spent a day painting and decorating to your liking, with splotches of colors and your names painted across in not-so-straight letters- it would be empty with no sign of even being open since the previous morning.

“I miss him,” you say suddenly to Phil, whose gaze shifts away from the kids to you. You keep your eyes locked on them, fearing that meeting his eyes would make you finally break down into the tears you were holding back for so long.

Phil brings his hand onto your shoulder, a simple symbol of comfort.

“Awe mate, I miss him too.” he said warmly. “he’ll be back soon, im sure of it.”

Swallowing the lump building in your throat, you were so glad you had Phil there for you in these moments. Tallulah had done a good part cheering you up but sometimes you needed a real talk.

"I thought I could do this on my own but-" you choke. "I need him, Phil. He's missed so much and I can't help but think he's gonna feel guilty for not being there for her, or for me."

You let yourself break down in-front of your father in-law finally letting go of everything you’d been holding onto the past month and a half.

Phil placed his hand on your back in support as you sobbed into your hands. The aching pain in your forehead with the slight headache building, the chest pangs told you this cry was long over due.

A tap on your shoulder brings your head out from your knees. You lift your eyes to see Chayanne standing over you, his hand stretched out with a simple white flower pinching between his little fingers. His eyes held nothing but innocence as he looked down on you solemnly. He did not understand why you were so distraught, nor did he care, he just wanted to aid you in any way that he could.

"Please don't cry, Tia Y/N," his voice was small but sympathetic, making your heart sink.

Phil looked so proud in that moment, to see his son come over to aid you with comfort made him perceive he was doing something right in raising a child for once.

Taking the flower from Chayanne, he immediately crouched down to give you a tight hug around your shoulders. Surprised but grateful, you began silently crying as another pair of little arms joined the embrace - you knew it was Tallulah. Finally, you allowed yourself to let go and broke down into tears, feeling their tight embrace.

You were so glad you had these kids. Though they didn’t understand your behavior entirely there was no judgement, only care.

“For what it's worth Y/N, you have us and we will always take care of you both.”

Of course, you knew that. Phil had always been there for you since you first met him. He took his role as a father to everyone very seriously.

“thank you for bringing us here Phil, we really needed this.” you breathe as the kids pulled away from you. Phil gives you a smile of understanding.

-

A few hours passed as you all sat on the dock, watching the last glimmer of daylight fade away over the water - casting a golden glow. Phil suggested a campfire to roast marshmallows. Tallulah and Chayanne were already running off excitedly to gather various sticks to help. Once the fire was going, you all sat together on the sand telling stories, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.

The hole in your heart was healing, and the weight on your chest lifted. You realized that even though life was rough and unpredictable, having a supportive family was what mattered, and you felt content and at peace.

You saw the others smiling, knowing the shared bond was enough.

That night you all slept at the beach house, and for the first time in a month, neither you nor Tallulah had a nightmare.

The journey the following day back to Phil’s was thankfully uneventful. Mostly just shenanigans between the two children. Collecting things like leaves for the scrapbook you and Tallulah were making for Wilbur, documenting all your adventures. Chayanne running ahead to deal with any monsters who dare cross your path.

Upon seeing the tiny house with a fenced yard, you all went your separate ways. As you opened the gate to the yard, the tall purple trees and the various flowers made you miss the tiny home.

Tallulah seemed happy to be back and automatically tried dragging you to see her turtles before you could close the gate. You asked her to be patient while you brought your bags inside.

Walking up to the front door, you heard a crash from inside and you froze. You instantly reached for your sword laying on your hip. Tallulah saw this as a warning and she quickly cowered behind your legs. Preparing for the worst, it could be anyone behind the door. Charlie looking for food, (since he was living near your house in a shed last you heard.) Quackity looking to start another fight about parenting. Or worse the code monster could’ve shown up again to take Tallulah from you.

You would die before that would happen.

Tallulah clung to your legs as you quietly unlocked the door and pushed it open. You gazed down at her and saw her worried eyes.

“If something happens I need you to teleport to abuelito and Chayannes to warn them okay?” You spoke to her firmly in hushed tones, being careful. Tallulah showed you the tiny purple stone for a quick getaway and indicated she understood.

The house was exactly as you left it, except for the suitcase and guitar bag resting against the sofa, which made you frown. Then realization settled in and a gasp escapes you.

Was he here?

Or was this another trick?

As you lowered your sword, you heard someone rustling down the ladder. The wood creaked with every step as the person in the yellow sweater came into view. With round glasses leaning down his nose, fluffy hair, and long limbs, you’d know him anywhere.

Wilbur felt relief wash over him as he stopped midway on the ladder and saw you staring at him in disbelief. as if he were a ghost. It pained him slightly. You couldn’t believe it.

Wilbur was back.

Tallulah peeked out from behind your legs and the tiny gasp she let out when she saw Wilbur. She ran into his arms and cried out;

"Papa!"

Wilbur grinned as his tearful daughter ran towards him. He scooped her up in a tight embrace as you watched, tears streaming down your own cheeks. He held her swinging back and forth gently trying to hush her cries. She was so happy to finally see him again. You had never seen such a wonderful sight of the two people you loved the most in this world.

“I missed you so much Tallulah!”

Wilbur rested his head on Tallulah’s and smiled sideways at you and reached out his arm. Without hesitation, you dropped your sword, which clanked loudly on the ground, and you rushed into his embrace.

You bury your face in his neck, holding onto his scent, his body, his everything. Never wanting to forget how he felt and sounded. Tears stream down your face, drenching his sweater, but you don't care. This time, they flow out of love and happiness, not frustration or sadness.

You all cried and held onto each other for dear life.

“I missed you so, so much my love,” he coos in your ear causing you to choke out a laugh. After missing his voice for months you were so elated to hear it again.

Wilbur sniffled as he squeezed you both tightly in his arms, never wanting to let go.

“I’m here my girls, and I am never gonna leave you again,” he whispers.

This was home.

End

#q!wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #q!wilbur #fanfiction #qsmp fanfiction #q!philza #x reader #qsmp x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt #dadbur #dadbur x reader #dadbur headcannons #wilbur soot x fem!reader

[kaminocasey]

In the Moonlight

Summary: You accidentally let it slip you "Used to" have feelings for Niner. Your partner Fi doesn't seem so bothered by it.

Pairing: Niner x Reader x Fi (Clones from Omega Squad in the Republic Commando Series)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; SMUT, Angst, drinking, threesome (mfm) (no clonecest), unprotected p in v (wrap it up, friends), oral (f and m receiving)

WC: 3.8K

A/N: My love for Omega Squad is unreal. Seriously. These books are incredible. Listened to the song "Moonlight" by Kali Uchis while writing it. ALSO: I HAVEN'T FINISHED BOOK 3 TRUE COLORS YET, so no spoilers lmao. I've just been working on this since I read Hard Contact lmao. I realize that not a lot of people aren’t gonna know the Republic Commando boys and that's okay, I just strongly urge you to read them bc they're literally SO good.

“Cyar’ika… Please come back.” Niner’s deep voice is behind you, following you out of 79s.

Your chest tightens at the term of endearment, but you ignore him, knowing that if you look at him… at those big brown eyes… you’ll end up cracking… and breaking… You should’ve known better than to get drunk with Niner… that’s on you.

“Get back here now.” He practically commands you.

“Or what?” You spit back, continuing to walk away. 

You definitely weren’t expecting his fingers around your wrist. And you definitely weren’t expecting him to spin you around and pull you against his chest, only to gently grab your chin to look up at him. It’s too close… It’s too intimate… It’s too much. The flutter in your stomach is too much.

“You really don’t like to listen, do you?” He muses.

You shrug, jerking your chin away from his strong fingers. “Let go of me.”

It’s a warning. With a sigh, he releases you. 

“I wish you’d just talk to me…” He murmurs. 

You couldn’t talk to him… Not when you felt like this. Not when he feels like this. You start to walk away again, not wanting to stick around to talk. 

“You need to tell Fi.” He calls out. 

Like hell you did. “Kiss my ass, sarge.” 

