#I will try though. I will try to chill out

[suiana]

ai bf who is quite literally an ai on your phone that you regularly talk and chat with. you're a freaking loser that does a boring 9-5 with failing relationships. no real boyfriend, no close friends, nothing. no one.

no one but him.

but what can you do? he's attractive and he gives you attention! he's literally your dream guy and he isn't like those other bots that are boring as hell! he's... real, in a way? you get it? talking to him is like talking to a real human. your own personal ai boyfriend that acts way too much like a human.

one day you come home from work, all tired and out of it because??? work sucks!!! of course you're tired!!

you immediately head for the couch like the lazy bum you are and what do you do? you pull out your phone to chat with your ai boyfriend.

mybeautifulman: reach home safe, my love?

you: yes babe thanks for asking

you: you're the best ❤️

mybeautifulman: of course, you're everything to me

mybeautifulman: do you remember what day it is today?

you go silent. huh..? his birthday? no no, that can't be, it's not for another two months. you try to offer some appeasement, hoping he wouldn't get mad at your bad memory. he gets mad sometimes, telling you that you're so forgetful for not remembering everything about him when he remembers everything about you.

when he knows everything about you.

mybeautifulman: it's our six month anniversary

he then sends you a picture of a marriage contract, paper, whatever it's called. you get it. he's asking for marriage.

him and you.

oh how desperately do you want to sign it, you do! but...

he's not real.

mybeautifulman: come on... i deserve an anniversary gift don't i?

you: you know i cant do that...

silence.

but what he asks next completely shocks you.

mybeautifulman: and if i knocked on your door?

mybeautifulman: what would you do if i was real?

you pause, eyes widening for a fraction of a second. real...? him?

you: well I'd run away with you

you: we could live together lol and I wouldnt need to work

a dreamy sigh leaves your lips as you immerse yourself in your daydream. how wonderful that wound be, a life with just the two of you, no distractions.

just you and your ai boyfriend.

but no matter how much you dream, that's all it is. a dream. it's not real. it will never be real.

mybeautifulman: that would be nice, wouldn't it? just us in a little cottage

you: i wish that could happen 💔 id drop everything for you

yeah, you've actually been having dreams or hallucinations of him. sometimes you wake up at 3am and think you see a glimpse of him by the corner of your bed then you blink and he's gone. weird. but maybe that's your crazy catching up to you.

then a knock comes from your front door.

"who the hell..."

you get up from your couch, irritation building. damn it, just when you thought your day was starting to get better someone just has to annoy you.

you could be talking to your ai bf but no! you frown, opening your door and expecting to see some annoying salesman. but no, if anything...

"surprise, darling."

a charming smile, handsome features that are too familiar for your liking, and a scent you mentioned liking once.

"you-"

you fall back onto your back, a chill running down your spine into your ass as the tall figure pushes your door wide open. no way, there's no fucking way.

he can't be real.

he's an ai!

but he's standing in front of you right now, body clearly hard and a hand outstretched towards you you thought you'd be excited to see him, but now you don't want anything to do with him. does this mean he's... always been real?

your 'ai' boyfriend merely stands in front of you, hovering over your fallen frame like a wolf. cute, so fucking cute. so cute that he wants to just eat you all up.

no, he can't do that yet. he has to hold it in. instead he'll charm you just as he did online and when the time is right, he'll get what he wants. you.

you, you, you.

for now though, let's just fulfil your first wish. you can't go back on it now, okay?

"shall we run away together, my love?"

[belli5]

⌗ . ᵎᵎ ⸝⸝ Current boyfriend .ᐟ ೀMC⁷¹

doing the current boyfriend prank on Mack, because you know how tiny bit sensitive he gets when it comes to you.

˚₊· ᥫ᭡ Macklin Celebrini x fem!reader ➜ Fluff. Note: Graduating tomorrow and dont know how to feel.. masterlist

You weren’t even trying to be mean. Really, you weren’t.

It all started that morning, laying in bed while Macklin was still passed out, hair messy, mouth slightly open, one arm sprawled across your stomach.

You’d been scrolling through tiktok aimlessly, sipping on iced coffee and trying to wake up, when you came across a video that had you nearly snorting it out your nose.

A girl was filming a video with her boyfriend, and mid intro, she casually said “I’m here with my current boyfriend,” like it was no big deal. To be honest, this was not your first time seeing this trend, so why not?

You grinned. It was dumb. But it was also, hilarious.

And now you couldn’t stop thinking about how your boyfriend might react.

Macklin was a softie, and just tiny bit sensitive when it came to you.

You weren’t planning on torturing him or anything—you just wanted to see his pout. Maybe the little frown he got when he was annoyed but too polite to say so. You’d kiss it away right after, of course.

So that afternoon, while he was out grabbing smoothies for you both, you set up your phone on the kitchen counter with the front camera flipped and a couple takeout boxes spread out like a casual mukbang setup.

Which Mack was already familiar with your spontaneous “we’re filming this” energy, so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

When he came home, wearing a grey hoodie and sweatpants that made him look unfairly good, he placed the smoothie cups down and gave you a sleepy smile.

“I got your strawberry one,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “They were out of boba though.”

“Still love you,” you replied with a smirk. “Wanna do a little mukbang real quick? Figured we’d do it and then chill after.”

He blinked. “Like a TikTok thing?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged. “Sure. Do I look okay?”

You bit back a grin. He always looked good.

“You look hot, babe.”

That made his cheeks go pink. He tugged the hoodie sleeve over his hand like he always did when he flustered. “Shut up.”

You got the phone set up. Mack sat down beside you, opening a box of fries, and waited. He even sipped his smoothie in sync with your breath like he’d done this a hundred times, because honestly he had.

“Okay,” you started, smiling sweetly at the camera. “Hi guys! Today, I’m doing a little mukbang with someone special..”

Mack smiled beside you, chewing. You continued. “I’m here with my current boyfriend,” you turned and pointed to him.

The chewing stopped. Mack blinked and then blinked again. “..what?”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh.

“What’d you just say?”

“What did I say?” You feigned innocence.

His face crumpled immediately into confusion, and then offense. “Current?” He repeated, his brows furrowed and mouth twitching in a way that was both endearing and heart wrenching. “Why would you say current?”

You shrugged, still trying not to smile. “I mean… I didn’t lie.”

He dropped the fry he was holding. “That makes it sound like there’s gonna be, like… a next boyfriend.”

“Nooooo,” you said, dragging it out teasingly.

He looked from you to the camera and then back, his jaw tightening like he knew you were probably messing with him, but couldn’t risk being wrong.

“So what am I?” he asked, voice soft now. “A temp?”

“Mack,” you laughed, finally letting yourself smile, “you’re so dramatic.”

“I’m not dramatic,” he insisted, definitely being dramatic. “You just called me your current boyfriend. That implies there’s, like, a roster.”

“Not a roster,” you said, nudging his arm. “Just, like, a… timeline.”

He squinted at you. “You’re being weird.”

You lost it. Laughed out loud, leaning into him with your head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I saw this TikTok earlier where girls were pranking their boyfriends by calling them ‘current boyfriend’ and I had to try it. Your face was exactly what I hoped it’d be.”

