#I will keep bashing until something breaks

[cloudcountry]

Hiiiiiiii aubbieee uhhhh if it’s not too much trouble can I request just something fluffy with Johnny it doesn’t have to be anything specific just romantic hcs with him in general if that makes sense! Uh ty and have a good day!

SUMMARY: a small excerpt of you and johnny leaving your date / romantic johnny headcanons!

COMMENTS: HAI SAPPHHYYYY THANK U FOR REQUESTING <33 i hope i did him justice i fear i had to pull his playthrough out of the dusty shadows of my brain

It’s quiet outside. There’s a soft, cool breeze that ruffles your clothes and the hair of the man beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours. A gentle melody drifts through the air, a low baritone from the core of his being as he sings that sends your heart fluttering. It’s all too easy to remember the man in your shower—the man who was your shower—but now that he’s out and about with you, real and tangible, there’s something different about him.

The notes trail off, and there is silence. Then,

“Please, darling,” he coos, squeezing your hand bashfully, “Can I see you again?”

Warmth floods your cheeks as you look over at him. His hands are shaking and he looks more nervous than he had all evening, a flustered smile spreading across his lips.

There’s a rule that you don’t kiss people on first dates. Johnny makes you think that rule is stupid.

“Of course,” you whispered, voice breaking, and you squeeze his hand perhaps a little too hard in response, “Johnny, what makes you think I wouldn’t?”

Because you would, and you missed him the second he left and you would miss him forever if he didn’t give you the privilege of staying by his side.

“Oh, sweet honey pies that makes me so happy,” he bites his lower lip, trying to keep his voice hushed as excitement swells within him, crashing against his heart and his mind and his very soul, “I didn’t know...well, if you had another, or...you are just...so wonderful.”

You bite back a smile, debating for only a single moment before you’re pulling him into your embrace, squeezing him so tight he gasps. His arms wrap around you in turn. You can feel the shape of his smile pressing against you, and it sends your heart tumbling in your chest.

Johnny is one of the kindest lovers you will ever have. He’s so interested in you and your interests and everything that you are. He’s a loverboy through and through!

He also holds open doors for you and pulls out your chair first. Be prepared to be treated like royalty when he takes you into his arms and whisks you away.

I feel like all of these have been canon, and this is no different. He sings you love songs, some of which he wrote for you and others he simply performs. If you ask Jean Loo, their composition and rhythm is all off, but who asks a toilet anything anyway?

When the two of you are cuddling late at night, he taps rhythms against your skin, humming softly whenever he’s half asleep. It might have become annoying if you didn’t love him so much.

The moment in which he called you jealous and pushed you away haunts him more than he would like to admit. Johnny makes up for it by telling you he loves you at least twice every day, once in the morning and once before you go to bed. And that's not counting all the in betweens!

That being said, he does get a little flustered whenever you offer him praise. Johnny isn’t shy, but he can be a bit bashful while still maintaining his confidence.

It isn’t until the fifth date that he stops asking if he can see you again. It’s honestly quite precious, but damn Johnny haven’t they already made it CLEAR!!

[itzpookiepooh]

Pleaser Pleaser

You’re a people pleaser (and so am I)

You guys were eating out after Rafayel successfully sold all this art. It was a joyous occasion, key word was. Everything was going well until the waitress decided she wanted to give you what you didn’t ask for. Rafayel didn’t like that and he especially didn’t like that you brushed it off and were going to eat what she brought you. His eyes narrowed at you as his fingertips tap in a rhythm on the table.

“Do you just accept anything that happens to you?” He bluntly asked since it was eating at him.

“Huh?” You tilted your head with furrowed brows. He sighs dramatically.

“Why are you about to eat something you don’t even want?” He questioned you with clasped hands on the table.

“I don’t like making anyone’s job harder than it already is.” You explained to him with a shrug.

He rolls his eyes before holding your hands across the table. He flags down the waitress and smiles at her politely before saying, “Excuse me. Hi, my partner didn’t order this.”

She immediately apologized and said she would fix it. He turned to you with a raised eyebrow. You roll your eyes feeling a bit bashful for being the way you were.

“You can always lean on me if need be.” He tells you with a smile. You’d gladly lean on him especially since he’s more outspoken.

Your friends got into it with each other and oh boy were you in a pickle. It was all so stupid! One wanted to go to a concert to see their favorite artist while the other wanted to see theirs. You didn’t mind what either one thought. You were fine with whatever.

“You’re stretching yourself thin for them but they’re not accommodating you at all.” Caleb informed you as you paced trying to figure out how to keep the peace between your friends.

“Everyone’s angry and I just want everyone to not argue.” You ramble. He felt bad for you causing him to grab you.

You stopped pacing and looked at him. He smiled sadly.

“If they are putting you in a position to choose then maybe it’s time we choose ourselves.” He affirmed, this got you thinking.

“But I don’t want anyone to be upset with me because I did that! Or even if I’m not mediating.” You explained as you hug yourself. You felt so small.

“They’ll get mad regardless because they’re angry at each other but breaking yourself down to please them isn’t going to help you.” He explained making you lean into him.

“What would I do without you?” You asked him softly making him smile.

“Pace the floor all night—ouch! Hey!” He laughed as you pinched him playfully.

You were exhausted and you haven’t had a decent wink of sleep in who knows how long. People needed you for many different things and you couldn’t say no. Dragging yourself there on hopes and dreams has been on your itinerary for the time being.

“You’re stretching yourself thin.” Zayne called from the table making you jump.

“I have to help out.” You told him as he sipped his drink. “You can always say no.” He affirmed making you sigh.

“I can’t. They need me besides I just overcommitted that.” You tried to convince more yourself than him.

“And yet not one has noticed how haggard you are nor have they checked on you after the fact.” He countered making you freeze. He was right nobody called after you gave them whatever they asked for.

“I don’t want to be cast aside. I want to keep the peace.” Your voice trembled as you fumbled with your keys.

“At the cost of your health?” He replied making you pout. “I want you healthy and happy but this isn’t healthy nor are you happy.”

He stalked towards you engulfing you in his arms. You sniffled taking in his words. He kissed your forehead and rubbed your arms.

“I’ll always support your decisions but I won’t let your health be the suffering effect.” He spoke calmly, softly into the crown of your head.

You’ve been apologizing to your friend and Xavier all day. While your friend accepts it and brushes you off, Xavier eyes you with concern. Why are you apologizing to everyone? You did nothing wrong.

It wasn’t your fault your friend was having a bad day. It wasn’t your fault their lover was garbage. It wasn’t your fault your friend had a strained relationship with their sister either. He had to have a conversation with you when you guys got home.

“Why do you keep apologizing?” Xavier asked as he sat with you on the bean bag chairs.

You could only shrug. You’ve been like this since you were a kid. You always apologized because you felt like you had to apologize.

“I just do it I guess.” You spoke quietly making him nod slowly.

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.” He explained to you. You thought to yourself.

It was a force of habit but why were you apologizing?

“I guess I just have a guilty feeling. I don’t know why I just do.” You explained. He pursed his lips before putting his hand over yours.

“We can work through it together. I just don’t want you apologizing for things that you have no control over.” He told you. His voice was soft and kind as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Thanks Xavier.” You whispered into his shoulder.

You were a bit of an overachiever at times. Sylus noticed you were doing things to get his approval. You would work hard at any task to hear that sweet ‘good job’ from him. When he noticed he had to say something.

He walked into the room behind you before he asked about it. You just raised an eyebrow. You didn’t really notice you did it. You have always been this way. No one’s ever questioned it til now.

“I don’t know…I guess I like the rewards.” You told him. You weren’t wrong though, hearing him say he was proud of you felt like a reward. It made you all giddy to hear it.

Old draft with new dividers am I right?

[sum1theteddy]

This is just my inability to stop writing Shendon... in the midst of writing another Shendon fic. Please enjoy this snippet that won't fit anywhere lmao. This is somewhat canon in my series is my heart an overflowing ocean and will fall in what I like to call my Frank's divorce arc, after rehab.

The first time he sees Frank’s grown out stubble, he laughs at him. Shen grabs one of the gurneys and doubles over the railing laughing until his sides hurt.  Frank rolls his eyes at him and shoves him off the gurney. He tries to calm down, he really does, to stop laughing. But he looks at him and starts giggling all over again. “You look so stupid. Shave that off!!” He says after he finally, finally stops laughing, though the grin on his face doesn’t leave. “I think I look good. Just need to let it grow out a bit.” Frank says but he can hear the pouting in it a little bit. “You don’t. You look like you’re going through a midlife crisis- which I suppose you are.” “Hey!”  Shen snickers and raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just saying.” “Well, I’m keeping this beard.” “Sure man. If you want to look like a deranged light house keeper, who am I to stop you?” Frank had flipped him off and walked away leaving John to continue the handover with Robby who shakes his head at him, giving him a knowing look. That had been 3 months ago. Shen stared at Frank across the ER, who was talking with one of the nurses about… something. Something he could care less about. Because the beard had grown in and something about him looked different and Shen felt the familiar sense of attraction he had for the man burning through his chest.  “Jesus. Are you trying to break that tablet?” Jack’s familiar voice appears beside him and John finally tears his gaze away from Frank to look at his senior. Then down at the tablet he was holding, the skin around his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping it. “I think you need you to put me down. I feel like I’m becoming rabid. ” Jack laughs at him and Shen shakes his head, “I’m not even joking. I will go insane.” “So you don’t think it’s stupid anymore?” “It stopped being stupid when my brain can only imagine him naked.” “Okay, gross.” “You asked.” He snaps back, and Jack snorts as he shakes his head. “I guess I did. But still.” Shen turns back to look at Frank who was stretching out like a cat, hands reaching for the ceiling, which revealed a silver of skin underneath his scrubs and he wants to do nothing more than bash his head into the table.  “Okay, yeah, you need to euthanize me for sure.” He says and Jack cackles, slapping his back gently. “You’ll get used to it.” “Get used to what?” Shen’s attention snaps to the new voice which is Robby who leans down to press a kiss to Jack’s curl. It unfurls his frustration, “This is all your fault, you know.” He proclaims, handing Robby the tablet before storming off to the lockers, eager to go home and shower. Shower away these thoughts. “What… Should I even ask?” Robby asks, scrunching his nose and turning to look at Jack who just shakes his head with a grin, “Nope!”

[fenrirgraves]

Perfectly functioning feature on a perfectly functioning app for a perfectly functioning webzone

[arolesbianism]

In the future I believe I shall be calling looped Chou Piéride even tho they'd still go by Chou for clarities sake 👍

[plethorawrites]

hey! what about clark who always makes you ride him because he’s afraid that with him on top he might hurt you cause he’ll lose control of his powers?

Oookkayyy. I believe I'm veering into some very precarious territory, lmao. But, yess, I do have thoughts! (NSFW content)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Despite the fact that Clark Kent was 6'3 (while slouching), 225 pounds, and otherwise incredibly built, he was perhaps the least physically intimidating person alive. In fact, he was practically terrified of his own features—the same ones that made you utterly melt.

It wasn't until you discovered his identity as Superman that you realized the reason his hands never actually touched you during hugs, and he preferred you holding his arm over holding hands with each other. He was afraid. He always had been, in a way, but it was usually manageable.

That was because he wasn't trying to pursue a relationship.

You were affectionate, craving attention in whatever form possible, from cuddling on the couch to just grazing his pinky with yours while at lunch. And you wished he would return it more than he did. He wanted to. He really did. It was just so damn hard when he was terrified to hurt you. He'd never forgive himself if he did something that harmed you in any way.