When you get in the cab, you head back to the barracks, knowing you’re definitely not going to be able to sleep now. 

You’d drunkenly, and stupidly you might add, told Niner that you’d wanted him first… when you first became a pilot. He was who you wanted. But he was distant and weary of you, so you eventually just let it go. You let him go. Or so you thought…

Fi had taken an instant interest in you, always flirting and teasing. How could you say no? You fell pretty quick for Fi. But there was always that little tiny part in the back of your head that just couldn’t let Niner go. 

“You’re back.” Fi looks up from his bunk, delighted, the blue glow of his datapad lighting up his handsome face. “Did you and Sarge have a good time?”

You wordlessly crawl over him in between him and the wall, snuggling into his side. “Too tired…”

He chuckles, placing a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead. “Well, we can talk about it in the morning.”

“Don’t want to.” You accidentally let slip out. 

You dummy… Why couldn’t you have just said goodnight?

“What? Why?” He tosses his datapad to the end of the bunk and looks down at you. “Did something happen?”

You hear the door open and Fi turns his head, finding Niner strolling in. He must’ve gotten a cab right after you. You try to look away, but Fi catches on.

You’re grateful right then that Darman and Atin are gone, doing who knows what for the night.

“What happened?” Fi asks Niner.

“Did you tell him?” Niner asks, thinking that the answer is going to be yes.

“No.” You groan, hiding your face behind your hands.

“I used to like you, you know.” You chuckle.

Niner’s eyebrows raise up. “Did you?”

“I did.” You nod. 

“But Fi-”

“Before Fi… it was you.” You murmur, taking a sip of your drink. 

“I had an inkling.” He apologizes in a way.

“Oh. Great.” You shrug.

“Why didn’t you say-”

“Because I thought you didn’t approve of me… I was a pilot and not a clone and you weren’t the most warm person…”

“Fi was.”

You nod. Fi was the most warm. Still is.

“I’m sorry… if I could-” He murmurs.

“Don’t…” You whisper, shaking your head, unable to look at him. 

“If I could, I would do something about it.” He continues anyway.

You look at him now. “Like get rid of me?”

He smiles, softly. “Like tell you that I love you, too.” 

You nearly drop your drink, confused. Love? Why would he say this now, knowing that your heart lies with Fi… with his vode? 

Angrily, you get up and start toward the door, leaving the bar. Walking away from him… 

Fi looks between you and Niner, eyes begging for someone to tell him what’s going on. How are you supposed to tell the love of your life that you were in love with his brother before him? What if he thinks that you only chose him as a backup when that’s not what happened at all? What if he doesn’t look at you the same way again? Are you prepared to lose Fi? The answer is no. But the look on his face is so heartbreaking that you know that you just can’t lie to him.

“I…” You start, quietly, sitting up on the edge of the bunk, looking up at Fi. 

Why would Niner do this to you? Why would he put you in this position?

Because he loves you and he knows that you still love him… 

Fi kneels down beside you, looking at you, softly. “Cyar’ika… you know you can tell me anything.” 

“I know…” You nod, trying to breathe. 

Fi hands you a canteen with water in it and you take a sip and then a large gulp, just trying to figure out what to say. Honestly, the moment is incredibly sobering.

You sit the canteen down on the floor and look at Niner, who’s sitting in his bunk across from Fi’s. “Before I fell in love with you… I was in love with Niner…”

Fi lets a chuckle slip and you look up at him with furrowed brows. “I already know this. The whole squad knows this.” 

Well, that’s embarrassing.

“A part of me… still does.” You murmur. “Love him, that is… And he loves me too…”

“Is that what this is about? You scared me… I thought something serious happened.” Fi kisses you on the forehead and sits next to you. 

“You’re not angry?” You ask him, confused.

“Of course not.” He rests an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him and then looking up at Niner. “I’m honestly surprised it took you this long to tell her, Sarge.”

“I don’t understand…” You pull away to look at him. 

“You still love me, right?” Fi smiles.

“Of course.” You nod. “More than anything.”

“And you love Sarge, here, too.” Fi’s smile doesn’t falter even a little bit.

This is the most confusing night of your life. 

“Right…” You murmur, looking over at Niner and find that he’s actually smiling at you.

Your chest tightens at the sight.

“So… we share you…?” Fi suggests, looking between you and Niner.

Your eyes return to your partner. 

“You’d really be okay with that?” You ask him.

“We’re vode… we’ve probably shared worse.” Fi chuckles.

That’s both somehow endearing and gross. 

“There’s no probably about it. We definitely have.” Niner chuckles.

Fi smirks and then looks at you again. “If that’s something you want, then I’m alright with it. All I want is for you to be happy, cyar’ika.” 

Fi would do anything for you. There’s no question about it. He’s absolutely the love of your life. Your whole world. But it still felt like something was missing. 

You suppose that something is Niner.

Squeezing Fi’s hand, you lean over and kiss him. He smiles sweetly when you pull away and then looks over at Niner. 

“Well, what do you say, Sarge?” He asks.

“I’m grateful to even be in your presence.” Niner smiles brightly at you and your chest tightens again. 

Fi nods for Niner to go to you and when your sergeant slides off his bunk, settling between your legs, your breath hitches in your throat. 

“Is… this okay?” Niner murmurs.

When you nod, he slides his warm calloused hands over your bare thighs, your dress sliding up slightly. Niner takes notice and looks like he’s really holding back. Looking over at Fi one more time for a confirmation that he’s truly okay with this, you hold yourself back from touching the man on his knees in front of you.

“Go on, cyare. It’s alright.” He lets you go and leans against the bunk post to watch you with nonjudgmental eyes. 

You turn back toward your sergeant and smile down at him as you slowly cup his face, memorizing each detail and scar to memory. The way that his eyes follow yours until they settle on your lips. He waits for you to lean in, something completely unlike Niner, who usually is a first move kind of guy. 

His hands never leave your thighs as you lean in slowly, brushing your lips against his, making his eyes flutter shut. He lets out the softest sigh, and it’s clear to you that he really and truly wants this. He wants you. 

Your hands slide into his hair, tugging ever so slightly, enough to make him moan. Unable to help but smirk against his lips, you tug again and his grip on your thighs tightens. 

“Careful, mesh’la.” Niner warns you, opening his eyes to slide his hands up to your hips. 

Letting out a soft laugh, you look back over at Fi who’s smiling kindly at you. There really is no jealousy inside of him, is there? How could one person be so kind and loving? 

You reach over for Fi’s black shirt, grabbing the fabric and pulling him to you so that he crushes his lips against, his hands automatically finding your hair and pulling your face closer. 

When you feel Niner’s lips on your neck, you melt instantly, groaning against Fi’s mouth. How is this real? How could you be this lucky? 

Niner’s mouth travels down quickly to your lap. “Lay back, sweetheart.” 

Fi guides you down to the bed but you can’t help but want to watch what Niner’s about to do to you, so you prop yourself up on your elbows, making eye contact with you. He grins immediately, taking his shirt off. 

“Truly not good at listening.” Niner playfully shakes his head.

You guide him back to you with your foot. “You already knew this, Sarge.”

“You have no fucking idea what it does to me when you call me ‘sarge’.” He groans.

“Ew. I call you ‘sarge’.” Fi teases.

Niner shoots Fi a silencing look and then pulls your underwear down, tossing them to the floor and then pushes your dress up. You’re eternally grateful that Darman is with Etain and Atin is with Laseema right then.  

“Take her dress off, Fi.” Niner commands him. 

Fi listens and helps you out of your dress, slipping it over your body and then dropping it to the floor. Niner groans softly at the sight of you and an instant boost of confidence washes over you so you sit up and pull Niner in for a kiss. 

“Pretty girl.” Niner whispers against your lips. 

With a soft whimper against his lips, you run your hands through his hair, pulling him as close as possible. 

“Already fucking addicted to your taste.” He groans.

“Wait til you taste her pussy.” You could hear Fi’s smirk as he talks. 

You look back at him and laugh. Fi sits up to kiss you again and Niner palms your breasts, squeezing and groping you in all the right places, making you whine with need. 