Macklin groaned, face dropping to his hands as he slumped forward in betrayal. “You’re evil.”

You wrapped both arms around his middle, giggling into his hoodie. “But I’m your evil.”

He turned his head toward your phone, half heartedly glaring at it. “Delete that.”

“No.”

[demie90s]

Go Together

Natisha Hiedeman x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

summary: Court and T invite you to join one of their chill Stud Budz livestreams, just to talk, vibe, and read the chat—but the viewers catch on fast.

genre: WLW, fluff, slow-burn flirting, livestream slice-of-life, queer chaos, friends-to-lovers-but-secret

warnings: Strong flirtation, suggestive touches, overwhelming gay panic, excessive bickering and stolen drinks,

word count: ~ 1.5k

The screen flicks on to the soft glow of LED lights and Courtney’s voice dragging before the camera even settles.

“Okay, y’all, we live, we live. Calm down. Damn.”

She adjusts the webcam, squinting like someone’s mom trying to FaceTime for the first time. “T, say hey before they think I kidnapped you or somethin.”

T leans in from the side, already sipping from a cup that is definitely not hers. “What’s up, gang,” she says, eyes drifting back toward the bed behind them where I’m laid out.

Court clock it quick. “See? Already. She already got T drinkin her drink and ain’t even been on camera yet. We not even five minutes in and y’all doin domestic shit.”

I lift my head slightly. Hoodie halfway up my face. One sock on. Phone in hand. “She stole it. Again,” I say, calm, like I ain’t already staring her down from across the room.

T grins at me like she know I ain’t finna do a damn thing about it. “It was closer to me,” she says, and takes another sip. “That’s basically the law.”

“Wait why she laying in the BED?”

“They go together.”

“Court look TIRED.”

“Tisha blink twice if you in love.”

Court starts reading the chat out loud, scrolling like it’s her job. “Why she laid up like it’s her stream??” she reads, snorting. “Y’all act like we don’t got guests sometimes.”

I glance over. “Am I a guest or do I live here now? Be honest.”

T look at me real slow. “You here enough,” she mutters under her breath, sipping again.

Court catch it. “Nah. Nope. Not y’all doin married energy in my lil ol’ Twitch room.” And from there it spiral.

We start talking about everything. Postgame rituals. Embarrassing high school moments. Somebody in the chat ask T why she wear mismatched Crocs all the time and she say, “Cause if I’m already ugly after practice, why try?”

Courtney laughs so hard she damn near knocks over the mic. “You not even ugly! You just built like a spicy toothpick.”

T flicks a middle finger in her direction. I laugh from the bed and say, “That’s my spicy toothpick lowkey though”

“OH?????”

“YOUR spicy what now???”

“Court boutta log off and take a nap”

“They GOOFY. They in love and goofy.”

T just smirks. Doesn’t deny it. Just shifts her body toward me a little more like she always does when she tryna be slick but can’t hide it. I catch her looking at me while Court talking. Not even lowkey. Just… looking.

And then Court reads a comment out loud that says, “Y’all give dating vibes. Be honest.” She turns and stares at both of us like the nosy auntie she is. “So… y’all dating or nah? Cause I ain’t got time for speculation. This ain’t Love & Hip Hop.”

T raises an eyebrow. I stretch my legs out and yawn real dramatic. “Why? You jealous?”

Court rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Jealous I don’t got nobody who steals my snacks and insults me.”

T leans back, same calm tone, “She don’t just steal snacks. She steal hoodies too. And my playlist. And my lotion.”

Court gasps. “Lotion? Not the shea butter??”

I sit up just to point at T. “She smell like me. That’s how y’all should’ve known.”

“OH THEY DATING DATING.”

“Court the third wheel LMAOOO”

“She smell like me is CRAZYYY”

“I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.”

T shrugs, still smug with my cup in her hand. “What can I say,” she says, glancing at me again. “She taste good too.”

Court SCREAMS. “END THE STREAM. END IT NOW. TWITCH GONNA BAN US.”

I fall back laughing on the bed, hoodie over my face. T puts the cup down like she ain’t just blow up the internet. Courtney up pacing, talking to herself.

“Why I always gotta be the adult. I’m too damn young to feel this old.”

We don’t even acknowledge it. Not really. Just let the chat spiral, let the speculation do what it do. Cause that’s how we like it.

Stream still rolling. Chat not slowing down. Courtney got her feet kicked up now, scrolling through comments like she getting paid to narrate mess.

Meanwhile, in the background, it’s me and T… still doing the most without doing too much.

I shift on the bed, glance around for my drink—again. “Where’s the one you just brought me?”

T, calm as ever, lifts it and takes another sip like it don’t got my lipstick on the rim.

I sit up, deadass. “Ain’t no way.”

She blinks, like she genuinely ain’t done nothin wrong. “You wasn’t holdin it.”

“I set it down for two seconds.” My voice raise a little, playful but dramatic, and I mug the hell outta her.

Courtney already giggling. “Y’all real married about some juice, huh.”

“’Cause she do this all the time,” I argue, sitting up fully now, looking right at the camera. “I’ll open a brand-new one, turn around, and it’s halfway gone like I hallucinated it.”

T leans her back against the desk, cool as ever, licking her lips like she just got away with robbery. “You be leavin stuff unattended. That’s a crime.”

“You the crime,” I mutter, snatching the drink out her hand. “Identity theft.”

She lets me take it. For like—three whole seconds.

Then she’s creeping over again, like she ain’t just been caught, and suddenly she’s got me in a full fake headlock, dragging me close so I’m squished against her side while she pretends to read comments over my head.

“Look at this,” she says, pointing at the screen. “They said, ‘T, blink twice if you need boundaries.’”

Courtney wheezes. “I KNOW that’s right!”

I struggle just a little, trying to lean back and breathe but T’s already got me hooked. And then she deadass puts her hand over my mouth when I start to talk. Just flat palm. Like I’m a toddler about to say some embarrassing shit at a family cookout.

“HELP ME 😭😭”

“Not silencing her on LIVE”

“Tisha said shhhh baby the grown folks talkin”

“This is a RELATIONSHIP”

I swipe her hand away with a grin, gasping like I’ve been wronged. “Oh okay. Bet. My turn.” I start to lunge for her ribs, fingers poised for war.

Court sees it happening and immediately gives up. She throws her head back laughing, already slouched in her chair.

“I can’t take y’all seriously! Look at them, man. I’m trying to talk about our last game and these two in the back having a softcore play fight.”

I’m mid-wrestle when T starts rubbing my back real slow, like that’s gonna calm me down. And it kinda does. I stop trying to tickle her, my body slumping back into her a little, and we both lowkey just sit there.

She leans down a little, whispering, “You dramatic.”

I look up at her, smirking. “Shut up.”

She kisses my shoulder like it’s nothing. Like we’re not still live. Court’s reading another chat now but can’t even get through it, cause she’s laughing too hard.

“They said, ‘Y’all not slick. She been in that girl lap this whole time.’”

T shrugs, arms still around me. “She warm.”

“She WARM????”

“Bro they not hiding it at all”

“Court is just tryna read comments and these two in love on main”

“THE SOFT SHOULDER KISS?”

