#He did not need to hear the magic words 'You can make noises at others to influence them' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spdrvyn · 11 months

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Can we maybe get pt.2 of I’ll be lonely with you?

can you be lonely with me? — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: ever since your first real encounter with miguel, you're sure that your relationship him has grown ever since. it's hard to put an exact label on it but it's safe to say that he's grown more comfortable to confide in your presence nowadays.

NOTES: i keep getting reqs for miguel fluff and a part 2 from the last fic i did so i am killing 10 birds with a machine gun here. you also don't really need to read the first fic to understand this one but if you want to see how it all starts out then it's on my masterlist if you wanna get a better understanding of it! this one is more from miguel's perspective by the way :3 this gets fluffier as i proofread it uhhh good luck you're gonna get cavities!!!

No matter where he went, no matter how hard he tried. Noise, it followed Miguel.

If he was dealing with an anomaly, he would hear the shrieks and cries of the people all around him. The shuttering of phone cameras, law enforcement telling civilians that they'll be able to handle it.

If he was in his own dimension, walking amonst the other Spider-people, he would hear the chatter and the gossip. Mechanical whirring, the sound of webs being shot, it's like it was haunting him.

It's the reason why he enjoyed staying in his office so much. Even if he can hear the occasional bang or clang, it was mostly quiet. He's contemplated getting earplugs to drown out the sounds but there's always a need for him to be alert.

That's where you come in.

Granted, it's not like you were a magical pair of noise-cancelling headphones that descended from the heavens (maybe just a little bit) but you provided some relief for Miguel.

On the chance that the two of you met, whether it's in the cafeteria, passing by each other in headquarters, or once you built up the courage to actually visit him in private—

He didn't want to admit it. It might be a little dramatic but he'd rather die than admit it.

But... he enjoyed your company.

Granted, he had trouble putting his thoughts into words at times. Talking about the arachno-humanoid-poly-multiverse could be easier than answering a question about what his favorite pet was but you? You made it seem so simple, so easy.

You didn't really talk to him about crude and mindless topics such as 'how his day went' or whatever. Conversations could span from your childhood best friends to your most memorable trip with your family or even high school love lives.

Miguel contributed much less to the conversation obviously but listening to you talk was more than enough for him. Your voice satieted him, it was almost addicting.

The melodies sung by birds in the morning, the praise he receives from colleauges about his deeds. They couldn't even compare to you.

Although, there were a lot of things that he also hated about you.

He hated how you could make him hear his heart drumming in his chest whenever you lay your hands on him. Even if it's for the most miniscule of things, like whenever you brush shoulders or graze fingertips; it sends a pleasurable shiver up and down his spine.

He hated your face, your smile, your eyes. Whenever he had the chance to open up about himself, when you had the pleasure of experiencing the rarity that is hearing a personal detail about Miguel; he'd look back at you once he finished talking and he'd see that look. A look of how proud you were of him, a look of longing and wanting. It's taken his breath away more than you'd ever hear him say.

He hated your compassion. Miguel has had an uncountable amount of bad days that if he made an attempt to number them, it would give him migraines. During those days, he would be grumpy, irritable, upset at the little details and during those days, you still wouldn't give up on him how he imagined even some of his better known acquaintances probably would.

Most of all, he hated himself for not knowing why.

For the longest time, he's thought of himself in the worst way possible. Unlikeable, difficult to be around, anti-social, and so much more and so much worse. Why did you continue to stay with him?

Having late night meals or snacks with him has now become a very frequent occurence, it was practically a ritual at that point. You'd even managed to convince to come out during more normal hours for lunch or just to "take a stroll around".

He's given up on himself, given up on the possibility that he could be anything more than his role of protecting the multiverse.

Yet, you gave him even the smallest sliver of hope.

He hated himself for wanting to hold onto it.

He didn't care anymore if he didn't know the reason why you continued to tolerate him after all this time, all he knew is that he'd try to stay by your side to the best of his ability. Holding onto that brittle string of a dream you handed him.

Key statement being 'to the best of his ability', tonight was such a time he couldn't be able to see you, much to his dismay. Swamped with surveillance, reports, reminiscing. The last time that he got a glimpse of your beauty was earlier this afternoon, only god knows how many hours have passed since then.

Perhaps it would be best if he found out himself. "Lyla," He called out, the virtual assistant hovers over his shoulder. Pixels floating over him. "What time is it?"

A little clock glitches into Lyla's hands, she hums before looking back at Miguel with her usual smug expression. "3:47 in the morning. You've been at it for seven hours now, Miguel."

His eyes flutter short for a moment, possibly the only wink of sleep that he'll get through out the night. Even when his eyes are closed, it's like the screens he's been looking at for hours to no end are now tattooed into his eyelids or something.

With a deep sigh, he continues working at it anyway. It's not like whatever anomaly or evil that's awaiting him in a distant universe will allow to him to get some shut-eye anyway. What's the use if he takes such an opportunity now?

Unusually, Lyla doesn't 'disappear' yet. Normally once he's done making a request, she poofs straight into thin air unless she's going to make remark back at him yet she remains in complete silence.

"Anything else, Lyla?"

"Someone's coming." She announces abrubtly, her tone is blank and lacking of emotion. Is that a sign of danger? Without daring to hesitate, Miguel puts his mask on. Eyes shifting to each dark corner in the room, ready to snatch and tear at whatever beast is—

All of a sudden, there's giggling. Coming from Lyla, of course. A hand clutches at her stomach, the other waving a finger in his face. The small outburst of laughter sends echoes. "Oh, wow! You're that paranoid already? Jeez, get some sleep maybe..."

As quickly as his mask came on, he takes it off. An aggravated scowl playing at his features, Miguel folds his arms over his chest. "I can't believe you. No me asustes así, Lyla. Is there someone coming or not?"

Finally, her stream of cackles stop as she catches her breath. She nods, perching herself on his shoulder; she pretends to check her nails. "Take a guess."

"I don't know. Who?"

"Come on, take a gander at who. You won't believe who it is."

"Lyla, no more messing around. Dime quién es, or else I'm putting you on low power mode." The threat is empty and there is no low power mode, Miguel has said it to her more than a dozen times but the response that he's able to provoke with it is a little laughable.

Begrudginly, she swipes a screen into view. Revealing you entering the hallway that leads into his very office, he's barely even get a good look at it before the screen disintegrates. Lyla crosses her arms, basically imitating the same position that Miguel is in right now.

"Happy?"

"Very. Leave us alone for a bit, won't you?"

In retaliation, she sticks her tongue out at him before her avatar shatters into mere blocks of code then disappearing entirely. Perfect timing he'd say as he sees you come into view on the stage below.

Once you're able to catch sight of him, you wave at him. That same gleeful smile that tugs at his heart strings. The lowering of his platform is finished, signified with an audible click.

You don't hesitate to head on up, immediately you wrap your arms around Miguel, pulling him into a warm but unexpected embrace. He doesn't have time to respond or think, muscles tensing once greeted with your touch.

He doesn't get the chance to hug back either before you pull away, hands remaining on his shoulder and his forearm. Only then does he realize that the grin you wore was tinged with a hint of concern.

"Sorry, sorry," You sputter out, chest rising up and down as you huff with relief. "I just didn't see you in the cafeteria a while ago, I thought something happened to you but I had to go back to my dimension due to reasons."

There's a sharp punch at Miguel's head once he realizes. He forgot about your midnight ritual, drowning in his work that he neglected the one other person important to him. "Mierda, I'm so sorry. It— it slipped my mind, I was just..."

Unable to finish his sentence, mind scrambling for what to tell you. To say that he was doing his job would maybe be fair but would it spare any of the pain that he may have caused you for missing it?

He's fully expecting you to be simmering with anger, even by just a little bit. That whole thing was how you two got to develop such a connection with each other anyway and he fucked it up.

A small lecture, a scolding, a disappointed glare.

"Hey, hey. It's fine, what matters is that you're okay. Whatever tasks you're taking on here are really important, I'm not upset at all. You're just doing what you gotta do,"

Nothing?

Nothing at all!

"Oh." All the apologies, the reasons he's been looking for, the pleading that he would've saved as a last resort to quell your boiling rage has now gone out the window. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I am. I have no reason to be mad at you right now, Miguel. Although..." Oh no. Here it comes, brace yourself! "When's the last time you slept? I swear,"

His hands clench into fists, nearly flinching away as your hand reaches up to his cheek. Your thumb rubs the circles under his eyes, "These get deeper everytime I see them." With a sigh of defeat, he wraps a hand of his own around your wrist. Cheeks sinking into the soft caress, ever so slightly.

The way that your expression twists into one of worry once he doesn't respond, how Miguel feels the stinging in his chest for making you concerned but he thought it would be better than telling you honestly.

Your hand slips from his cheek, he tries to tamp down the disappointment at the loss. "I wish I could stay for longer but you have your duties, I have mine."

He nods understandingly, why wouldn't he? He knew that notion best, arguably a lot more than most Spider-people. At least, he'd be able to better appreciate this moment you two shared no matter how short lived it was.

"Promise me that you'll sleep once you're done."

Silently, barely even above a whisper, he utters: "I promise."

You shoot him one last smile before you swing back onto the lower platform, sparing one last glance then you disappear into the dark hallway. Miguel's face falls once you leave,

He despises how he misses you already.

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minimallyminnie · 4 months

Text

Having a bit of Trouble.

Kalim can’t handle being constantly belittled anymore.

Tsukasa Tenma 🤝 Kalim Al Asim

It’s night and you’re walking around the school

Yeah yeah, unsafe you know but…you have a magical cat who breathes fire!!!!

And your dragon fae friend who usually join is…ill. (You sent some ice cream to him!!)

Hearing Grim yap about something that Ace did is usually background noise but then it just starts to waver until Grim falls asleep in your arms

Smiling, you continued to walk around the school

You got to the famous seven statues and heard the strangest sound…

A sniffle coming from one of them

Was it a ghost? You weren’t afraid no, after all, they literally lived in Ramshackle with you and after what happened with Eliza, you couldn’t care less anymore

You stepped quietly towards the source

The statue of the Sorcerer of Sands…?

Standing there, you stared at the statue

It didn’t seem to be cr—

And then you hear a sniffle

“Why…Hic!…why am I so so dumb…?”

…wait. You knew that voice

You went behind the statue to see your boyfriend sitting in a fetal position against the statue, not noticing you standing there

“Sorcerer of t-the Sands…I probably m-made you so haha…disappointed.”

A sniffle.

“What good am I? The only person who I thought was my best friend…hated me. I need him to do everything, even my own job as a housewarden, and I can’t even cook or clean properly. I have low grades in everything but music and math while he just excels in everything. Everyone in the dorm probably likes him more than me. I’m just…a stupid, stupid, arrogant, useless, sloppy, naive, idiot who can’t even—“

He’s cut off with a sudden tackle to the floor

“WAH?! A-another assassin? Ghost? Overblot?! W-who are you?!”

“Kalim.”

He relaxed promptly and hugged you

“Oh thank the seven! I—“

“You need to shut up. You are…”

You shakily breathed out. You don’t want to repeat any of those words.

“You are not what you said.”

Kalim tenses for a second and tries to laugh it off

“It’s nothing! I was joking, y’know just talking with the sulta-“

“Don’t change the subject. I heard you and…” You wiped his remaining tears “And I can just feel it.”

Both of you moved to sit side by side against the statue.

He tried to avoid your eyes but you knew better. You held him in your arms.

“Kalim Al Asim. You’re so incredible.”

His breath hitches.

“You make everyone’s day brighter. You listen when someone wants to talk about something important, no matter how happy or sad it is. You stand up for what’s wrong, you take responsibility. Kalim, you’re incredibly kind to others. Even if you don’t have great grades, you work hard now and it doesn’t define who you are. You have this sense when someone is struggling, you drop everything just to make them smile. That to me, to a lot of people, is so much more important than being “smart”.”

Tears leak out of his eyes as he listens to your words. You cup his cheeks warmly.

“You aren’t stupidly naive but optimistic. You aren’t stupid, you just struggle with things and that’s so so ok. You changed for the better after his overblot while still being the kindest person I know.”

“Your kindness is a weapon Kalim. A warm and loving weapon.”

He starts to cry and you hold him tight in your arms as he breaks down. All the stress, anxiety, fear, anger, and everything just spilling out of him.

His grip on your jacket is tight and you can feel his tears on your clothes but you don’t care.

“I love you Kalim.”

“I-I l-love you too…”

It’ll take a lot longer than just a night to get rid of any of these deeply tangled issue. But it is so much better to have your boyfriend free from his toxic positivity.

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oneirataxiahiraeth · 1 year

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can u write something where kai & the reader r using knife play on each other omg & blood sharing like the reader is a vampire or something that is so hot

The Red Means…

Pairing : vamp!reader x kaiparker

Warnings : mentions of blood, blood sharing, wearing, mentions of magic, choking, blood drinking, overstimulation, knife play, smut, swearing

Word Count : 5.7k

A/N :

Kai and Blood Sharing??? Kai and Knife kink??? I haven’t heard of a better idea ever in my life <3 this has been in my drafts for far too long and I haven’t posted in literally forever and I’m so sorry about it<333 but I hope you loved enjoy, this might be my longest piece yet too!

If there was a lesson you would have loved to learn before today, it would be not to snoop around in a witch's garden.

Which is exactly what you did. Which is why you were in the exact position you were right now. Thrashing and groaning in the passenger seat of the car while Damon drove 90 miles and hour back to the boarding house.

"How and is it on a scale from 1-10?" He asked, so much concern present on his features and laced in his tone. "Y/N?! shit." He seethed when you just responded in a pain filled moan, fingernails ripping into the pristine leather of you car seat.

Your body was hot, and the amount of clothes you were wearing wasn't helping the situation in the slightest. It was a painfully familiar heat... one you felt when you first turned. Of course, it wasn't as terrible as this, but that's the only feeling you could connect this to. You didn't want to admit it, but it was hard not to. You were horny. More than usual, of course. You couldn't tell if the hunger you were also feeling was connected to this... feeling, but it certainly wasn't helping. You couldn't even keep in your fangs. They just kept coming out, making sure to have their presence known. Whatever witchy herb you managed to get yourself into was working actual numbers on you.

By the time you reached the boarding house you would've done the most sinful things to be alone with a blood bag. The plan was to lock yourself in your room, hoping that a little major self care moment and a blood bag or 5 would get rid of this insatiable hunger. But Damon wouldn't leave you. He forced himself under you, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you inside. He was worried, and you found it oh so sweet, but god you couldn't wait to get away from him. The second he figured out what was happening you'd never hear the end of it.

"Bonnie?!" Was the first name he called once he bursts through the door. "Stefan?!" He yelled again, hoping that someone would answer. "Where the hell is everybody?!" He grumbling once again.

It was at this point that you could smell it. Whatever it was. It was strong. Dominating you nose and sending the most pleasurable tingles straight to you core, causing such dampness in between your legs you feared that it's show through your jeans.

"It's so early, too early to be yelling-" Kai's voice rang through the living room as he sat up from the couch. His eyes were half closed, eyebrows raised to suspicion what's he saw the clear muddled state you were in. "and too early to be dealing with whatever that is." He groaned as he stood from the couch, letting off a moan as he stretched the sleep from his muscles. The sound eliciting a small quaint moan from you lips, which Damon took as a noise of pain.... Thankfully. "What is that exactly?" Kai asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

You could hear his foot steps growing closer to where Damon stood with you limp in his arms. You wanted to protest, the scent that struck you when you first entered growing stronger every step he grew closer, then you felt it.

Kai.

"I don't know, but something's wrong." Damon spoke, his voice in somewhat of a panic.

"Obviously." Kai remarked, the deepened of his voice earning another noise from you.

His scent. His voice. Him. You wanted it. You needed it. More than you have ever needed anything ever in your entire life. You had noticed Kai before. His smile, his eyes, the absolute charm he held, you were no stranger to it. But right now, it was like all of those things were sending you over the edge. It was a struggle knowing he was right there and having to keep yourself sane. Every fiber of your being wanted him in ways you couldn't even explain to be reasonable.

You and Kai didn't have much of a relationship. Not even a friendship to be perfectly honest. You spoke when it was necessary or you where in the same room. You got stuck alone with him from time to time which you pretended to hate but you didn't find him all that bad. Every now and again there was a bit of harmless flirting between the two of you but that was all. It was nothing totally outrageous but it was common. And you hoped like hell he didn't make any sly remark that might cause you to lose grip on whatever reality you were clinging to.

"You're a witch. Fix her!" Damon spoke up and you prepared yourself to protest... for real this time.

"Damon" you groaned, trying to push away from the the vampire holding onto you. "Let me go." You wriggled from his grip, stumbling onto your feet, knees weaker than you anticipated. You nearly fell, but of course, Kai was right there to catch you. You ducked in a sharp breath before pushing away from him, gathering everything in you to race up the stairs in just seconds. Both Damon and Kai stood confused for only a moment before hearing a room door slam shut.