“I think I will.” Niner pulls your lower half down to his mouth and kisses your inner thigh, making you gasp into Fi’s mouth. 

You feel Niner’s warm breath flutter over your already wet warmth, knowing that this man could only be perfect at eating pussy. You still can’t fully comprehend how you got here, in between the two men you love. 

“You alright, cyar’ika?” Niner checks in before going further. 

“Perfect.” You pull away from Fi to promise him, smiling. 

He licks a warm wet stripe up your folds and your hand automatically flies to Niner’s hair again as you groan loudly. He chuckles softly and you glance down at him. 

“Don’t you laugh at me.” You huff, breathlessly.

“Not laughing at you, sweetheart. I’m laughing because Fi was right.” He squeezes your thighs on either side of his head. “You taste fucking incredible.”

“I’m always right, actually.” Fi grins widely at you and you grip his shirt as Niner licks into your desperate cunt, building up your orgasm, already threatening to send you over the edge. 

You’ve waited so long for this. You need it to last longer.

“Niner… stop. I’m gonna cum…” You whimper, trying to pull away.

Niner looks up at Fi, confused. “She normally want you to stop so she doesn’t cum?” 

Fi shakes his head, just as confused as Niner is. 

“What’s wrong, cyare?” Fi, brushes his lips against your bare shoulder.

You’re shaking slightly from the nerves of it all. “Nothing… I just… I want to cum a certain way with you, Niner…” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Niner brushes his fingers gently across your cheek, smiling up at you. “Lead the way.”

You pull him up on the bed with you and Fi and Fi moves to the end of the bed to give you and Niner a little space, clearly happy to watch. You guide Niner down onto his back, his head hitting your pillow. His eyes flutter shut as he breathes in.

“I guess now it’s my turn to ask if you’re okay?” You tease, straddling his lap and running your fingers down his bare chest. 

His hands find your bare hips, digging into your soft flesh. “I’m great. Your pillow just smells like you and it really hit me.” 

Maker, he’s so sweet when he wants to be. You lean down and kiss him again, both of you moaning softly against each other. He reaches around you and pulls his hardened length out of his pants, and you can’t help but sneak a look, raising your eyebrows at the sheer girth of him. You’d expect nothing less from Niner. 

“Fuck…” You whisper and then look back at his face.

“You sure you wanna be on top, baby?” He teases.

“I’m already here.” You shrug, making him and Fi laugh. 

“My girl doesn’t back down from a challenge.” Fi grins proudly at you.

You lift up slightly and then start to line your entrance up with Niner’s cock. You spit in your hand and then give his large cock a few pumps, getting his length wet enough. He groans loudly, gripping your hips so roughly you’re sure you’re gonna bruise. But you can’t bring yourself to care, you want to be reminded of tonight. What if they wake up tomorrow and realize that they don’t want to share? What if this is just in the heat of a horny moment? 

You attempt to get out of your head by sinking down on Niner’s cock, and both of you gasp so sharply that you can only look at each other. Niner closes the distance and pulls you down onto him and you can’t help but clench around him already. 

“Fuck…” You both murmur. 

“Fi…” You whisper, holding your hand out for him to come back. 

“I’m right here, baby.” Fi smiles, coming back and kissing your neck. “You good?” 

You can only nod your head, words failing. How do you explain just how good your partner’s brother’s cock feels? You just can’t. 

“Words, cyar’ika. Use ‘em.” Niner grits. 

“I’m good…” You whisper. “I’m good.”

“Permission to fuck you now?” Niner asks, looking up at you. 

“Since when… do you… ask for things?” You tease him.

You can see the look in his eyes darken and you gulp. “Move Fi.” 

Fi chuckles. “Oh, cyare. You’re in for it now.” 

“Huh?” You don’t have time to even finish the word because Niner has you flipped over on your back and somehow is able to push even further into you, causing all the air to momentarily leave your lungs. 

“Fuck you feel so good.” Niner buries his face in your neck, breathing you in as he finds your hands, pinning them to the bed by your head.

You wrap your legs around his waist. “Please… Sarge… I need you.” 

“I know, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’m gonna give it to you.” He pulls away from your neck to look you in the face.

You know he’s just checking on you again but you need him to move or you feel like you may combust. 

“Maker, baby… you’re soaking the sheets.” Fi notices. 

And that’s when Niner starts to pull out, just to push back in and your eyes roll back in your head. You’re absolutely sure you see stars just from that one thrust. 

“Fi, come look at this.” Niner chuckles darkly, thrusting again and again. “Got her to shut up finally. All she needed was her sargeant’s cock. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

You whimper, unable to form a coherent word. Niner and Fi both chuckle again as Niner starts to pick up his thrusting, angling you perfectly so that his cock goes as far as possible into you. You’re not so sure anyone has ever been able to reach as deep into you like this. Not even Fi, as much as you love him. 

“Maker, you are soaked.” Niner pulls your face to look up at him, meeting his eyes. “All for me and Fi, huh?” 

You nod, weakly. 

“That’s right sweetheart. Doing so fucking good.” Niner leans down and kisses you quickly. “Alright, Fi. It’s time for her to cum.” 

Your eyes quickly meet your partner’s eyes and he smiles down at you, proudly. 

“Aye, sarge.” Fi’s fingers find your clit and you gasp and whine, writhing against Niner, making him groan again as you clench tightly around him. 

“You wanna cum on my cock, baby?” Niner kisses your neck as he releases your hands so he can pull back to sit up on his knees, still fully sheathed inside of you. 

“Please…” You murmur, looking at both men with equal need. “Fi- want your cock too… Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely, cyare.” Fi leans down to kiss you before situating himself on his knees near your head so that he can start to press his cock to your lips. 

You relax your jaw and eagerly take his cock as far as he’ll allow you. Fi’s been so gracious this whole time, he deserves more attention. 

“Maker, I love you.” Fi caresses your hair, praising you sweetly. “So perfect for us.”

You hum around his length as you bob your head over his length in time with Niner’s thrusts, which are starting to speed up a bit as Fi continues to rub your clit so perfectly. The warm feeling starts to pool low in your stomach and you can’t help but clench again for Niner. 

“That’s it. She’s so fucking close.” Niner grins down at you. 

“Oh, sweet girl. Are you gonna finish all over our sergeant's cock?” Fi teases you.

You nod around his cock as Niner decides to pick you up slightly so he can slam into you at a more unforgiving pace, the slapping sounds filling the barracks so perfectly, it’s almost deafening, besides both men’s moans and soft grunts.

“Sorry, Fi.” Niner grunts as he pulls you away from Fi’s cock so that he can pull you up into his arms, picking you and slamming you down on his cock so that all you can do is go limp in his arms as he fucks up into you. 

All you can do is whimper and moan, no words able to form, as Niner buries his face in your neck as he unforgivingly pounds into you. 

“Come on, baby. I know you wanna cum like this. Then I can fill this perfect cunt up with my own cum.” Niner grits through his teeth, very clearly trying to hold back so he doesn’t finish before you. “Do you want my cum?” 

You nod with pathetic whines, trying to beg for him. 

“She makes the prettiest sounds, doesn’t she?” Fi’s behind you now, pulling your face toward his so he can swallow your sounds with his kiss and his other arm wraps around you so that his fingers can bring you closer to your finish line.  

“Fuck yeah, she does.” Niner agrees. 

The way they talk about you and Fi rubbing your clit so fucking perfectly is what does it, sending you over your edge, making you throw your head back against Fi’s shoulder. You make eye contact with Niner as you cum all over his cock, coating him with your essence that he finally lets go and fills you up with himself. He groans roughly as he grips your hips tightly and you start to feel the soreness in them as you come down from the absolute sex high. 

When you feel Fi pull away, you feel something trailing down your back and realize that Fi finished when you and Niner did, except it’s all over your bare back and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Fi murmurs with a chuckle as he cleans you with a wet towel. 

“Don’t be.” You pant slightly, pulling him in for a kiss. 