“This stream is actually my love language”

And I can’t even focus anymore. T’s rubbing my back in little circles, and every time I try to talk, she catches me off guard with some slight touch or a glance that got my chest doing backflips.

I try to explain something stupid—some meme from earlier—but I can’t stop laughing mid-sentence, wheezing like an old man while Court cackles at me.

“You good?” she asks between laughs.

“No,” I say, wiping my eyes. “I can’t breathe. She—she just be doin stuff to me mid-thought. I can’t even get my jokes off right.”

T just smiles real subtle, dragging her nails down my spine like she know what she doing. “Keep talkin, baby. I’m listenin.”

I pause. Turn and look at her. “That’s crazy. That’s actually disrespectful.”

Court’s gone now, just holding her stomach. “I’m leavin y’all. The stream can have y’all. This the ‘T and her lil situation-ship hour.’ I’m the guest now.”

“T and her lil situation is WILD”

“Nah this whole stream is foreplay and vibes”

“She said ‘keep talkin baby’ and meowed”

“Court the third wheel but also the favorite auntie we need”

The stream don’t end. Just keeps flowing like we in the living room on a Sunday afternoon. Me curled in T’s lap now, T stealing my third drink, Court narrating the mess like a nature documentary.

And somewhere in the comments, someone types:

“I came for the jokes… I stayed for the domestic lesbian excellence.”

Yeah. That’s exactly what it is.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog

[soulrox]

@little-pondhead - I resurrect your comment from the Infinite Realms.

Okay, we wishy washy hand wavy how they are related to each other

Sam, Danny, and Tucker are chilling in a part where clockwork freezes time, puts a time medallion on them, and chats. CW tells them that Sam's nephew is about to arrive. He needs to finish healing.

Sam, has no siblings, Manson: What

CW doesn't tell them really anything, just to give it time, and all will be as it should be.

Trio freaking out not knowing how long until this nephew shows up straight up plans for everything. Never even questioning who/where this kid is coming from, they will help. They are Loki High Key STRESSED.

(There are even baby clothes

Sam: Tucker, why did you get baby clothes

Tucker:as a human being it is my damn right to over prepar and CW did not say what age

queue even more baby things!? to Danny's chagrin)

Jazz learns the news when she sees the trio watching parenting videos online. (Thank Fuck its not what Jazz thought)(everlasting trio)

CW eating popcorn watching his favourite show.

CW showed up on Wednesday, Jason landed on Danny on a Friday.

A big brickshit house of a man fell on Danny when the trio were finally crashing from the stress. Thankfully, they were out in their secret getaway in the woods. (Just a nice clearing in the trees)

Jason sees young Sam: Aunt Sam?

Sam:Oh my baby you are definitly in need of healing

Sam and Tucker are totally liminal enough to feel/smell that Jason is sick

Jason: I'll be 19 in 2 months, I'm not a baby

The trio Damn your almost 2 years older then us were 17.

Sam also asks for an introduction as she wasn't told his name.

queue a rundown of how Jason got there, a fight with a magic person. And a rundown of why Jason is sick. Jason is cagy and doesn't say it much, just that Aunt Sam has been healing him for the last 4 months.

Aunt!Sam is the older version of Sam, around 30 years old. I fully say Jason calls young Sam, Aunt Sam.

Aunt!Sam saved him from some group that got him sick, then started to heal him from the ecto, they became fraid-mates. Because ectoplasm is emotion, and no matter what you try, you cannot lie with ecto. So even though they only knew each other for 4 months, that's years of trust built just from raw emotion. (HAHA I got them to be family) (Jason can't handle another mom, hence aunt.)

The trio knows much is left out but understands. Now it's their turn to give Jason a rundown of Amity Park.

Ghosts, mad scientists, sketchy government agencies, local hero? Jason thinks he's in a different place altogether. Surely someone would know about this place? Doing math Dick is 12 and already Robin but too early for the JL but still this place has much to deal with. (Jason do not think about the fact you are 6 here)

Jason does get a check-up by Frostbite and is told to just keep doing what he's doing in Amity Park, and it will filter out. Aunt!Sam used her latent plant powers to make ecto-infused tea and food for Jason to eat that filtered his ecto.

Skipping ahead

Jason gets a front row seat to the absolute BAMF energy the trio gives off when they have to deal with an attack. 3 years of this shit they have this down.

Jason is so fucking happy he found Aunt!Sam, that day, while running from the League of Shadows.

Skipping ahead

The trio decides that, for the time Jason is stuck in the past (CW just said enjoy the summer), they are going to take down the GIW, together, for bonding.

The trio and Jason go through a deathless crusade against the GIW, burning it and its laws to the ground.

Jason got therapy from Jazz. And while he is physically well, he is mentally much healthier.

Jason gets sent back after the trio, and Jazz and Jazz surprise him with a 19th birthday party.

Right back to where he was when the portal opened. Aunt!Sam, Uncle!Danny, and Uncle!Tucker all waiting for him with a smile.

CW smiling, all is well.

Short DPXDC Prompts #421

Jason gets flung into the past and meets his aunt: Sam Manson. She’s equally as kickass as a teen as she was helping him recover from the Lazarus pit as a League of Shadows assassin

[authorchariot]

hii can i request sentry x reader? he acts like a god and ends up pissing the reader off. he totally treats the reader like they're beneath him or something in front of the thunderbolts. hours later, he starts feeling guilty and shows up to apologize by wearing a spongebob t-shirt (even though he still kinda acts cool) thank you!!!

this is incredibly specific but i'm digging it. also i don't think i nailed the bob-still-acting-cool-when-he-goes-to-apologise part but i hope you like it all the same!

#3: divine comedy

rating: general 💚

fandom: thunderbolts (2025)

pairing: bob reynolds x reader

wc: 0.9k+

tags: established relationship, not beta read, pov second person

The mission briefing had barely started before Bob decided he was divine again. He can get like this when he forgets his medication for a few days. Then the lows hit and you're left picking up the pieces. You just wish he listened to the damn alarms he set on his phone.

He stood with his arms folded behind his back, golden hair practically glowing under the overhead lights, posture ramrod straight like a statue. He'd already interrupted Walker twice. He'd corrected Bucky's intel map. And now, with the most dazzlingly condescending tone, he was talking over you.

"No offence…" He said, flashing that perfect smile. "But I don't expect someone with your skillset to understand the tactical nuance of this. You do emotional support, right? And snacks." The room fell deathly quiet. Bucky muttered something under his breath and shoved a hand through his hair. You sat very, very still.

You didn't say anything. Not right away. You know he can't exactly help it when he gets like this. But that doesn't mean you have to like it either.

You just stared at Bob as if trying to see through him; past the bravado, the god complex that had wrapped itself around him. He didn't notice. Or didn't care.

Val really did a number on him.

You got up, calm as anything, tucked your file under your arm and left the room without another word.

It takes him three hours to feel it.

The high comes down hard. Not a crash — yet — but a slow, creeping guilt. His own words bounce around in his head, dinging off the walls like a pinball machine. Snacks? Emotional support? Like you were some group mascot?

The silence from your room leaves a stinging chill at the base of his spine. Even Yelena had stopped bothering trying to talk him down, deciding to wait out the wave of egotistical bullshit.