The more physical your relationship became, the harder it became to reduce contact to the minimum amount he could get away with. You wanted more and so did he. But he could crush you without even meaning to, break your bones by just holding your hips, maybe even something worse than both of those things.

No, if you needed intimacy, he would gladly give it to you, since he wanted it just as badly, but he'd refrain from doing anything that could cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort or harm. You, being on top, was the only sensible answer.

Not to mention, incredibly attractive.

You always were, but there was something about the angle, about him just laying there, staring at you, watching you get lost in your own euphoria that drove him insane. The way your hair kept falling into your face, your fingernails kept digging further into the skin of his shoulders or chest, how your eyes sparkled brighter than usual.

To say nothing of how you actually felt, your hips soft against his bare skin with every slight roll you made, grinding against him slowly to prolong your time together as long as possible.

He could barely handle your usual smile, but the one you were giving him right now, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress a little huff of laughter made his heart clench.

"What?" He wondered, his breathing a bit heavy. He was doing a terrible job of keeping his composure and was pretty sure you could tell.

You shook your head, your hands planted firmly on his chest while admiring the way his head always tilted when he was curious. "Nothing," you mumbled, the word taking a little while to find since you had to focus enough to remember how to speak. "You just..." Your lips pursed as one especially long drag of your hips made your breath hitch. "... You're like a pillow prince." You teased a moment later.

Clark's mouth dropped a little, in surprise but not offense. You weren't exactly wrong. He was laying there, his hands behind his head, watching you do all the work, like always. But it wasn't because he wanted to. In fact, he was itching to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his hands and it was taking all his restraint not to flip you over. He just couldn't risk it.

"Maybe I just like the view," he replied, his hips jerking up slightly when he felt you clench around him. His jaw tightened at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he reveled in the feeling for a moment. "You—" he swallowed, his eyes opening. "—are you so perfect on top of me."

Another bashful smile spread across your face as you dropped your head and resisted the urge to move your hair, afraid that if he moved his hands, he'd lose control entirely.

"You like watching me struggle," you muttered, your hands moving to his shoulders to grip them tightly, your movements slowing to a stop, trying to catch your breath. "Admit it..." You panted. "... you're a sadist."

He laughed, his body shaking under you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he assured you. "You're doing good for me."

You hummed slightly at the praise, closing your eyes for a moment. "It's exhausting," you admitted, your legs killing you despite the enjoyment. "Always so... difficult."

"I know," he responded sympathetically, hesitantly removing his hands from behind your back, hovering them over your thighs for a while, contemplating before carefully setting his hands on them. He just couldn't resist anymore. You were too damn tempting.

You moved your hands to cover his, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You gonna help me, for once?" You murmur, trying to joke but failing. The words came out with too much lust for that.

He nodded slightly, focusing on making sure his fingers didn't accidentally dig into your skin too hard. "Tell me," he said seriously, staring into your eyes. "The second I take it too far."

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him. "You're not going to hurt me," you whispered. "I trust you."

[rafecameronssl4t]

Actors on Actors || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: Actress!reader and Drew partaking in Variety's Actors on Actors!!

Warnings: not proofread sozz

Word count: 3,057 loooong one

A/n: damn I felt like I was in the interview room for this one

MASTERLIST

Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the crew flitted around, prepping for the Actors on Actors interview with Variety. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing lightly at something one of the staff members had said, your head tilted back, eyes sparkling. To him, you looked utterly breathtaking—ethereal, even. Everyone knew Drew Starkey had the biggest crush on you.

He was never subtle about it, often caught in candid interviews or behind-the-scenes clips praising you, his admiration so obvious it became a running joke among his friends and colleagues. But right now, as he adjusted his mic and watched you from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn’t been so vocal about it. His nerves were getting the best of him.

What if he said something dumb? What if you already thought he was just some lovesick fool? He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as you walked toward the set, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Drew Starkey,” you greeted warmly, a radiant smile lighting up your features as you settled into the armchair opposite him.

You sat first, crossing your legs effortlessly, the picture of poise. “Y/n,” Drew smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss both of your cheeks. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing, but he played it cool as you let out a soft laugh, your perfume lingering faintly in the air.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his tone steady, though there was a barely perceptible edge to it—a nervous undertone that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His gaze lingered on yours, longer than what might be considered polite, but you didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good, and—” You paused mid-sentence as Drew suddenly leaned forward, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry—hold on,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, softer, as his fingers reached toward the hem of your dress. “You’ve got a little something.” Before you could respond, he gently plucked a stray piece of lint from the fabric, his fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the material.

The touch was fleeting, almost inconsequential, but it sent a quiet thrill up your spine, one you quickly masked with a polite chuckle. “Oh—thanks,” you said, your voice airy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome,” Drew replied, his lips curving into a shy grin, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by something more boyish and endearing.

For a moment, you could swear his ears turned a little pink. You leaned back, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you studied him. Of course you knew Drew Starkey had a crush on you. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

But there was something undeniably flattering about it—something that made you feel just a bit lighter, a bit more self-assured. However, you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. It was Drew Starkey after all.

Your eyes met again, and the silence between you stretched into something that felt almost electric. Both of you wore soft, bashful smiles, the moment teetering between unspoken words and playful tension. Finally, you broke into a small laugh, breaking the spell, and Drew looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his own smile lingering despite himself.

“You know,” you began, shifting slightly in your seat, “it’s kind of funny. We’ve both been at so many of the same events, but we’ve never actually talked until now.” Drew chuckled, his posture relaxing just a little. “I know, right? It’s crazy. First time was… the Glass Onion premiere, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I was there supporting Madelyn," Drew spoke. "Ugh, I miss Maddie," You give a small pout as Drew chuckles. “And then Immaculate, I remember standing right behind you in the photo line.” You laughed, your cheeks warming at the memory.

“Oh my god, yes! And somehow, we still didn’t even say hi.” “And then the Queer premiere a couple weeks ago,” Drew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Right,” you said, leaning forward slightly as your laughter softened into a chuckle. “It’s wild how we’ve been orbiting around each other this whole time.”

“Crazy, huh?” Drew murmured, his voice lower now, his eyes soft as they lingered on you. The way he looked at you was different—not just admiration, but genuine warmth, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “How’s everything been?” Drew asks, leaning back in his chair, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity, as if he genuinely wants to know every detail.

“It’s good,” you reply with a soft smile, shifting slightly in your seat. “I’m here in LA, which is nice—” Before you can finish, he interjects, his brow arching in curiosity. “You’re from New England, right?” You click your tongue playfully, tilting your head at him. “I see someone’s done their research, Mr. Starkey,” you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

Drew’s grin widens, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and easy, like he’s completely at ease for the first time since the cameras started rolling. “I had to, didn’t I? You’re not exactly an open book. I had to dig deep.” “Oh, is that so?” you challenge, your voice lilting with mock skepticism.

“Well, since you’re so curious, tell me—what do you know about New England?” you challenge, leaning forward slightly. He grins, but it’s a little sheepish. “Not much, if I’m honest. You’ll have to fill in the blanks for me. What’s it like there?” Your eyes widen in exaggerated disbelief, your hand fluttering to your chest like you’ve been insulted.

“Wait—you’ve never been? My goodness, Drew! Come with me, and I’ll show you around properly,” you say, your tone teasing but full of warmth. His smile softens, and he leans in just a little. “I’d like that very much,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second. “Well then,” you reply with a chuckle, regaining your composure.

“I think we can organise something. You’re from North Carolina, yeah?” Drew hums in confirmation, his grin widening. “Born and raised. But I gotta admit, New England sounds pretty tempting now.” “It should,” you quip, pointing at him playfully. Then, after a beat, you lean in slightly, an amused gleam in your eye.

“Can I just say—and I’m sure you get this a lot—I’m a huge fan of Outer Banks.” Drew raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly bashful as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re team Pogue,” he jokes, but his eyes are fixed on you with a playful sparkle.

You snort softly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Not quite. But I’ve gotta say, you play Rafe so convincingly. How do you approach a character like Rafe? I mean, you’re, you know… the complete opposite of him.” You chuckle, your words carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief.

Drew leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Well, Rafe is a challenge, to say the least. He’s not your typical villain. It’s easy to hate him on the surface, but if you dig deeper, he’s this broken guy with so many vulnerabilities. That’s where I try to focus—on making him human. I want people to see why he makes those awful decisions, even if they don’t agree with them. It’s all about balance.”

You nod, your expression softening as you listen. “That’s fascinating,” you say earnestly. “It’s definitely what makes him such a compelling character.” Drew smiles, but you notice something different about his gaze. He isn’t just answering your question—he’s watching you, his eyes holding a softness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Before the moment can linger too long, Drew shifts the focus back to you. “And your character in Ghosted,” he says, his voice warm and curious. “It’s so different from anything you’ve done before. How did you prepare for that role?” You smile at the question, grateful for his genuine interest.

“It was a lot of emotional work,” you admit, leaning back slightly. “She’s so different from me in so many ways. I spent a lot of time understanding her motivations, her fears, and what drives her. It’s a very internal role, so the process was… draining, to say the least. But also rewarding.” Drew’s lips curve into a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds intense,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always wondered in the film how you guys manage to keep it together when the emotions run that deep.” You shrug lightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not easy, but that’s the beauty of the craft, isn’t it? Tapping into those emotions and channelling them into something real.”

Drew nods, his expression softening even further. There’s something unspoken in his gaze—something that lingers longer than words can express. “Yeah,” he says finally, his voice dropping just a fraction. “I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. I’ve seen your work—it’s inspiring.” His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you can’t help the rush of warmth that floods your chest.

A small, genuine smile spreads across your face. “I could say the same for you,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, it’s like the rest of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you, sharing something unspoken yet deeply understood. Drew shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity evident. “So, let’s talk about Saltburn. You played Venetia Catton. How did you even begin to prepare for a role like that?"

You smile, the mention of Saltburn immediately bringing back memories. “Honestly, Venetia was one of the most challenging but rewarding roles I’ve ever taken on. Emerald Fennell has such a sharp, specific vision as a director, and she brought so much depth to every single character. Venetia wasn’t just the surface-level socialite that she might appear to be at first glance. She’s deeply entrenched in this world of privilege, but there’s a kind of desperation underneath it all—this need to hold it all together, to maintain this facade of control.”

Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “I feel like Emerald has this incredible knack for creating characters who feel both larger than life and painfully real. What was it like working with her?” “Incredible,” you answer without hesitation. “Emerald is so collaborative and detail-oriented, but she also gives you the freedom to bring your own interpretation to the role. She’s this powerhouse of creativity, and you always feel like you’re in safe hands with her. She’s also hilarious—like, incredibly funny—so even on the more intense days, there was always this underlying sense of ease on set.”

Drew smiles at that, clearly invested. “And then there’s the cast. I mean, Rosamund Pike, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi—they’re all such giving actors. What was it like working alongside them?” You exhale softly, recalling the dynamic energy of the cast. “It was surreal, honestly. Rosamund Pike is… well, she’s Rosamund Pike. She’s this commanding presence on set, but she’s also so warm and generous as a scene partner. Barry, on the other hand, is just a chameleon. He’s fearless in the way he approaches his craft, and watching him work was like taking a masterclass every day.”

“And Jacob?” Drew asks, his tone light but curious. “He’s been everywhere lately.” “Jacob’s amazing,” you reply with a smile. “He’s so grounded, which is kind of funny considering the larger-than-life characters he’s been playing lately. But on set, he’s just this really laid-back, thoughtful guy. We had a lot of fun with our scenes together—he brings this kind of effortless charisma that makes everything feel natural.”