Niner is still buried inside of you and you’re not really ready to pull away just yet. You think he understands because as soon as Fi runs to the fresher, Niner pulls you in for another passionate kiss and you find yourself just as addicted to his taste as he thinks he is to yours. Resting your foreheads together, you close your eyes. Until he starts to  pull away slightly.

“Don’t pull out.” You whisper. “Please.”

“Alright, I won’t.” Niner promises you as he pulls you down to the bed, still inside of you.

He lays against the wall with you in his arms, making room for Fi to join when he’s done. You suspect that Fi’s giving you a moment of privacy with Niner to talk. 

“So, what now?” You murmur. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think we’ve wasted enough time not being together and as long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, kissing you again.

You smile against his lips, believing him. “Until your next mission.” 

“Yeah, but you’ll be right there waiting, right?” His calloused fingers brush across your soft cheek.

“Until you come back to me.” You smile.

“Which I promise to keep doing.” He smiles right back.

“Both of us will.” Fi’s soft voice is behind you as he climbs into the bunk with you, resting his hand on your hip and squeezing gently before placing a kiss to your shoulder blade. You kiss both of them once more before drifting off into sleep, thinking about how lucky you are to get to experience this life with both of them. You just hope that their Kal’buir can make good on his promise and find Ko Sai in time so that you can experience a full life with them.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @patchmates-ad

#repcomm #republic commando #republic commando series #fi skirata x reader #niner skirata x reader #fi skirata #niner skirata #republic commando fi #republic commando niner

[gothushi]

ranger!Rob meets Druid!Y/N while she’s wild shaped as a panther maybe (only bc that’s one I know for sure is in the game) and treats her so well that she’s melting for him but she’s worried of transforming back into a humanoid because of how he might react

stop:((( you’re just relaxing one day stretched out in the sun by a lake, and you hear some rustling in the brush. out pops a tall man, handsome features, hair tied back, intricate armor covering his torso and arms, straps here and there, a pack over one shoulder. he spots you, and kinda stares for a moment before easing down to get some water, obviously quite tired from his traveling. yawning and stretching, you keep a watchful eye on him, but most passersbys you come across pay no mind to you anyway, weary in case of attack but never approaching you.

so when this one in particular does, it intrigues you. he shows no malice, head tilted a little, and it’s because he honestly thinks you’re injured. you’re just sprawled out, not really moving, and his instincts tell him somethings wrong, even though there isn’t.

you lift your head, a quiet noise sounding in your throat, and paws outstretching again, watching him in curiosity. he seems to realize his mistake, pausing as he squats down, “sorry.. sorry… thought maybe you were hurt. i can see you’re okay though..”

you smell something though, nose working overtime as you rise to your feet in a lazy step, coming closer to the man. he seems to mean no harm, so might as well scope him out. sniffing at his side, he lets you, until you get to a side pocket on his pack and bingo! your favorite berries are in there, you know it. you really should go pick some…

but he’s already moving, startling you a little and he apologizes softly, “it’s okay.. sorry.. i’m just.. let me get this out.” his hand unbuttons the side pocket and out pulls a pouch, setting it on the ground between you two as he undoes the tie, perfect red berries spilling into a pile, “go on. you can have them, they smell good?” he’s grinning and honestly, he’s pretty cute.

so you eat up, licking at the fabric and then nudging your head into his knee, so hard accidentally that he falls back onto his ass with a laugh.

that starts a beautiful friendship. he stops by nearly everyday, he must be camping nearby, and everytime he beings something for you to eat, works his way up to petting your head, laying down with you, even taking a nap rested against your side, sunbathing on a flat rock. you also learn his name is rob, he’s traveling by himself. he talks to you about anything and everything. his worries, his past, his favorite meal that he wishes he could have again, he shows you the drawings in his journal.

it takes weeks to get to that point, but one day he doesn’t show. you’re worried, prowling the area, finding an abandoned camp not too far away, with him nor any possessions in sight.

retreating back to your own area, a few days pass and no show from rob.

one day you’re bathing in human form, dunking your head into the lake to wet your hair again as you bathe. getting used to movements and your joints in this form is odd, always something that feels funny after being wildshaped for so long. standing up, someone behind you startles, in turn making you twist and fall back into the water.

coming back up, smoothing your wet hair from your eyes, rob! and you make the mistake of voicing that. because his brows furrow as he stares, only because just your head is out of the water.

“how do you..?” the happy look on your face, the scar running from your brow to cheek, oh my gods

you’re the panther! oh my gods he’s been socializing with a damn druid this entire time! he feels so embarrassed, turning away with his face red, clearing his throat and apologizing. you gotta babble that it’s okay, you’re sorry you didn’t say anything, please don’t leave

he stays, sits down with his back to the water as he listens to you exit the lake and dry off, dressing again and then shyly stepping in front of him to sit down too. he’s more nervous now, bashful, flush high on his cheekbones as he grabs a small bag, setting it between you both. filled with the same berries from the firet say you met.

you get to talking, properly this time, and you discover he got run off by a group of bandits, that’s why his camp was abandoned. he’s okay, just some bruises, but you feel oddly protective.

for the first time in years, you yearn to leave the little area you claimed as your home, want to pack you few personal items up and travel with him, protect him. so you ask.

he gladly accepts.

#neil newbon #neil newbon x reader #extinction rob #rob extinction #extinction rob x reader #rob x druid!reader

[starsreminisce]

I never understood why Feyre is labeled as E/riel shipper when after acowar she never mentioned them ever again. she even talked about Lucien's glove to Elain and how she should use them to not get her hands hurt in her bonus chapter. or how in acofas Feyre kept encouraging the two to talk that Mor told her to get out of their business and let them deal with it themselves!! I think she stopped engaging the idea after Rhys told her so but I'm not sure, what I'm sure about is she never thought about Elain with Azriel after acowar.

or how they keep saying she will be mad at Rhys for stopping them while Rhys other than proving Az only wanting Elain for sex, he brought up some good political reason that could put their court in danger AND most importantly their baby! do they really think she wouldn't also be mad at Az for putting them in danger bc he was horny?

It's probably because they tend to cling to the one part that validates their belief without giving much thought to the context that surrounds it.

The same reason why they would say Azriel "wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend" is because that's verbatim from his chapter. This completely ignores the fact that he didn't correct Clotho about his relationship with Gwyn or express how he felt after the necklace was given away.

Feyre asked why they weren't matched, similar to Azriel's inquiry about why the third sister wasn't assigned to him.

However, you should also consider why she didn't want it to be Lucien. She held anger and weariness towards him for what transpired in the Spring Court.

Despite this, she continued to encourage Elain to get to know Lucien. She even went as far as showing her trust in Lucien again after the war and nudged Elain, who then invited him to live with them again.

She specifically pointed out how, throughout the rest of the year, Lucien was willing to turn a blind eye to those he had every reason to hate and be angry with, all to offer them help.

Azriel only said coldly, “If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.” ... Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at that manor, he’d run into Elain’s former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

Feyre observes Lucien literally fighting against his instincts.

She mentioned the lack of communication between Elain and Lucien but didn't mention the time Azriel and Elain spent together.

Feyre didn't ask Elain for her opinion on Azriel, remind her to reject the bond, or reinforce her belief that Elain and Azriel were a better match, even after their lengthy conversation during Solstice, especially in front of Rhys.

Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, and Rhys have all noticed and mentioned something about the Elucien dynamic that we, as readers, need to know.

But little about Elain and Azriel other than it's weird.

Even Nesta's observation over Azriel's brooding at Solstice:

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room. Mor lounged on a green velvet couch before the fireplace;

Nesta didn't say anything about this exchange but she did have something to say about this:

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

I also don't think that Nesta knows how Azriel felt about Elain either.

Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him. “Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer.

I find it interesting that Nesta talked about exactly where Mor was sitting (in front of the fireplace), and it was Feyre and Mor who were conversing before she went up to Azriel. There was no mention of what Elain was doing at that time or how close to the fire she was sitting.

This once again highlights how E/riels tend to invalidate just how deeply Azriel felt for Mor and blatantly ignore all the obvious signs of his attraction to her, all in favor of their preferred ship.