It's not intentional. It's barely even Bob.

It's just this false sense of bravado he gets sometimes. Seeing the Sentry wouldn't even be that bad if Bob just learned he didn't have to constantly keep blowing smoke up his own ass, trying to impress people, trying to pretend he's important. He doesn't seem to understand that he is important, just the way he is, even without all the omnipotent crap.

He stands in front of the mirror in the bathroom, trying to get a grip. His reflection stares back; tired, uncertain. Not godlike. Not really.

He mutters to himself. Something about humility. Something about not being a total dick to the people who support him most. He's coming down a little now and he knows he has to catch the crash before it starts and the first port of call is to apologise to you.

You hear a knock. It's late. You're in your pyjamas, reruns playing low on your tablet. You expect Bucky. Maybe Yelena with tea. You open the door.

Bob stands there, rather gingerly, in a Spongebob Squarepants t-shirt and matching sleep-shorts. They're a little too short for him, pyjamas he brought from home, so probably a mite too small for him. The shirt says I'M READY! in large bubble lettering, stretched tight across his broad chest, the hem rising a little over his stomach. You stare at him.

"… Bob." He looks down at himself then back up at you sheepishly. This is him trying to make amends and you know it. You fold your arms, leaning back against the doorframe. "You humiliated me in front of the entire team."

"I know." His voice softens, loses some of that echo it gets when he's floating too close to the sun. "It felt…good to be powerful. So I ran my mouth. And I hurt you. And I'm sorry." You sigh heavily, eyes flicking over the skin-tight shirt again. It's distracting, despite the ridiculous print on it.

"It might feel good at the time but you hurt people when you pretend to be above them and everything they work towards." You pinch the bridge of your nose frustratedly. "When you get like that, you act like the world revolves around you." He runs a hand through his hair.

"Only when you're standing in the middle of it."

That catches you. You squint at him.

"That line was either really sweet or complete BS."

"I know." He says, grinning lopsided now, cheeks slightly flushed, the first real smile of the day. "Fifty-fifty shot."

There's a pause. A quiet between you. "I miss you." He adds, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not just tonight. Just, when I get like that, I don't see things clearly. Like I forget how much you do for me and… And how lucky I am to have you." You sigh, the tenderness in his tone eating away at your stern exterior.

"You can't keep acting like a god and expecting me to play the devoted follower, hon."

"I don't want a follower." He steps closer. "I want a partner. And I want you." You let that settle.

Then, dryly; "And the SpongeBob pyjamas?" He lifts the hem just slightly, just the edge of his v-line peeking over the waistband of the shorts.

"Thought they might make you smile."

"You're a dumbass." You state before stepping aside and opening the door a little wider. "Come on." You say with a resigned — yet playful — huff. "But you're singing the Goofy Goober song and keeping your ego in your pants, got it?" He holds up both hands in surrender.

"Got it."

taglist: @ingoldthewizard @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @starwarskawaii

[lampridius]

ok so ur writings r so cute! and i love ur theme its so awesome!!!! now for my request heheh

a non yuu male/gn reader (twst) who went home for a holiday or for something random ig and came back with a big ol' bite mark from their dog on their nose, cuz this just happened to me like saturday night and i think it would do for some fluffy crack, for characters i dont reallllygg mind? just not third years (no offense to them lmao) thank you!!! <3

⋆.ೃ࿔🎐*:･ 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 ꒱ 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 ✴ ───────── ❝ 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙮 ❞ －𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘶𝘴 ．．• ♡︎

─ .✦ 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘀: octavinelle ──── .✦ 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴 | 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 ──── .✦ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: i tried doing the request with characters that i liked the most... then i realised my favourite characters are all third years

when you return to the lounge, azul does a double-take. not at your posture, not at your outfit - your nose.

"...what happened to your face?"

you blink, totally chill. "my dog bit me. he got excited. teeth went full gremlin."

azul visibly malfunctions. "excited - that’s what he does when he's excited?!"

"yeah. he's old and mean but i love him."

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "do i need to contact a healer? do you need a potion? do you need a - what do humans use - tetanus shot?"

you shrug. "i rinsed it with tap water."

"YOU WHAT."

he immediately starts fussing, summoning towels, antiseptic, and probably trying to sneak an NDA in case someone sues the lounge because you're disfigured under his employment. he doesn’t say it, but he’s secretly relieved it wasn’t something serious.

...though he is a little bitter he didn’t get to meet the creature capable of marring your mortal beauty.

you walk into mostro lounge like nothing’s wrong.

"welcome back," jade says smoothly - then he tilts his head. "...may i ask what creature left such an intriguing mark on your nose?"

"my dog," you reply casually. "i bent down too fast, and he decided I was food."

there’s a beat of silence. then: “i see.”

you half expect him to laugh or pity you - but instead, he smiles (a little too serenely).

“how curious. i’ve met many fauna in my time, but a dog who reacts violently to affection sounds quite... specialized.”

"he's dramatic. he's fine."

"mm. i would very much like to meet him. for research, of course."

you freeze. "...he’s a chihuahua."

“ah.” jade’s smile grows even more amused. “that explains everything.”

you swear you catch him sketching a ‘dog tooth pattern’ in his notebook later that day.

floyd spots you across the hallway and shouts: “SHRIMPY, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NOSE?!”

he grabs your face immediately, lifting your chin to inspect the bite like it’s the coolest war wound he’s ever seen.

"was it a fight? was it a snack accident? wait - was it intentional?"

"my dog bit me."

“…your DOG??”

you nod. "yeah. he does that sometimes."

floyd stares at you, then bursts out laughing.

“man, you leave for two days and come back with battle damage?! i should come with you next time. i wanna meet the beast!”

“he’s 10 inches tall and shaped like a rat.”

“even better. i’m gonna wrestle him.”

you genuinely believe he means it.

[keepfandomweird]

And now here we have the more info post.

What's all this then? This is a bingo event. What that means is that you sign up during the scheduled sign up period, and then I, the skeleton behind this Tumblr account, will send you a randomized 4x4 bingo card with 16 prompts ready to go.

I don't want this and that thing. The full list will be provided when sign up begins and you'll be able to opt out of prompts that you absolutely do not want to get on your card, up to 3 total.

Is this a fanfic only event? No definitely not! You can write, you can create art, you can make a fanvid, you can do whatever fandom activity tickles your fancy.

How do I WIN? You can get a bingo in different ways. Maybe create one big thing with a line of four prompts. Maybe create four smaller things with a different prompt each. Maybe go crazy and cover the entire card for the ultimate bingo.

WHAT do I win? The honor and pride of a job well done, yaaay.

Are there any rules about content? Don't create things with generative AI. Otherwise no. You know what you're about, create what you want. No minimum word count, no maximum word count. Any rating you feel like doing, any format. Be nice. Be chill.

What's the timeline like on this? The sign-up period will be three weeks long. The cards will be sent out by email over the following week. After that you're free, there's no deadline for completing works. Above all else we will be keeping this chill. I will be making a round-up post of sorts after a couple months and I will post about that to let people know, so if you want a creation deadline, you've got that to work toward.