"Geez... what did you do to her?" Kai asked, a light tone in his voice.

"I didn't anything!" Damon defended only to get a raised eyebrow in response. "We were searching for some weird herb Bonnie had been looking for and she ran into this plant and started acting all weird-"

"Herbs?"

"Yes, herbs! I don't know what was what but obviously whatever it is she got into is messing her up bad."

You locked the door right behind you. Almost immediately, you began to shed off all the constricting clothing you had on. You were such a mess it felt humiliating. A light sweat breaking out across your skin as laid out across your bed, immediately trying to find some sort of relief.

You mumbled out curse words, and thought of the most erotic things your mind could imagine but none of them good enough. Not when you remembered the best sex you've ever had, or you're favorite porn video. Not even when you switched position, trying the usual things that have you trembling with pleasure by the time you were done. Nothing. None of it was working and you knew exactly why. Because they were him. The scent of him still lingered in your nose, filling in the images in your mind with him face. Your demented sick brain thinking of all the things you would allow him to do to you. Thinking of what it would feel like to be pinned down and beg for mercy at the likes of him. Nothing even brought you close until you're mind began flooding with thoughts of him. Even then, even as you felt the built up nothing stuck. It would be so good then slip away almost immediately.

This was certainly going to be a long night.

"I-I-I don't know, it was spiky and she said it like pricked her finger and she started feeling weird." Damon spoke, pacing back and forth in the living room as he tried explaining to Kai what happened step by step.

"I'd have to go up and ask her about more symptoms but there's not much I can do with that." Kai answered honestly.

"What do you mean? How many prickly plants do you know that can this?"

"None. But what you just described sounds like a cactus. And the spindle from sleeping beauty."

"Minus the sleeping and the beauty part." Damon cracked. "I'll call Bonnie and see what she can find out, but just do something to fix her, even if it's just momentarily." Damon sighed, before pulling out his phone and walking off.

You cried out once again in frustration, back flopping down from its arch as you managed to edge yourself for the 4th time in the past 14 minutes. You were on the edge and slowly breaking down. With all your whines and panting you almost didn't hearing the footsteps coming quickly down the hall. The scent attached to Kai became stronger and you prayed he wasn't coming to check on you. Seeing him right now was dangerous for you. With the quaking hunger and the lustful desires for him, you didn't know whether you'd be able to keep your cool once you saw him.

"Y/N?" There was a soft knock at the door. You popped up from your bed, cursing to yourself as you hurried trying to find the clothes you tossed all around the room. "Are you okay? I mean- I know you're not okay, but are you like dead or something?" He asked, tone light and warm. "Don't respond if you are." He smiled to himself at the joke.

"Go away." You groaned, slipping up your underwear seconds before the door began to open.

You were a sweaty mess, parts of your skin more red than other, your face was a shade lighter than the rest of your body, and you stood in an awkward stance trying to cover yourself which really helped nothing.

"Oh wow." Kai blinked, not caring enough to look away at first.

"The door was locked for a reason!" You whined before he turned his head to the side after ogling the hell out of you.

"Was it?" He hummed in response knowing full well he had unlocked the door with his magic before coming in. Of course, if he had known you were half naked, he wouldn't have entered. "I uhm... didn't notice." Slowly he began turn his head back to you, making sure to keep his eyes level to yours, which was possibly the cruelest thing he could've done in that moment.

"What? What do you want?!" You snapped, dang making their appearance as you noticed the redness in his cheeks and the points of his ears. There was a single vein sticking out of the left side of his neck and you swore you could hear his heart pounding your name every 2 seconds.

"Damon told me a little about the plant you ran into but I need to be sure about the symptoms before I can start looking into anything to help." He explained and you let out a harsh sigh.

"I don't know- I don't know- I don't- fuck." You bent over, hands on your knees as you felt the waves of hunger and shocks of pleasure flowing through you. "I'm so..." horny. "Hungry."

"... like burger hungry or-"

"I need blood, kai!" You griped and he nodded. You stood straight quickly, eyes back on his, fighting against the urges but for some reason you just had to be closer. "I need. blood." you were face to face with him in seconds. His scent fueling every drive you had.

"Good, I figured, so I brought you this." He moved his hand from his back to reveal the blood bag he bought from the cellar. "I didn't know which type you preferred so I just grabbed one." Without question you snatched the bag from his hands, tearing into it without guilt.

At first it tasted like you've never eaten anything before in your life... then... it started tasting like rotten flesh. So your raced to the trash can to spit it out.

"No, no, no" you cried shoving the blood bag away from you. Kai watched in confusion before picking up the bag that stopped just inches away from him.

Could you be hungry for him too?

"So..." kai hummed blandly. "Your not hungry?"

"This isn't funny!" You scolded but he just smiled.

"I'm not laughing."

"Get out! Please just leave me alone!" You begged but that didn't really work on him.

"Damon said I had to fix you."

"You can't fix me!" You stated.

"I take that as a challenge." He hummed, and the sultry in his voice made you nearly melt into the floor. "Maybe you just need fresh blood." You stood from the trash, refusing to face him. Looking at him would result in a rush of feelings that you didn't need. "Come on." He held out his wrist as if he wasn't playing with his life.

"Are you out of your mind? Get the hell out!" You'd napped but still he didn't budge.

"Don't make this difficult." He sighed. Then you turned, using the scariest vamp face you could, baring your teeth, threatening him once more. "Motus." He said calmly, bringing you right into his grasped against your already weak will. Your neck found home right in the palm of his hand, earning a particularly filthy moan. His eyes widened for just a moment, head tilted to the side at the reaction.

With the lack of clothing, body rejecting the blood, and slightly trembling in his hands, all of this started to piece together in his mind.

"That's... interesting." He squeezed his fingers around your neck very slightly earning another noise which sent a jolt of excitement through him.

"Kai please" you whimpered, hands wrapping around his arm. You easily could've pried him off of you, but you didn't want to. You needed him on you, you needed him so bad it hurt.

"I think I know what plant you ran into now." He hummed as if it was no big deal. "And luckily for you, I know a few ways to stop... this" he scanned you up and down, hand not budging around your burning skin.

"I'll do anything, kai, please just fix me." You begged with tears in your eyes.

"It's not actually that simple." He released you from his grip, hand dropping slowly, watching as your lips formed a tiny pout. "You ran into some ancient herb with a name way to Long to pronounce correctly that stimulates certain hormones. Your senses are on overdrive, like how they'd be when you first turned. You became faster, stronger, you're hearing and sight grew better, it's all that 10x over." He explained.

"So like vampire steroids?"

"Something like that." Kai shrugged. "You said your hungry, but your body rejected the blood, so it could be that you need fresh blood." He spoke, holding out his arm for you. "Take the fresh blood." He spoke, but you just shook your head. "Obviously you want it no need to be stubborn about to, y/n." He rolled his eyes and you struggled to keep away from his offer. "You don't understand I-I can't drink from you."

"Oh my god, you people are so dramatic these days." Kai groaned. He took the blood bag in his other hand and brought it to his mouth. His eyes flickered to you before mumbling a quick "you are so gonna owe me for this" and taking a bit of the blood into his mouth. You watched in shock, core quivering at the sight of him, a drop of blood hanging off his lip before he shook his head, mixing the blood in his mouth to get it warm.

Since you couldn't drink the cold blood, and refused to drink directly from him, maybe body temperature blood would do the trick.

He grabbed you again, you closer. His hand found the back of your neck, leaning you head back. You opened you mouth to protest before you could feel his lips on yours.

You let off a muffled moan, inviting the screaming pleasure in your panties to fill your mind as the hot blood trickled into your mouth. Soon you became less concerned with the blood and more concerned with the way his hands kept you in place. You wished they would travel to regions you've just spent exploring, but the stayed in place. Almost as if he was trying to be gentleman about what was happening.

"You're a way better kisser than I thought." Kai hummed once he figured he'd given you all the blood he had in his mouth. He released you once again, earning a soft whine. "How do you feel?"

"I uhm, I don't- oh my god" you huffed, trying to catch your breath. "the uhm- it was warm I think I uhm, I don't know" you rambled trying to look everywhere but him. Then that when you felt it... again.

You raced back to the trash can, rejecting the human temped blood into the now tainted white bag.

"And now I have my answer." Kai nodded.

"What?" You wiped the blood from your lips looking back to the siphon.

"Besides hunger what else do you feel?" He asked and you felt your stomach tighten.

"I don't know what your talking about..."

"The plant Damon described originates somewhere the Middle East. It's extremely rare, and is commonly find is some of the oldest, most powerful "love" spells ever recorded in any grimoire." He went on to explain. "Along with your senses, the plant amplifies you're wants and desires, especially wants and desires involving a particular person."

"Ok..."

"I guess what I'm asking is... without being too vulgar... are you horny?"

"How fast can you fix me?" You blinked, lips in a tight line.

"Well, that's the tricky part. I can't necessarily 'fix' you unless you're like totally obsessed with me" he smirked and you felt your heart drop. "Along with the hunger you should being lusting for a specific person and if you haven't pieced it together by now, in order to stop all this..."

"I need to have sex with the 'object of my desires'" you're face scrunched at the words and he nodded.

"Pretty neat how this witchy stuff works huh?" Kai smiled. "You also have to feed on them. I actually remember back in the prison world that it's better to do both preferably at the same time, the adrenaline causes a-"

"There's another fix right? Another way to stop this?" You gripped the trash can.

"Somewhat. I could cast a spell to speed up the process for you-"

"Why didn't you lead with that?!"

"You're cute when you get flustered" he winked "and you'd be in excruciating pain for the next 17 hours... and this way doesn't ensure that the plants effect will entirely wear off." He shrugged.

"What?!"

"Of course you could also wait this out but that'd be like a good few days, or weeks, months even." He spoke as if this wasn't the hardest news to hear.

"So my options are-"

"Breakfast in bed, excruciating pain with side effects, or you can stay like this" kai smiled widely.

"Fuck." You whined.

"So the first choice?" He spoke.

"Y- no! No no no." You whined. "The first option is out of the question!"

"It'd be the quickest and least painful." He tried but you weren't budging.

"Oh my god, please shut up."

"Just text whoever it is, and ask them to help. The worst they could do is say no, and besides who wouldn't want to-" his mouth was moving so fast he couldn't even process the thoughts being spewed out before he caught himself. "help... you..." he cleared his throat.

"You don't understand!" Your tone was a little more assertive than before which caught his attention. "Please just get out!" He didn't argue this time.

He stared at you for just a moment before walking out and closing the door. He stood outside of the door, staring at the knob. Slowly, in what might have been his narcissism chipping away at his brain he started putting pieces together. Horny. Hungry. Wouldn't feed from him. You kept the blood in his mouth down longer than it coming straight from the bag, which didn't make sense. You should've had the same immediate reaction. Kai stood there confused and hesitant. If what he was thinking was true, he had to be the dumbest person on earth not to see it before. Or maybe if it was wrong, the most self centered.

Before he could stop himself he opened the door once again. You were now hunched over the bed, breathing heavy, head hanging down, trying to ignore the temptation that just won't seem to go away.

Kai reached into his back pocket, walking closer to the bed. He pulled out a small switch knife. It had a black steeled blade with red markings, and silver engravings. It was sharp enough to slice through a piece of paper and to draw out just the smallest bit of blood with going too deep in the skin.

"One more thing before I go." He hummed, bringing the blade to his hand and slicing the edge of his palm. Blood immediately surged to the area, slowly pooling in the cut before slowly gliding around his hand.

Your head snapped up at the increasing smell of him. He was right next to you at this point, basically shoving himself in your face. It was like he wanted to break you. Wanted you to fail in whatever moral mission you were trying to accomplish.

"What are you doing?" You tried to back away but it was useless.

"Just one drink." You were frozen still, as Kai walked around you. His chest brushing against your back, arm wrapped around you, bringing his wounded hand up to your trembling lips. You had tears in your eyes, fangs out and ready as you tried fighting it. "Just one."

"Please don't, I can't." You whimpered, as he touched your lip with the blood oozing from him palm. It was too hard to resist it. The second your tongue darted out to taste it, it felt like something took over you completely. Your lips connecting to his flesh, your hands gripping his wrist as you used him as a wall to keep yourself from falling over.

He fought himself from smiling as you licked up the blood from his hand, continuing to nurse the wound, but never using your fangs.

"Good girl, that wasn't so hard was it?" Kai placed his hand on your waist, fingers sending the dirtiest of thought coursing through you. "Can you keep it down?" His voice was almost a whisper, and he almost felt silly when you didn't respond right away.

"I... I need more." You're grip on his wrist lightened as you turned to face the siphon.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I don't bite." He teased. "I'm not complaining though, that blood bit before? That was hot."

"If you don't leave, I don't think-"

"If I wanted you to control yourself I wouldn't be in here." Kai grumbled as if he'd heard this speech a million times.

"I don't think you understand what your saying."

"Fine. I'll make the first move." He grabbed your face before muttering a quick "again."

Your lips connecting so harshly, barely giving you anytime to think. You melted right into him, hands choosing to get lost in the hair at the nape of his neck. The scruff from his freshly grown beard scraping against your face. You couldn't say you minded it at all, but even with giving info just one of your desires it still wasn't enough.

"No, no, I can't" you mumbled against his lips. You were trembling, and you could still taste the blood on his lips but it wasn't making you sick. It felt good. You're skin didn't feel as hot, and those coils in your stomach were getting just a bit looser. "please don't do this-"

He took his same knife, introduced the blade to a fresh patch of skin on his wrist. The dark blade drawing red lines, just overloading the poor vampires senses. You let out a sharp noise, as he brought the flesh back up in front of you.

"You said you needed more right? Take it." His voice was deep and so sure.

You were weak. That's the only way you could describe this. Your fangs sunk right into the wound, a moan leaving your lips at the taste. Kai's hands rested on the back of your head as you tried your best to control yourself. His head growing lighter, and pants a bit tighter. Maybe he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help it, this was just

"I want to." He let out breathily.

"What if I hurt you?"

"I can take a little pain."

"What if Damon-"

"The more the merrier"

"Kai please-"

"The next words out of your mouth better be good."

"Fuck me."

You're back hit the mattress in only a matter on minutes. Kai climbing on top of you without thought. You legs spread to welcoming him his presence. His hips resting against yours as your lips connected once more. The kisses were sloppy, passionate, and rough. You didn't care to hide your moans, or whines as you felt his jeans graze against the soft damp fabric of your panties.

"Need you to touch me" you panted, hands gliding under his shirt, feeling the smooth skin beneath. Part of you wished you could just crawl into his skin, getting as closer as possible to relief. "Please." There was so much desperation in your voice it was just so hard not to give in.

The kisses just got less and less composed, kiss lips leaving trails all along your jawline, suck bruises that wouldn't last for more than a few seconds. You pleaded and begged for more, whining and you felt his hand slip into your ruined panties. Kai was shocked at how wet you were, his fingers just slipped right through your folds, like you'd been waiting for him your entire existence. Part of him knew it was just the plant and the increased libido, the other part of him chose to focus on the fact that he was the only one who can satisfy you in this state. You wanted him this bad. And he was surely going to soak it in.

"Please I need it so bad" you we're near tears, frustration and somewhat of discomfort raging through you.

He obliged, slipping one finger into your entrance. You left out a soft moan, gripping his biceps a little tighter than you had, signaling him for more. So he gave you more. Your blinking became inconsistent, eyes not knowing whether they wanted to stare at him or fall back. He watched carefully as he pumped in just two fingers, scissoring them in as his hand slowly became covered in your slick. Every thrust of his fingers his palm came in contact with your clit. The most sinful lewd wet sounds filling the air along with your beautiful cries and pants.

"God, I thought your voice was hot before, but this is just something else" he chuckled, the sound echoing through your mind sending you right over the edge.

"Fuck" you cried out, breathing erratic and stomach tightening as you get just a bit of the pressure release before it built back up again. "I need more. Please, I need it I need you"

"You have such good manners." Kai smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck.

"I need you inside of me, Kai." You pleaded, only seeing how amused Kai was by the situation. His smile making the vein on the side of his neck more prominent than usual. "This will make the hunger go away right? This will help?" You asked, naked bloody thought coursing through your mind.

"Nope, you still have to feed." Kai spoke, removing his hand from you panties, fingers glossy and covered with your arousal. Without thought he sucked off the slick from his hand, moaning at the taste, pushing his crotch a bit more into yours making sure you could feel the bulge growing in his pants. "You won't hurt me, y/n, I'll live." He stated but you just couldn't. You couldn't even look at him, it was too much. The touching, his voice, his scent, it was clouding over everything. "Y/N." He spoke again, using a hand to grip onto you chin, forcing you to look back up to him.