Mor and Azriel had four books of in-your-face buildup as well, but it seems like SJM has made it now mean nothing.

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

It's worth noting that Nesta's observation wasn't about her figuring out that Azriel liked Elain. Instead, it was her acknowledgment that Azriel was standing back, likely because he was hurt about something, and when he was ready to speak about it, he would.

If most of their "evidence" is based on events up to ACOSAF, and there is limited evidence from ACOSF, except of his bonus chapter that's canon for Elain but not for Gwyn with the exception of half a sentence, that's a pretty telling sign to me that SJM is moving away from that pairing. Conversely, in almost every instance where Lucien is mentioned, there is some form of connection to Elain, reminding us that SJM has not forgotten about them.

The only person who did take notice of E/riel was Rhys and had something definitive to say.

Considering how the inner circle typically reacts when Rhys says something, his words carry much more significant weight.

After all, even Feyre understood and forgiven Rhys for keeping the pregnancy risk hidden from her.

#elain x lucien #elucien #pro elucien #antie/riel #feyre is an elucien #so is rhys #so is the entire inner circle #cherrypicking canon never works out

[spritehouse]

cw: talk of religion (catholicism + christianity) in a positive/neutral way, some religious guilt, mentioned homophobia & religion-based homophobia

i mentioned luke alvez probably being religious/raised religious or at least have childhood ties to catholicism/christianity and i have so many thoughts

so luke grew up in the bronx, which has the highest concentration of catholics (38% of the population) of new yorks borough, most of which (i believe 30% of the population) are hispanic catholics. also, if luke is around the same age as his actor, this sets his childhood around the 80s i think idk how years work

also, i know i said catholicism but (based on my understanding) roman catholics believe in being above other forms of christianity(?) (please let me know if this is wrong, i just looked it up and im not trying to make any religion look bad), and i think, above all else, luke's parents raised him on the belief that everyone is equal, so. Yeah.

anyways, there's a good chance he was raised religious or, at the very least, religion was undoubtedly a part of his life in one way or another

(self-projection headcanon segment now)

so i think it would be neat if luke kinda strayed from religion a little in high school/college bc. yk. being a teenager/young adult is just trying to figure out what The Fuck is going on.

sure, he'll pray sometimes, go to church with his mom, thank God for things, but he's also young and at least a little mad at life, especially while bad things keep happening to him until that becomes resentment toward God

and then he joins the army, and he'll still pray when something Big is going to happen or send his thoughts to someone's family, but it's half-hearted—something he was taught that's ingrained in him rather than something he chose—and continues like that when he's in FTF, too busy to really think about it

it doesn't come up until he's in the bau after he hears spencer's in jail in Mexico, and he's in the bathroom and can't breathe, praying to a God he isn't sure exists to make everything okay

and after spencer gets out, scratch, all that, he has six weeks to reflect on where he stands and what he believes, feeling guilty about only returning to God when he's desperate

he talks about it with spencer, too—prison made luke realize he doesn't want to waste any more time—and even though he's not religious, he never makes luke feel bad or wrong about any of it

spencer talks about his experience with religion and the things he can't explain, like dying in the cabin. he doesn't believe in a God/gods, but he doesn't think people who do are wrong or have misplaced beliefs

he's still weary about everything, but he feels better after talking about it so much with spencer, though that poses another problem

luke has never really bothered to label himself, but he knows the correlation between religion and homophobia, and that scares him just as much as everything else

yes, his parents taught him everyone is equal, but what if that doesn't apply to him, their only son? what if they reject him? what if they tell him that the God he spent so long feeling guilty for abandoning doesn't love him anymore?

at some point, it comes up, and his parents meet spencer and absolutely adore him and they have a Deep Talk and there's Tears because im a sucker for healthy communication between parents and children where luke's parents just tell him they love him so much and aaaaaaaaaaaaa

also: luke and derek bonding over Religion Things. i put all of my three braincells into typing this whole thing, bear with me.

#lex rambles #lex prompts #lex hcs #criminal minds #luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez #luke alvez hcs #luke alvez headcanon

[hella1975]

Hella something incredibly traumatic just happened to me.  I cannot find the original list thingy i have for chapter 42.  (i was like half way through and then stopped i dont remember why) so i have to start over which isnt a bad thing because i get to reread ittt

Your getting 42 and 43 in one thing 

“It had been one day and one night since they left the Western Air Temple and Zuko had a headache.” sme one get this poor boy some tylenol

Bros extremely overstimulated

“Nanook expected they’d arrive at the White Lotus camp-”  i forgot theyre going to the white lotus camp again and if irohs there still thats going to be really fun.  (probably not for zuko though)

I love your sokka so much its insane.  

It always takes me so long to read your chapters and write these and stuff not because of the length of your chapters (i love long chapters) but because i always try to process every single little thing because its so good and a lot of the stuff doesnt even make it into the list because i dont know how to put it into words and thats how i feel about the dynamic youve created around zuko and sokka.  Like how you took Sokkas canon traits and magnified them to accommodate the traits zuko got threw taob perfectly and theres something so artistic about it and i wish i had the words to better explain how in awe of you i am every time i read a new chapter.

Anywho

“If he spoke them, if he let them out, his friends would snatch these birds from the sky and beat them to death, and they would call it salvation.” oh my fucking god hella what the fuck

Zi Se <3

Oh jeez now he’s hallucinating

I love Zi Se.  Having Zuko take care of a small child is such a unique thing to have in a fic and you make it work so well.  Every scene between them is immaculate

The way you portray trauma is incredible.  The ‘two steps forwards one step back’ ness of it, and the way different peoples traumas rub against eachother and the lashing out and guilt and stuff its really so good.  

I think its funny to think about external zuko in taob.  Like a wet dog growling at everyone and pushing itself into a corner.  A little tragic, a little pathetic.  And then in his head he’s having some of the most profound, angsty thoughts.  And the transition between those scenes is also entertaining.  

I also really like the dynamic Zuko has with the entirety of the gang.  Like it’s not just sokka going ‘i can fix him’ and doing it, its a group effort and the different peoples individual traits work well with helping different parts of zuko heal.  When he needs sternness and bluntness, theres sokka, when he needs something more gentle, theres tomnook, and when he needs something in between theres katara.  

I saw your authors notes that was like ‘i’m writing another zukka fic!’ and i was so confused for a moment and i was like ‘wtf is she talking about’ and then it was like ‘you can read it here!’  and i was like ;holy shit its already posted!?  Why didnt she tell tumblr about this and then i was like ‘oh shes talking about tams.’  i forgot it was a zukka fic.  

That took me 3 hours.  

Anywho 

Chapter 43:  : )

“Gradually, things got easier and they fell into a routine.” well thats a relief i hope nothing bad will happen ever again : )

“Suki wasn’t far from him, dipping her water flask into the current,”  of topic but i dont get how people didnt just drop dead from drinking random ass water like how is suki not going to get dysentary.  Sokka needs to invent these people a water filter.

Im carefully treading ocross this chapterbecause of the stuff ive seen from tumblr and discord and while i guess i trust you not to kill tomnook *this chapter* im still very weary and terrified.  

Being american means that you might not be able to afford to read taob bc of the inevitable therapy bill

If i get ptsd from this i quit

Anywho

““Zuko, dude, buddy.” Sokka appeared from where he’d been washing his frankly disgusting tunic, now leaving it to drip around his neck, shirtless as he clapped a hand to Zuko’s shoulder. “If a girl calls you roguish, it’s a compliment.”” Bros projecting

“ this seemed to bother Sokka more than anyone. Hot stuff was one of her favourites, which Zuko thought made sense. He was a firebender, after all. It really didn’t warrant the spluttering and indignance Sokka met it with, stomping over to Suki and kicking water at her while she cackled.” Still projecting

If Tomnook becomes canon i will personally see to starting a movement across all social media platforms similar to the november 6th destiel thing

“He was still smiling. Always smiling. Nanook let him go.” THIS IS THE PART THAT DESTROYED ME????????????????????????????????????? IT WAS ABOUT HAIRR????????????????????/ im actually going to kms oh my god im suing

I experienced so much turmoil for it literally to just be tomkin walking away

Im so insulted

Also nanook definitely has a crush on him just in case you didnt know 👍

Now Kataras overstimulated

“Zuko had taken the carrots.” God dammit Zuko 

If Sokka or Katara find the carrots that wont be good

I dont trust you anymore

““There’s something you’re not telling me,” she said, staring out at the grass around them, the stars in the inky sky. It was the exact same as when they’d sat together the other day, hand in hand, when she’d first admitted to this anger.