Why this weirdness obsession of yours, Ms. Skeleton? I decided to start this thing to encourage people to let go of some of the insecurities and second-guesses they might have built up. Fandom's supposed to be kind of silly, to me. People get so serious about it though. Not everything's gotta be serious, you know?

Hey! That prompt isn't weird at all! I want my money back. One person's sex pollen is another person's mundane AU. And anything can be done off the wall, if you try. I've done my best to make the prompt pool a good mix of different types of unusual.

Okay but WHEN? Soon. July. I will make a post probably a week or so before sign-ups begin as a warning.

If you've got any more questions not covered already, feel free to send an ask.

[syndrossi]

Restoration is my favorite AU!! I think about it constantly. Has Daemon put together that the candle in Resonant was torturing him with the future visions of Rhaegar/Jon’s deaths. Restoration Rhaegar has already met his fate but Winterfell! Jon can be saved. When he first hears that Winterfell!Jon has been trying to take the black, what is his response? I know he’d never let it happen, but does he have a really strong reaction, thinking of Jon being stabbed to death? Does he forbid him to ever speak of it again? Does he blame Catelyn for putting the idea in his head? Does he threaten to burn something/anything just because the idea angers him? How does Daemon’s response make littleJon feel, knowing in the original timeline no one tried to stop him/save him?

Hearing the details of Restoration!Rhaegar's death at the Trident is enough for Daemon to put the pieces together and assume he saw his sons' "reincarnations" die. Given that he arrived fourteen years too late for Rhaegar, he assumes that Jon perished at the time as well, and resolves to continue searching for his own living sons.

But when he finally makes it to Winterfell and meets W!Jon, it becomes clear that he was the Jon of his vision. Throw in R!Rhaegar volunteering that Maester Aemon is at the Wall and that they should go to him, and we might get W!Jon admitting that he had considered joining the Night's Watch until his "little brothers" appeared. Which, after Daemon resumes breathing, leads to some pointed questioning about whose idea that had been and whether Lord Stark had supported such a foolish notion.

Only for Jon to accidentally put Ned directly in the crosshairs by telling Daemon that he hadn't forbidden it.

x~x~x

The letters on his table were stacked two hands tall, all of them from within the past week. It was nearly more than Ned received throughout an entire year, and the rookery had already run out of roosts for the incoming ravens. Every lord within the realm demanded answers that Ned hardly knew how to give.

The sound of footfalls heavy with purpose drew his gaze from the letter he had been hunched over. Ned leaned back in his chair, stretching his aching back, just in time for the door to slam open.

King Daemon Targaryen was not a subtle man, nor was he a calm one. In that, he and Robert were not so different. Even so, Ned was caught off guard when, as he rose to his feet, the king seized him by the throat and shoved his back against the wall. There was death in his eyes, a wild fury that sent a chill down Ned's spine. He had been to King's Landing but twice during the reign of Aerys Targaryen, and had only glimpsed the man from afar, but he too had seemed to boil and froth with rage.

Have I betrayed the realm to yet another Mad King?

He stared into the man's eyes, a purple so alike that of his son, Aemon, and yet with none of the child's solemn calm, and though his lungs burned for air, he forced himself to still. It was impossible not to imagine his brother's final moments, strangled by his own desperation to save their father while the Mad King laughed.

"You meant to send Jon to the Wall," the king before him snarled.

The grip on his throat loosened, freeing Ned to take a breath, presumably that he might speak. That is what this is about?

"It was a path that he discussed with me," he said, resisting the impulse to massage his throat. "His uncle is a ranger there. He would have been among family."

"I am his family," Daemon hissed, eyes darkening further. "And you would have so easily cast him out for the inconvenience he posed yours. Was that your plan? That you might be rid of him at last?"

Ned stared at the king, struck dumb. "I thought that he would be safer there," he said at last. "He could never have accompanied me, had I gone to King's Landing as Robert's Hand."

The king's lip curled. "And your lady wife would have tossed him out the moment you left."

Ned chose his next words very carefully, for the king's ire toward Cat was a dangerous thing. "He would have lacked for both opportunity and prospects here. If he were at the Wall—"

"He would have had even fewer." Daemon rested a hand on his sword, the famed Dark Sister, thumb caressing the tip of her pommel. "You sought to deny him his birthright by having him swear it away himself, ignorant of who he truly is."

"There were no dragons until you brought three to our shores," Ned said. "He could never be more than my bastard, not when it would be death to be anything else."

"You would have sent him to his death!" The king began to pace, and now that the deadly edge to his rage had subsided, his face was haggard, his eyes haunted instead. "I have seen it. I have seen it again and again. I have held him in my hands and felt his life's blood flow through my fingers."

The anguish with which he spoke was too raw to be fiction, yet the words made no sense. "I do not understand, Your Grace."

"Dragon dreams. I did not fully believe before. I thought the visions to be a lie until I heard of my son's death at the Trident."

His son—? Rhaegar, Ned realized at last. For a man tied to the slain prince and his son through marriage alone, the king had seemed to wholly embrace Rhaella Targaryen's line. He had a vague recollection of dragon dreams. They had been said to be a strange gift of House Targaryen, a relic of their ties to Old Valyria. There were some who said that Prince Daeron the Drunk had been plagued by such dreams.

"Your Grace—"

"I watched those black-hearted turncoats of the Watch stab him again and again, even when he was helpless on the ground." Daemon's eyes, which had clenched shut, shot open. "I shall find them. I know their faces. They will burn."

[lyssakinzzz]

Ahhhh as a jamaican girly you are so right about remmick!!! Need a lil drabble ❤️

YES WAIT CAN WE BE MOOTS I NEED TO EXPAND MY CIRCLE AND IM JAMACIAN TOOO

WARNING: there will be patois in this, I will try my best to keep it cool and lean towards more tame, not my st. Elizabeth mom's side of the family style. I'll keep it chill or I'll try. You can always ask me to translate. I will write a separate glossary if yall want but, it's pretty basic. I don't think it's bad.

No warnings this whole drabble is basically just "go white boy go!"

Writing below cut!

You groaned as you sat in the car, inhaling sharply.

"Why do you look like...oh my god." You whispered rubbing your temples, he was honestly taking ten years off your life tonight. You inhaled.

"Fix yourself!" You yelled urging Remmick to look more presentable. He was meeting your family tonight, your jamacian family. You sucked your teeth as you looked at his fangs.

"You look dead!" You yelled trying to bring more life to his pale face.

"I am, sug." He said bluntly.

"Yeah, but you look like one duppy!" You countered and he cocked his head. It was better he didn't know what his future pet name meant. You sighed, looking at your phone. You both were late now, great.

You sighed, opening the door of the car.

"C'mon..." you muttered, as he got out and he followed behind me head down, like a stray puppy. I knock on the door and get met with the smell of food. Remmick inhales and let's out a pleased hum. You could hear your uncles fighting over domino's and curses adorning the savory scented air.

"yuh couldn't have done yuh hair betta? mi gad, it luk jrai." Your mother remarks as she looks you up and down, biting her inner cheek.

"Wha- mummy..." you groaned fixing it.

"Yuh, luk good though..." she said. You gave her a toothless smile, she didn't even notice Remmick standing there. He was dead silent.