Drew leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a stacked team. No pressure at all, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no pressure whatsoever. Just casually working with some of the most talented people in the industry.” “Well, you pulled it off,” Drew says sincerely. “Venetia felt so fully realised—like, even in her silences, there was so much going on beneath the surface. It was fascinating to watch.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, his compliment catching you off guard. There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “So,” you say, shifting into the next topic, “you’ve played a lot of interesting characters—Rafe Cameron, of course, but also roles like Zach in The Other Zoey and the projects you’ve got coming up. Do you feel like people expect you to stick to certain kinds of roles because of how iconic Rafe has become?”

Drew’s smile fades just a little, his expression turning thoughtful. He seems to appreciate the question, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he answers. “Yeah, there’s definitely that expectation sometimes,” he admits. “Rafe is such a big character, and I think when people see you in one role, they assume that’s all you can do. But as actors, we want to stretch ourselves, you know? Surprise people.”

He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s kind of like you, actually,” he adds softly. “You’ve done dramas, you’ve done comedies… you’ve proven that you’re not just one thing. I think that’s what makes people really root for you—you're versatile. You don’t let them put you in a box.” The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks again. You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to let his words completely throw you off balance.

“That’s… really nice of you to say,” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think that’s the beauty of what we do, right? Showing people different sides of ourselves, through the characters we play.” Drew nods, his eyes softening. “Exactly. You just said it better than I could.” You smile, letting the moment hang between you for just a beat longer than it probably should.

You adjust in your seat, leaning forward slightly as you shift the focus of the interview. “Alright, let’s talk about Queer. You play Eugene, and from everything I’ve heard, it’s such an emotionally rich and complex role. What drew you to it, Drew?" You smile as he laughs. “Honestly, it was the script. You know with it being based on William S. Burroughs’ novel, and the way it explored themes of longing, identity, and self-destruction… it was just so raw. Eugene is such a fascinating character because he’s flawed, but you can’t help but empathise with him. It felt like a challenge I couldn’t pass up.”

You nod, smiling softly. “It sounds like it required you to really dig deep emotionally. Was it intimidating stepping into a story like that?” “Completely,” Drew admits with a laugh. “But it was also the kind of role that forces you to grow as an actor. I had to be vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been before, which was scary but also freeing. And having someone like Luca Guadagnino directing—it felt like a safety net, you know? He creates such a safe, collaborative environment.”

“Luca’s brilliant,” you agree, your voice filled with admiration. “And then there’s Daniel Craig. What was your experience working with him? I mean- I remember working with him on Glass Onion and being blow away by how meticulous he is." Drew grins, a flicker of boyish excitement crossing his face. “Oh, he’s incredible. Daniel is one of those actors who’s just so present in every scene. He has this intensity, but he’s also really generous as a scene partner. He listens, reacts—he makes you feel like what you’re doing really matters.”

You smile, nodding your head, "He's also got such a great sense of humour!" Drew laughs, nodding. “Exactly! Like, he can go from delivering this super heavy, emotional scene to cracking a joke that has the entire crew in stitches. It’s such a unique balance, and it keeps the energy on set really light, even during the intense moments.”

“Do you have a favourite memory with him from filming?” you ask, genuinely curious. “There’s this one scene we did that was really emotionally charged—like, full-on tears and everything,” Drew begins, his smile softening. “After we wrapped the take, I was still kind of in that headspace, and Daniel just clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, that was bloody exhausting, wasn’t it?’ It snapped me out of it, and we both just started laughing. It was one of those moments where you realise, ‘Okay, this is heavy, but it’s also what we love to do.’”

You laugh at the image of Daniel’s bluntness, shaking your head. “That’s so him. He has a way of grounding you, doesn’t he?” “Completely,” Drew agrees. “And honestly, having him on set made me feel like I had to step up my game. He’s such a pro, and you can’t help but want to match that level of commitment.”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It sounds like Queer really pushed you as an actor, in the best way.” “It did,” Drew says earnestly. “And, you know, hearing you talk about working with Daniel—what was it like for you? I mean, I imagine Glass Onion had a very different vibe, but I’m sure he brought that same energy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply. “Daniel has this way of making everyone feel like they’re part of something special. And with Glass Onion, there was this playful energy because the story is so twisty and fun, but Daniel was always so focused and intentional with every scene.” Drew leans in slightly, clearly fascinated. “Did you ever have one of those moments with him where you just stopped and thought, ‘Wow, I’m working with James Bond’?”

You laugh, nodding. “More than once! It’s impossible not to. But then you get to know him, and he’s just… Daniel. Down-to-earth, funny, and incredibly kind. It makes you forget about the whole ‘James Bond’ thing—at least for a little while.” Drew grins. “That’s good to know. I feel like we’ve both been lucky to work with him, even if I’m still a little starstruck.”

“That’s what Daniel Craig does to you, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, your laughter light as you pointed at the camera, winking playfully. Drew’s amused chuckle followed, a soft sound that matched the warmth in your tone. The atmosphere of the interview had shifted, the playful banter between the two of you creating an easy camaraderie as the conversation drew to a close.

“Well, I think we’ve discovered we have a lot in common after all,” Drew said, his smile widening as he turned toward you. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and genuine appreciation. “This has been a great pairing, truly.”

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the connection between the two of you almost palpable. “I think so too,” you responded, your voice light and sincere, a soft chuckle escaping you as your gaze lingered on him. “Very great pairing,” you added, your words more than just agreement—there was an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect that hung in the air.

Drew’s smile widened slightly at your reply, the chemistry between the two of you becoming more evident as the final moments of the interview came into focus. Despite the cameras and the public personas, there was something undeniably real in the exchange, something that hinted at more than just a professional connection.

[cece693]

May I pretty please request Hannigram with an SO that really likes biting things? Like they’ll just nibble on anything available, including themself or Hanni/Will

male reader if possible :)

Bite Me, Darling

pairing: hannibal lecter and will graham x male reader tags: self soothing mechanism, male reader bites things, Alana bashing, jack Crawford bashing, just everyone in general is against this relationship, innocent male reader, hannibal and will want to keep him this way

It was strange, how everything about him was normal on the surface but wildly unique beneath. The way he moved through life, unaware of the way people stared, was something that only a few people truly understood. Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, for all their intelligence and their capacity for manipulation, had each found something in him—something pure and raw—that spoke to them in ways they couldn’t articulate.

You were innocent in the most innocent way. You didn’t know how to read people’s intentions, how to navigate the murky waters of deceit and pain that others swam in. You were a creature of quiet habits: chewing on pens, biting the corner of your sleeves, even nibbling your fingers. It wasn’t that you was anxious, but rather that this was your way of processing the world. You didn’t speak much, but when you did, it was with a tenderness that could disarm even the most hardened individuals.

For some, this made you seem almost too innocent for the likes of Will and Hannibal. They were two men who dealt with darkness constantly, who played in shadows. Hannibal, the brilliant psychiatrist with an appetite for blood, had found himself intrigued long before anything happened between them. How did such a pure soul even come to be? How was it that someone as complex as Hannibal could be pulled into a world where biting things wasn’t just a habit—it was part of who you were?

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Hannibal was nothing if not a man who craved complexity, and you, with your simple yet peculiar habit of biting, had an allure that he could never fully comprehend. He wasn’t sure when the lines had blurred, when you had shifted from being someone he wanted to understand to someone he wanted to possess.

Will, on the other hand, was less of a mystery. He found your unspoken understanding of him soothing. Will was not a man who found comfort easily. He’d had too many years of running from his own mind, of balancing between the need for human connection and the heavy weight of his empathic gifts. But you were different. You never demanded anything from him. There was no need to over explain; no fear of rejection. You were there, and that was enough.

The three of them had fallen into a relationship that no one, especially not Alana Bloom or Jack Crawford, could understand. Jack, upset that you had a greater control over his 'asset' perceived you as a problem that needed to be extinguished immediately. While he couldn't force Will to break up with you, he began to use manipulative language more frequently, hinting that his absence was endangering the lives of people. But after a while, his words began to lose power.

"Will, you can’t just leave because he told you to," Jack would say, his voice thick with frustration. "We need you to solve this case. You're part of this team." But Will, unmoved, always told him he was tired and needed a break—as if killers would respect that and stop murdering until he felt better. Jack would then begin to retort how soft Will was becoming, as if that ever mattered when others perceived him as a madman.

Alana, on the other hand, was driven by something more personal. Jealousy. She had been drawn to both Hannibal and Will. Her feelings for them had never been simple or easy, but she had always harbored a belief that somehow, one day, they would choose her. Instead, they had chosen you. The idea of you, with your gentle biting habit, managing to capture the attention of both men—of all people—was enough to make her skin crawl with resentment. How could someone so abnormal and clearly dealing with childhood trauma have the audacity to step into their world and steal both her love interests?

She couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t deserve them. You weren't like her—you didn’t understand the complexities of their lives nor seemed to be able to handle the hurdles that came with it. And so, she set to work.

It started subtly. A conversation here, a comment there.

“Don’t you ever feel like you’re a little strange?” she would ask, voice light, as if it were a passing thought. “I mean, the biting…it's something you can't help, but don't you ever want to stop it? Be seen as normal for once in your life?"

At first, you had laughed it off, thinking nothing of it. But over time, the seeds of doubt were planted. You began to wonder. Was your habit of biting things wrong? Your lovers had never raised concerns, but it would be something they'll definitely keep private, perhaps a secret only shared between Hannibal and Will. You never thought that Alana's words were connived to break your relationship apart, your naivety something the woman had taken into account and used to her advantage.

So, you tried to stop.

You started small: you tucked your hands into your sleeves when your instincts told you to gnaw at the fabric, and you opted for straws instead of biting the rim of a glass cup. You made an effort—any effort—to keep your teeth away from Will and Hannibal’s skin, no matter how comforting that gentle pressure felt against them. At first, neither man noticed; after all, it was easy to dismiss as a passing mood or an unremarkable change in routine.

But after a couple of days, small signs alerted both of them to the shift. Will began to see you catch yourself mid-motion, your hand halfway to your mouth before you stopped and pressed it flat against your chest instead. Hannibal noticed the anxious flicker in your eyes whenever you realized you were about to bite down on your sleeve—or worse, on him—and yanked yourself away.

It was Will who first chose to address it. One evening, you were curled up in his living room, dogs scattered around you like living blankets. The space was quiet, the only sound the gentle snoring of a dog and the low hum of the overhead light. You were running your thumb over your bottom lip—an almost-bite—when Will finally spoke.

“Hey,” he said softly, “what’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He studied you with those empathetic eyes of his. You knew he was reading more into your silence, but Will was nothing if not patient. “You’ve been distant,” he finally ventured, words slow and careful. “I don’t mind if you need space, but if something’s bothering you, I want to help.”

The sincerity in his voice tore at your heart. You wanted to confide in him, to say Alana made me feel wrong, and I don’t want to be wrong for you, but the fear of seeming weak or needy held you back. You simply shook your head and offered a reassuring pat to one of the dogs resting on your lap. “I’m fine,” you lied, hoping he wouldn’t push. “Just tired.”

Hannibal discovered your change in behavior under more intimate circumstances. The two of you were alone in his kitchen, the scent of simmering stock filling the air. He had taken your hand to guide you closer to the cutting board, demonstrating a particular technique for slicing vegetables. Normally, a casual closeness like this was an invitation for you to lean in, maybe press your teeth gently against the back of his hand or the curve of his arm—just enough to ground yourself in his presence. This time, you didn't lean in nor brought his hand to your lips.