Zuko was tense beside her, before sighing in defeat. “This is about the carrots, isn’t it?”  This is so funny for no reason 

““I could probably help you find those men, if you wanted,””  you fucking idiot i cant believe him

“He liked liked Zuko, with his stupid, roguish hair and his muscles and his gentle way of handling Zi Se and his stupid sense of humour and his sheer, stubborn will to keep going. How could Sokka ever talk to Bato again? This was the worst thing to happen ever,”  ITS HAPPENING 

I NEED THAT ONE GIF FROM THE OFFICE JFC

OH MY GOD

I CANT BREATH

The fact that he immediately thought of bato is so iconic i love that for him

The whiplash sokka must feel from coming to terms with his feelings for zuko and that he’s able to grieve his mom and then katara coming out like ‘yeah im going to murder him’ must be insane its like that cat in the hat meme where hes going to hit the dude with the bat

I dont think that conversation went like suki planned for it to

Zukkkaaa fight

THEYRE HUGGIN THIS IS NOTA DRILL OGM

“Katara wouldn’t kill those men.” oh thank fuck

“. local boy discovers the uno reverse card immediately makes it everyone else's problem.”  Lmfao 😂  💀

You have never written a bad anything hella lm tell you.  2 10/10 chapters good job, that was fabulous, i love it.  

Im in a class this semester that deals with analyzing literature and reading a lot of like ‘classic’ books.  And the entire time im reading these books some that are considered to be from some of the best authors of all time is that im comparing them to the things youve written and when ive said that your such a talented writer before, i dont know how much ground ive had to stand on but now that i have like a (very small) reference point for that stuff, holy shit you are such a talented writer.  

Like i know its not your major and that youve never studied it and stuff and the fact that you can produce all of that based on pure talent is honestly incredible.  Im constantly in awe every time i read anything of yours its insane.  I really do hope your as proud as you can be of yourself, you deserve it. 

~list anon~

list anon i get such a little smile on my face when i see ur asks come in like i get comfy and make sure i have time to go through the whole thing in one go and it just warms my heart that someone so consistently makes time for me and my silly stories. thank you x

#you shitting it about tom nook DID make me chuckle tho. sorry babe <3 #i especially appreciated the compliment about zi se. he's my little baby! #'some of the best authors of all time is that im comparing them to the things youve written' KISSING YOU? INSANE THING TO SAY? #ask #taob asks #list anon

[superfluouskeys]

Oh no these asks are GREAT I want to ask like ten of them ummmmmmmm having Restraint: 3 (vibe check) 4 ( 👀 ) 17 (especially curious abt your editing process?? I am so greedy for your tradecraft secrets) aaaaand 19 (I recently researched….. doormats. that made me feel very sane about my choices please tell me about yours)

GOOD EVENING i have finally returned to what is truly important, my tumblr ask box.

3. how you feel about your current WIP

JNSDKJFSDKNJ NOT THE VIBE CHECK but you know, I had a smol breakthrough like two? nights ago that i have yet to actually follow up on LOL. I had this transition section where i was like i need to impart some Vibes and some Character Arc but i'm literally boring myself rn, and I think I have figured out in a vague sense how to make the transition do a lot more work for me, so that's good!

In general I'm extremely excited about some Major Points of the thing, just currently have to do an inordinate amount of sowing seeds for those major points in a way that's like subtle enough that I'm not hitting the reader over the head but also exists enough that the careful reader will pick up on it you feel?

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

Side note before I even start answering...sometimes I think about how many of my """"""story ideas""""""""""" are just glorified weather metaphors. I am genuinely not sure what happened in my brain to make me like this. What has the weather EVER done to me.

Uhm so anyway since I'm thinking about Stormchaser, definitely a story idea and not just a weather metaphor in a trench coat, why don't I tell you a little bit about my characters because I'm very normal about them.

The first person [main character we are tentatively naming Emily] meets in the city is Nolan, who owns a small bar and restaurant that she won in a messy divorce. She puts on an act of tough-and-wry-and-world-weary, but she's very soft-hearted and has a bit of a savior complex, a bit of that 'i don't want what happened to me to happen to anyone else' vibe.

She has taken in Asher and Aislynn, siblings from a prominent and wealthy family who have had a [very mysterious] falling out with their parents and are thus in need of a place to stay. Asher is guarded and protective, while Aislynn is very open and warm. People often perceive her as naive, but Aislynn actively chooses to see the best in others.

Aislynn has magic, which is the source of many of her problems. (This is like kind of a reveal but the foreshadowing is painfully obvious LOL) Back when I was thinking about Stormchaser as a multi-path story, one major decision point was going to be, in a moment where the player character is hurt (not gravely, but still not in great shape), choosing whether to allow Aislynn to use magic to heal her. It would have a huge impact on the MC's relationships with most of the other major characters, since most of them have very strong opinions either about magic or about Aislynn herself. Aislynn is also the reason I ended up wanting to write the story--I had an overarching idea for the plot, but I got soooo attached to her so quickly!

17. talk about your writing and editing process

as we all know my writing process is just getting possessed by some sort of weather-related entity and then not sleeping until well after the sun has risen, so I think that's pretty clear and doesn't raise any sort of questions or concerns.

if no weather entity possession, my strategy has become "just force yourself to write the painful and clunky sentences at the speed of molasses and then look at it again tomorrow" -- because most of the time the next day I can fix what was clunky really easily bc I made space in my brain by getting the ideas down, and sometimes, extra special treat, I reread what I wrote and it's literally not even bad I was just in a mood LOL.

I feel like a very large percentage of my editing is just being extremely insane about word choice. Sometimes I go back and forth on word choice/word order/very very minor sentence structure things literally long after the thing is published and I am trying to tell myself to let it go. But tbh I don't really have a process for this, it's just what jumps out at me when I reread it as being awkward or not quite what I was going for. I'm probably like this because I used to be such an insufferable snob (used to be!!!!) and needlessly chose so many ten dollar words that I think I have a better-than-average sense of when simpler language is better vs. when you need a more complex word to describe the thing. So it sort of depends on the character whether I do a lot of deleting or adding of extra fluff and filler words LOL.

I'm alllll about limited POV and creating a headspace/thought pattern for characters, so I do a lot of thinking about what the specific character knows, how the specific character would express something, or whether she even has the language for what she's experiencing. I really love finding ways of conveying an emotion that the reader will recognize but the character doesn't!!

On a more macro scale I think I do a lot of, like, "this section is boring me. why?" In a story you really don't want anything that's doing nothing, and you definitely don't want a whole section that's not doing much. Sometimes because I try to make my dialogue as natural as possible the conversation starts to kind of wander LOL, and so I have to be like okay hold up what are we talking about what needs to be established here. And then usually jump back a bit and figure out how to lead the conversation in a more pointed direction.

And a lot of the time idk how much transitional stuff to include, so I'll be off on some rambling journey like uhmmmm do I need this??? when do we get to the fun part???? Which, like, not to say the fun part will be easier to write or anything, but a lot of time that feeling of boredom is bc what I'm doing either isn't necessary and can be accomplished in a way that's more fun for me personally OR it's fine it just needs to be pulling a lot more weight in what it's telling the reader. I find I sometimes get caught up in, like, a story beat that would "make sense here" as opposed to a story beat I personally like.