"just give me time," you're voice was small. "I can't- not now... I really just need you inside of me."

"don't act so sweet now, y/n, what do you want?" He teased, dropping the matter of feeding... for now.

"I want you in-"

"What do you want." He repeated, not happy with the answer she was trying to provide.

"Please Fuck me." She whined. "I need your cock in me so bad, Kai." He wasted no time in giving into the girl underneath him.

It was slow and sensual. You're jaw fell as he pushed so deep into you, you could practically taste him on your tongue. You're eyes were struggling to stay open, jaw trembling as you let out a high pitched squeak.

If you knew how good this would feel before, you would've been a lot less hesitant earlier.

"Shit" he groaned, your grip on his arms tightening as your hips connected. "You're so fucking tight"

"I'm so close, kai, please" you whined.

His hips retracted before slamming into you once more. The sinful noises out of your mouth filled the air, and suddenly nothing mattered. You didn't care that Damon could possibly hear, or about the amount of judgement you'd face once this was all over. You felt the best and worse you love ever felt at the same time, just chasing after a feeling that only Kai was able to gift to you.

"Fuck you're so deep" you cried out, mind spiraling to depths you e never experienced before.

His grunts filled you're ears as his head dipped down. Sounds so raw and beautiful just sweetening the moment.

But you could feel it. That hunger. It was so strong, so needy, you couldn't fight against it. You're fangs exposed themselves against your will. Veins under you eyes showcasing themselves as you tried to contain the emotion. His skin was just so close to yours it made it hard to resist. His neck on display right next to your face. The light layer of sweat he built up calling your name.

You tongue darted out, tasting the salty mess he worked up.

"I'm so sorry" you're whimpered out, not giving much warning as to what you were about to do. You fangs came in contact with the sensitive skin on his neck, sinking in so deeply you swore you heard a moan from the man currently fucking the life out of you.

"Shit" he groaned, slowly his movements as you took what you deemed necessary. Hips grinding up into his, to provide yourself even more pleasure. It didn't take long. With the taste of his blood taking over your tongue and his cock twitching inside of you feeling like it was almost ready to burst, you couldn't help it. “Holy shit” he moaned out.

It was euphoric, but you still needed more. You nothing something more.

“Harder, please give it to me harder”

“Got my cock and my blood, yet your still not satisfied?” The siphon teased, blood now rolling from his wounds. Every now and then a drop falling onto you chest, and he pounded into you.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good” you had tears in your eyes, finally feeling some relief that hopefully would’ve been permanent. You’re hands now feelings over his blushing muscles, smearing blood against his skin, getting the liquid sex all over your fingers and deep into your cuticles. He watched as you popped three blood coated fingers into your mouth, sucking off the juices very carefully. Moaning loudly as he showed no mercy to you.

After a few seconds of lightheaded mess from loss of blood, Kai took a quick look around before locating the long disregarded pocket knife from earlier. At the foot of the bed, which was easy to acquire, he flipped out the blade and choose the spot he wanted.

He snatched your fingers from your mouth, earning a pouty whine. Like a scene from the more erotic movie he then replace your tongue with his, finishing the job you started, and doing it oh so well. You watched in awe, as he took his blade, slicing you once across the wrist, immediately bringing the skin up to his mouth before the wound could close. Your jaw dropped at the notion.

Blood sharing was something so… intimate… personal. Something you had never seen you’re doing with someone in a million years. Yet here you were getting the immortality fucked out of you while your crush fed on you.

That was just enough to send you spiraling.

Your legs began to twitch, can’t tightening around his cock. Tears slipping down your cheek, and your free hand gripping the sheets so tightly you swore you heard a ripping sound. Kai had never witnessed such a erotic sight, you eyes struggling to stay open, and you body shivering as he continued to fuck you through your high. The tightness and the way you cried out his name over and over like it was the only thing you could say sent him over the edge. Once he felt he was as deep as he could get he let himself go, hips stiffening, breathing heavy, and warm seed painting your hot walls without concern from either of you.

And that’s when you noticed it.

The pain. The discomfort. It was gone.

“Holy Fuck” kai pants out, slowly allowing himself to collapse on top of you.

The two do you laid there for a few moments in simple silence. Kai hadn’t even thought about pulling out, his seed sitting inside of you causing you a fullness in two different ways. You caught your breaths together, legs still trembling from the mind numbing orgasms.

“That was… uhm… really good.” You spoke, voice low and kinda of raspy.

“We should’ve done that way sooner.” Kai chuckles, his head resting next to you neck. “God that was amazing.” You smiled, heart picking up in pace.

“Thank you, by the way-”

“No thank you, if you weren’t as clueless as you were you wouldn’t have found that plant, and you never would’ve told me how you felt about me and then-”

“And back to being an ass”

#wattpad #vampire diaries #kai parker smut #the cw legacies #damon salvatore #malachi parker #stefan salvatore #tvd smut #tvd imagine #tvd fanfiction

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hobiebrownismygod · 3 months

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I have a request :D rivals to lovers with Hobie? Basically the garage in which Hobie’s band practices is right next to another garage which the reader uses (maybe for ballet or dance but feel free to decide whatever u think is best) and she routinely goes there to fire him for being so loud and our guy is just as cocky as he possibly can be

Idk I had this idea and I love love LOVE ur writing so 😁

OMGGG I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH!! Sorry it took me so long to answer pookie 😞 but I hope you like it!! <3

It'd been a very, very long day.

So of course, you'd been looking forward to coming home and rewinding, playing some gentle music and practicing your positions. You found the repetition calming, counting through each step in your head to stay on beat.

"One, two, three, four, five and turn, one two, three, four, five and turn, one two..." you mumbled under your breath quietly, as you watched yourself in the mirror, scrutinizing each move, each step, as you inched yourself closer and closer to perfection.

You were all alone, the lights were dimmed and the only noise you could hear was the soft music playing and your quiet, deep breaths, held tightly in your diaphragm as you kept your back up straight and tight, slowly turning with grace and poise.

CRASH

You nearly stumbled back at the sudden noise, eyes shooting up towards the door and narrowing when you realized who it must've been. That familiar accent could be heard through the walls, loud and cocky as ever.

"Hobie Brown." You grumbled under your breath, grabbing your sweater and pulling it over your head to cover your ballet attire before walking towards the door.

The sweet-voiced, yet sadistic punk that lived next door never failed to get on your nerves. Him and his band were almost always blasting your eardrums with their wretched playing and loud voices. You had to admit, their music was fairly good, but you definitely did not want to hear it at the moment.

"Hobie Brown!"

The lanky man, draped across a battered couch, looked over his shoulder at you as you stood at the entrance of his garage door, fingers still playing with the strums of the guitar in his hand. "Well if it isn't my favorite lass! What're you doin' here dove?" He laughed, tilting his head back and waggling his eyebrows at you.

"I thought we had an agreement! You get from 3:00 to 6:00 and I get peace and quiet from 6:00 to 9:00." You said annoyedly, folding your arms over your chest as you glared at the other members of his band.

He sighed, shaking his head before slowly sitting up from the couch, sleepy eyes fixated on you. "What time is it?"

"It's 7:45." You hissed.

He smiled. "Might be a bit late for you then, aye? Maybe you should go to bed, dove, you look cranky." He teased. You scowled in response and his eyes widened slightly. "I'm just messing with ya, love, no need to get all pouty." he chuckled.

"God you're suck a prick!" You said angrily, eyes narrowed at him. "Is it impossible for you to play a little more quietly? Or play at someone else's home for once?" You asked, gesturing at his silent bandmates who were all awkwardly trying to ignore the two of you.

"I could..." He admitted, cocking his head to the side and shoving his hands into his pockets as he began to approach you. "But then I wouldn't get the chance to see you. You see, I quite enjoy these little squabbles." He said, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes.

You felt your face heat up slightly and immediately cleared your throat aggressively, leaning away from him. He continued to lean forward, hands clasped behind his back as he grinned mischievously at you. "What? Does this make you uncomfortable?"

"Oh shut up." you muttered, taking a step back and glaring up at him. "Just play quieter." You turned away from him as quickly as you could before you headed back towards the door.

Suddenly, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and you shot your head back to see him raising an eyebrow at you. "You forgot the magic word."

"The magic word?" You asked confusedly.

"You know...the magic word." He grinned stupidly, folding his arms over his chest. "Maybe if you say it, I'll turn the volume down, dove."

"Oh piss off-"

"Ah, wrong word" He said, wagging a finger in your face as you attempted to leave again. "Come on, just say it once and we'll leave you alone" he winked.

You sighed, staring up at him with your hands on your hips. "Please." you mumbled.

"What was that?" He asked, leaning in with a hand cupping his ear, smiling widely.

"Please?" You asked a little louder.

"Please what?"

"Hobie, come on-"

"Please what?"

You groaned, tapping your foot on the floor. "Can you turn the volume down, please?" You asked, biting the inside of your cheek in frustration.

He chuckled deeply, standing up straight and looking down at you. "For you? Anything, dove." And with that, he took a step back, bowing you out as you practically ran out of the room in embarrassment, scrambling back to your garage and closing the door with a loud, exasperated groan.

"Cocky prick." You muttered, pulling your sweatshirt off roughly and tossing it on the floor next to your ballet bag. You noticed that the volume had decreased significantly, and although welcomed, it wasn't doing anything to help hide your flushed expression.

His taunts were infuriating and that stupid smile sent chills up your spine. Oh what you would give to wipe that smirk off his face.

But then of course, you quite liked his smirk. More than you'd ever truly admit. It was too bad you'd never tell him...at least, not yet.

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @axels-garden @s6onder @eli21345

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hashbrowpn · 4 months

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──★ ˙HE WAS JUST A ROBOT ̟ !!

SCARAMOUCHE is just a robot. He isn't, and never will be a human. But he will do anything in his power to try.

NOTES: this is so confusing to read .. oopsies ..

EDIT: the end of this was slightly modified ! sorry for the inconvenience !

IMPORTANT POINTS: SCARAMOUCHE'S MEMORIES ARE IN ITALICIZED TEXT.

"shut down." you stammered, voice quavering as your lower back hit the corner of your work table, making you hiss in pain. Nonetheless, you drew in a sharp breath, repeating, "Shut down!"

"Now, you don't really want that, don't you?" Scaramouche said, his joints creaking as he stepped closer. The blue light engraved in his pale chest flickered at your commands, but it didn't dim. You fumbled desperately behind you, your fingers finding their way to a wrench laying on your table. "Shut,"- you stabbed it into his porcelain face, right into his left eye- "down!"

A stirring noise was heard. He blinked, half of his face showing red and blue wires sticking out. But he smiled unexpectedly. A shadow cast over his broken mask as he let out a laugh, as if he was amused by your attempts. He was. You recoiled your arm, but he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight, digging into your skin. You cried out in pain, using your other hand to swat him away desperately. "Why would you want to shut me down, Y/N?" he says your name sweetly, the same name he had carved into his memory the moment he was made. He remembered. How could he not?

"I am Y/N." you had told him, stroking his hair out of his face, his eyes full of curiosity as he fixed his gaze on yours. "Your creator." you brought your hand to your forehead and wiped away some sweat. He stared at you. Y/N. "And you will follow my every word, hm?"

His body whirred, robotically raising his head at your command.

Y/N.

creator.

His voicebox whizzed into life. "Yes."

You smiled, and traced your fingertips down from his cold collarbone, to his chest, tracing the blue light illuminating your face in the dark shed.

"Shut down."

His body went slack at your command.

"You've spent weeks," his voice dropped to a whisper. "months," He trapped your arms above your head, making you sob. "years..." Suddenly his face was inches from yours. "...working on me."

He paused.

"Is there something wrong with me, Y/N? did I do something wrong?"

He was just a robot. But why? why could you hear sincerity in his voice? the way his eyes slightly drooped?

You seemed to forget how to breath as his other hand climbed up your shirt, his cold touch against your burning skin as his palm pressed against your chest, feeling the harsh drumming of your heart.

"This is your heart." you had told him, guiding his gaze down on the gleaming blue diamond on his pale body.

"If it is a heart," he mutters, refusing to look at you. "Then why doesn't it beat?"

You scoffed. "Why need a heartbeat?"

He pauses a little, then tries to imitate your scoff, a low, odd hum from his throat, fascinated by the sounds one can make. He replies, "A beating heart is what makes a human."

"Scaramouche," you turn away for a second to chug the remains of water in your bottle. "You aren't a human."

"...Is that not the goal, Y/N?" his voice almost broke at the realization. Was it true, that he didn't seem to share the same desires as you?

"What, you want to magically turn into one?"

He catches his own words before they escape his mouth when he hears the sarcasm in your words.

"So this is a heartbeat." he mused. "How fascinating."

"I want to be a human, Y/N." he protests, once again trying to do his imitation of you scoffing. "Surely, that's what you want as well?"

You don't reply, your expression unreadable in the dark. Still, he admires your figure.

"I want to be a human, Y/N." he said. "I want to be like you."

you sigh. "Scaramouche, please don't get your hopes up." but he clears his throat to interrupt, a loud whirring noise coming to life inside him. Interrupting had been something he picked up from you. You look at him with disdain. He looks at you with his lips turned up, his attempt to smile. "I will become a human, Y/N. So we can live as humans together..."

you struggle against him, shivering from his touch. You couldn't seem to imagine him as one of your kind with wires sticking out from the broken part of his face.

"...Cause, I like you, Y/N." he had smiled, imitating the one he saw when he first cracked open his eyes. "Of course you do. I made you." you reply, busying yourself as you cleaned out your drawers. "Is that how it works?" he asks. "Do humans like their creators as well?"

He waits for your reply, but you stay silent. He slides off your work table, but he falls onto his knees. "Scaramouche!" you gasp, whirling around, immediately coming to his aid. "What are you doing!?"

He was just a robot. But why? why did he feel desire, as his gaze fixed on your worrying face? why did he feel the need to feel the heat of your body near his? why did he feel something as he saw your expression? had you really cared for him, him, who was just a robot?

"I want to stand up." he demands, flexing his arms. His body noisily creaked. "Oh my God," you sigh. "I have to fix you up again."

"Y/N,-" his voice goes an octave higher. "You don't have to-"

"Shut down, Scaramouche."

And he tries his best to fight it, but his eyelids fall heavily, and his head droops. The last thing he remembers when you say that is the odd sensation washing over him, possibly a feeling. Perhaps fear, or anger, or sadness? it didn't matter. He felt something.

He felt.

"You don't seem to see my efforts, Y/N." he sighed, his hand leaving your chest.

"I like you... you're the reason I learned how to be a human."

he grinned, an eery image for someone like him. "You cared for me, like a human does." He draws in a breath. "Humans care for each other, so I wonder, if I could never be one, why is it that I feel myself care for you?"

He felt something thrum against his chest seeing you quiver. "I want to be a human." he had said it so many times, and you simply brushed him off. But not anymore. Not now. He didn't care if he had just said it. He would repeat it over and over until it was the only thing that was engraved in your mind, like when you engraved your name into his. He turned his lips upright, storing the memory of your scared face in the back of his mind. "So, for starters..." He brushed your hair out of your face, the blue light on his chest finally dimming out. "Humans don't shut down on other's commands."

#ashrodisiac #𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ashrodisiac #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader fluff #android scaramouche #robot scaramouche #scara x reader fluff #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader fluff

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

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can i please request a feysand x reader where they’re at the high lord meeting at the dawn court and tamlin runs his mouth. When he said ”have you ever noticed that little noise she makes when she climaxes” i was so disgusted by him. Literally ew. Could i pls request a drabble where reader punches him for it. She’s not dumb, she won’t do it in the middle of the meeting. She waits until he’s in a hallway and leaps on him and punches him. reader is newly mated to them so her protective instincts are running like crazy. all the things feyre and rhys told her tamlin did to them is blinding her with rage and she almost kills him bc obviously she’s the stonger one😎 PROTECTIVE READER IS GOATEDDDDD

You

Feysand x reader

A/n: I love protective reader

Warnings: violence

After that very exciting meeting you needed to blow off some steam. Tamlin’s words kept ringing in your mind. He might as well have called Feyre a whore. Rhys had to hold you back with his magic so you wouldn’t launch yourself at Tamlin.

At least Beron got what he deserved. You were so proud of Feyre for that display of power. It showed how wrong Ianthe and Tamlin were. You smiled to yourself as you aimlessly walked around.

The smile melted off your face as the scent of spring hot your nose. Anger flooded through your body as you saw Tamlin round the corner. You both stopped and stared at each other. “You,” you growled at him.

“Now y/n let’s be rash.” “Rash! You want me to think when you insulted my mates!” You rushed over to him and before Tamlin could react you had him pinned on the ground. Your knee was digging into his chest as you screamed bloody murder at the High Lord.