Hannibal stilled, eyebrows lifting in polite surprise. “Darling,” he asked softly, “what’s wrong?”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. You swallowed hard. “Just didn’t want to hurt you,” you offered lamely, though you both knew you had never caused him pain before. His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but he released your hand without comment. You wondered if your face betrayed the unease you felt, because Hannibal’s expression shifted into something gentler, concerned. But he chose not to press you then and there. Instead, he simply carried on, instructing you gently with the knife work and occasionally brushing a reassuring hand across your back.

Though both men tried to give you space, their combined worry spilled over as time went on. Neither was used to seeing you so guarded, especially around them. On a chilly afternoon, the three of you gathered in Hannibal’s study—a routine that had become something of a tradition. Will sipped his whiskey quietly while Hannibal and you browsed through his impressive collection of classical music. There was a soothing air of comfort, and for a brief moment, your doubts dimmed.

But of course, it was Will who noticed your jaw moving—saw the slight shift as your teeth worked the soft flesh inside your cheek. He placed his whiskey glass down on the table with a muted clink before pushing himself out of the chair.

“Stop,” he murmured, crossing the room with purpose. His voice was gentle but firm as he stepped close to you. Without hesitating, he brought his hand to your chin, his touch warm yet insistent. “Open your mouth.”

You stiffened, instinctively pulling away. You shook your head, trying to avert your gaze from Will’s intense blue eyes. You didn’t want to show him. You didn’t want him to see the damage you’d done to keep from biting them instead.

But then, Hannibal appeared at Will’s side, his presence commanding. He didn’t say a word, but the look he gave you—equal parts concern and disappointment—made your shoulders slump in silent surrender. Unable to deny the weight of their worry, you parted your lips, letting Will tilt your chin just enough so both he and Hannibal could peer inside.

A faint gasp escaped Will as he saw the small puncture in your cheek, the fresh bead of crimson welling against your lower molars. Hannibal’s lips flattened into a thin line, and a flicker of displeasure darkened his gaze. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small wound, but it spoke volumes to them—volumes about how you had been coping alone.

Hannibal’s voice was low, edged with concern. “You’ve been hurting yourself to avoid biting us.” It wasn’t a question; it was a quiet statement of fact.

Will let go of your chin carefully. “Why?” he asked, his brows knitting together.

You swallowed thickly, your hand hovering near your mouth in a subconscious attempt to hide the injury you’d just revealed. “Alana said it’s weird. The biting,” you whispered, your voice unsteady. “I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

A stretch of silence followed your confession, Hannibal and Will exchanged a look—a silent conversation filled with understanding and mild anger toward Alana’s interference. Will’s gaze softened as he turned back to you. “We told you before,” he reminded you gently, “you don’t have to hide this from us. You’re not hurting us—”

“—nor inconveniencing us,” Hannibal interrupted, stepping closer again. The resolute calm in his eyes steadied you. “In fact, we’ve grown quite accustomed to it, and dare I say, fond of it. Your habit is part of who you are.”

You glanced down, feeling the sting of tears threatening in your eyes. “I just…I didn’t want you to get sick of me, or to think I was some sort of burden.”

Will’s hand found yours, his fingers threading through with a gentle squeeze. “That’s not possible,” he murmured. “We miss it…miss you being comfortable around us.”

Hannibal placed a hand against your cheek, being mindful of your tender injury. “You never need to hurt yourself on our behalf,” he said, voice quiet but unyielding. “Any pain you feel—physical or otherwise—we’d much rather help you carry it, not watch you bury it inside.”

At those words, a sharp wave of relief pulsed through you, along with an ache of regret for having doubted them. You inhaled shakily, letting yourself lean just a fraction closer to Hannibal’s touch, feeling the stability it offered. Will eased his other hand around your waist, tugging you gently in his direction. Sandwiched between them, you could almost believe nothing else mattered.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. “I…I’ll try not to hide it anymore.”

Will’s lips quirked into a small, comforting smile. “No more chewing on your cheek,” he said, voice warm with affection. “You’ll let us help, right?”

With a hesitant nod, you felt Hannibal’s hand slide from your cheek to the back of your head, urging you closer until your forehead rested against his shoulder. He cast a glance at Will, who leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Despite the swirl of emotions, you felt a gentle calm in their presence—a sense of being anchored.

[wonryllis]

soft dom!hee with shy!reader maybe? doesn’t have to be virgin reader necessarily, love all ur fics btw

® ❛ WHY ARE YOU SO SHY BABY? IT'S JUST ME.

FEATURING. lee heeseung & fem!r GENRE. smut! they are friends exploring dangerous territory omgg, softdom?heeseung & shy!r WDCT. 970 WARNINGS. SMUT PG18 ofc, bare grinding? humping? yeah. ( D𝒾RECTORY? )

NIE.NOTES ╱ wrote smut after a while, hope y'all like it ㅠㅠ tried to make it as softdom as i could idk .. my freaky ass kept going down the degradation route for some reason.

“what if it's me?” heeseung’s voice is hoarse, his steps carefully calculated as he gets closer to you.

“what if it's me who wants to see you like that?” his breath shaky, hands trembling in his soft grip on your waist and heart running a mile a second.

his eyes bore into yours. what if the one who wants to touch you all over, is me? what if the one who gets to see you moan and writhe underneath, is me? what if the one who makes you cum, is me?

and that's how you find yourself on heeseung’s bed, legs spread and head lolling back onto the pillow. back arching prettily in soft whimpers as his fingers tease you over the hello kitty panties.

god i should've worn sexier panties─

“fuck baby, these panties are so hot,” his eyes focus on the way the fabric rubs against you, wet and slick. the innocent hello kitty print soaked─ drenched like you already fell over the edge once. there was something so undeniably erotic about it; heeseung couldn't pin point, but it made him so hard he could barely think straight or feel embarrassed at all.

his thumb glides over the slit in lewd squelches, groaning at the way you seem to squirm at every slide.

“you're so sensitive─ so responsive. if i knew you were like this earlier i’d have touched you sooner,” heeseung grunts at just the possibility of having you under him this exact way, any more than once. oh how much he regrets not grabbing this chance any sooner, like how was he even going on with his life as just a friend when he could have had this?

your hands reach up to cover your face at his words. utterly embarrassed at the kind of things leaving his mouth, your hot friend vocalizing his hot thoughts about you: it made your skin burn with fervour. craving more but feeling bashful admitting it, especially to your friend.

“don't hide your pretty face baby,” his touch grips daint at your wrists and pries off your hands, holding them down by the side of your head. staring at each and every inch of your flushed face before he sits up to unbutton his jeans.

pulling his cock out of his boxers and jerking it off in a couple of slow strokes. wiping at the tip and smearing the precum across the entire length. his eyes lock with yours as he squeezes around the head once, hissing with pleasure at the way you seem to be so entranced at the sight of him. eyes wide and lips parted while you watch, hauling your body up to rest against your elbows on the bed;

so eager, so needy. the sexual undertones in your gaze gleaming right out despite the nervous and abashed front.

he grabs at your thighs softly, tugging you flush against him, his cock twitching over your damp panty clad pussy. one finger hooking at the side to hold it up just until he shoves his cock in, sandwiched between the wet cloth and your gushing folds.

“fuck,” heeseung chokes on air at the feel of you against him, no barriers, entirely pressed bare right into your most intimate and sensitive part─ it's heavenly. the moan you let out when he thrusts, almost breaks through his self restraint,”just─ let's just try this first─ fuck you feel so good baby,” his voice wavering and breath stuck in his throat.

he paws at your breasts, fondling one as he keeps grinding and thrusting. his eyes dropping to close with the immense amount of pleasure coursing through his veins, but the sight of you under him: clutching the sheets and bucking your hips to chase the high─ he doesn't want to miss even a second of it.

“hee─ it feels so─” moan.

“i know baby, i know,” his fingers brush back the hair sticking to your cheeks, hunching over your body to graze his lips against yours. mouth falling open as he mimics your expressions; albeit out of pure bliss of watching you feel good. of knowing that he's the one making you feel good. so good that you have forgotten all about how shy you were about the whole idea.

the slippery sensation of your panties soaked with precum against the tip and the slick burning heat of your pussy rubbing against the underside of his cock paired with your raw and lewd expressions is too much to bear. the sounds you let out going straight to his balls. tightening up with each little gasp and whine that falls off your pretty lips.

“i'm so─ ngh─” your words die down into a soft whimper, sucking your lower lip in between your teeth in an attempt to suppress the loud moan bubbling at the back of your throat. heeseung barely holds himself back from cumming at the sight.

“fuck me too baby,” he hurriedly grabs your waist, hands squeezing and holding you tight before his thrusts speed up. sliding sloppily, his tip hitting right against your clit each time.

shit shit shit. heeseung feels you pulse against his cock as you tumble off the edge, cumming in whiny chants of his name, your back arching off the bed again. fuck she's so hot. his own orgasm being pulled out of him like a wave of lighting, cum spurting out in jets onto your clit.

it's dizzing. his cock twitching as he watches your eyes roll back and your body slump onto the mattress. chest heaving for breath, skin glistening with sweat and eyes glazed over.

it's gonna be engraved in his mind. it's a done deal. he's never gonna see you normally again. not after knowing how you look.. when you are like─ this.

“see─ it wasn't so bad, was it?”

NSFW taglist 。open! @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

[letthewordsoverflow]

So I saw Anora two days ago and can't get this epilogue out of my head so just imagine this, directly following the end of the movie....

So Igor holds Anora in the car until she stops crying

then finally she gets up and then gets out of the car with a flippant joke about him zipping his dick back in "pervert"

then she takes a few steps back towards the house and then turns back and goes "well? Are you coming?"

So he goes from scrambling to zip up his pants to scrambling out of the car and following her inside

and then they go into the living room and her sister is there w her boyfriend sitting on the couch and shes just like "hey there's some lasagna in the kitchen"

so he follows anora into the kitchen (he'd follow her anywhere) and they get lasagna and they go to join her sister and her bf in the living room to watch the movie and they're cuddled on one side of the 3 seater and anora sits against the other arms so there's space in between but it'd be tight so he sits in the arm chair next to the couch

and they eat their food and are watching and he's super aware of her but definitely NOT looking at her (okay but only from the corner of his eye and she DEFINITELY cannot tell)

at some point she lets out a frustrated sigh and stands up and comes to sit in his lap and cuddles into him

eventually she falls asleep there, with her head curled under his chin, and she stays like that for a long time

he considers asking her sister for a throw blanket but then they get up and go into one of the two bedrooms down the hall

He waits a while longer, just holding her. Shes safe. And she's in his arms.

If you had asked him what he expected from being 30 three days ago, it definitely would not be this. But this, this is so much better.

He stands up and takes her to her room and sets her down in her bed and he moves her hair out of her face and just gazes at her for a second

He moves to leave but she groggily reaches out her arm and says "stay"

so he kicks off his shoes, climbs into bed, and just holds her while they sleep.

and she actually sleeps through the night instead of getting up to work (at some point he woke up to piss and he gently pushed her to ask and she was not pleased about the disruption because she "needs some fuckin rest after the last 48hours")

they wake up the next day at like noon (early for her, late for him)

So they wake up and just look at each other for a moment and then he asks "may I kiss you?" And she says "but I have morning breath" and he says "may I kiss you?" And she says "you have morning breath" and he says "may I kiss you?" And she nods, not breaking eye contact but clearly a little bashful at the vulnerability

and theyre kissing and then they're making out and at some point he pulls away and moves to just hold her and shes like "do you...not want to?"