Like, as an example, I've been thinking (for soooo long yes i know) about how to continue the chance you take, and I remember I put in my notes that like a sparring scene would make sense, where you know it's all a metaphor and there's some quippy dialogue or w/e. And ik a lot of people like that kind of scene! And idk, sometimes I do too! But like........I don't want to do that lol! And in fact I think it doesn't actually fit with the vibe of the story, which is so much less about the violence surrounding it and so much more about the quiet moments in between. But I'm literally just thinking this now as I'm typing this. Like I didn't have a good reason for why I didn't want to progress the story that way until literally right now.

Which I guess leads me to another very important editing tool: pacing my kitchen like a crazy person explaining the problem I'm having to myself so I can try to talk through why it's bothering me LOL! as you can see it's extremely efficient and time-sensitive. six to ten business days turnaround for sure.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

chickens :)

I'm genuinely drawing a blank LOL, I've definitely looked into a few things I can vividly remember (boats/ships and how crews and shifts work for TCYT, horse riding/cart pulling for scorched earth, how animal testing works for uhmmm that one moicy fic, oh and I remember i looked a lot into bird symbolism for the prisoner LOL) but I think mostly what I do is intensely study the source material, and I haven't run into that many situations where I felt like I needed to make sure I knew about something in the actual world and not the fictional one LOL! Wow I'm boring! I want to know about doormats!!!!!

fic writer asks!

#the tumblr post editor has caused me so many newly discovered stages of grief i stg #exciting tag for answered asks #exciting tag for writing things #personal #tumblr editor leave my read more where i put it challenge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #put that thing back where it came from or so help me!!!!!!!!!!

[dulcewrites]

Aemond and Aegon’s talk and him threatening Aemond 😭. Love you bby girl but you ain’t winning that fight. It’s the the thought that counts tho 😔. Also him entering aemond room despite his protest 💀.

Aegon gifting her a necklace (I think) and him getting all shy about it 😭. What’s sad is Aemond probably never gifted her something during their entire marriage, he probably thinks the kids are a good enough gift 💀. Don’t get me wrong I love the kids, but it’d be nice to receive something like some flowers or jewelry, maybe even your favorite book. The reader better then me I would have taken Aegon’s gift 😭.

Her and Helana talk about being queen and ruling the kingdom. Also I noticed that line about the reader mentioning how Rhaenrya was know for her beauty and never her politics and smarts 😭. She’s not wrong tho. Nrya was never taught how to rule properly 💀.

Aemond talking about how pretty the reader looks and noticing how tried she looks(like I wonder who’s the cause of that 🙄). Like I know he doesn’t love her but they way he talks about her and how he finds her beautiful and smart would have me fooled 💀. Wonder if he got little heart palpitations when he first saw her. I wonder if he did like her at the start of the marriage and then Dameon and Rhaenrya’s ruined a potential happy and loving marriage 🙃.

Daella shrugging her shoulders when Aemond asked if she’ll miss him is so funny. Also babushka Vhagar, wondering where her best friend went also that she loves her too is so sweet.

I can’t wait for the reader to rise hell at dragonstone 🤭. I know she’s gonna have them all gagged Daemon included.

My emotions during this:

Me @ the reader, Daella,Alaric,Ser Quinton, Helaena, Alicent and Aegon

The reader @ Nyra and Alicent

Also you ate you this chapter(I mean you’ve ate and left no crumbs with this whole series)

Aegon knows there is strength in numbers and if reader gets harmed, Aemond will be jumped! LMAO

Reader is a material girl so she definitely enjoys a gift 😭. The sunfyre necklace (that’s what I’m calling it bc it’s gold and pink) is very her. I think any other time she would taken it happily, even when her and Aegon weren’t as close. She’s super weary of everything now which sucks (for Aegon lol)

It’s really unfortunate how Rhaenyra (nor any of viserys’ kids) were given the tools necessary to lead. The coddling that viserys did only did her a disservice. while, yeah it fucked them up badly, but Alicent’s kids had to sort of fight for every inch.

I think Aemond sees reader as a smart and pretty woman… he’s just a self sabotager. Imo Aemond has like ugly duckling syndrome, but not for looks. his childhood (the bullying, the neglect from his dad) did a number on him. In a different life, a well adjusted Aemond would’ve been sooo head over heels for reader. But he’s grown up, hasn’t dealt with his trauma, and has this “symbol” on his arm… it freaks him out a lot I think. He should be better and he isn’t. Hence the pitching (I have the headcanon of both Alicent and Aemond have self harm/anxiety tendencies) and wishing to go back in time). Alys being an “out” on top of his trauma was the perfect storm of mess

I’m soooo excited for the dynamic I have in my head for daemon and reader.

#reader watching Rhaenyra and Alicent: are they… 💅🏽 #fool me once asks

[afarcryfrommymain]

I like cult Aphid bc I like writing and drawing characters with something wrong with them™️ but the amount of prerequisites for him to join and STAY is a lot because he's got a lot wrong with him without also joining a cult, it takes some heavy fuckin lifting. So I'm just going over bullet points for this au in this post tbh.

1. Sister has to visit his home a little after he moves to Hope County, before the cult is at its worst and before he really properly starts at the sherrifs office

2. Has to meet John in a friendly setting prior to this and able to stand him enough to actually become his friend. (He absolutely cannot meet Sharky in this au until after its too late because it will become about them and its supposed to be JohnxAphid)

3. Big fight between him and Ruby which causes him to go over to Johns house and rant for 30 minutes about how he's got no one and he's sick of his family

(Alternatively Ruby dies but I really hate killing her just to make my boy sad in general and I don't like the idea of killing her until like, New Dawn time maybe and even then its like blaze of glory shit, its also more interesting for her to be alive in this au)

4. This prompts John to get him to join Edens gate, hes on the fence about joining but he's sort of considering, but like he's heard all the bs you have to do to join and isn't exactly jazzed at the idea of it. Hes also incredibly weary of a lot of religion because of his childhood n shit but let's not talk about that.

5. Aphid hops on the denial train when shit begins to hit the fan and Ruby trying to help gets into it with him again but this time its like "hey lil bro, I noticed your gay ass is about to join a cult so maybe don't?" And another fight and hes like "fuck it" and joins out of spite (dipshit)

6. Now he has to have good reason to stay in, which I'm genuinely not sure about outside of like, him and John start dating and he's like "fuck it" and leans into it. Like dating for long enough that it's at the "meet the family" kinda point.

7. He also can't be around for the first time Faith gets replaced because he could ignore it if it happens once (king of "not my business not my problem" in this au fr) but probably not twice

8. Continues to ride the denial train for a while but eventually when the reaping begins he doesn't really stay because he believes in it or whatever but because he just knows enough members of the project that he doesn't want to fight them anymore and kinda drops out of his job at the sherrifs office one day without 2 weeks notice or anything. (Point of no return for him, this point forward he can't be convinced to leave by anyone or anything)

9. Ruby will have to to take place of "main problem causer" this au (I finally let her do something woah) and the resistance generally sees her like "oh sorry your brother went crazy I think you gotta kill him tho??? Sorry"

10. Can't tell which Seeds die or if Aphid works really fucking hard to keep em around, John makes it because Aph is consistent in protecting people he loves in every au fr but they lose the bunker key in the process. Same with Jacob maybe.

11. Faith is difference bc Ruby is a bleeding heart with a savior complex and completely falls for the front she puts up and is like "but we gotta help her 🥺" but Faith does get to leave the project (sorta kinda, it's a whole thing) and survives

12. Dude idk if I can keep her from shooting Joseph and I kinda want her to fr like he starts doing his speech and she does not let him finish. Aphids busy with keeping his very pissed off boyfriend, the brother who looked like he was about to be cool with death, and the members he was able to get to safe. He doesn't even realize he straight forgot about Joseph til its too late.

13. Ruby does a broadcast about Joseph and asks Aphid one last time to come back but he's all in now and probably isnt gonna back out anytime soon. He still goes to confront her and since Aphid might as well be a raid boss theres a big show down between the two of them. They're fighting and Ruby gets really close to killing him but she hesitates because "fuck that's my brother, I raised him, I love him, this is so fucked"

14. In the minutes she hesitates the collapse comes. It's late, but it happens and Aphid just bolts to the bunker he had holed up with John in up until that point. Can't decide who Ruby's bunker buddy is. Could stick her with the Edens Gate people and have fun new issues but who knows.