Your fist kept hitting his face over and over again. “How dare you?” Tamlin’s nose cracked under your fist. As you drew back to hit him again, your teeth bared at him, Tamlin caught your fist.

He squeezed your hand in a bone crushing grip. “Get. Off.” Tamlin flung you backwards and you slid halfway down the hall. You crouch and dive down into your power. The hall rumbles around you. Tamlin looked petrified. Good, you thought.

Before you could make another move Rhys and Cassian picked you up, Rhys pulled you to his chest and ran his fingers through your hair to calm you down. Thesan came running around the other corner helping Tamlin up.

The males were yelling at each other but you couldn’t hear anything. Your ears were ringing with the echoes of your power.

You closed your eyes and the next time you opened them you were back in your quarters with your mates. Feyre was in front of you cleaning Tamlin’s blood off your hands. You blinked confusingly at them before the memories of what happened came flooding back.

“I’m-I’m so sorry. He was just there and I was so mad at him.” Rhys cups your face in his hands. “Love, it’s ok. You were just defending your mates. The bond is so new that’s what we’re blaming it on, ok.” You nod at him.

Feyre places her hand on Rhys’s chest pushing him back. She takes your face in her hands now, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “It’s not a big deal y/n. I love you so much.” You nod in agreement. “I love you too, both of you. I’m going to take a bath and then we’ll relax.” You kissed them both on their cheeks and headed for the bathroom.

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mayolive-writes · 9 months

Text

Labret | Jungkook

Pairing: Dom!Jungkook x Sub!AFAB Reader

Summary: You surprise Jungkook with a new piercing. Needless to say, he likes it.

Wordcount: 957 Words

Genre: Smut, Established-Relationship, Drabble

Warnings: Unprotected sex (this is unholy behavior), jk is a tease (honestly what a bitch), jk also has all his ungodly piercings and tattoos, reader isn’t allowed to make any noise (rude), vaginal sex, pet names (baby, good girl, precious, bun), some breast play, edging, some fun banter near the end, jk may or may not have a thing for tats and piercings (not that we're surprised)

A/N: This is the Love Plaza Couple <3 This is set two years into their relationship! This is also the last piece I have prepared for this couple but there might be some more in the future, ya never know!

Enjoy!!

The Love Plaza | Moonlight Trampoline Adventure | Labret

Minors DNI

“Mmm, quiet baby.” Jungkook whispered softly against your lips. He had carefully positioned his mouth so that it only touched the corner of your lips, avoiding the new piercing in the center.

When you walked into his dorm that evening, ready to show off your new labret piercing, you hadn’t anticipated ending up like this, pressed firmly into Jungkook’s mattress as his hips moved rhythmically in and out of you. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, intense enough to make you need more, but too weak to ease your hunger.

If anyone had told you two years ago that Jungkook would grow into such a bitch during sex, you would’ve actually stopped yourself from confessing to him. Where was the sweet, awkward Koo that was nervous and unsure? When did he turn into a monster with a full sleeve of tattoos and several new facial piercings?

Let’s face it, you didn’t actually hate it. And you'd be more than willing to get more piercings if this was the result.

“Koo—” you almost bite your lip mindlessly to silence yourself, but Jungkook is quick to prod your mouth open with his fingers.

“Baby, no, you’ll hurt yourself,” he feigns concern, “the others are here, so you’ll just have to be a good girl,” There it is. His new favorite phrase. A despicable trick he now had in his top hat of magic. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, “Quiet.” His tone is gentle, but his thrusts are teasing, leaving you desperate and breathless. You almost can’t hold back a whimper, looking desperately into his eyes as you grab for the pillow beneath you.

“I’m kinda annoyed that it’ll be a while til’ I can kiss you properly, but I like it,” another peck against the corner of your mouth, “I’ll have to pick a new spot for my kisses, won’t I?” His lips move slowly along your jaw, “maybe here…” up, grazing your neck, “or here…” further down to your collarbones, “you’d look cute if I left some marks here, don’t ya’ think?” He glances up at you, but you can’t find the voice to respond when his cock keeps slipping in and out of you tantalizingly.

“Koo—Koo please, I can’t.” You beg, knowing it will get you nowhere.

“What, you want my roommates to hear you? Want them to hear how good I fuck you? How pretty you always sound with me?”

You find the strength to vehemently protest, “N-no, you know I don’t like others hearing.”

“Then just hold on tight baby, no sound. Promise I’ll make my girl feel so good, yeah?”

And Jungkook makes good on his promise. Minutes of you holding onto the pillow for dear life, legs wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s waist pass by quickly. As your orgasm creeps closer, it becomes harder and harder to keep silent. The urge to close your mouth or bite your lip is intense, but you breath heavily, helpless. Meanwhile, Jungkook keeps fucking into you, gradually going harder and harder, knocking the air from your lungs, His hands roam your body, and his lips focus on the corners of your mouth, kissing, licking, sucking on any part that isn’t near the sensitive flesh of your fresh piercing. “Fuck baby, I won’t be able to keep my mouth off you once it’s healed—” he breathes into your mouth, “so precious.”

You’re on the edge now, ready to fall over. Breathing heavily, the ability to keep your voice at bay weakens. A soft whine escapes. You quickly cut it off, but immediately lose control again when Jungkook’s lips attach to your breasts, tongue feeling around your nipple before latching on. A quiet moan that just keeps coming and coming. Soon, all you can do is whimper at every touch, every small movement.

“B-bun—ah—fuck—” you’re barley audible, “I can’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry— “

“Oh, baby, it’s okay.” He reassures you, continuing to fuck into you. You’re about to break. You’re seconds away.

Right.

There.

But he stops.

The bastard stops.

Jungkook smiles devilishly, “We’ll just try again, precious."

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

“Just like that, such a good Good girl.”

You’re on the edge again. Finally. You almost lose control of yourself, but you stubbornly remain silent. Jungkook can tell when you start to pull on him more and more that you’re only moments away from cumming. One last hard thrust breaks you, releasing your high, and with it, strangled and low moans release from your throat.

“K-koo, bun—”

Relief. The feeling of his cum releasing into you causes another sensation that makes your spine shiver.

You ride out your highs together, letting your breathing calm and letting your bodies become grounded again.

“You’re a prick.” You complain.

“What do you mean, I said I liked the piercing! And I let you cum, didn’t I?

“Oh, fuck off!”

“You broke the rules, babe.” Giggling, he shifts positions, pulling you on top of him, “It’s not my fault you can’t keep quiet, precious.” He leans in nuzzling your neck, “How bout’ we try another position?”

Taglist: @blairscott @hoseokteardrop @kookiesnpie

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

Hi 🙋‍♀️ it’s me again

Thank you for being lovely, I’m so glad your requests are open!

Little backstory, I have undiagnosed ✨ spinal issues ✨ which give me chronic back and neck pain. Despite this, I really like the feeling of pressure on my neck and back. Like someone’s firm grip on the back of my neck, or them snuggled up against my back. Idk just that contact makes me feel better.

Lately, my neck has been worse than normal and hurts whenever I do not have it rested against something like a pillow or headrest to help hold it up for me.

I was hoping it would be okay to request a little blurb or something of everyone’s favorite soft bad boy Frank Castle offering to give you a little neck massage?

hi my darling! thank YOU for being so lovely, and thank you so much for the request. you can absolutely request everyone's favorite soft bad boy whenever you want.

I apologize this took longer than I expected to get out, but I hope it brings you the comfort you need! i've dealt with back problems for years (nothing even close to what you're dealing with though, my poor angel) so I totally get how much it sucks when nothing seems to help. I hope today is a better day for you, and you're not in too much pain. if I could snap my fingers & make frankie appear in your bedroom with his magic hands nonnie, I totally would. I hope this helps. ❤️

there's really no warnings for this except frank being cute and sweet as hell. also i'm not sure if the glitch with dark mode has been fixed or not but if you're on dark mode, you may have trouble viewing this. I apologize for any inconvenience reading in advance! word count: 1.5k

magic hands.

A soft whine of discontent slipped past your lips as a surge of pain shot down your spine. You gingerly rubbed at the back of your neck, trying to alleviate some of the distress that was plaguing your entire spinal cord. No matter what you did, the pain didn’t go away. If anything, the more you tried to soothe the sting, the more the discomfort spread throughout your neck and back. Soft pillows and heating pads seemed to provide a little help, but not enough to where you felt like you could function normally. Hell, even holding your own head up was sometimes unbearable.

“You alright?”

You jumped slightly when Frank’s gruff voice cut through the silence of your bedroom and winced when you turned your head a little too quickly for your body’s liking.

“Shit, I didn’t even hear you come in. You have to make noise when you get here, we talked about this. You’re seriously gonna send me into cardiac arrest one of these days.”

Frank had snuck up on you one too many times, and you were certain that’s how you were gonna go. Death by shock because your boyfriend likes to test how prepared you are for a surprise intruder. You’d think by this point he’d have given up on his lessons, but if anything it made him double down even harder on them. Frank didn’t budge when it came to your safety and preparedness.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied your form, and you quickly removed your hand from your neck despite the lingering burn. Your relationship with Frank was still a bit new, and you weren’t sure how to approach certain topics without feeling a twinge of anxiety. You hated hiding things from him, but you also weren’t sure how to bring it up. Frank was already very overprotective, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt he would never make you feel like a burden like others had in the past, but it was still nerve wracking. You two were still in the “honeymoon” phase of your relationship where everything was fresh and exciting and new; everything a chronic illness wasn’t. You wanted to stay in your little bubble outside reality for a while longer. You wanted Frank to keep feeling the excitement of something fresh and new too. You wanted him to keep feeling that “honeymoon” way about you.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t look fine. What’s botherin’ you?”

“My neck’s a little stiff, that’s all. Think I slept on it wrong.”

Frank arched one of his dark brows quizzically, leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom as he folded his arms over his chest. He nearly took up the entire frame. God he looked good today. Well, he looked good everyday. It really wasn’t fair. He probably didn’t even take five whole minutes to get ready this morning. It must be nice to be able to just wake up and-

“You’re a shit liar, you know that?”

You gawked at Frank’s blunt admission, your mouth hanging open slightly as he stared over you with a light smirk tugging at the edge of his month.

“I am not.”

“Are too. You got no poker face, sweetheart. You couldn’t lie to save your damn life.”

You mirrored Frank’s actions as you crossed your arms over your own chest, wincing slightly as the motion pulled at the furious muscles in your back.

“Well, excuse me for not being good at being shady.”

Frank’s smirk dropped the second he caught your wince. He let out a deep exhale as he made his way over towards you, taking a seat on the edge of your bed and placing his large hand on your knee.

“C’mon honey, talk to me. I can see you’re in pain. Don’t bother lyin’. What is it?”

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. There was no use trying to argue with Frank when he was adamant about something. He would get what he wanted out of you, by whatever means necessary. His other methods would be deliciously tempting if your body weren’t actively betraying you.

“It’s…my neck, and my back. They’ve been bothering me a lot lately, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to make it better. I’ve seen so many doctors about it, and I still don’t really have any answers. I kinda just…have to wait for it to pass.”

“Why didn’t you say somethin’ sweetheart?”

Because I was scared you wouldn’t think I was new and exciting anymore.

Because I was scared you would think I was too much.

Because there’s nothing sexy about chronic pain.

“I…guess I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“Bother me? Why would somethin’ you can’t control bother me?”

It sounded stupid when it said it out loud, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“What can I do?”

Your brows furrowed slightly as you looked at Frank, noticing the sincerity swirling around in the depths of dark brown.

“What?”

“What can I do to make it better?”

“Oh…um, I’m not sure. I’m still figuring that out.”

Frank rubbed at his chin with his palm, eyes scanning over your body like he was looking for some kind of invisible clue.

“What’s it feel like? More of a soreness or sharp sting?”

“Uh…little bit of both. Kinda depends.”

“What’s it feel like right now?”

“More on the sore side, like I just got hit by a truck hauling a bunch of other very large trucks.”

Frank tried his best not to laugh as he shook his head slowly, kicking off his boots as he looked at you with a warm smile.

“Okay, I can work with that. You mind if I try somethin’?”

“Not at all.”

Frank carefully moved to sit behind you against the headboard, stretching his legs out on either side of yours. His large hands hovered over your shoulders as he leaned in to speak quietly into your ear.

“If this hurts at all, even a little, tell me and I’ll stop, yeah?”

You nodded slowly as you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of Frank’s strong chest pressed against your back. You found yourself instinctively leaning back into his embrace, finding relief in the warmth of his body heat and the pressure of him pressed against you. A loud sigh flew from your mouth when his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck and applied a bit of pressure. He halted immediately, and you could feel his heart thrum against your back.

“You alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, that felt really good.”

Frank squeezed the back of your neck gently, rubbing his thumb in slow circles and applying a little more pressure every time. Gradually he began to massage at your shoulders and the top of your back, kneading his fingers into your aching muscles. His hands were so warm and the force behind them felt divine. Your body hadn’t felt this relaxed or loose in so long, it made you want to cry.

“How you doin’, pretty girl?”

“Feels amazing, Frank. Please keep going.”

“Sure thing, honey. Whatever you need.”

Your head dropped between your shoulders as Frank worked out every ounce of tension in the angry tissue covering your neck and back. It seemed even your body couldn’t deny the magic of Frank Castle’s hands as the vengeful pain succumbed to the sweet relief of his affection. You lost track of how long you sat there in his lap, but you could have sat there forever. It wasn’t just his hands that made the discomfort melt away. It was him.

It was the comforting pressure of his presence, being able to feel the strength of his heart’s rhythm against your skin, and the blazing warmth that radiated from deep within him. It was the thrill of having his hands on you, knowing exactly what those hands were capable of, and reveling in the juxtaposition of how rough and heavy they felt on your skin with such delicate motions and care. It was the spicy earthiness of his cologne that draped over you like a blanket, lulling you further into the safe haven that was simply Frank.

“You have magic hands.”

Frank chuckled lowly as you settled further into his chest, brushing his nose along your cheek before pressing a sweet kiss in the same spot.

“That right?”

“Mhm. I mean I already knew that. You’ve proved to me plenty of times you’re good with your hands. But you’re really good with them.”

“Glad you think so, sweetheart. How you feelin’?”

“Better. So much better. Can we stay like this for a while longer?”

“Course. Only place I gotta be is right here with you.”

#frank castle #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle request #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher request

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lanitalay · 2 months

Text

Among Flames and Starlight

Chapter 8

a/n: jesus this is so much longer than I thought it would be. But finally I can say that a lil fluff is included and I think Irene deserves it. Hope you enjoy!!!

warnings: canon typycal violence, angst

Word Count: 4k

Other Chapters

Irene could hear the commotion downstairs. Beron was expecting a visit. By the sounds of it, an important one. She put pillows over her ears to drown out the noise but could still make out the sound of heavy footsteps. They felt like pounding on her head. Thump. Thump. Thump. It had been hours of thump, thump, thump. They seemed to be getting louder by the second and Irene could not contain her frustration as she threw two pillows across the room. They were supposed to hit the wall and fall flat on the floor but the steps had been getting closer, not louder.

“Good gods, Irene! What do you think you’re doing?!” Mora stood in the door frame, her hair now disheveled by the blow of the pillows.

“Oh, Mora-” Irene got out of the bed and shakily straightened her nightgown. “I’m sorry, the noise and- I haven’t slept well- I lost it for a second.”

The Lady picked up the pillows and put them on the bed. She turned to Irene and raked her up and down with a scrutinizing gaze. “Dear, the High Lord of Spring will be visiting tonight and you must attend.” Mora got closer to Irene and brushed white strands of hair away from her face “you look tired. Spend the day resting, I will come help you get ready in the afternoon.”

The door slammed as Mora left. Irene touched her face where the Lady had, her skin felt dry and oily at the same time. When was the last time she bathed? Or brushed her hair? The days had blurred together since the fight with Eris. Maybe it had been weeks. Either way she wasn’t keeping track and the Vanserra’s seemed satisfied with her being alive to interfere further.

In front of the mirror, Irene frowned. She looked… rough. The darkness under her eyes was purplish, they looked more like bruises. Her skin was a greasy patchy mess, lips chapped and cracked. And her hair was whiter than she remembered. The strands that used to only frame her face now thicker. She ran her fingers through the brown strands and tried to remember her father’s same locks. He always kept it short so it would stay out of his face when he was with his books. Her father… What would Irden Vallier think of his daughter today?

She wasn’t even a Vallier anymore.

“Irene?” Mora’s voice boomed from the bedroom. “In here.” She called out from the bathing room. “Oh good, you need a bath, let's begin.” Had the whole day just flown by?

Mora called in a maid to quickly clean the bedroom while Irene bathed. When she stepped out of the tub she felt lighter than she had in a long time. Her hair was shiny again and she had scrubbed her skin so hard it was raw and smooth. Mora instructed her to sit down as she used her fire magic to dry her hair and create perfectly bouncy curls. Once she was satisfied, she gathered the brown part of her hair and pinned it up so her neck was showing. “Since the dress you’ll be wearing has a high neckline I think an updo will look nice.” Then she styled the white bits to frame her face.