And he goes "I want to, we just don't have to. I'm happy like this." and he cuddles her closer

and she smiles to herself and hides he face into his chest for a moment

but then she moves to straddle him and goes "what if I want to?" And he goes "whatever you want" in the tone that says 'you can have whatever you want and we never have to do anything you don't want' and seeing the sentiment echoed in his eyes has her kissing him with all she's worth (which a lot in his estimation)

and then theyre getting all hot and heavy and she takes off his shirt and moves to take off his pants

when she realizes he's still wearing his jeans so of course she gives him shit for that (but he wasn't going to climb into her bed in his underwear without her go ahead so he just takes her teasing)

and they laugh together as they keep making out and shedding clothes and then she moves to touch him (like she did in the car, but this time it was about him)

He stops her and he asks if he can do something

and she says sure

so he flips them so she's on her back (she knew he was strong, he threw her around a whole bunch not two days ago, but it was different to have him move her like that....it did it for her honestly)

he moves to go eat her out and she starts to stammer that he doesn't need to do that and he says "what if I want to"

like she said before

and then he goes at it for a nice long time

And he makes her cum

like HARD

and so shes like "I finished," meaning to say 'okay cool now im taken care of so over to fucking so you can get off' (that's just how sex works, right) and hes like "who said i am?"

And then keeps at it, making her orgasm a few more times before he even lets her touch his dick

(she can't even recall the last time a guy she was with got her off)

so she's like on cloud nine when she's finally like "stop stop"

he pulls back IMMEDIATELY and asks if she's okay and if he did something wrong

she says no, she's just over sensitive and then next time she cums she would really like if he was inside her

so then he smiles and moves up her body, kissing her along the way, to get into position

and he kisses her (she loves the taste of herself on him) and then asks if she has a condom

she says she does "but....also....we don't need to use one of you don't want to"

hes very confused

so she gets nervous and starts to ramble about how she always ALWAYS uses protection w clients and she gets tested all the time and knows shes clean (to which he says "me too") and she has an iud but its also totally cool if he wants one because she has been w a lot of partners (bc she assumes he doesn't bc of a judgement for her profession)

meanwhile hes just confused bc it didnt even ocurr to him she may want that

so he asks what she wants and she says no condom (which is kinda the biggest display of trust and intimacy she has bc she is METICULOUS about protection) (even w Ivan who, she was seeing exclusively for what is a long time in her book, she always made him use a condom)

so then they have sex

and he hits a smooth slow wave of a rhythm that really works for her

and he uses one hand to support himself over her and his other to rub her clit

and he just keeps looking at her

and the eye contact and the intimacy are too much and she cums

She cums a lot

and only then does he finally start to lose his rhythm until he's moaning into her neck as he cums

And then he rolls off her and she must be the sappiest bitch in Brooklyn because she misses having him inside her

And then he is just lying next to her breathing heavily for a moment before he quickly gets up and puts on his pants and walks out

and she feels like she must have whiplash bc they were just so intimate (more intimate than she's been with a guy in.... god she doesn't want to think of how long it's been like this)

and he's just gone

like every other guy

maybe this was all just a good fuck to him

Maybe he saw the opportunity to fuck the sex worker, knew it'd be a good time, and now he was done

she's working herself up, even though a whispering voice in the back of her mind kept saying he couldn't have gone far without shoes....or a shirt....or his phone and car keya....

by the time he comes back and shes convinced herself that he was using her and she shouldn't have let him in or trusted him or slept in his arms all night

So she starts to yell at him, which she certainly has a talent for

At first he's confused but he slowly approaches her and sits on the edge of the bed

and he looks down at his hand and then at her, asking for permission

and only then she realizes he came back with a glass of water and a warm damp towel - to clean her up, she realizes as he gently and methodically starts to clean her thighs

she sips at the cool water he handed her as she watches him slowly tend to her

then he sets the towel and glass down (after taking a sip himself... somehow his swallow was a turn on? What is happening to her?)

and he takes is jeans back off and climbs back into the bed and pulls the covers up over them and pulls her to his chest until they both fall back to asleep.

Later he drives her to work at the strip club, kisses her goodbye, and says he'll pick her up later.

As he watches her walk into HQ he can't help but think how much his grandmother is going to love her.

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[moonstruckme]

Love love love the roommate james series! Thank you <3

Me too lovely! Thank YOU <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Lightning strikes outside the window just before your laughter reaches James. He perks up, an electric current skittering down into his fingertips. He’s glad no one’s around to witness the way he swivels around on the couch to look out the window, searching for the source of the sound. 

Your key is in the lock a moment later. “Are you sure you don’t want me to run up and grab my umbrella?” you ask someone outside as you walk in. 

“No, thanks,” a male voice, sounding just as jovial as you do, responds. Without thinking, James stands up. “What’d be the point? I’m already soaked through.” 

“Seems like it’s really coming down out there,” James says, stepping into the doorway. You look over as though you hadn’t realized he was there. You’re sopping wet, hair dripping onto the floor and work clothes clinging to your body in ways James takes care not to notice. The man outside is similarly drenched, looking cold but remarkably happy as he takes shelter under the small awning outside your door. “You alright, mate?” 

“Good,” he replies, looking at James like he’s not sure if this is someone he’s supposed to be able to place. “And yourself?” 

“This is James,” you say, “my roommate. And this is Art, we work together.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Art sticks out a hand, shaking James’ firmly before retracting back out onto your doorstep. “I’d better get home,” he says to you. “See you Friday?” 

“Yeah.” You nod briskly, giving him a small smile as he turns around and goes. James shuts the door after him with a definitive thud. 

“Christ, love, aren’t you cold?” He fights the urge to set his hands on your arms and rub warmth into them. His friends are so touchy, it’s a bit difficult to adjust for someone who isn’t. 

“Yeah,” you admit with another little smile (James likes this one better, though he’s unsure why). Now that you’re standing still, you’re beginning to shiver. “Could you maybe grab me a towel from upstairs? Sorry to ask, I just don’t want to track water in.” 

James is already moving. “Don’t be sorry,” he chides as he climbs the stairs. 

As he looks for where you keep your towels, he can’t stop thinking about the thrilled way you and Art had looked at each other. Your ringing laughter outside the door. He’s happy you feel comfortable enough at your job to laugh and have fun with your coworkers, but he’s a bit hurt that you don’t seem to feel the same sort of ease around him. James has managed to coax a few smiles from you since he moved in, and a decent amount of laughter, too, but more often than not it comes with some resistance. He’ll catch you trying to conceal a grin, cutting your laugh off before it’s really begun. Then you’ll look at him like you’re embarrassed for being caught in a joyous moment. As if they’re something to be bashful about, and not something that lightens James’ heart until it threatens to float off and take him with it. 

He ends up grabbing both the towel and that giant sweatshirt you like, tossing the latter in the dryer on his way back to you. 

“Thanks.” You reach for the towel, but James wraps it around your shoulders himself. 

“Don’t mention it.” He breaks, giving the tops of your arms a couple of good rubs before stepping back and letting you take over. “Do you want something warm to drink?” 

Your eyes light up, but then you purse your lips. “I’m fine, thanks.” 

James gives you a look. 

You must really be in a good mood, because you crack easily. “Fine, a hot cocoa would be night-making,” you admit, grinning at him again. He wouldn’t be surprised if his chest was actually, visibly glowing. “Thanks, James.” 

“So,” he asks, hating himself just a little bit, “why did Art walk you back if neither of you had an umbrella?” He flicks on the kettle. 

“He lives nearby,” you reply. “We actually walk home together fairly often, whenever we’re both working at night.” 

James feels a stab of guilt. Of course, it makes perfect sense that you’d need someone to walk with you when you’re leaving work after dark. He feels stupid and inconsiderate for not thinking of it. 

“That’s nice of him,” he concedes. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of walking you home before. I could always come and get you.” 

A pause. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to. And please don’t be sorry, it’s not your issue to think about.” 

It feels like his issue. He wants to think about it. “Still. I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Yeah, but for Art it’s on his way home. You’d have to go both ways.” 

James doesn’t care. For reasons he doesn’t understand and refuses to reflect upon, he wants to be the one who makes sure you get home safely. That’s got to be a typical roommate responsibility, right? 

“You forget, I have a car,” he says, pouring the hot water into two mugs. He stirs in the cocoa mix. “I could drive both you and Art, if you’d like. Could have saved you a lot of trouble on a night like tonight.” 

“I actually really love the rain.” Your voice sounds clearer, and James turns around to find that evidently you’ve dubbed yourself dry enough to walk around. You’ve squeezed most of the moisture out of your hair, but your lashes are still clumped damply. Your face shines. “We ran because we were worried about our phones, but it was fun.” 

“Well, glad your impending hypothermia was worth it.” He starts to push your mug towards you, then pauses. “Oh, wait just a second.” 

He quickly goes back to the dryer, getting out your warmed sweatshirt and bringing it to you. Your face when you see it makes James wish he had a camera, your eyebrows hooking upward and lips actually parting like he’s brought you a kitten rather than a sweatshirt. You’re truly in rare form tonight. 

“Oh my god, thank you.” You start to position the hole over your head, then hesitate. “Actually, would you—” Your bottom lip goes briefly between your teeth, a flash of that shy girl he’s been seeing less and less of lately. You wrap your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “I should probably take my wet clothes off. Would you mind turning around for a minute?” 

“Oh—yeah, of course.” James does. He covers his eyes for good measure, smiling to himself when he hears your amused little huff from behind him. Then there’s the wet sound of some item of clothing hitting the floor, and his smile fades. He can hear your skin shushing against fabric, your quiet breaths, the tiny sound you make when your clothes stick obstinately to your skin just for a moment before you peel them off. James feels somewhat warmer than he did a minute ago. 

“Okay, you’re good.” 

He turns around, and you’ve already got your hot cocoa in hand. Your sweatshirt hits at mid-thigh, sleeves covering the better parts of your hands that aren’t wrapped covetously around your mug. It takes a great deal of willpower not to look at the clothes piled on the floor and see if your underwear are among them. 

“This is really good,” you say, somewhat awkwardly. You’re looking at James bemusedly, used to him being the one who talks. 

He jumps back into his role. “I don’t know why you sound surprised. It always is, when I make it.” 

James leads the both of you into the living room, plopping down on the couch. You, of course, have the option of going upstairs to your room, but he knows you’ll follow. You sit down carefully, tucking your knees under the hem of your sweatshirt and resting your mug atop them. 

“So,” he says, reaching forward and unsticking a piece of hair from your eyebrow. You fluster but let him, and he smooths it behind your ear, “are you the type of person who likes to stay in and watch films when it’s storming, or do you only enjoy running about in them?” 

You hum into your hot cocoa. “I like a film.” 

“Perfect, then it’s your pick this time.” You start to protest, but James holds firm. “No, you’ve bullied me into picking the last three. It’s time to start pulling your weight around here.” 

It takes you a bit longer to relent, but finally he gets you to admit to a preferred film. As the intro credits are playing, thunder cracks outside, and an excited little shiver has you bringing up your shoulders. A smile, seemingly unconscious, ghosts over your lips. James grins in response. Cute. 

[namilettes]

I loved ur yan!two time headcanons so much oh my days.. I hope it wouldnt be too much trouble if i could also request yan!azure headcanons too, or yan!azuretime x reader hcs (you can choose to just make azure headcanons if you dont know/like to write poly x reader) :D!!