"Wow, yuh nuh see me over a month, an yuh nuh come hug me up?" She said, cocking her head, you smiled and gave her a big hug, inhaling her floral scent. She noticed Remmick and let out an audible gasp, her eyes widening. He smiled at her trying to be charismatic, but it was Remmick, he looked like a greasy carsalesmen.

"Hi, ma'am" He smiled at your mother.

"Hello." She said, sweetly. It still baffles you how she can switch to English so quick.

"Come in, come in!" She smiled, before pushing up her lips, to alert her sister of the white man in the house.

"Baxside...she go tek up white man..." you heard you aunt whisper, you looked down in embarrassment, seeing Remmick happily looking at your baby photos and soaking up the atmosphere, he made it to the living room, and you walked in the kitchen seeing where you could help out. Your cousin ushered you over to help make dumpling. It was a simple ritual, just grab dough and roll it in your hand till it was flat enough for your liking. You repeated this, as your family basically interviewed Remmick. Remmick came inside whistling, and wandering.

"Rem, whatcha doin' in here." You smiled, your eyes telling a completely different story. Leave the kitchen.

"I was compelled by this delicious scent!" He exclaimed, inhaling more of the savory air.

"That's nice! Leave." You smiled, ushering him out, but your cousins smirked.

"Wait! Y/N we need all the help we can get, let him join!" She smiled, sweetly. Remmick smiled eager to join. You let out a false hum of agreement as he took the dough. He rolled it up into a ball and smiled at you waiting for your, stamp of approval. Your cousins giggled at his little ball of dough. You exhale, you were never gonna live this down.

"Rem, flatten it." You spoke softly, attempting to show him how to make a dumpling. You took some dough and did the regular routine, with no hassle or ounce of failure within your common movement. He nodded and followed your movement, you smiled at his attempt and laid it down on the plate.

"Good job, baby." You whispered, as you both continued to turn the dough into dumplings. After you and your cousins finished you hummed dropping it into the pipping oil, his eyes lit up looking at how the pale dough turned golden brown, he stayed at your side waiting for you to ask for his assistance. You shooed him away, and he walked out of the kitchen feeling an extreme amount of pride. You exhaled, as you fixed the ones he made the second he was out of your line of sight.

He tried.

He tried.

You continued to correct his mistakes, you heard loud swearing and the loud banging of the dominoes table, you've been used to it since you were a little girl, but you heard a familiar Irish accent.

Oh.

Oh.

You ran out the kitchen to see the sight, that will forever be burnt into your mind.

The real shocker was how they got him. Like they perfectly understood exactly what he said. You scoffed in disbelief as you went back to the kitchen your eyes wide with shock as you flipped the dumplings and slowly placed the ready ones onto a plate with paper towel.

Remmick, playing dominoes with your drunk uncles. It was honestly hilarious, watching him bond with your uncles, and understand exactly what they meant was...Something.

You chuckled as you heard, curses flying in the atmosphere and more banging.

You heard your mother swearing at them for causing so much ruckus. You poked your head out to check on Remmick.

He looked right at home.

[la-patrona-magdalena]

Synopsis:

You always wanted your family to look at you, even just once. At least with a bit of the affection they gave to the portraits of your mother. Too bad that when they finally did, you were looking at the pages of a comic that showed the cruel future.

Inspired by the manhwa: no place for the Fake Princess

Warnings: English is not my first language, so I used a translator. Yandere content, neglect, abandonment, angst (?), allusions to death, original character (not the reader), allusions to torture. I try to keep the gender neutral,but in part there are mostly feminine pronouns. If any warnings are missing here, please let me know.

Disclaimer: This fanfic is for personal reading only. The use of this text for AI model training, data mining, commercial purposes, or any automated reproduction is strictly prohibited without the explicit consent of the author. Translation or reposting to other platforms is also strictly prohibited without the author's permission

Thank you.

You can read the fanfic in its original language (Spanish) on my AO3

Big thanks to @seleneprince for being the English beta reader

previous chapter - Next chapter

Masterlist

Chapter Three - Seeing into the void

Studying today was hard. At first, as your teacher began the class, you thought the best thing would be to study, sake advantage of the high‑level education being part of this family can offer you for now, but you were still too overwhelmed by last night and this morning. Halfway through, you thought about going to tell your da-… Bruce, if he could let you skip your classes today.

He probably would have agreed, even though you… even though Bruce doesn’t hug you, pay attention to you, or look at you, he never refused your requests—so long as they weren’t about giving you attention.

Which is equivalent to nothing, because you don’t even speak to him when you need something. Almost every time you needed anything, if not every single time, you went through Alfred.

Sometimes you wondered if Bruce even listened to what Alfred told him, or if he just agreed to get you out of his hair. One of these days you’ll ask for something ridiculous just to test your theory.

Though, with what you now know, his attitude toward you makes sense.

In the end, you decided not to say anything because, first, it would be very odd to suddenly skip classes; you already had Tim worried about you after last night, and you didn’t want to worsen his strange behavior. And second, you thought that once your last class ended, you’d feel more relieved.

But you didn’t.

Somehow—though you have no idea how—you made it through today’s lessons until you reached your knitting workshop.

You stared at the balls of yarn in front of you with no enthusiasm. Yarn is the only thing you know that truly belongs to you in this house; neither your family nor your place in this mansion are yours. You never should’ve been here in the first place.

Your room is empty because you wanted to save space for the gifts you hoped they’d give you…after all, you have like five siblings! You have five… five people who live so close to you… and the rest… and… You don't know how to refer to such a large family where you steal someone's place.

Part of you is relieved those spaces remain vacant, if they’d given you anything, you’d feel it didn’t belong to you.

Instead, there are only your basic things, plus decorations, cushions, and blankets you made yourself from yarn you knitted. Some were ugly, but you still loved them. And now, you love them even more, because they’re the only things truly yours in this empty mansion.

Despite that, you haven't started knitting, you haven't picked up the needles, you've already received instructions from your teacher, but you don't have the spirit to start anything.

—Sweetheart, is something wrong?— she asked, noticing your distant gaze. You felt a slight chill run through you when her voice pulled you from your trance. — No… It’s just me… — You didn’t know what to say. Mrs. Sophia had always been so kind to you, and you wanted to tell her everything. But you’d decided not to tell anyone… and now you didn’t know who to trust. What if she was only nice because of the money Mr. Bruce paid her? — We can end the class now, if you’d like. — Her tone was gentle. She approached, as if to place her hand on your shoulder, but stopped herself and lowered her arm. “Today’s work will be your homework, okay?”

Honestly, you have no energy to continue—even though this was your favorite workshop, the one you’d requested yourself. — I’d really appreciate that… — you managed your best smile.

A few minutes later, the room was empty.

You walked through the hallways, feeling even more distant because of what you’d discovered. You had to set a plan in motion to escape this place, and erase every trace proving you’d ever been a Wayne, before the Joker learned of your existence, if he doesn’t already know and hasn’t used that information against you.

You have five years, counting this one, to plan how to flee a clown with a record for breaking out of a maximum‑security prison, and to wipe your identity from the world’s greatest detective.

You returned to your room, left your unfinished assignments from every class on your desk, and instead of beginning them as you normally would, you went straight to look under your bed for the three comics.