The cosmetics she applied were light, except for the power under her eyes and she might have used too much blush for Irene’s liking but that did not matter.

Irene was to wear an autumn red gown. The neckline came to the base of her throat. It was sleeveless and flowy. Both females were surprised by how nice she looked, given the state she was in just hours before. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mora.”

“There’s no need, let's go downstairs or the High Lord will get upset.” Mora gave Irene one last glance before walking out of the bedroom and down to the formal greeting room.

Irene followed Mora down the stairs and stood next to her until the High Lord of Spring arrived and she said “dear, go stand next to Eris.”

She didn’t groan or roll her eyes like she wanted to, simply went to stand next to the Autumn heir. “I see you’re alive.”

“So it seems.”

“Silence.” Beron ordered, his voice deep and rusty. It had the same timber as the sound a tree makes when it falls. He spoke like he knew the ending. Like he could see the fall.

The Vanserras stilled and got into a line from oldest to youngest. Irene stood stiff as a board in between Eris and Brando? Maybe it was Cyrus? She hadn’t seen or spoken to the middle Vanserra’s since before the wedding.

The grand doors opened and a blond male dressed in an embroidered yellow and green jacket was ushered in. He was just as tall as Eris and his hair was slicked back, all of his sharp features on display. Irene kept her eyes trained on the jacket and wondered how many hours it took to embroider the Spring landscape along the sleeves. She paid no attention to the formal introductions until Eris presented her “I’d like to introduce Irene Vanserra.” She was alert enough to bow and say “it’s an honor, sir.”

The High Lord of Spring extended his hand and Irene extended hers as was expected. “The Autumn Court was overdue for a princess, never thought Eris would find someone so lovely.” He ended the sentence with a slimy kiss to the back of her hand. Once he let go, Irene clasped her hands and resisted to wipe his saliva away. She mentally gagged at the wetness that now stained her.

When the High Lord finished greeting all of the Vanserras they walked towards the dining room with Beron leading the way.

“Here,” Eris said only for Irene to hear and handed her a handkerchief. Irene wasted no time in wiping away the Lord of Spring’s slobber “thank you.” He only nodded.

The dinner passed by quickly enough. Irene focused on emptying the wine glass anytime it was filled and eating whatever seemed appetizing. Her participation was not desired nor necessary for the success of the visit. Eris would occasionally speak, but the bulk of the conversation was between Beron and the Lord of Spring. Which was well enough, in her opinion. She would return unscathed to her rooms and resume her rotting.

After dessert they were dismissed. Irene was walking back to her rooms when she heard Beron and the Lord of Spring speaking in hushed tones. Looking around, she noticed light filtering through the wall. A secret door. From the mental map she had drawn of the Forest House she was almost certain that behind that wall was Beron’s study.

She would have kept walking. She would have gone back to her monotone routine had she not heard the Lord of Spring say “Victoria as well?”

She stopped dead in her tracks and walked closer to the voices. “From what I gather, they always visit Windhaven together. If you plan on taking out the Lady chances are you’ll have to deal with the princess as well.”

Someone threw ice cold water on Irene. Her blood froze.

Her heart stopped.

“Will we have backup from your Court?”

“Not publicly, we have been working hard to secure Keir’s dark bringers and this would demolish that. But if you need any more information that I can provide I will.”

She wasn’t hearing this. Someone must’ve drugged her. Or she drank too much wine and was hallucinating. Because there was no way that she was hearing two High Lords planning on killing her family. It was impossible.

“What’s the timeline?”

“We have intel that they are visiting tomorrow. The plan is to have it done by midnight.”

Irene covered her mouth as a gasp raked through her. Midnight. Tomorrow.

She could not let that happen. Had she missed the signs? Did Beron know all along? Was she blind? A distraction? None of that mattered though. Not now. She walked as quietly as she could until she was certain Beron could not hear her running, sprinting down the hall.

Eris opened the door to see an out of breath Irene clutching her chest. “I- Eris-” her breathing was irregular. Sharp inhales, short exhales. He pulled her inside his rooms and shut the door. Irene was hyperventilating. “I- they- We- you gotta-”

“Breathe.” He stood in front of her, arms length away and kept instructing her to “breathe, Irene.”

“Eris-” she stepped forward and gripped his arms “Eris he’s going to kill them. The Lord of Spring- I heard him and Beron- We need to do something- I can’t stay here and let it happen-”

It was as if he was meeting a new person. Irene had been a shell for weeks and now she was cutting off circulation in his arms while speaking gibberish. He led her to the bathing room and locked the door there too. Then he turned on the running water and asked her to “please tell me what is the matter.”

She gulped and without blinking said “the High Lord of Spring is planning to execute Victoria and Celene tomorrow night. Beron is supplying information.”

Their plan was a haphazard at best. Eris said that he could not winnow them directly to the Hewn City because Kier might notify Beron and spoil the mission. So Irene mentioned that Mor frequented the Winter Court. If they found her she could deliver the message in time so the Night Court could act accordingly.

“Even if Mor isn’t there Viviane surely has a way to contact her or maybe I’d be close enough to Rhys for him to hear my thoughts or-”

“We’ll warn them, but first we must change out of these clothes and into something more covert. Go to your room and make sure someone sees you.” Irene nodded and made her way towards her wing of the Forest House.

When she was twenty feet away from her door she made a show of tripping and knocking down a painting. A servant fae came to put it back up from where it had fallen and Irene wiped her eyes, bringing attention to her tear streaked face “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- here let me help-” but the female shook her head and motioned for her to go on.

Her tears were very real. The thought of Victoria and Celene being put through whatever torment that High Lord intended made her feel sick. For no reason other than sheer instinct she knew they were being targeted for something the High Lord of Night had done. She’d die before anyone she loved got hurt because of him ever again.

Now dressed in a wool lined dress, Irene waited for Eris until he appeared in her room out of thin air “let's go.”

Irene knocks on the Mountain House door which is soon opened by Vivianne. She hoped the Lady would remember her from a brief meeting in the Night Court years ago. “Eris?” She looked at Irene, her head tilted quizzically “Irene Vallier?” Some relief flooded her as she nodded “yes, I apologize for the late hour but we need to get a message to Mor. Is she here by any chance?”

Vivianne nods and steps aside so the pair can walk in. They are led into a small study, bookshelves lining the walls, a square desk littered with official documents stamped “Night Court” and “Hewn City.”

“Wait here while I go get her.”

Irene sighed deeply when she left. “I think this could work.”

“I don’t see why not.”

The door opens again and Mor walks in, head held high. “Irene? What is it? Did Eri-” she stopped once she noticed Eris was standing right next to the witchling.

“Mor, I’m so sorry to barge in like this but it's an emergency. You need to go to Rhys right now and tell him that the High Lord of Spring is planning to kill Victoria and Celene tomorrow night at Windhaven. He knows they’ll be alone and he’s only targeting them. I don’t know why but you’re the only one that can get to them fast enough without Keir knowing-”

“Keir is involved?”

“He’s giving Beron information I don't think knows directly but-”

“Beron is involved?” Sharp eyes lock on Eris. “He has nothing to do with it Mor, he just winnowed me.”

“Irene, what happened to your face?”

“My face? I haven’t been sleeping, that’s not the point. Just tell Rhys-”

“I think you should tell him yourself.” Irene wrinkled her eyes “I could but I need to be back in Autumn before sunrise, can’t you just-”

“No, you’ll come with me and tell him yourself.” Irene looked from Mor to Eris in a silent question. “I’ll go with you.”

“You can stay here, or better yet go back to Autumn. I'll make sure she gets back safe.” Irene felt nauseous. She had no interest in going back to the Night Court. Not when she had spent the last weeks kept awake by everything the High Lord had done to her. But Mor wasn’t reacting to the warning she brought.

“I’ll tell Rhys but only if Eris is there.”

“If that’s how it has to be.” Mor grabbed Irene’s hand in a split second and Eris grabbed the other one just before she could winnow away without him.

In front of the townhouse, Eris' face was like stone. Mor quickly unlocked the door and Irene was surprised to see Rhysand already waiting for them in the foyer. Last time she had seen him it was her wedding day.

It was clear he had just woken up. His hair strewn messily over his face, eyes heavy with sleep. “What is it? Is it- Irene?” He directed the last question to her. Surprised to see the bride of Autumn in Velaris and even more surprised to see Eris standing next to her, hands clasped together.

Irene explained the same thing she had told Mor. “Please just look at my memory and hear for yourself. You have to do something.” He agreed and poked into her mind.

He cursed and ran a hand through his hair. “Mor, wake up Cassian and Azriel. Does anyone know you’re here?” In a flash the blonde was running up the familiar stairs.

“No.”

“Good, stay here until we solve this. My mother and Victoria are at the cabin so we will go get them.” He disappeared and then Cassian and Azriel were in front of them.

“Rhys told us what’s going on.” Irene let go of Eris’ hand as Cassian went to hug her. Azriel stood quietly behind him. “Let 's go.” Rhys announces, now dressed in leathers, and the four of them are gone in the blink of an eye.

“Where are we?” It had all happened so fast she forgot Eris didn’t know Velaris existed. “Oh, right. Well this is Velaris. It’s not known by many so I’m sure you’ll have to swear secrecy or something before we leave.”

“I thought that the Night Court was confined to the Hewn City and the Ilyrian camps.”

“Well it sort of is. But most of the population lives here or on the outskirts.” He nods.

“We can try to rest until they come back, there’s a sitting room through here-” she walks through the hall and into a cozy room with a large sofa. Irene collapses on the plush pillows and takes a deep breath. “I can’t believe Mor was actually there.”

“It was a lucky coincidence.”

She closed her eyes and found herself drifting away until he spoke again.

“Irene.”

“Hm?” She answered sleepily.

“Why would you ask for my help? Why did you trust me?” The truth is that she had not given it much thought in the moment.

“I knew you would help.” She yawned one more time and fell asleep, so tired she did not stop to question how she was so warm without any blankets or a fire.

“Irene!” Her heart stopped when that familiar voice ripped her from a dreamless sleep. Clutching her chest she looked around to see Eris equally startled and Victoria standing in front of her still in her nightgown. “Vic? uff!” the princess of Night jumped on Irene in a crushing hug and peppered kisses all over her face. “You’re home! I can’t believe it!”

“Mhmm!”

“Let me look at you” Victoria scanned her face “you need to sleep more, and have you been eating?”

“I know I know. Do you know why I’m here?”

“Rhys just said we needed to stay home for a while and he said you were here and I could not believe it but here you are!” She shook Irene from her excitement “how long are you here for?”

“Oh, now that you’re safe we can go back to Autumn.”

“What? There’s no way you’re going back. Stay until tomorrow at least.”

“I don’t think we can-”

“We can.” Eris interjected.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, no one will miss either of us for a day.”

“Oh, well I guess we’re staying?”

“This is great! Your room is just how you left it, come on!” Victoria dragged Irene to her old room and Eris followed them, not sure what to do with himself.

“Oh Eris… this is the only spare room we have are you two-”

“It's fine Vic, he can stay with me.”

“Are you sure? You could sleep in my room tonight if you want.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright.” She squeezed Irene one last time before going to her own room.

“It’s fine if you want to sleep in Victoria’s room, I won’t be offended.”

“Don’t be flattered Eris, there is no way I’m leaving you alone to snoop on my things.”

“What things? You barely have anything.”

“For a second I forgot what an ass you are.”

Eris chuckled and Irene stopped in her tracks.

“I’ve never heard your laugh.”

“You’re not very funny.”

“I thought you were generally incapable of joy.”

“I could say the same thing to you.”

“I can’t do this right now, let's just try to sleep.” Irene began to pull the covers back from her bed and Eris grabbed one pillow and threw it on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I know you don’t want to share a bed with me.”

She finished setting up the bed how she liked, turned off the lights and climbed in. Staring at the ceiling Eris’ question from earlier rang through her mind. “Why would you ask for my help? Why did you trust me?” It was a fair question. Why did she go to him? They had gotten off on the wrong foot, had been forced into an unwanted marriage and mainly bickered whenever they spoke. But he hadn’t been the monster she expected. Eris kissed her cheek at the ceremony, warned her about the honeymoon, saved her from the ants, nursed her until she was better and had otherwise left her alone.

“Eris?”

“Yes?”

“You can sleep on the bed.”

“Irene, just go to sleep.”

“Don’t make this a whole thing. Just sleep on the bed, it’s big enough.” She rearranged some pillows to create a barrier down the middle on the mattress. “Eris!”

“What?!”

“Get on the bed!” When she didn’t hear any movement she got up and walked over to him “I’m being nice” then nudged his leg until he let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, fine, if you stop bothering me.”

When they were both tucked in, she finally closed her eyes and found the sleep she so desperately needed.

Irene woke up the next morning, or afternoon, tangled in blankets and pillows. She realized a noise woke her up. Then remembered Eris was next to her and heard the noise again. “You snore?” She asked but the heir of Autumn was so used to sleeping alone he panicked when he heard Irene’s groggy voice. He woke with a start and once he remembered where he was said under his breath “good gods.”

There was a knock on Irene’s mental shields. “Come to my room” Rhys told her. She was relieved to know he was home so she got up from the bed “the washroom is through that door, I’ll be back soon.”

“What happened?” Irene was horrified to see Rhys. Covered head to toe in dry, crusted blood. “We spotted the convoy on the border and got to them before they knew what was happening. Spring has a new High Lord.”

He swallowed thickly and stumbled towards her. Strong arms wrapped about her shoulders so tight she could barely breathe. His scent plus the smell of the blood was nauseating in the most delicious way. She had given up any hope of having him in her arms again. But here he was “I could never thank you enough, Irene. We had no idea. They would have been-” he didn’t finish the thought. Instead, he buried his head in her neck.

Irene was rubbing circles on his back, trying to comfort him and relishing how he felt against her. “It all worked out, everything is fine.”

Eventually he released her but dragged her to the bed. “How are you? Mor thought something happened with Eris and I swear if he even looked at you wrong I’ll have his head.” Irene shook her head, “I’m having a difficult time adjusting but Eris hasn’t been an issue.” Your father has, she wanted to add.

“Are you being forced to say that?”

“I know it's hard to believe, especially with how I was at the wedding but… I’m ok, for the most part.”

Rhysand cupped her cheek and scanned her face “You slept, the darkness under your eyes looks better today.”

“I actually did, I think I miss my mattress here.”

“I miss you here.”

“Me too, the Vanserras are all so intense and I pretty much just avoid them but-”

“I’ve missed you, Irene.” He punctuated the sentence with a swipe of his thumb on her lips.

Irene froze. “Oh-”

“Stay, I’ll do whatever it takes, do you want to stay?” He was inching toward her face.

“But that’s not possible. I’m married, Eris is in my room waiting for me and-” She could feel his breath on her lips.

“It’s not really a marriage if you were forced, we can have you as an official guest, you can-”

Irene removed his hand from her face “I can’t touch you anymore?” She gulped at the hurt that flashed through his face.

“Did you know I was in love with you for years?”

“You were?”

“Yes, and you never knew and you never felt the same. Which is fine. I'm not angry about that because when we were together there was a tiny glimmer of hope that it could turn into something real. But now that has been definitively ruled out. If I kiss you now it is completely hopeless and I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do but my life is not all bad. I have a title now. That's not nothing, Rhys. And sure, I did not choose who I married but… it could be worse.”

She squeezed his hand but didn't notice how he tried to hold onto it a little tighter before she let go.

"We can be friends. Allies.”

He gave her a weak smile as he agreed “friends and allies.”

“So this is where you’ve lived all your life. No wonder you’re so... particular.” Irene rolled her eyes at Eris.

They were walking along the Sidra. Irene wanted to take a moment to say goodbye to Velaris for the foreseeable future and Eris tagged along so he wouldn’t be left alone with a group of people who distinctly hate him. “Hush.” Irene said.

She found a bench with a view of the river. “I’d live in a place like this” he broke the silence that had fallen over them in the last minutes of the stroll.

“It’s a nice place to live.”

“Though, I must say the autumn groves suit you better than a cobblestone city.”

“Can you be quiet.”

“I mean it, gray washes you out.”

“Ass.”

taglist: @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams

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yuus-sentient-teddy · 2 years

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This has been in my drafts for months but I finally got time to finish it, so here it is!

(DON'T WORRY I made sure that the story wouldn't have any spoilers for any specific chapters. Also, please check the tags because there is a sweet twist not-so-subtly hinted!)

Yuu Overblotting

Everything hurts.

The Blot is in their blood. It's toxic like the Headmaster said an eternity ago, in his office with their friends. It burns their nerves, but not the nerves that let their lungs compress and expand so they could breathe.