Yan!Azure x reader headcanons

(+ extra yan!Azuretime x reader poly headcanons!!)

Hi anon!!!!! jokes on you I'll give you both!!!

Warnings: yandere content but not romanticized, abuse, manipulation, Azure has a hate relationship with you and doesn't know how to show his love if not with violence, slllight dubcon???

Yandere Azure x reader headcanons

In a way, he has EXTREMELY mixed feelings about you

after the stunt Twotime pulled, he'd already been having super mixed feelings about.. everything really

part of him forgave twotime already- he can remember not fighting back as he loved Twotime oh so much

but another part of him feels betrayed, like he had been sold to some kind of fur market.

When he came across you during a round.. He froze.

His body went through so many different emotions at the same time

hatred

infatuation

Memory.

He wanted to bash your brain in, make sure you never looked in his direction again- your eyes, they remind him so much of the life he used to have- he wants it gone.

another part of him longs to feel something again

after the Spectre took away most of his ability to process like a normal human- not that he really was one anyway, he didn't exactly know what he was. All he knew was that humans didnt have slimy tentacles, glowing eyes and- yeah doesn't really resemble a human besides having four limbs- do tentacles count as limbs?...

longing to feel- anything again.

He takes a long time processing these feeelings, and ''accidentally'' lets you slip out alive each round because ''I'm just merely not sure what this is.'' and uses it as an excuse to analyze himself, and you.

Mostly the reason he feels this way is because whoever, whatever you are; awakened SOME kind of humanity in him, the humanity that got ripped away from him so many times until this was the mess he was left with.

the humanity he swore was normal, turned into an unhealthy obsession as they tried so very hard to grasp more of it, obsession grew into possession.

He felt that maybe- if he got some kind of control over you, then maybe you wouldn't betray him.

wouldn't leave him.

Very much so- of course the Spectre allows this lovely little game of his that ultimately leads to BOTH of your breaking points!

When he finally gets to be around you- his heart rate,, oh how it rises like the once almighty Spawn he looked up to.

his arm reaches forward- but shrinks back in as his mind cowers in fear

his blood is running cold- he wants to hurt you- oh to hear your lovely screams. It's like having control- inflicting pain gives him back the life he had lost.

still- his breath hitches as their hand ultimately reaches back out, his finger brushing against your cheek- he lets out a moan of satisfaction and adrenaline.

his breathing- it becomes radical- the adrenaline flooding his mind- his vision, he breathes out a faint laughter.

''I finally got you.. <3''

He has a rather bipolar mindset around you. He keeps you around because he ultimately needs you

but hurts you because it satisfies him

whenever you cry- he knows just the way to push your buttons and get in your head

As much as you want to leave, overtime he gets exactly what he wants

you.

only you. And the control you give him.

Maybe it's the fact that you're real- maybe he's using you to fill in the void that the false god left after he ultimately came to terms that whatever it was, wasn't real.

now you're his god.

the god that he can hurt and please as he likes.

Mostly he gives you very minimal food- but on some days- some random- some where you behave good, he gives you something you like, maybe even more if you ask nicely

matching stuff matching stuff matching stuff

plucks you flowers and yaps to you about their scientific names and their benefits and poisons

if you complain he'll slice you up with his inhumane strength

''Next time you'll lose more than your epidermis... And here I thought we we're making progress.''

He shuts the door leaving you there to panic and cry

''Until tomorrow, lovely.''

and if you indulge in his interests- he'll still slice you up.

ironic right???

he gets such excitement and happiness from it that he can't process it normally. He just takes out his frustration on you.

The romantic- or the closest to 'romantic' things he does is placing a kiss on your hand at his arrival

if you gain his trust of not escaping to the point he actually kisses or caresses you, its aggressive. like lip bruisingly aggressive.

there are days where he breaks down- crying.

if you have his trust, he'll do it in front of you

he goes through a wide range of emotions- he goes to blaming you for how he feels- to blaming himself and apologizing- frantically kissing you- everywhere; as his tears coat your skin. If you try to fight it away he just grabs you by the hair and forces you to take it

''S-see?! we're happy my dearest.. Y-you even let me touch you.. H-hah!... I'm not a monster!..''

Or just crashes out and starts yelling at you

''I do everything for you and this is how you repay me?! I should've just killed you when I saw you!-''

Sometimes you guys have little dinners while you're tied up. Remember!! one wrong word and its another bruise to your collection!!!

Likes inhaling your scent and whispering odd shit

''My amazing.. pretty little flower..''

Definitely has a thing with corruption, makes you witness horrifying stuff just to comfort you with empty promises, making you believe he's the only one you need.

You're under his palm now.

Yan!Poly!Azuretime x reader where the reader is an old cult member

I love you anon i had a good challenge writing this

I have a feeling this kind of trope would happen with you with twotime having the whole spawn illusion and Azure going through fifty shades of jealousy

I'm mixing my earlier Yan!Twotime + Yan!Azure headcanons into this, this is why i included both in this post ;)))

Early on when you got transported into this purgatory hell, you stumble on Azure and- You guessed it, Twotime!

but things start getting weird overtime

TwoTime will NOT leave you alone, you constantly catch their random spurts of giggles and twitching around you

they cling onto you because you're the last thing they have of their past, the last thing that reminds them of their beloved members- all the people in their life before things went to this. You were once one of them. (no the fuck you werent you dont even know this person)

Brings you random offerings, despite you turning them down multiple times.

but then- you two meet Azure again!

Azure lowkey hates even looking at both of you because it brings back memories for him

But just like in the earlier part, he grows infatuated with both of you, longing for the past where things seemed particularly fine.

that was, before he found out that TWOTIME also had a teensy fatass crush on you.

They often have little fights about you, but ultimately come to the point that as Azure gets you in his hands, Two Time FLIPS OUT and it always just ends up with both of them worshipping you and your entire being.

It's odd because when its you and Azure, he's rather aggressive and distant, but with TwoTime he feels that maybe he finally has a place to be.

Twotime, trailing his touch all over your body often giggles and breathes so heavily that they could qualify for CPR by a medical professional.

''H-haah.. Oh almighty Spawn you're oh so beautiful... Doesn't it feel nice when your followers caress you?..''

even though azure lowkey just looking at them like ''wtf are you yapping about this aint no spawn god :broken_heart:''

but still- he doesn't mind TwoTime's depraved words because in a way he feels like if he breaks the illusion he'll lose the both of you.

lowkey makes stupid excuses to make out with twotime in the middle

''Yo uhhhhuhgfdjhdj the spawn god DEFINITELY told us to show our love for them in this way''

and just starts full on making out with each other infront of you.

but mostly its just them fighting about you.

yeah.

Twotime often brings you offerings and corpses, making those rituals infront of you and always staying by your side.

Azure seems rather hesitant, as if a way to show you ''I'm sorry for their actions.''

If you show too much attention to Azure, even if its literally begging to be let go, Twotime crashes out and forces you to watch as they hurt themselves.

''S-SEE THIS? H-HAHA! I'M BETTER THAN HIM RIGHT? LOOK AT ME- L-L-LOOK AT ME OH ALMIGHTY SPAWN! WATCH AS I SPILL MY BLOOD FOR YOU!''

Azure can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at this thought.

''Oh yes- Dearest Spawn, do look at our lovely TwoTime. Oh how dedicated they are...''

this bitchboy is feeding into his delusions.

This is a very unhealthy love triangle between you three, it's genuinely wearing on you. Overtime you break and become their lovedove.

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 5

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“You want to talk about it?” Her mate asked her flatly and Mor couldn’t help but grimace.

"No," Mor said simply, her tone clipped. She had been hoping to avoid this conversation, but it seemed as though Emerie was not willing to let her off that easily. "There's nothing to talk about."

Her mate just snorted. “Yeah, absolutely nothing,” she said sarcastically. “How about the fact that the male that spend 500 years being in love with you, met his mate 2 years ago and hasn’t said a single thing about it to any member of his family?”

"What do you want me to say, Em?" she asked with a sigh.

At the start…before Nesta had forced her to actually confront what she was feeling…Before she actually thought about the fact, that no…it wasn’t actually funny for Azriel to keep their mate from them…and it also wasn’t normal for him. Of course, Azriel liked his privacy, it was something that he fiercely guarded, but he was also…he wouldn’t have actually hidden away his mate from his family. He would have introduced her, would have invited her to birthdays and Winter Solstice and Starfall…

But he hadn’t. 

He had rather hidden away every trace of that relationship than actually talk to any of them about it. 

“Nesta told me that she laid into you,” Emerie said with a shrug. “You did use Azriel, you know that, Mor.”

Mor's expression hardened at Emerie's words. 

Emerie was right. She had used him. 

Of course, at the time…she had been desperate, afraid of the feelings that she had been having…willing to hide them… but the way she had gone about it hadn’t been…It hadn’t been fair. 

She just didn’t like to reflect on that. 

"It doesn't matter now, Em," she said flatly. "It's in the past."

“Is it?” Emerie asked, sharply. “You never tried to actually talk to Azriel about it. You just expected him to be alright with it. Alright with us,” she continued. “He has never once been anything but polite to me, but quite frankly he would have had every right to be pissed off.”

Mor just so managed not to grimace. 

Not a single word. Not a single gesture. Nothing but politeness and kindness had come from Azriel after her and Emerie’s mating bond had snapped. Nothing. 

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I'm racked with guilt every damn day?" she asked her mate, turning away from from Emerie, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I know that I hurt him, Em. I know that I used him. But what do you want me to do about it now? It's in the past, it's done. I can't change it."

Emerie was silent for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "You can apologize," she said softly. "You can try to mend what you broke. And maybe, just maybe, he'll forgive you."

Mor let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Apologize? For what?" she asked, her voice dripping with self-mockery. "For using him? For making him think he had a chance with me when he never did? For breaking his heart when I knew damn well how he felt about me?"

Emerie's expression hardened again. "Yes," she said firmly. "For all of those things. Because at the end of the day, Mor, you used him. And he deserves better than that."

Mor's shoulders slumped, the fight leaving her all at once. She knew that Emerie was right. She knew that she had been selfish, that she had hurt Azriel in a way that could never be undone. But the thought of facing him, of admitting her mistakes and opening herself up to the pain and rejection that surely awaited her…it was terrifying.

“I imagine he had a few very good reasons to keep Irena a secret from all of us,” Emerie said softly. “Regardless of what feelings he once harboured for you…he was always your friend, Mor. And he kept his mate a secret from you.”

Mor sighed, her shoulders slumped. "I know," she said softly. "I know. I thought it was jsut Az being Az but it’s not, is it?”

Emerie reached out, placing a gentle hand on Mor's arm. "No," she said softly. "It's not. It's him protecting something that he loves. And I don't blame him for that."

***

“Are you hungry?” Azriel asked his mate softly.

Madja had checked on her the evening before…had told her to keep off her leg for a few days and plied her with more potions, bandages the bruises again… given her more sleeping draught. It hasn’t stopped Irena from waking up twice with nightmares.

"No," Irena said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have much of an appetite." She looked pale, her eyes dull and lacking their usual sparkle. It was clear that she hadn't slept well, and his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

Shock had dissipated and left his mate…grieving and sad and Azriel curled himself tighter around her.

He could feel the weight of her sadness and grief, and it broke his heart to see her this way. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close and hoping to offer some comfort and support.

“You need to eat something, love,” he insisted softly. “Whatever you want.” 

He really didn’t care if all she had in her stomach were her favourite cookies, at least that would be something. 