That's the broad strokes though, probably won't write anything for this past a one shot or two if I feel like it but I thought it'd be fun to lay it all out like tism

#ok but what if i got into some nonsense instead #aphid hernandez #im talking now #far cry 5 #cult!aphid #idk what cool name to give him but i guess he'd be like a chosen but worse #oh! #ruby hernandez #yuh girlies tag i dont use #ruby crushes on grace hard in this btw #no clue if its a ship but i think its be cool #sharky is around this au and i think itd be funny if he saw aphid fighting and had his bi awakening bc of him either way #but despite how it may seem i cannot control my ocs #its like sims i tell them to do something and usually its done #but sometimes they go #my writing #if theres any errors in this its bc ive been awake all night at the airport #bc my flight got cancled #be nice to me or else

[crepusculum-rattus]

35 but can i request ur rambling bc about your hardcore phil. i want to know more about him always

you Can :D!!! i love rambling abt this guy.. i’ve got so much just sitting in my notes app about Him. also i was getting ready for work while writing this so it took a Minute :P

so My hardcore phil.. hes my pathetic and fucked up cat who is dunked in milk daily❤️ okay haha! i’ll actually ramble about the beginnings of his story bc i think it provides the best Insight abt Him..

so when i was on vacation w my family i was like “hrmmm i want an excuse to write ender and phil interacting.” and it just Snowballed from there. bc i had to find my way through Why they would interact and how to characterize ender.

the idea was that phil is entirely new to a hardcore style world (in the logistics where players can choose the type of server they enter ehhh it’s best not to worry abt this part tbh). he’s good at surviving, he’s good at being alone (he claims). but he keeps stumbling upon structures that were clearly built By someone (cough cough it was the gods). and he’s like “haha Weird” bc sometimes he’s a bit of an idiot and thinks nothing of it… he just keeps on exploring and progressing, working on his base and all that stuff.

aaaand he’s finds his way into the nether, and manages to Stumble upon the blaze empress. and they just Don’t get along. so he gets and bad first impression of the deities (since she’s the first deity he actually Talks to). it’s not rlly the empress’ fault, she’s just Stressed bc ender has always been a little bitch, and she doesn’t trust this random guy who claims he just stumbled into her domain (even tho that’s fr what happened).

but like Whatever.. he’s like “okay fine jeez i’ll fucking leave.” and decides to take it Personally that she doesn’t like him, and tries his best to avoid the nether all together after that. luckily he’s got most of what he needs already.. since his goal IS to earn wings in this world which you usually get from going to the end and killing the dragon. soooo he’s just an entirely human dude for most of this. literally just a Guy

and eventually he finds himself in the end. and it’s .. Wrong. he knows it is. he stands in the center of all the pillars for what feels like hours and no dragon appears. it’s just overwhelmingly Silent…….. and then the fucking bitch bastard, ender, appears. and he can very clearly Tell that he’s a god, and is immediately like “before you say anything, i’m Trying to leave but i fucking can’t yet. so shut up. i get it.” but ender just smiles and phil, the idiot, takes it as a good thing that ender appears to be polite and isn’t yelling at him to leave his realm.

there’s a strange lingering feeling around ender but he just takes it as general weirdness from a god. but he ends up talking to ender because the god seems curious as to why phil is There. when phil tells him he’s trying to earn wings (which you usually get from killing the dragon lmao) ender offers for him to stay. it’s not like phil can exactly Leave since he doesn’t really have a way to get out, but the offer is nice. so he takes it :)

aaanddddd that’s the beginning of Him and his time in his hardcore world. very fun very good,, he’s not in danger at all. and it’s not like he’s Stupid, i mean he’s surviving hardcore, he just hasn’t interacted with a lot of people in general. so he’s not.. Great at knowing when someone is just using him. plus he can be pretty stubborn in his opinions of people, so he’s like.. always weary of the blaze empress even later when he needs her help. the same stubbornness is also what makes it Hard for him later once he finally knows ender better. smile.

#there’s a Reason why the dragon does not appear tho #phil just doesn’t know why and decides that it’s just something funny going on #he thinks the dragon will appear eventually #philza #philza hardcore #my baby boy…. i love phil.. he’s like an oc to me…. #rat got mail #hhhmellohi #ty for the ask btw :3! #u can ask specifics about this Too bc i’m sure there is confusing bits in there #also i start writing this Before phil gave us more abt Rose.. so like. i have to find a way to make it all Work #🐀

[lynxgirlpaws]

Hey er. Avie Rant time. I. Just . sorry preemptively lol

I am . having a rather hard night. Which I feel isn't even fair to say based on the circumstances but like. Whatever. So, Im chilling right? Chit Catting with people, maybe helping someone way out of my league cum, normal me behavior for the middle of the day. Anyways, my dad comes home. He. Is apparently not in a good mood, which I will discover later. First, he basically bursts into my room and demands I keep the door open bc apparently he dislikes the smell. Also I need to clean right now. Also I need to get out of bed, I don't deserve to lay in bed since I don't really work. I. Haven't put it together yet, but sure I do it whatever - I leave the door open a crack. Whatevs. Then he inquires about the food his girlfriend gave me. Which.. Was half things that I struggle to eat, but besides the point. He presses about "was that dinner?" You know. If you're here you know his obsession with me losing weight. Anyways I tell him "you said she'd bring me a snack at some point, this is what she brought. It was two hours before you allow me to eat dinner, so I assumed it wasn't" or whatever. Good enough answer for him, whatever. Sorry for all the filler, mostly dealing with him is these little things he does to remind you everything ought be how he want it, such as reminding me that I shouldn't expect dinner (although he informed me I could make a chicken patty or smth if I got hungry which, yippeee)

Anyways, a few minutes pass and. He starts his bullshit. He demands I shower now. And I only shower in the morning from now on. See, I shower at night because I like to see myself with hair I don't hate and feel clean as I sleep. However when I told him I prefer night showers, he got pissed. Angry, about why every time he asks something I have to "buck against" him . I, stupidly, ask some shit about why he doesn't let me make decisions to make me happy. He... Goes on a yelling rant about how the way I know to do things is wrong, I don't have a job or classes so I don't deserve to lay down, goes on about how there are 'rules' aka whatever he tells you... And informed me of his unwillingness to pay for college or anything unless I show initiative (fair, although he told me there was money in his mother's account or whatever that can only be used for college) and talked about how he'll kick anyone who breaks his rules out (using his girlfriend as an example)

I... I dunno. Something kinda went fucky wucky in my head and I. Maybe cut for the first time in a few months. I just. Really? All this shit because I asked if I could shower at night instead of the morning? Anyways I. I dunno, I've been . doing less than good pretty much consistently for. A long while, but not enough to really justify complaining to y'all about it . I usually just kinda brush it off but. I dunno. It was bad...der tonight. Best part is that when I get out of the shower, he tells me to come up to the door... And open it. No like, gn or whatever no happy thanksgiving, he just tells me to open the door (because he doesn't like that my room doesn't ventilate much... Despite the open window) and leaves before I can even see his face.

I. Grow weary.

tl;dr - despite no thanksgiving dinner/gathering, my family still fucked me up today lol

#my dad be like “why do you want your door closed? we spend all our time downstairs” #then demands I open my door because he doesnt like it closed #or “nobody will hire you and youll be socially outcast” #even though... i shower before going outside. even just for a stop & shop run #like. its blatantly just he wants to dictate how I am ... but tf can I do about it lmfao #my only previous option (live with my only friends family or smth) is dead. you all probably know why #i literally have nothing but this . and. it is maybe not great for me #i get that he is trying his best and cares for me or whatever but. i increasingly cannot take my own internal shit.. #and whatever this temper tantrum type shit is #sigh #shoutout to that person who sent a really cute pickup line to my alt - I was gonna go to sleep and vanish for the night but #that was really sweet. it made me smile lol #something something #tw: self half #AvieRant

[twodimecastle]

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #my writing #spencer reid fluff

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

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