It doesn't take long for everyone to find Yuu.

They're lying on their side, a trail of ink leaking from parted lips and lidded eyes unblinking. Behind them, the ink monster tears away at trees and large rocks.

There is fear that Yuu has died; ink pools around their body and there is a large trail leading to the ink monster, making them look as though they were a murder victim. But looking closely, the group can see their chest faintly rising and falling.

Words fly among the group, strategies and suggestions exchanged and every so often a small jab.

Yuu blinks through blurry eyes, registering livid movement. They focus on someone in the crowd.

They can't hear a thing. White noise has overtaken their hearing, even as he is clearly saying something.

They raise their arm, slowly reaching. Quietly, hoarsely, they call out. "Dad."

The pain catches up to them--a piercing burn much like the time they accidentally touched the hot edges of a cauldron--and they flinch, vision turning white. They end up dropping their arm and moaning in pain.

"They were reaching for us," Grim murmurs, eyes wide. He had been staring at Yuu since he and the others arrived. He couldn't comprehend the state his henchman was in. They aren't supposed to look so dead.

"What did you say?" Ace says, twisting around from his spot conversing with the others.

"Yuu. . . they were reaching for us," Grim repeats, louder. He, Ace, and the rest of the first years exchange tense expressions. There is a pause from everyone else before they continue planning, this time with more vigor.

The person Yuu reached towards, one of the adults that accompanied the students in finding the Ramshackle Prefect, keeps glancing worriedly at Yuu.

Yuu wants to be held by their dad.

Not the one at home. The one here, in Night Raven College.

Here, they didn't need to walk on eggshells. There was no fear when they approached him; he wouldn't suddenly snap at them out of the blue. No silent anger when it felt like he was talking down on them because he NEVER talked down on them. And no feeling of humiliation when he took notice of their interests outside of the classroom.

It was a fatherly love they never knew they could have, never knew could exist for them. It made them feel like those kids from the happy stories they read about awesome, caring dads.

Was it selfish? Maybe it was. But it made them feel less alone in this world, made them feel warm from being genuinely cared about by an adult. No invisible barrier, no deeply hidden resentment, nor fear to strain a relationship. Just a familial relationship they didn't have with their own dad back at their homeworld.

Bursts of ice magic strike at the ink monster, large splotches of ink flying off its body and forming large puddles on the patchy cobblestone ground. The monster roars and throws a punch at a few students near it, but it draws back when a torrent of flames burns its hand.

As the battle rages on, a handful of students gather around the magicless Prefect. Panicked pleas leave the lips of their friends and acquaintances. "Yuu! Yuu, stay with us!"

One of them lightly shakes their shoulder. That only elicits a weak cry of pain, causing him to stop immediately.

"How are they doing?" One of the adults had jogged over after ensuring that the rest of the gathered people would be able to handle the ink monster.

"We're not going to be able to move Yuu away. It'll hurt them."

Yuu returns to consciousness as the pain ebbs away into a dull throb. They crack open an eye and see their dad.

They call to him--but they find that they can't. It's like something is clogging their throat, keeping their words trapped inside yet somehow letting them breathe normally.

They watch his concerned face twist even more out of stress from whatever their friends and classmates are telling him.

He focuses on something to the side and his mouth moves, but still, white noise buzzes around their ears. Their classmates hesitate but stand up anyway and rush to whatever he is looking at.

He then looks down and notices that they are awake. He kneels down beside them. He has a grimace. It seems like he is about to cry.

He says something; somehow, Yuu knows that it is an encouragement and, most importantly, a promise.

The screech the ink monster releases shakes everyone to the bone and takes their breath away. Thankfully, it only lasts for a few seconds, quieting as the monster dissolves into a pond of ink.

Friends regather around Yuu. Seniors and teachers exchange words with each other. "I already called for help. They're on their way!"

"Any idea how close they are?"

The creases in Yuu's brows have eased and their body seems more relaxed; everyone takes it as a good sign that they are safe. A better sign comes when their dad tentatively holds their hand and they don't flinch.

The doctors aren't sure how long Yuu would be in their coma for. Magicless and being exposed to multiple Overblot incidents, then falling into Overblot themself--it was all unheard of. The only thing that could be done now was treat the patient for bodily harm, hope, and wait.

Days turned into weeks. Visitors come and go. The regulars are an NRC staff member stating that he is Yuu's dad and Yuu's closest friends.

It's another sunny afternoon when Yuu's dad visits. He takes his seat next to their bed and squeezes their hand. He hasn't gotten much sleep since Yuu's Overblotting. He's too worried that he'd be awoken in the middle of the night by his phone ringing and a secretary informing him that Yuu has gone into critical condition. At the same time, however, he makes himself think of the best-case scenario, where the secretary informs him that Yuu has woken up.

He visits them as much as he can; although, this time he finds he can't keep his head up.

Just as he starts to doze off, he feels his hand being squeezed back.

#whoever your NRC dad is is up to you #I tried to keep it as general as possible #twisted wonderland #overblot #yuu/mc (twisted wonderland)#🧸🖊writing

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twisted-tales-of-all · 6 months

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What Really Matters

Summary: After losing your long-term partner in an accident, your mourning spirals into a quest to bring him back at any cost - and you actually manage to do it, but he's not quite the same. Pairing: Lee Minho x gender-ambiguous Reader Genre: Angst (Hurt, No-Comfort) One-Shot Tropes: non-idol!AU, established relationship, husband!Minho, occult/black magic themes (resurrection), loss of a loved one Word Count: 4K Contains: use of black magic, occasional cursing, use of pet names (both romantic and platonic), constant theme of dark and heavy topics (including death, grief, emotional outbursts, allusion to miscarriage) A/N: Please assess your mental state before reading this. The themes of this piece are heavy and dive into emotions that could pertain to similar real-life scenarios and could be triggering to those in similar situations. Approach with caution.

After a long day of repetitive condolences and far too many tears for your reddened, swollen eyes, you want nothing more than to collapse into your bed. But as you lie here, you realize the unbearable loneliness it brings. He's no longer taking up half of the cramped quarters. The coldness of the sheets reminds you that you can't siphon warmth from him any longer. Unable to think of anything other than his passing, you curl into yourself under the blankets, tears and snot streaming messily onto your pillows. Before you know it, your exhausted body gives in to the lull of peaceful slumber.

You wake in the same little ball, your body sore from the awkward position. As you peel your head off of the pillow, you feel the crusted-over liquids all over your face. With a heavy sigh, you drag yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. You run the shower and begin to undress. As you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you hear his voice in your head.

"Well, don't you look interesting this morning? Did your fairy godmother's magic wear off at midnight?"

His little jabs always made you smile. Even now, you find your lips lifting on the edges. But as quickly as his memory comes, it fades, leaving behind the burning feeling of your emotions welling up in your chest. You shake your head, desperate to avoid crying, and step into the steaming hot shower. You simply stand there for a moment, letting the water hit the back of your head and run down your body as you focus on breathing and mentally preparing for the day ahead of you. You're thankful that your boss offered extra time off to grieve, but you need to do something so you aren't mulling over him all day.

"I'll clean. That's it, I'll clean!"

Welcoming the mundane task, a bit of energy sparks inside of you. You quickly work through the motions of the shower and walk around your home, taking note of the sub-tasks you need to get to and putting them in an order best suiting your mindset. Deciding to start in the kitchen, you immediately hit the dishes. You look at the mess in the sink and breathe out a heavy sigh.

"If you'd just wash them right after you use them, they wouldn't pile up, y'know."

Stop. Stop thinking of him.

You begin furiously scrubbing the dishes to disguise the fact that you can still hear his predictable statements clearly voiced in your mind. That you can't pass him the rinsed items to dry. That nothing's the same without him - even something as simple as the chores. As your scrubbing slows and your vision clouds from the tears building once again, you find yourself frozen.

But time does not stop. Not for you. Not for him. Not for grief. Not for pain.

The small saucer slips from your hand, clanking rashly against the porcelain countertop. Normally, a noise like this would shock you straight, but this time you don't even blink. You simply stand there, frozen in place, in a world that refuses to stop with you, until the strength in your legs falter. You clumsily make your way to a chair, pulling it out and falling into it. Thanks to the sheen of your tears, you nearly fumble your landing, but you refuse to move.

Staring at the floor in front of you, you acknowledge the light slowly adjusting its positioning as the sun rides carelessly across the bright blue sky. In the movies, rain and storm clouds would accompany one's grief, but you get no such pleasure. The world goes on without him, even if you can barely function.

In the far-off distance, your ears catch hold of your phone's ringtone. Odd, because it's in your pocket. As you fish it out without the sound increasing, you understand that your intense grief is dulling your senses. Seeing your mother-in-law's name across the screen, you answer and place the phone in your lap, setting the sound to speaker phone.

A hoarse voice travels through the speakers, one almost entirely drained of positive emotion, "Y/N? Hello, honey. How are you holding up?"

You want to scream, to cry out about life's unfairness. But she knows. She knows just as much as you - maybe more. You had to send off your husband yesterday, but poor, sweet Mrs. Lee had to send off her son.

After a few seconds of silence between you, you find your voice. However, you do not find words. Instead, a manic fit of depraved laughter fills the room. The dull, repetitive laugh sends shivers up her spine, but she understands. After all, what a ridiculous question to ask not even 24 hours after the funeral, but it was all she knew how to ask, with sorrow clouding her senses all the same.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I understand. Remember, we're here with you. Please, don't hesitate to reach out. I'll hang up now, but remember not to beat yourself up too much. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault."

She doesn't wait for a response. You don't have one to give. After the ending tone fades, silence envelopes you again, this time joined by the reddened glow of the sunset's fading light. Where did time go? How is today already ending? Didn't it just start?

Accepting defeat, you stand up and drag yourself to your bedroom. You stop at the doorway to stare at your unmade bed. He made it every day, so coming in to see it exactly as you left it this morning stabs you straight in the chest. But you don't have tears to cry, not right now. So you stand. You stare. You silently hurt.

At some point, your body must've remembered how to function and resorted to autopilot, because you wake up in bed the next morning without any memory of moving from your position in the doorway.

7:23 AM. It's early. You don't have plans for the day, so waking this early only means more time to kill, but you're up. There's no chance of falling back asleep. So, you pull yourself out of the warmth of your soft bed and decide to leave the house. If you go somewhere he's never been, maybe he'll leave your mind for a moment; maybe you'll have the time to breathe a sigh of peace.

Making your way into the forest near your home, you choose a trail you haven't taken before - something easy and peaceful, but deep enough into the foliage to let your mind turn blank. As you glide down the trail, you finally feel the weight lifted off your shoulders a bit. To your surprise, your plan actually worked. For the first time in a while, something finally goes your way. As you reach a small rest spot, you sit down to breathe that breath of fresh air, only to find tears silently streaming down your face, plopping onto the fabric covering your thighs. You don't feel the tears; there's no lump in your throat, no pain in your chest, but the tears fall nonetheless.

"Oh, hun, are you okay?"

Looking up towards the voice, you find an older lady looking down at you with pity painted on her face. You quickly swipe your forearm across your face to remove any indication that you may not be happy. You try to blow off the question with excuses, not wanting to burden a sweet old lady with your life's troubles.

"Honey. Don't hide away. It's much too hard to carry things on your own, and I wouldn't have approached you if I wasn't prepared to shoulder the burden of knowing." Sitting next to you, she places a hand on your forearm, lightly squeezing in a motherly fashion.

Looking from her hand to her comforting smile, you sigh and chuckle out a disheartened 'no' in response to her original question. She rubs your arm and nods, acknowledging your strength to admit your feelings properly.

"My husband died. We just got married a couple months ago, but now I'm a widow. The funeral was two days ago. It hurts."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. If you need a shoulder, use mine. If you need somewhere to escape to, you're welcome in my little cabin. It's quite cozy - quiet and warm, too."

"No, no. I don't want to impose. I appreciate the offer, though."

Suddenly, the lady's expression shifts into something darker, but it reverts back as quickly as it came. As she smiles comfortably at you, she insists that you at least come see the cottage, so you'll know where it'll be if you change your mind. Understanding that she won't take no for an answer, you reluctantly agree. Standing up, you follow her, only a step behind, all the way down the trail and to her cabin. It catches you by surprise that anyone is allowed to live so close to all the hiking trails - you thought the whole forest was government property.

As she opens the door and ushers you inside, the lady happily explains the history of her quaint home. And she wasn't wrong for calling it quiet and warm. As soon as the door shuts, you feel quite comfortable to the point where you don't even think of Minho for a solid five minutes.

"So, if you ever feel the need to escape the toils of life, you're welcome here. Just walk on in and make yourself at home."

Now happy to accept the offer, you ignore the alarm bell blaring in your head about trusting a stranger who lives alone in an unlocked cabin in the forest. You stay for a while before she claims to have an appointment to go to. She insists that you can stay, so you thank her and settle in. On your own, your eyes drift to the filled bookcase against the wall. You look over the books for something to pass the time.

Down on the second shelf from the floor, you find an older book, thickly bound in navy blue leather with golden lettering along the spine. Although some of the paint has faded away, you can piece together the title - The Arts Guide to Perfection. Intrigued by the over-the-top title, you pull it off the shelf and dust off the front cover. You see similar remnants of gold paint on the cover, but can't make out what was originally painted there, other than the circle that remains.

Must've been a company logo.

Moving past that, you let the book fall open to a random page. As it settles on page 273, you see what looks like some sort of recipe, but the "ingredients" listed don't sound edible.

"Keeping your perfect partner? What kind of-?" You stop your words as you continue to read on, figuring out that this is a book of spells, "The DARK Arts, oh boy."

Thoughts sparking like dominoes falling, something clicks as you read through the spell: this can bring your perfect partner back to you, even if they've died. You shut the book and rush out of the cottage, holding the book tightly in the crook of your arm.

"I can bring him back. I can see him again. Oh my god, oh fuck. Oh my-" You spew filler all the way home, with the thought that this book can solve the issue of your grief through the miracle of bringing him back to life.

Slamming the book onto your dining table, you open it back to page 273, only to find an entirely new spell - one more specific to your needs. As you read through the spell and learn how to "bring back love," you carefully memorize the components and key steps in case the page changes its contents again.

After digging through cabinets for hours, you find that you strangely have everything you need already. Chalking up the coincidence to fate, you prepare everything and quickly complete the ritual. As you search the house, wondering where Minho will return to, you hear thunder outside.

"Huh. It was sunny when I got home. That's strange." You walk to the nearest window to check the weather, only to find a single dark storm cloud looming in the distance. As you watch a bolt of lightning strike down, you follow its trail, estimating that the storm must be near the graveyard, "Oh, that's because of me, isn't it?"

Understanding that the results must be brewing within the storm, you tuck yourself snuggly into bed with a joyous smile, ready to greet the day and meet your love again.

That morning, you wake up and notice the bed sinking differently. You turn and see Minho sleeping soundly, as if he never left your side. A warmth floods your body, a joy almost as fond and bright as your wedding day. You gently wrap your arms around him, ignoring how cold his skin feels against yours. As the man rustles from the affection, you kiss his neck softly.

"Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?"

He hums in response, still not fully awake. As he turns to face you, you think something about him looks different - off-putting, even - but you shake the thought away with ease. He's back; who cares if he looks a tiny bit different?

You sit up on the edge of the bed. Determined to spend as much time with him as possible, you ask, "I'll cook up some breakfast for us. What do you want?"

"Anything, really. I'm starving. It feels like I haven't eaten in days."

Luckily, you're facing away. You couldn't let him see the look of horror his comment caused. He's back. That's what matters. Not that it seems he has no memory of his death.

"I'll see what I can whip up, then! But you have to promise to eat it!"

"I'll eat anything you make. It's made with love, so it can't be bad."

Not the fact that he's speaking in a matter entirely unlike him. Focus on his voice. He's back - that's what matters.

Over the course of the week, you do everything you can think of with your husband. And every time you interact with him, you find yourself repeating your mantra - trying to convince yourself that he's the same person, regardless of the changes. But the longer that you stay with him, the more differences you notice. His quirks have disappeared, his personality muddled.

"Y/N, can we go visit my parents? I miss them. The cats, too."

That's it! I've spent too much time alone with him! Let's go visit Mr. and Mrs. Lee!

"Sure, love. Let's go. I'll let your mom know."

Picking up your phone, you hesitate. How are you supposed to explain this to his parents? It's not like you could just show up to their house with their dead son. Carefully choosing your words, you message your mother-in-law to ask what she'd do if the death was faked. Shortly after, your screen lights up with her caller information, so you answer.

"Hi-"

"Why on earth would you ask me a question like that?!"

Before you have a chance to respond, Minho asks, "Is that my mom? Tell her that it doesn't matter what she says - we're visiting. I miss everybody."