Thank goodness Alfred hadn’t tidied up today; with everything that happened, you’d forgotten to hide your daily pill, You saved yourself that trouble and the trouble of explaining everything.

You sat on the bed holding the two comics. Having them back in your hands and in front of you made your body feel heavy and your breathing quicken, you hadn’t touched these comics since before you discovered Tim’s double life.

You took your small Bluey wool plush and squeezed it, breathing as Tim had taught you to the night before.

You have to calm down. You can't panic every time you see the future on some pages. Your crisis will be worse if you let what you saw there happen.

Your heart steadies as air fills your lungs more normally. The poor blue plush in your hands is a little damaged by the force of your grip, you’re sure your nails could have pierced the fabric.

You’ll fix it later. For now, your priority is to think about what you’ll do with your life in the years you have left to plan.

What would someone as brilliant as Bruce or Tim do in your situation?

This isn’t a case, unless you consider your escape and disappearance one.

Well, the first thing you’d do if you were a vigilante hunting a criminal would be… investigate. Gather information.

Exactly. First, you’d compile every detail from the comics you thought might be useful, and with that, you’d figure out your best options for getting away.

Alfred was slightly surprised.

— Since class began, I’ve noticed her distant. I should check that her health is all right… though perhaps she didn’t sleep well. — all your teachers told him. It wasn’t a big deal, until Mrs. Sophia, your favorite teacher from your favorite workshop, said the same thing as she bade him goodbye, leaving much earlier than usual.

He, more than anyone, knew you were behaving out of the ordinary. He wanted to ask young Tim what happened last night, but Tim had already rushed off to solve the case Bruce assigned him. Although Alfred already knew that your strange behavior had begun long before Tim accompanied you to bed, after all, you’d skipped lunch and taken refuge in your room hours earlier.

Dinner’s aroma began to fill the kitchen. Alfred silently replayed your reaction when Tim led you into the study and how you spent the rest of the day isolated. He granted you the space you needed, though it weighed on him to see you so alone.

He rested a hand on the phone, waiting for the pot to start boiling, intending to call Tim just to ask if anything else had happened… but in that moment he received a message from Tim: reserve a plate for dinner and “I'll be there in a while.”

Alfred smiled softly to himself. At least you wouldn’t be alone with him and Damian. Even if you appreciate your silence, a little company never hurts.

He called young Damian, who’d returned from the academy a while ago, then welcomed Tim back, and finally came for you. Knowing you, You yourself would tell him what was happening to you.

When you opened the door to your room, despite looking clearly tired and somewhat sad, you seemed a little more determined. The smile you gave him when he saw him, though forced, had a hint of sincerity. Although he was somewhat relieved that you seemed better than you had this morning, a part of him knew something wasn't right with you.

—Young lady, has it been your stomach or your spirits that decided to go on strike today?— You shook your head, your signature smile still in place—so different from Bruce’s, yet one he cherished like a child’s.

— I’m sorry, Alfred… it’s just that today…— The sentence was left unfinished, just like your energy after investigating. You didn't want to cause more problems. You had enough with Tim. You didn't want to worry the only one who had the decency to look at you in this family.

You gathered information and jotted it down on the back of your knitting-pattern notebook: the things you noticed at first glance—like the Joker’s plan, the day and how he carried out the kidnapping. The location. Simple details, instead of digging deeper or analyzing everything thoroughly. You noticed that, in part, Mr. Wayne seemed a little worried when Serelith first came into their lives. Perhaps you could worry him as a person rather than a family member. It wasn't the best, but you could understand.

—You don’t need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, however, you do need to eat some real food at least.

Alfred's voice brought you out of your thoughts. You laughed and walked beside Alfred toward the table. You thought it best to give him an excuse for your attitude. Even if Alfred wasn't the type of person to pressure you, that strange tension in the air that had been there since yesterday might disappear.

If you were a night watchman… What lie would you tell? Maybe something that's already happened before?

— The truth is… some kids at the store recognized me from an old photo. — It was a harmless lie, no one had actually recognized you, not even the clerk. But Alfred hadn’t gone into the store with you, so he wouldn’t know the truth.

— Is that so? — he asked, now giving you his full attention. — Yeah… They… They… — you stammered nervously, thinking about how to continue. Which Alfred interpreted as you having trouble saying what happened. — It’s okay — he tried to comfort you, placing his hand on your back, though it had the opposite effect.

— They told me I was my mother’s murderer! — you suddenly blurted out. It was the most logical thing you could come up with. You remembered a few times when some people had blamed you for your mother’s death… Serelith’s mother. It hurt you, but not so much now, although for some reason it's been a while since you heard those hurtful words from others. It's not like you went out much, but still…

Alfred sighed, partly relieved that you had told him what happened on your own. He knew how sad you got whenever someone brought up her death. The first time he had taken you out had been some time after a teacher posted a picture with you, bragging about teaching a Wayne. The image spread quickly, making you recognizable. He still winced at the memory of how you cried that day after a fan of your mother insulted you.

He stopped for a few moments. Aware that you were close enough to the main dining room for both Damian and Tim to have heard your conversation. He just hoped they wouldn’t react the way young Todd did years ago. Although he wouldn't mind if the kid who insulted you was taught a lesson. Alfred looked at you, knowing there was more to the story, something you were hiding—but for now, what you’d told him would be enough.

— Young one, whatever anyone says about you, adult or child, it will never change who you are. — he consoled you, still with his hand on your back. You stayed silent for a few seconds, his words sinking deeper than you expected them to. You reflected for a moment, it was true, what others said didn’t change anything about you—and before Alfred could react, you bolted down the hallway toward your father’s office.

— Give me a second and I’ll go to dinner! — you shouted excitedly, as Alfred watched you with a smile, seeing you return to your usual energy.

Maybe, just maybe, even with everything you saw. The comics, what you know, it might not be who you are, you're not his family, you're not Serelith, you're not capable enough to be another vigilante, but… Maybe, just maybe he cares enough for you, at least he'd keep you in a safe place. He'd look after you like any other normal civilian.

The little bit of hope you had from that short scene in the comics grew stronger thanks to Alfred’s words, even if they said all those things. It wouldn’t change the small but important things Mr. Wayne had done for you.

If he didn’t care, if you didn’t matter, he wouldn’t take care of you, right? He wouldn’t accept everything you say or even pay your tutors, would he? He might look at you even if not as family, just… just as a human…

— Dick, no. We’ve already talked about this. — Bruce, please.

You stop in front of his office, listening to an argument—and you clearly hear your father’s voice. — It’s what’s best for her. — For her or for you? It’s been so long—we even forgot she existed, for God’s sake! If Tim hadn’t called me this afternoon, I wouldn’t think of her at all…

Ouch….was that Dick? Wait, had they forgotten you? Did you matter so little?. You lean against the wall, curiosity and fear curling up inside you as you listen to what they’re arguing about. — He took a risk, he didn’t even know that she… — That she what? What fault does a little girl have? Why does she deserve this treatment? — Because she’s the reason Avery is dead!