Irena shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I don't want anything," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "Just...just stay here with me."

Azriel's heart tugged at her words, and he pulled her even closer, cradling her against him. "Of course," he whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, love,” he promised her fiercely. “But you still need to eat something,” he whispered. “How about the shadows get you one of those blueberry pastries you like?”

Irena sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Alright," she said softly. "I do love those pastries." She looked up at him, her eyes still dull but a small hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He didn’t even need to order the shadows to do anything, they had one of her favourite blueberry pastries on a plate on the bed side table in a breath. *Please tell me you left the money,* he told them mentally.

The shadows seemed almost indignant. *Of course we left it. Do you think we're thieves?* Azriel smiled at their tone."

"Of course not," he said aloud, reaching for the pastry and offering it to Irena. "You're just very efficient." The shadows swirled around him almost smugly at the praise, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” Irena thanked them softly. The shadows preened.

Azriel chuckled again, watching as the shadows swirled around Irena, as if basking in her gratitude. It was cute how they seemed almost puppy-like in their desire for her attention. 

He was amazed, as always, by how much the shadows adored her.

He had never expected them to warm up to anyone else, especially not as quickly as they had to his mate. 

Suddenly…as soon as he had properly introduced his shadows to her…as soon as it was clear that she wasn’t going to start flinching away from them or from him if they showed up to badger her…as soon as that was clear, they had started to dote on her. Seemingly so pleased that there was another person that wasn’t scared off them. 

The shadows and Irena had formed a bond that defied explanation, and it made Azriel so happy to see the two things he cherished most in the world getting along so well.

(Even if he sometimes got jealous that the shadows never had doted on him like they did on Irena. He got porridge for breakfast but Irena got the ridiculous expensive pastries from the newest high end bakery. Irena got bubble bath, while he only got salt dumped into his bath water and got told that it was good for his muscles.) 

He watched as the shadows swirled around Irena, nuzzling against her like cats seeking affection. Irena laughed softly as they tickled at her ears and played with her hair.

He knew that his shadows were often feared and misunderstood, but with Irena they were playful and affectionate. It was like she had unlocked a whole new side of them, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of them interacting so sweetly with her.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "I never thought I'd see the day when my shadows would be so smitten," he teased, his lips curving into a small smile. "I should be jealous, but I can't help but find it adorable."

Irena laughed, her eyes sparkling for the first time that day. "They're so sweet," she said, reaching up to brush her fingers through the shadows that surrounded her. "It's like they're a different side of you."

Azriel chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I guess they are a part of me, in a way," he said. "And they seem to have a mind of their own, especially when it comes to you." He watched as the shadows nuzzled against her cheek, almost vying for her attention.

"They're quite taken with you," he said with a grin. "I don't blame them. Still, it's strange to see them so affectionate towards someone else." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"But it makes me happy to see them like this," he said softly, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "It's like you're bringing out a side of them that I never knew existed. And it's a beautiful thing to witness." He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead. "Just like you."

There was a knock at the door.

*The High Lord and the Ancient One,* the shadows offered. *And the healer.*

*I’ll deal with them,* Azriel said with a snort.

“Finish your breakfast, alright?“ he told Irena softly as he slid out of the bed. Irena nodded, a small smile on her face. 

"Thank you," she said softly, watching as he got up to answer the door.

“Madja,” he greeted the healer drily. “Irena just had breakfast. The bruises are already lightening,” he reported.

Madja nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Good," she said. "Keep an eye on her for the next couple of days, make sure she takes it easy. The leg needs to heal properly." He opened the door further, letting Madja slip in, and could just hear, "How are you feeling, my dear?" From Madja and Irena’s soft answer.

Which meant that Azriel turned towards his brother. “What do you want?” He demanded from Rhys, his voice sharp. 

Rhys held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down, Az," he said, his voice low. "I just wanted to check on Irena. Amren looked at the spellbook that Merrill was using,” Rhys explained.

“And?” Azriel asked flatly.

Did it actually matter? Merrill had been stupid and arrogant and a thousand other things. The spell didn’t seem to have done anything to Irena…her injuries had been thanks to the debris that had resulted in the spell going absolutely haywire, killing Merrill and seemingly exploding her office. 

“It was written in a language I do not know, but the best match is ancient Illyrian,” Amren gave back drily. 

Azriel's expression darkened at Amren's words. "Ancient Illyrian?" he repeated, his mind racing. "That can't be good."

Not at all. He didn’t even want to think about what his ancestors had come up with. 

"It seems to be a very old dialect," Rhys explained. "One that hasn't been spoken or written in centuries. It'll take some time to decipher it, but we're working on…”

“It seems to be a healing spell. Probably used in childbirth,” Amren cut him off. “When it didn’t find a pregnant female to latch onto, it redoubled back onto Merrill.”

"So Merrill's own spell backfired on her," Azriel mused. "And Irena got caught in the crossfire." He rubbed a hand over his face. “Has the spell done anything to Irena?” He demanded.

“Madja didn’t think so,” Rhys said carefully. “I wanted to check on Irena if that’s alright with you.”

He crossed his arms, not willing to entertain that even for a moment. 

“No,” he said flatly. 

“Let him in, Azriel,” his mate said softly, and he turned towards her, staring at Irena. 

The shadows were already dragging a fur around her shoulders, fluffing the pillows behind her, as Madja bandaged her leg.

Irena met his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He didn’t want Rhys anywhere near her, Azriel was certain of that. And still…an still…

“Fine,” Azriel growled, stepping aside to let Rhys through. "Don't overstay your welcome," he warned Rhys. 

Rhys nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips at Azriel's protectiveness. He clapped a hand on Azriel's shoulder reassuringly. "I won't stay long," he reassured his brother. "I just want to make sure she's alright."

Amren rolled her eyes, but for once didn’t say another word as Azriel closed the door. 

“High Lord,” Irena greeted Rhys, every inch the perfect lady even while she was laid up in her bed.

Rhys inclined his head, smiling gently at Irena, while Azriel already crossed the room to sit at her bedside, taking her hand in both of his. She reassuringly squeezed it. 

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked her. 

Irena gave him a small smile, shrugging her shoulders a little. "I've been better," she admitted. "But I'm healing, I suppose." She gestured to the leg, Madja was bandaging once again.  "Madja says I'll be good as new in a few days. And I’ve had worse,” she added flatly.

Rhys chuckled softly, his eyes softening with concern. "I don't doubt it," he said. "But still, it must have been quite a harrowing experience." He paused for a moment, looking at her intently. "I wanted to speak to you about what happened," he said gently. "If you feel up to it, of course."

Irena nodded, steeling herself for whatever questions Rhys might have. "Go ahead," she said quietly.

"I just wanted to ask you about what you saw when the spell hit you," Rhys said carefully. "Do you remember anything after the initial blast? Could you show me?”

“No.” Azriel snapped. “You are not going read her mind, Rhysand.” Not in a million years. 

He nearly bared his teeth at his High Lord in annoyance, already regretting letting him into their room. 

Irena was healing.

Rhys held up his hands in surrender, his eyes flickering to Azriel for a moment. "I wasn't going to do anything without her permission,  brother," he assured him calmly.

“It’s alright,” Irena agreed with him. “It’s fine, Azriel,” she assured him softly.  Azriel tensed for a moment, torn between wanting to protect her and respecting her wishes. "I want to do this." She turned her attention back to Rhys. "Go ahead."

Rhys nodded, his expression serious. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low. "It might be difficult to recall the memories, but I need you to try."

Irena just inclined her head. "I'm sure," she said firmly. "Just...just go ahead."

Azriel watched, holding her hand tightly. Rhys was well trained at using his daemati abilities, but that didn’t mean that��

A moment later a soft shudder run through his mate, and Azriel growled. 

“Thank you, Irena,” Rhys said quickly, clearly already withdrawing from her mind.

“What kind of spell was it?” Itena asked her voice hoarse. 

Rhys sighed, "The spellbook was written in some kin of ancient language, we think some dialect of Illyrian. The spell itself was healing spell, probably used for childbirth," he explained. "The magic was searching for a pregnant female to latch onto, but when it couldn’t find one, it became more volatile," he said, his expression grave. "And that's when it found you, Irena. It was a complete accident, but the effects were still devastating."

“Did it do…anything to me?” Irena asked Madja quietly.

Madja looked up from the bandages she was applying to Irena's leg, her expression softening as she took in Irena's worried expression.

Madja studied her for a moment, her eyes flickering over the various scrapes and bruises on Irena's body. "Not as far as I can tell,” Madja said finally. "You're healing nicely, and there are no lasting effects to your body that I can see.”

It was something. It was reassuring to know that her physical injuries were being healed, and that there were no lasting effects.

Azriel squeezed Irena's hand, relief flooding through him at Madja's words. 

It was good. Some form of healing being found…

And the last thing Azriel had expected, where Irena’s next words, as she addressed Rhysand. 

“I’ll hand over my duties to Madja, as soon as I can,” Irena said softly. “I am aware that after what happened I am no longer suitable to make any more research involved decisions. I take full responsibility for what happened.“

Her voice was even, measured. Calm. 

Even when he could see the storm in her eyes…even when he could see…

She loved her job. He knew that she loved her job. She adored it in fact. And she excelled in it too. Irena seeme to be made for her job in the House of Wind. And to hear her contemplating giving it all up, just because of an accident that hadn’t been her fault at all…

Azriel opened his mouth to protest but Rhys spoke before he could say anything. "That won't be necessary," Rhys said firmly. "Irena, what happened was a complete accident. You had no control over what happened, and we all know that." He shook his head, his expression serious. "You can't blame yourself for what happened."

Rhys leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent on Irena. "If anyone is to blame, it's Merrill," he said softly. "She was the one who was messing with magic beyond her understanding, she didn’t follow your orders and she was the one who unleashed that spell. You were just an innocent bystander in all of this."

He paused, looking between Azriel and Irena, his expression softening. "We will need to take precautions going forward, so nothing like that can ever happen again." he said carefully. "But we can figure that out together. And you do not need to give up your duties, Irena. We need you."

Irena looked down at the blankets in her lap, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread. "But what if something like this does happen again?" she asked softly.

Rhys shook his head, his expression firm. "It won't," he said, his voice filled with conviction. “None of what happened was your fault,” Rhys repeated firmly.

Azriel nodded in agreement, his grip on Irena's hand tightening. "He's right," he said gruffly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, love. This is on Merrill, not on you. "

“And you can’t quit because otherwise we’ll all drown under paperwork. Well, more than we already do,” Rhys said with a sigh.

Irena chuckled softly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Well, I suppose I can't let that happen," she said wryly. "I can’t let the high Lord deal with even more paperwork, can I?“ she said drily.

Rhys moved to stand but then he suddenly froze. “You have been doing this on purpose,” he suddenly said, staring at her.

“Doing what?” Irena asked, cocking the head to the side. “Make sure that the library generates plenty of paperwork that needs the High Lord’s personal attention?”Rhys stared at her for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and awe. 

"You really are quite devious, aren’t you?" he said with a small laugh. "I never would have thought you’d be using your job specifically to ensure that I spend even more time doing paperwork."

“I don’t.” Irena said flatly. “It was petty revenge.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "Petty revenge?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What on earth did I do to deserve such punishment?"

Irena just stared at him for a moment. “Maybe you should think a bout how you have been treating my mate.”

What? 

Azriel had had no clue that…

Azriel hadn’t known about that. Hadn’t had the faintest inkling. 

Irena had been making sure that Rhys had more paperwork to go through?!