A tense silence follows as his mother recognizes his voice after facing the fact that she'd never hear him again. You hear her choke back tears as she accuses you of playing a sick prank on her. Her emotions take over her words in the heat of the moment, calling you nasty names. Although her accusations sting, you understand where she's coming from. Hell, you've had issues adjusting to him being back even when you're the one who brought him back in the first place.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Mrs. Lee. I know it's strange, but I can explain if you'll let us over. It's a long story; it's heavy and emotional, but I'll explain if you want, no matter your reaction. Even if you hate me for it."

You and Minho silently make the drive to his parents' house, your anxiety bubbling in your stomach. Minho doesn't seem to notice your nerves, too busy enjoying the scenery and the joy of knowing he's going to see his family. As you slide your car beside the parked car in the wide driveway, you warn your husband that he may not get the reactions he hopes for. Confused, he nods but moves past the comment without much thought. You take a deep breath before knocking on the door. You try to ground yourself as you hear footsteps approaching. It feels like the doorknob turns in slow motion, and the door opens even slower.

Looking at Mrs. Lee, you see thousands of thoughts flood her face as the door stops obscuring her view of her son. Letting go of the door, both of her hands fly to her face. Her legs grow weak, so you rush forward to hold her up in case she falls.

"Hi, mom! What's with the reaction? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The noise that leaves her lips get caught somewhere between a gasp and a wail. You feel her stumble and lean on you more. The irony of the son she recently buried asking a question like that nearly breaks her heart all over again. She waves him off, and you close the door behind him. He rushes off to see his cats, leaving you alone with his mother.

"H-how?" Her voice barely a whisper, she's scared to learn how something like this could happen.

"It was magic. A spell written in an old book. I had no idea whether it would work, but I was so desperate. I had to try."

Moving away from you with disgust, she shakes her head repeatedly, chanting, "Out. Get it out. Get it out!"

Motivated by the hatred and rage unlocked by learning the truth, she rushes down the hall to the cats' room, screaming, "Out of my house! That's NOT my son!"

Flying into the room, you both stop hard in your tracks when you see the scene in front of you. All three of the cats are huddled in the corner, puffed up in defense. Minho is holding his wrist, face wrinkled in pain. He turns to you and softly admits that they don't want anything to do with him.

"Dori tore up my arm. I don't understand why they're reacting like this. It's me."

"Get. Out." Mrs. Lee demands, eyes burning through the boy in front of her. "You're not my son. They can tell, too. You're not him."

You grab Minho's hand and rush out of the house, dragging him in a confused flurry behind you. As you apologize profusely, Minho keeps trying to question his mom, who continues to spew out rage-filled comments about him being an evil imposter. She slams the door as you leave, the lock audibly clicking immediately. You slowly drag Minho back to the car, sitting in the driver's seat with your forehead against the wheel. You admit defeat to yourself and begin to prepare for the explanation you know you have to give him.

You turn the key and drive home, but the ride is a blur, with the air in the vehicle tense and thick. As you return home and park the car, Minho finally asks the dreaded question.

"Why did everyone act like that?"

Sighing, you refuse to look at him as you answer, "You died. Your funeral wasn't that long ago. We buried you, but I managed to bring you back."

After a short silence, Minho speaks again, "So, she really did see a ghost, then, huh? I'm... gonna think on this for a while. I'll be in the spare room; please don't come in."

You nod, acknowledging his wishes. As he heads inside, you sit in the car a while longer, thinking about everything. His mom thinks he's evil. The cats attacked him. Even you have to convince yourself that he's the same man you married. What did you do?

"I wish I could undo it."

As you say it aloud, you remember the leather-bound book sitting on the dining table. The reason you got into this mess would surely have a way to undo the results, right? Rushing into the house, you rip the book open, hoping for it to give you another spell that fits the situation. Instead, you're greeted by a loose note written in blood red, urging the reader to consult the owner of the book urgently.

"Fuck," You curse under your breath, "It's late already. How am I supposed to go out there alone?"

Even though it'll be difficult, you need to undo your actions, so you throw on a sweater, grab a flashlight, and bolt out the door. You run, as fast as you can handle, down the trail and over to the lone cottage. The lights inside welcome you, so you walk inside without an invitation. As you prepare to call out to the lady, you realize that you don't know her name. But even worse, your voice doesn't come out at all anymore, even when you try to say hello through the house.

"Cat got your tongue, honey?" You recognize the old lady's voice, but she's nowhere to be seen. Instead, a woman about your age emerges from the shadows along the far wall. A mischievous smile paints her face, and she twirls around to greet you, "I look good, don't I? It's all thanks to you, hun. When people use my spells, my lifeline is extended once again."

You try to speak, to beg for another spell to fix your mistakes, but no words come out. With her spell still holding your voice hostage, you hear her laugh out victoriously.

"I know why you've come. I know you regret bringing him back, but you can't just undo what has been done. There's a great cost in attempting to rewind time like that or to wipe memories from a period of time. I don't think you'd like to do that; you're not possibly that desperate, are you?"

She takes a close look at your face before pretending to be shocked, "Oh? You are that desperate. Well, well, what a surprise. So, sweetheart, what are you willing to give up to rewind the clock?"

With another long look, she simply nods. When you blink, you're back on the bench where you originally met her. Rubbing your eyes, you feel the remnants of tears mixed with the small bits of sleep dust. Looking around, it seems to be the afternoon.

"Did I fall asleep? Was I dreaming?"

Although your recollection of events is hazy and quickly fading, you distinctly remember that you had brought back your husband, and that he's staying in the spare room for some reason. You make your way home, quickly checking the spare room. Facing the empty room, an odd sense of relief washes over you but you can't understand why. However, the overwhelming loneliness of the empty home hits you quickly, pushing aside that feeling.

As you move to your bathroom to wash up, a wave of nausea appears out of nowhere. Walking faster, you make it to the toilet just in time. After a few minutes of the sickness overtaking you, you hear a voice ring in your head as you flush.

"Remember, you must give something up."

#cultofdionysusnet #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop angst #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz angst #skz minho #skz lee know #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee minho #lee minho scenarios #lee minho imagines #lee minho angst

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masqueradeassane · 6 months

Text

Sometimes Gale wishes he didn't understand Astarion so well.

That he didn't understand how it felt to hide something awful with something that seemed worse on the surface.

Hunger, Astarion wore it so well, like a cloak, always gleefully showing his desire for blood.

But so, so careful when it comes to showing the need. To showing the ugly, beastiel nature, the desperate starvation.

Gale was the same, though in a different way.

He could sustain himself on the artifacts, he repeated it, he clung to it.

Truth was, the magic, he could feel it, taste it in the others.. in Shadowheart, Wyll, Halsin. Demonic, Divine, it was still magical.

It tasted like a feast on the tip of his tongue that he could never swallow.

And How Gale hated,and he was sure Astarion did, at least a little as well, how easily Halsin saw through them both.

He'd walked into the forest to clear his head, instead he'd run into Halsin, as large and calm as ever.

The druid had clearly just finished bathing in the nearby river, and Gale could see some newly healed bite wounds along his neck.

The druid just smiled as Gale tried not to stare, clearly he had no issues with Astarion's needs.

As he watched, the druid's smile softened even more as he observed Gale closely.

Without a word, he rested his broad back against a nearby tree. After a minute or so, Gale felt as much as saw the gentle green glow of whatever druidic prayer or magic Halsin was weaving.

But it didn't seem to have any obvious meaning.

"... Honestly.. come, you are as bad as The little Star when it comes to hiding your actual needs."

Until it wasn't.

"I don.. I don't need.."

"...Ignoring the fact that you're already halfway over here..."

The soft green lighting pooling in Halsin's palms looks refreshing... More than that, it looks.. sustaining.

".. I don't.."

But he doesn't resist as Halsin gently settles him in his lap.

He wonders, a little, how it must look to someone who might look towards the river.

He, a standard sized male wizard, settled in a large druid's lap while said druid held a hand to his lips like a parent feeding a stubborn child.

He tells himself that's why he leans over and starts suckling on the magic pouring from Halsin's fingers like cool water so easily. So that there's less time for someone to look around, to find them... to see.

It's harder for him to pretend he can't feel his own teeth bite into the tips of Halsin's as the feeling of being properly, magically FED, for the first time in days hits him.

He knows from the wrong angles, they probably look obscene, he's fully clothed, but Halsin has barely gotten dressed and he knows the noises he's making at the feeling of finally eating, in the purest magical form he can are... undignified.

But now that he's started, he can't help it.. He feasts.

Maybe he does have less self control than Astarion, even though the diet is different.

Halsin doesn't seem to mind, and this Oakfather he bonds himself to doesn't seem to be skimping on what Halsin offers Gale.

Instead he just let the wizard take his fill.

Full up and worn out, Gale sleepily slumped on Halsin's chest slowly falling asleep.

"My my, this is a state to find you two in."

Gale groans and tiredly lifted a middle finger up in the general direction of the sarcastic voice.

He pretends not to hear the quieter. "I'm glad, starvation is never pretty, no matter what form it takes."

For his sake as much as Astarion's, as he slowly falls into a satiated sleep.

#baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #halsin #astarion #bg3 #gale/halsin implied

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substantial-exposure · 6 months

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Codes

Part 1 || Part 3 ||

Summary: Crosshair makes a pit stop on Corcusant and gets caught leaving a certain Jedi's bedroom...

Warnings: Brief Smut(MDNI)! PinV, unprotected sex, borderline choking (if you squint), Crosshair never pulls out, no aftercare (pls practice irl), Anakin makes an appearance to further the plot, slight angst towards the end???

Wc: 3.3k

(A/N): Second part to my Crosshair X Oc series!!! I wasted no time starting this w the good stuff

Crosshair was going through many of his firsts it seemed. He had never been to Coruscant (until now). He had never been to the Jedi Temple (until now). And he'd certainly never snuck into a girls bedroom before (until about an hour ago). But that wasn't important. What was important was that the door was locked and the walls were thick.

The room was filled with rather loud moans and delicate whimpers. His lips were currently busy leaving bruises down the Jedi's shoulder and collar bones. Each hickey brought out another gasp from her and he stilled his hips. Still buried inside her, he was enjoying torturing her like this far too much. He made sure this mark would last. His teeth nipped at the junction of her shoulder. He buried his head there, panting into the crevice and hiding his face for the moment, just enjoying the feeling of her tight warmth around him.

Dasibri was a patient woman. But the way he stopped, leaving her feeling so full and yet so understimulated, should of been a galactic crime. There was nothing worse than when Crosshair decided to tease. She moved her hips and tried to move along his length. She could hear him chuckle above her.

"Patience..." He told her, flashing her his teeth in a brief wicked smile. Crosshair kept himself propped up on his forearm and used his other hand to wrap a hand around her throat. His grip stayed planted there for a few short moments, squeezing slightly. Within seconds his hand snaked up until he was holding her jaw, his thumb moving to pull at her bottom lip. Seconds felt like eons as his eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips, going back and forth between his temptations. He crashed their lips together at the same moment he began to move his hips again.

Using the kiss to swallow her moans, he pulled himself out almost entirely before sheathing himself back inside her. A satisfied shiver ran through him.

As much as he adored the closeness of missionary, he pulled himself back, grabbing her by her thighs and pulling her further along his cock. His hands rested on her waist as his hips moved fervently, chasing his own pleasure.

The new angle was divine. Dasibri was at a loss of words as he hit a new spot inside of her. The tip of his length bullying the deepest parts of her. "Maker-" she called out. Her hand reached down to the bundle of nerves between her thighs, but Crosshair beat her to it.

Or rather stopped her. He grabbed ahold of her wrist and he leaned back slightly to keep his center of gravity. He was breathing heavily and a thin line of sweat was gathering at his brow. His hand replaced hers and his fingers worked their magic. Rubbing precise tight circles onto her clit and hearing the corresponding moans.

"I can feel you tightening-" Cross grumbled. He let out his own gasp as the girl writhed on the bed beneath him. His fingers continued steadily until he could feel the walls surrounding his cock begin to spasm. He could feel her legs tighten around him and practically lock him in place. With her walls squeezing him tighter, he almost came on the spot. "Did you just-" he went to ask but the redness across her face and the needy whine coming from her lips told him everything he needed to know. A smugness radiated off of him that only stuck around for a few seconds before he was about to fall apart.

He was able to hold out a little bit longer though.

Crosshair held onto one of her thighs as he pistoned his hips forward. The sound of skin meeting skin was loud but was nothing compared to the wet noises that echoed the room each time he buried himself fully inside. It was beginning to become one of his favorite sounds.

His thrusts sped up and he was definitely working up a sweat now. His lips parted and he panted slightly. "I'm gonna cum" he said to her, warning her of his impending orgasm. He pulled out and pushed back in quickly, burying himself deep inside her cunt as he came. His cock twitched and shot out his release into her, his posture fell slightly, his shoulders slumped and he was breathing heavily as he was falling apart.

Crosshair had been making quite a habit of this. He looked down to the fucked out smile the girl wore as she kept her eyes closed and laid back. He pulled back, and with a groan he pulled his length out from her sopping heat. His gaze was fixed on the large amount of semen that oozed from her cunt just as he pulled out. He'd effectively ruined her sheets, that much was for certain.

With his chest still heaving the man stood up and retrieved his clothes from off the floor, just the essentials really. He grabbed his underwear and went to retrieve something he could use to help clean up.

Returning with a small towel, he handed it off to the Jedi in the bed.

"I hope that pleased" he said sarcastically. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his gaze carried over her still naked form. His eyes diverted however as she began to clean up, giving her as much privacy as he really could.

"You're insufferable, you know that right?" Dasibri said, there was no real hostility behind her words. As a matter of fact, she was smiling as she began to redress herself.

"Right" he said drawing out his words. "Because you were suffering so terribly when I was-" he began to say, but he was cut off with Dasibri throwing his blacks at his chest. He held his clothes in his arms and found himself trying to bite back a grin. He stood up and put on his pants.

Dasibri cleared her throat as she stood up, clad in her underwear and beginning to wrap her chest she spoke. "So Cross, how long are you on world for?" She asked casually. "I didn't really get to ask earlier."

Crosshair watched as she wrapped the fabric around herself. Not ogling, just watching as he answered her question. "Not sure. Told them a little fib just to get them to stop." He confessed. He watched as her hands stilled and gripped onto the fabric. He tried to guess what she was thinking. His eyes danced with mischief that went unseen. Her hands began to move again and fix her wrap.

A soft hum sounded against the bedside table. It was Crosshairs com link. The device lit up green and pulsed with an urgency. Both parties looked to the light on the table and sighed. Each of them knew what it meant and what message was about to come through. Secretly neither of them wanted it to be right.

The voice of Sergeant Hunter came through the small speaker. "Crosshair, report? Come in, your play dates over. We need to leave, we have our next mission."

Crosshair sighed heavily and went about picking up all of his things. His shirt, his armor, his shoes, it took a moment for him to get everything together. Except as he grabbed his own personal com link off the table he grabbed hers as well.

He caught her eye, sending her a silent smirk as he synced up the devices, inviting her to his private channel. They actually had a way of communicating now.

Wordlessly he put her link down and swiped his helmet up into his hands. He sighed turning to look at the Jedi in the room. She was eyeing him suspiciously, but still she smiled. "Good luck" she hummed. Dasibri picked her tunic up from off the floor. "I'll uhm... see you around sometime?" She said in question, awaiting his answer.

"Sometime" he repeated cooly. He placed his helmet over his head and exited the room. Without even looking back he left. Crosshair slipped out into the hall as smooth as he could, making his way back down to the hanger deck. If he acted like he knew what he was doing, that he belonged there. He could get away with anything.

That would of been the case if he wasn't spotted the second he walked out the damn door.

One of Dasibri's closest friends and advisors, Anakin Skywalker, had just witnessed it. He was downright livid. Just a mere hour ago he'd almost convinced himself he was crazy after seeing the Marauder parked on a landing pad. After that, it took him minutes to find out that they weren't actually stationed here. They were on Coruscant on their own accord. In their own leisure time.

Normally, that wouldn't bother him. That was all fine, the clones could do whatever they damn well pleased. He didn't care. Sure he found it strange seeing them here on Coruscant but it wasn't unheard of. In all truth he'd forgotten about it moments after seeing it.

But his opinions changed upon taking a short cut through the Knights accommodation sector. The temple was large, unbearably so. Anakin was simply trying to save himself a few steps by going through the sector. It was quiet, as was expected, nobody came through besides those who actually stayed there. The senior Jedi Knights were for the most part very quiet and busy people. Meaning, nobody was ever just sitting in their bedrooms at three in the afternoon. The entire wing should of been empty and silent.

Which was why when a door closed, Anakins interest was peaked. And then his blood boiled. His eyes narrowed as a clone slipped out of Dasibris room. As casual and nonchalant as ever.

Anakin could tell by the armor, it was Crosshair.

With his brow set, and his robes flowing behind him he stormed up to Dasibris doors as soon and the clone was out of the hall. His strides were fast and angry. He didn't knock, he didn't say a word. He barged in, catching her in the act of redressing.

His tone was laced with emotions he couldn't even name. "That a friend of yours?" He asked boldly. His voice deep and sharp with annoyance. Anakins arms crossed over his puffed out chest, he was starting to reach his limit. He didn't bother to look away from her, he just watched as she got herself dressed.

It made him beyond angry. He'd seen her bare before, this wasn't an uncommon sight. Between war zones, infirmary visits, and their own tangled past he didn't exactly feel a pressing need to divert his gaze. He scowled seeing it all. Her messy hair, the bite marks on her chest, the smell of sweat and sex in the air.

"Who?" Dasibri asked, playing dumb. She adjusted her pants again and secured them with her belt. The girl stood for a moment with just her chest wrap and her pants on, looking at him. Taunting him.

Instigating.

"Don't lie to me" Anakin warned.

Dasibri however stared at him through her mirror. Her eyes boring into him as she watched his hard gaze. "I didn't know I was required to tell you every detail of my life." She said sarcastically. The bitter edge in her voice was evident and crystal clear. "I didn't think who I concern myself with was any of your business." She said fixing her hair up in the mirror.

She began to throw on her robes as Anakin began talking. "That's cute, sweetheart." He said flatly. His endearing term feeling anything but. He sat down at the edge of her bed. "I just want to know. You been seeing him since Anaxes?" Anakin asked, still watching her piece together her robes.

She let out a sigh as she secured her tabards and her obi around her waist. "Anakin. I'm not seeing anyone. I hold no attachments, something that you could do to remember as well." She pointed out bitterly. She could see Anakins unamused and tight-lipped smile in the glass. "I met Force Ninety-Nine when I was called and stationed on Dantooine." She confessed.

Anakin wanted to stand up and scream. "Is that so?" He asked, calmly. His eyes were dark as he stared at her reflection. If he squinted and thought hard he could see every bite and bruise that was now covered. One of Hunters men did this.

"You shouldn't be worrying about me though." She told him, clipping her belt over her robes. Dasibri was ready to go now, waiting for Anakin to get up from where he sat. She clipped her lightsaber to her belt. "I'm not reason enough to stop on Coruscant. We're a long ways from Kamino" Dasibri told him. She walked towards the door. Watching Anakin as he didn't move a muscle. He stayed seated with a look of distain over his face.

"I wouldn't be so sure." He told her. His brows furrowed for a moment in thought. "What else are men like that gonna do on Coruscant?" He asked her.

Dasibri only shrugged. She didn't care all too much what they were up to, she'd already gotten what she wanted. "Who cares?" She said giving him the question. As she looked back to the door, the every same door Crosshair had left through without so much as even a proper goodbye, she felt a tightness in her chest. She immediately looked away.

"You should." Anakin told her sternly. "You're the one messing around with a clone trooper." He told her, trying to make sure she understood the importance of what she was doing. The consequences it could bring. He didn't want her to live a life of secrecy like he did.

"I appreciate your worry, Anakin. Really I do. But i'm far from the first Jedi to of ever done this. Im just the only one you care enough to scold on the matter." She told him. He didn't look happy with her, granted she wasn't too happy either now. "Now if you don't mind, im going to go meditate." Dasibri told him, once again trying to get her friend out of her room. Still he didn't budge.

"I'm just..." he had said. Anakin leaned back onto the bed slightly. His hands planted in the fabric of her comforter. He let out a long sigh.

Dasibri didn't have time for distractions like this at the moment. She hadn't planned on having any kind of company today and she was falling further behind on her schedule by the minute. Which is why Anakin began talking again, she had to restrain herself from yelling at him.

The feeling didn't fade.

Anakin had a lot of thoughts running through his head at the moment. He was offended one of his closest friends wouldn't of told him something this important about her life. Then again, he realized that he sounded like an absolute hypocrite. His list of secrets was miles long at this point. He sighed. "I'm sorry." He stated with his full chest. The hero without fear looked like he was sulking and sinking into himself. He huffed out a breath and looked at her. "That was out of line just now... sorry."

Dasibri let out an amused scoff. She finally turned to look at him. "Kriff, man. Calm down." She told him placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm trying to do the right thing here, Bri." Anakin said speaking over her rather angrily. He was quiet for a moment. Deciding his words carefully. "I value our friendship more than I value most" he said looking down, his robotic fingers playing with the sleeve of his robe.

Dasibri blinked back her surprise. An apology from Anakin Skywalker himself? She had to be dreaming.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Thinking carefully about how she wanted to respond. This was a big confession coming from him. She couldn't diminish that. "I know things have been tense lately" she mumbled. "But you have no idea just how much I value...you" she chuckled awkwardly. "With the war still on.. it's just a lot. I get that. But you need to relax. I'm here if you need me." she told him.

Anakin raised an eyebrow, a smug smile creeping onto his face. Her forgiveness alone was enough, this was just flattery. "Yeah well still." He grumbled shaking his head slightly as he wrestled with his own thoughts and memories. "I should of knocked before. I mean I-" he grumbled with himself. "It was very rude of me. I apologize"

"And you're forgiven" she said simply. "I try not to hold grudges. Takes up too much space in my mind." She said standing up from the bed and picking her comm link up. She smiled fondly and played with it in her hand.

The male seemed to physically relax against the bed, now just enjoying the company of his friend. "So, you and Crosshair huh?" He asked her, his eyebrow raised suggestively.

"You and Senator Amidala, huh?" She shot back. Dasibri watched Anakin go pale, he cleared his throat and tried to recover. "You're not very subtle. But I won't tell anyone" she told him casually. "Just you know... don't mention ninety-nine." She bargained.

Anakin spoke quickly. He held out his hand for a shake almost immediately. "Deal." He stated.

The girl chuckled and shook his metal hand and echoed back the same word. "Deal." She repeated.

He nodded and propped himself back up on his elbows. "You said you met him on Dantooine?" He asked. His gaze raised to look at her for her approval. Anakin saw her nod as she messed with her comm. "How'd you manage to let a guy like that in those robes? I mean he seems like a-"

"Like a what?" Dasibri asked nearly snorting with laughter. "Don't you come in here and question my judgement. I remember you flirting up a storm with Luminara" she mentioned as she opened her beside drawer. She pulled out a data pad and begun synching them. "Besides he's hot under that helmet."

Anakin snickered as he stared at the ceiling of the bedroom. "If you say so." He said, absolutely bewildered as he shook his head. "I still think you could of chose better." He said throwing in his opinion. "Why not Rex? Or Fives?" He asked her. Why not one of his men? Why not someone he knew and trusted. Someone who would clearly receive her best friends approval.

"Because they aren't six foot four and willing to give me what I want." She told him casually. She tapped a few buttons and looked at the now official contact link between them.

"Yeah? And what do you want?" He asked her with a dramatic eye roll.

Dasibri was thinking out loud, barely aware of the lack of filter. She'd been doing that an awful lot as of late. "I don't know, they all look up to the Jedi too much. I think if I ever let one of them touch me they'd treat it like a checklist objective." She tried to explain. ""The regular clones are so... respectable?" She said sounding confused herself. "I don't know but Crosshair he's just different. He's cool, you know? He doesn't like me like that. It's just fun, you know"

"So let me get this straight." Anakin said sitting up on the bed now, looking at her seriously. "You like him because he's 'cool' and he doesn't respect you? I don't know what worlds you've been to lately but you need to get your head checked" Anakin nudged her side and tried to joke with her. "Fair warning, you sound insane." Anakin mumbled. He wasn't trying to kinkshame or judge for the most part. He was just worried.

"Yeah but that's how you don't form attachments" she told him with a long sigh. She flipped open her data pad, looking at the blinking message that came through. Crosshair had already messaged her.

"That makes sense... I guess?" Anakin agreed quietly.

"Yeah" Dasibri replied half paying attention. Her chest felt tight and her head felt light. She almost believed it herself.

#bad batch #crosshair #the bad batch #star wars #tbb crosshair #star wars fic #smut #the bad batch smut #crosshair smut #18+#MDNI

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cringemesstickles · 7 months

Text

No Magic Needed

(TickleTober Day 1: Anticipation)

Summary: Dean and Cas team up and wreck Sam. :’)

Pairings: None

A/N: HAPPY TKTOBER EVERYONE!!!! :D

I know I know, I wrote a lee!sam fic for day 1. Sue me

———————————————————

It was a relaxing day at the bunker; the dim lighting mixed with the soft hum of the air conditioner providing a comfortable atmosphere, perfect for a day off.

Sam was on the couch, engrossed in a novel, while Castiel sat motionless with an intense expression, looking as if he was pondering life’s most troubling questions.

The scene was a little mundane for Dean’s taste; luckily, he was the king of mischief and had the perfect scheme to add some flair to their day off.

He waited for Sam to momentarily walk away, then with a mischievous grin on his face, he approached the stoic angel, making sure Sam couldn’t hear them.

Getting the angel’s attention, Dean spoke in a mischievous tone.

“Hey, Cas… I bet you I can tickle Sam without even touching him.”

Castiel was taken aback by the abrupt claim, though very intrigued.

“Without touching? Did you find some sort of spell?” He asked curiously, unsure that he’d wanna partake in any risky spell work.

Dean laughed and shook his head.

“Nope. No magic, no spells, none of that; just pure skill.” He crossed his arms with a proud expression, clearly pleased with his ‘talents’.

Castiel thought for a moment before nodding his head.

“Very well then. What’s the trick?”

Dean clapped his hands together with a playful glint in his eye.

“Alright, Cas. I’m gonna need your help to hold him down. Then you’ll get to see the real magic!”

And so, they waited for Sam to return, which didn’t take long at all. Dean and Cas exchanged a knowing glance, Dean giving the angel a look that said ‘alright, let’s torture my baby brother’.

On the silent count of three, the duo ambushed Sam; Castiel moving to sit cross legged on one end of the couch with his arms open while Dean pops up from the other side and pushes Sam backwards, the youngest landing with his head in the angel’s lap as said angel grabbed his wrists in a gentle yet firm grip.

Dean then proceeded to sit on Sam’s hips, the team effort ensuring Sam wouldn’t escape.

Sam’s eyes widened at the sudden ambush and his cheeks turned rosy, having a hunch as to what the two were up to.

“Hey! What the hell, guys!?” He shouted, trying to mask his nervousness.

Dean looked at Castiel, ready to proudly demonstrate his skills.

“What’s the matter, Sammy? You’re looking a little… skittish!” He darted his hands towards Sam’s stomach, stopping just before he made contact, fingers hovering dangerously close to the sensitive tummy.

Sam yelped and squirmed, the fake-out making him even more nervous now that his suspicions were confirmed.

“D-Dean, no! D-Don’t!” He protested, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Dean smirked wickedly and pinched the hem of Sam’s shirt, slowly rolling up the fabric to reveal the soft expanse of Sam’s tummy.

The action was so painfully slow and Sam could already feel his brothers fingers skittering over his sensitive skin. The thought made him squirm and he accidentally let out a little giggle,

blushing brightly when the embarrassing noise escaped.

The reaction only fueled Dean’s playful demeanor and he made a face of mock surprise, a sly grin etched on his face.

“Oh? What’s this? Little Sammy is giggling already? I haven’t even said his favorite word yet!”

Oh no.

Sam knew exactly what word Dean was talking about.

“Nohoho! Don’t you d-dare say ihihit!”

Dean just laughed with playful menace before leaning in close and whispering in Sam’s ear.

“Tickle tickle tickle~”

Sam squeaked and burst into laughter, the word getting under his skin and flustering him just like it always did.

Castiel looked both surprised and amused, looking down at Sam’s flushed expression.

“Well, Dean, I must admit I was skeptical of your claims, but low and behold…”

The comment only seemed to make Sam laugh louder and Dean smirk even more deviously.

“Oh just you wait, my feathery friend. You haven’t seen anything yet!”

Sam’s midriff was exposed by now, the cool air hitting his skin and making him shutter.

The elder Winchester hovered his hands above Sam’s tummy and began to teasingly wiggle his fingers just inches away from the sensitive flesh, delighting in the way the tummy quivered as if already being tickled; Sam snorting and shaking his head, fluffy brown hair whipping around with him.

“Eeek! Dehehean, stohohop!” Sam squealed, face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.

“Stop what, Sammy? I haven’t even started yet!” The elder grinned deviously.

“Oh, but when I do…”

He chuckled ominously,

“You’ll be laughing so loud, the bunker will be at risk of being found~”

Castiel chuckled and decided to chime in,

“I believe his laughter has already reached that point, Dean.”

“You have no idea, Cas. I haven’t even touched him yet and look at him; all blushy and giggly, simply from the thought of getting that cute little tummy scratched and scribbled on~”

Sam was indeed a blushing mess.

Every tease and taunt was like a magic spell that shot tingly sensations straight to his belly, making him squirm with anticipation.

What was truly driving him insane was how long this was taking; he was growing slightly impatient with the lack of actual tickles. Phantom tickles just weren’t enough to satisfy his sudden craving.

The younger Winchester arched his back in an attempt to get closer to his brother’s hands, making Dean laugh at the blatant eagerness from his little brother.

“Aww, someone’s getting impatient~ what d’ya think, Cas? should I give this cutie pie his tickle tickle tickles?~”

Sam whined childishly, face burning red at the flustering baby talk.

Castiel hummed thoughtfully.

“I do believe you’ve kept him waiting long enough. He’s earned it.” The angel nodded, looking down to see Sam’s eyes widen with excitement.

Dean couldn’t help but melt a little at the joyful sparkle in Sam’s eyes.

They’d been through so much, and to see Sam’s eyes sparkle with undeniable happiness was a true gift.

He quickly buried the mushy thoughts for the time being, snapping back to his teasy tickle monster persona.

“You heard him, Sammy. Get ready for the tickliest tickle attack ever!” He poised his hands to attack, forming claws with his hands and starting a countdown, knowing it would drive Sam crazy.

“Three…” he inched his hands closer.

“Waitwaitwait-” Sam giggled nervously.

“Two…” he inched his hands even closer.

“Deheheeean!!” Sam let out a giggly whine.

“One!”

Sam let out a high pitched shriek, bursting into bright boyish laughter, squeezing his eyes shut with mirth.

Dean burst out laughing, incredibly amused by his brother’s reaction for a key reason that Sam was unaware of.

“Sammy, open your eyes.. Haha!”

Hesitant but curious, Sam took a peek to see what Dean found so hilarious, laughing all the while.

What he saw were his brother’s hands completely still, still hovering over his belly.

Dean hadn’t tickled him.

Sam’s laughter died down and his eyes widened once again, comically so.

The red coloring his face could give a cherry a run for its money.

He tried to bury his face in the crook of his arm, completely mortified.

Even the stoic angel of the lord had to laugh.

“Well that’s a noise I’ve never heard from you, Sam. I must say, it was quite endearing.” He smiled fondly, his voice dripping with sincerity.

“That’s so unfair!” Sam whined, his lips forming a pout.

Dean, feeling mildly bad, decided to sincerely give Sam the tickles he had been waiting for.

“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist! Ok, for real this time.”

He didn’t waste time with the count down, figuring he’d tortured Sam enough.

He dug claw shaped hands into Sam’s sensitive tummy, eliciting a loud squeal from his younger brother, followed by bright bubbly laughter.

“DEHEHEHEAN!!”

Dean relished in the sound of his little brother’s laughter; the sound pure and joyful.

Even Castiel found himself chuckling at the precious sounds.

“You know, Sam.. your laugh is really quite lovely.” Cas smiled, his voice filled with sincerity, earning a shy giggle from Sam.

“Hehe- nooooo!!”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“No? Are you saying your laugh isn’t lovely, Sam? Well we’ve just gotta do something about that!”

As soon as Sam saw the spark in Dean’s eyes, he knew exactly what was coming.

“wait- nonono eEP!! DEHEHEHEE!!”

Dean had leaned down and started blowing sloppy wet raspberries all over Sam’s belly, knowing how much Sam always loved them.

Sam was cackling and kicking his long legs, tummy tingling in the most delightful way.

Their lives were without a doubt, very hard. But it was the little moments like this that made it all more bearable.

When Sam started wheezing, Dean and Cas took that as their queue to let up.

Sam lay panting on the couch, head still resting in Castiel’s lap, cheeks rosy and a tickle-happy smile glued to his face.

“You guys suhuhuck..” he giggled, the phantom tickles still lingering.

Dean laughed and ruffled his brothers hair.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy that. I know you too well little brother.” He winked.

Sam sighed, relaxing even further when the angel started combing his fingers through the soft brown locks.

And so, the trio continued to enjoy their day off; the remainder of the day filled with even more laughter, all thanks to Dean’s need for mischief.

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