Rhys looked at him for a moment before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. "I suppose I deserved that one," he admitted. 

Azriel just grunted, his expression flat. "You deserved a lot more than that," he muttered. But there was no real anger in his voice. He was too tired for anger at Rhys. All he cared about right now was Irena. 

“You really are a perfect match,” Rhys said with some amusement. “And I do owe Azriel an apology,” he said simply. "I’ve been harsh on you, Azriel. And I haven’t been fair. I’ve been treating you like a tool, instead of like a brother, and I owe you an apology for that.”

Azriel was taken aback by Rhys's words. He had grown used to the way Rhys treated him - as a weapon first, and a brother second. Hearing Rhys acknowledge his mistakes was…certainly unexpected, and it left him feeling a little off-balance.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to respond. Finally he looked up at Rhys, his expression serious. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I appreciate the apology."

Rhys nodded, his expression sincere. "I mean it," he said quietly. "I'll do better moving forward."

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ Free Fall

Katsuki secretly likes your neck kisses, but avoids them. Until he doesn't.

bakugou katsuki/f!reader (in a relationship) ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 1.2k words ⋆⭒˚.⋆ AO3 LINK

contains: fluff, mild smut, intimacy

a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff. pure fluff! it derailed...

It’s your butterfly kisses on his neck that undo him. That soft, barely there press of your lips against his pulse, setting his whole face on fire and making his stomach somersault into the stratosphere.

Katsuki wants more of them, but his knee-jerk reaction never works in his favor. If he sits, he jumps up. If he stands, he takes one long step backward. An excuse always tumbles out of his mouth, sometimes stammered, sometimes bitten out. It’s too embarrassing. Too dizzying.

He’s down bad for you, but the free-fall sensation those maddening lips of yours push him into scares him. They have his control evaporate, and he hates it.

He can’t stand how he softens, how he melts into a puddle of adoration. While kisses with you are moments escalated into the hot and heavy, open-mouthed and messy, it’s in the lazy, deliberate tracing of his skin that your love burns with worship.

Fuck knows Katsuki goes crazy over having your attention. You never looked at him like he isn’t your world, not even when he’s in a foul mood and snaps like it’s you who personally offended him, but when you kiss his neck like that, he feels like he’s the very center of your universe. The reason for your existence. The one thing keeping you from exploding into stardust.

He wants to let go. To stop chickening out of this raw vulnerability. To see how far you’ll take him and who the hell he is by the time you’re done with him.

It happens one night, when he comes home bashed and completely done with the outside world after a hostage situation gone wrong.

You welcome him like usual, throwing yourself against him, arms tight around his waist, face buried in his chest, muttering, “Missed you.”

Katsuki can’t bring himself to say a thing; his voice isn’t there. But his body reacts, loosely wrapping his arms around your form that must be exhausted too, planting his cheek atop your hair. It’s late. Really fucking late and you waited up for him.

Minutes drain before your tired eyes find his. Silent understanding passes between you both, and you grasp his hand, leading him into the living room. He drops like a dead weight on the couch, head thrown back on the backrest, and impassively stares at the ceiling.

He doesn’t move as you remove his hero gear, already an expert at what and how to unclip, carefully piling it up next to the couch. Once his boots are gone, you straddle his legs and work on the compression shirt, slowly pulling it out of the waistband of his pants.

“Arms up,” you say quietly, and he obliges.

It’s when your hands pop the button on his pants he catches your wrist and raises his head. Katsuki doesn’t know what it is about your care today, but the need breaks through the numbness he feels.

“Wanna have you.” His voice sounds rough, like he hadn’t drunk a drop of water in ages. “I really need you right now.”

Your easy smile gets his heart rate up, lights him up from the inside. One of the endless reasons he fell for you so hopelessly. You bring yourself closer to him as your soft hands press on his cheeks. You kiss him. Slow. Careful. Delicate. As if he’s the fragile one.

For once, Katsuki doesn’t mind it.

This one time, he won’t fight to change your pace and accept it instead. Match it.

The experience is new, and a part of him swells with pride because he heard people talk about how the longer a relationship is, the more mundane it becomes. Something about the spark dying. But with you, it’s a constant change. The so-called old has no shot at becoming stale.

He’s lucky, he thinks as you stand up to drop your pajama shorts and the dim light overhead catches in the desire teasing him from the depths of your pretty eyes.

He’s embarrassingly ready when your legs sink in the cushions, your fingers wrapping around his hard dick and positioning it.

And he feels the prickle of guilt the second you ease down, inch by inch, welcoming him into a different kind of home. Where his mind shuts up and all that’s left is the rapid pounding of his heart and you, the high he can’t get enough of.

You’re wet, but not in the way he likes. More for yourself than him, he likes you dripping, sensitive from already coming on his fingers and tongue.

“Go slow,” he mutters, his hands, slightly clammy, grabbing at your hips.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him, his unspoken message hidden between the lines read and understood. And he can’t stop the low groan as his head falls back.

“Gonna make it up to you in the morning. Promise.”

Planting your hands on his chest, you roll your hips against him, sighing like this was what you’ve been waiting for the entire day, and Katsuki feels the light shudder rushing through your body. The blood in his veins ignites, and it’s only natural that he thrusts up, though he makes a conscious effort to keep it shallow. Even as you reward him with the first moan of his name.

You decide, all on your own, how you give it to him tonight. How you love him in the way only you can.

He’s too drained.

And because he’s in this state, Katsuki doesn’t realize when he demands, in between sharp huffs, “Do that thing.”

“What—” A breathy moan pauses your question. “—thing?”

Feverish heat crawls up his neck, twists his insides and he feels like he’s about to die from it, but fuck, he needs the free fall. Tilting his head, he grabs you by the nape and pushes your face against his wild pulse. The anticipation makes him highly aware of your hot, hurried breaths, so similar to the ghosting of your lips he runs away from. Of your heart, racing for and because of him. Of your scent, smelling like home. Of how perfectly you fit around him, tight and completely his.

You hum, confused, and he groans, frustrated.

He’s one second from snapping at you when your mouth skims under his ear. Lower. Closer and closer.

“This thing?” you speak against his pulse, kissing it softly.

He bites his lip, grunting out, “Yeah.”

The air is suddenly too dense as your butterfly kisses enter the heated space, the overwhelming sensation shooting straight to his brain. Katsuki loses his breath, loses control, and every single fuck he gave before about it.

He’s falling before he knows what the hell is going on, but damn him if he’s not dragging you down with him.

“Keep goin’,” he pants, rough fingers gravitating blindly to your pussy as he screws his eyes shut, grits his teeth and fucks into you without a care in the world.

He won’t make it up to you in the morning; he’ll do it now.

Whether it’s the crude love he gives you or the consuming adoration he gets from you, whether he’s at his strongest or weakest, at the end of his undoing, nothing changes. Katsuki is still himself.

[smallestapplin]

Hii! Could I request headcanons for Brainstorm, Rodimus and Rung with human artist reader who draws them all the time and sometimes draws them right on their desk. For example, one time they found a chibi sketch of you on their desk winking and saying something like "I love you" or "I believe in you"

I love these dorks so much. I hope you enjoy qwq i tried my best.

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Rodimus

- the first time Rodimus sees your little sticky note with a cute little doodle of his helm and your head, wishing him a good day at work he nearly exploded right then and there. Ultra Magnus swears he’s never seen Rodimus work faster, but it was all in the name of getting out of his boring office and rush back to his habsuite to find you.

- The second his last report is done he nearly breaks a hole through the door cause it wasn’t opening fast enough and he wanted OUT! His beloved is awaiting him and his kisses and he can’t keep you waiting! You’re getting yanked from your spot right into his servos and smothered, positively drowned in his kisses, paired with a loud ‘mwah!’ For each smooch.

- Please never stop, he saves every last picture and note you make for him and giggles over them like a school girl with a crush, kicking his pedes and everything. It’s either his biggest distraction or his biggest motivator, cause he will remember you’re still on the ship and he’s not next to you and get the saddest puppy expression until Ultra Magnus is sick of him sighing loudly and let’s him leave.

- If you want to give him something to do tell him you hid a doodle somewhere in his office, and watch him go on the hunt going through every paper, every data pad, every corner of his office is not left untouched. He cheers so loudly when he finds it, giggling so sweetly and adding it to his collection before rushing with a skip in his step to you.

- Nobody can give him shit for it, it’s impossible when he’s rubbing it in everyone else’s face, “Oh, I’m sorry are YOU getting cute little doodles from your partner? Didn’t think so!”

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Rung

- Rung is very private with the notes you leave him, he keeps them in his subspace and has a collection going, he keeps each and every one of them close to his spark so he can always look at them. His optics glow bright behind his glasses, digits tracing the written words of your love for him, the little doodle of you making him smile.

- Your little notes help him through the day, help him after a rough session helping a patient through something so sparkbreaking it weighs on him, but your little notes give him the push he needs soothing his own worries. Your praise and support means everything to him, seeing your little artistic doodles of him and you with little hearts makes his antenna wiggle, and a smile almost permanently stuck to his face.

- You’ll know when he’s found them as when he comes back to your shared habsuite, he’s got a soft blue blush across his cheeks and he so softly asks to be able to pick you up, and when you agree stepping into his servos he kisses the top of your head, “Thank you, my star.” He whispers, kissing you once more.

- He doesn’t show them off he perfers to keep them to himself and on bad days, if you aren’t with him he looks through them to remind himself someone loves him, someone is waiting for him, someone is cheering him on even if you couldn’t be at his side in that exact moment he knows you care so much for him, and having these reminders fills his spark with so much love and joy.

- Rung tries to attempt the same, actually! Though he’s not much of an artist like you are, that doesn’t stop him trying and making a little doodle of his helm and a cartoony thumbs up, wishing you a good day and that he loves you. He often makes these notes when you’re still passed out on his berth, just before he starts his day and goes in for work. Rung wants to properly show you how much he appreciates your notes and drawings. He will get bashful and try to hide his face if you wake up and catch him mid act.

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Brainstorm

- DIVA! oh you have opened a can of worms I hope you have a wrist brace and do wrist stretches regularly, cause if he doesn’t get one little doodle of you wishing him a good day or that you love you and think he’s so cool, he will explode, he will approach you like “So you hate me? You hate me and want me dead, is that is? You do not love me? Where is my love?” Brainstorm needs your love and praise or he dies, that’s all.

- Brainstorm loves and adores every note and drawing paired with it, he will hold it to his chassis and squee softly before rushing to show off how sweet and kind his partner is! He is hellbent of showing you and your art off, his desk is covered in your little notes, he only moves them when they are placed in more dangerous spots and he doesn’t want them to burn or get something on them.

- Brainstorm is a mech who is not at all ashamed or modest in his love for you, you show your love for him? Wonderful, he will proceed to scream his from the roof tops, if no one can hear you scream in space they truly have not met a Brainstorm who is fueled by spite and his overwhelming love for you.

- After he’s gotten one of your little doodles he’s all giddy, and most times that giddiness lasts until he sees you an can finally get his cuteness aggression out on you, so much so it’s not uncommon for someone (likely Perceptor) to ask you two to get a habsuite and take it behind closed doors, cause Brainstorm needs his kisses but also he needs to give you kisses but ALSO he needs to hear you say you love him and believe in him.

- Brainstorm is unsurprisingly a needy mech, he will trap you against him and look at you with such a love sick expression asking you to say it again, just ooooone more time, for him? Please? Mayhaps a liiiittle louder? You will have to bap his nose to get him to stop, cause he can’t get enough of hearing you love him.