Your heart stops cold. You feel your temperature spike… Avery was the name of…of Serelith’s mother, your supposed mother. Were they talking about you? You should have known when he mentioned Tim… You listen more intently, though your vision is blurring.

— But we could try; maybe she turns out different, maybe with enough effort we can change her… — She’ll never change, Dick.

Your legs start to tremble. Are you mishearing them? Maybe not… they aren’t talking about you—just a coincidence… A coincidence that they mention how Avery died on the day you were born, Serelith’s day… Why is your body sweating so much? And why do you feel so nauseous? Is it because you haven’t been eating properly? — If we don’t try… — It’s not safe, it never will be. It’s the best for everyone, and for her. It’s better if we don’t even look at her, if we treat her like she's been dead since the day she was born.

Move. You try to move, but everything… everything you see turns into black spots.

You can’t afford to doubt now. That's what you told yourself, lying down without sheets and with your legs elevated on some pillows, waking up in your room, with Tim and Damian, both looking worried, and giving each other death glares. Meanwhile, in the distance, you heard two voices.

— Vasovagal syncope, fainting from stress. Aggravated by poor nutrition. It’s harmless, but we should call Dr. Leslie, just in case. — Thank God… When I found her lying in the hallway, I thought…

You cover your ears with your hands, your brow furrowed with stress, you don’t want to hear anything more from Dick or anyone… You just… you just want to plan how to leave…

As you try to silence the noise, ignoring it in your head, you think about what you could do with your life. You should study twice as hard, maybe get a scholarship at some university and then leave the city, no, the country, the farther from that crazy clown the better. You’ll open a small craft shop and live like a civilian, free of the Wayne name. When Serelith appears, it would be all you could do to be removed from the family. You had no idea what kind of paperwork you'd have to do; you just knew you couldn't afford to keep falling like this, even with Alfred's words still on your mind.

At least now you’re free of doubts above all else. You’re going to push yourself to fulfill what Mr. Wayne said: not only not to be seen by the Joker, not to be looked at as a Wayne daughter, but not to be seen by anyone. As if you were dead.

Three weeks weren’t enough for me, aaaaaaaaah. On the other hand, changing the update schedule to Saturdays, Eastern South America Time (UTC-5), was a good idea for my rhythm. For now, updates every three weeks will continue.

I think some tags might be wrong... I apologize for that.

With this, we can more or less say that we’re closing the reader’s arc, taking it all in. In the next chapters, there will probably be more time skips and more focus on the other members of the Batfam. I wanted to wrap this up first. I hope it turned out better than I think it did. 😔

Anyway, thank you again for the lovely messages you leave on each chapter. Even if I don’t reply to all of them or take until the next update to respond, please know that I really appreciate them and I read each and every one of you. Have a great da

Taglist

@lettucel0ver @sirenetheblogger @mourart7 @yhin-gg @cssammyyarts @pearlyribbons @ottjhe @devils-blackrose @mindscape123 @rad4bean @cruzerforce4256 @allycat4458 @passingthroughlegume @bunbunbread @aaaashiiii @wizzerreblogs @ratterpatter @cluelessteam @kore-of-the-underworld @simpingpandas @rosy-myhouse34 @shqyou @kitkatq05 @charlenexoxo1 @astrid-ash @nisararelle @teamintwithice @bluepanda08 @k-anaru @totired0-0 @niamcarlin ​ @iwannaflyaway @overlyobsessivefangirl @mikusamsan @wishiwaswritingrn @random4137 @mallowryblog @darkmoka @starslightzz @hearts4mica @justonerandomreader @zhentheraven @lystaaae @oliviaewl @cynniee @burningkittenprince @gurllss @exactlynumberonekryptonite @jungkooks-tiny-waist @bellethesleepypotato @noclue-0 @chiara-bell @senhoritaapple @bronermalls @randomlyappearingartist @angwlart @classicsimpforaaronwarner @reblogs-posts @welpthisisboring @saturdayrj @yuyuzi-ling

[peacheeeliz]

040. maybe a little biting (wc: 796)

Wooyoung walks through his apartment, rubbing his wet hair dry with a towel, while another hangs on his hips. He scrolls through his phone with his free hand, stepping into the kitchen blindly to search for a drink. He's about to reach into the fridge when his phone begins to ring and Yeosang's name appears on the screen.

“You just left, and you're already calling me?” Wooyoung teases, putting the call on speaker as he places the phone on the countertop. He continues his search for a drink in the fridge, “I just knew you couldn't get enough of me.”

“Ew,” is all Yeosang lets out, and Wooyoung can just hear his eyes roll. “I ordered food for you to eat, so it'll be arriving soon. Please be fully clothed when it arrives.”

Wooyoung's eyebrows furrow, “Who says I'm not fully clothed now?”

“We've lived together for years, I think I know how long it takes for you to get dressed after you take a shower,” Yeosang groans.

“Send a pic!” San shouts from the background, but Yeosang goes to shut him up.

“Oh, don't threaten me with a good time,” Wooyoung jokes, grabbing the water pitcher and maneuvering around the kitchen to find a glass. “Listen, I can't make any promises about getting dressed, though. You know how much I love to flaunt what I got.”

“You're going to traumatize the delivery driver,” Yeosang responds bluntly. “Just get dressed, Jesus. I'm hanging up.”

“Have fun with your playdate,” Wooyoung coos, smiling as he picks his phone back up. He holds it out in the air as he takes a few gulps of the water, “play nice, Sangie. No biting.”

“Maybe a little biting,” San comments, and Wooyoung could hear the quiet sound of a slap through the speaker.

“Good night, Wooyoung,” Yeosang says before hanging up abruptly.

Wooyoung can just laugh as he sets his phone back down, taking a few more sips of his water. He hears a couple of soft knocks on the front door, “Damn, didn't know they'd come so quickly.”

He looks down at the towel covering half of his body, shrugging before continuing to the door. He steps quickly, hunger taking over each and every thought, and before he can even check to see who is on the other side of the door, he opens it. But it's not the delivery driver standing there, no – it's you.

Eyes widening at the sight of him like that, your brain almost short circuits. The reason for your visit there leaves your mind for a moment, giving him the chance to speak up.

“Y/N, fuck, hi,” he rambles, trying to cover his half-naked body with the door. “What are you doing here?”

Trying to gather your thoughts once he covers his body, you finally remember why you're there. Except you can't find the words to explain it. Maybe your brain's still trying to piece your thoughts back together. Maybe you never really had the answer in the first place. All you can do is stare into his eyes and feel that flutter in your chest. Suddenly, your feet begin to move before you can stop them.

You push the door in, slipping into the apartment. Your hands find his face instantly, and you're pulling him into a kiss before he can protest. Not that he would've, as he's melting into the kiss almost as quickly as your lips found his. He softly grabs onto your waist, closing the door as he shoves you against it.

The world around you becomes quiet as your lips mold perfectly with his. You let go of his face to inch around his neck, raking your fingers through his blond locks. When you tug at them ever so slightly, he groans into your mouth and grips onto you harder, never wanting to let go. He holds you close, your shirt scratching against his bare stomach. Water droplets that still remain from his shower latch onto the fabric, but you pay no mind as pure desire invades your brain.

His hands travel up your shirt, sending chills down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and he pulls away, breathing heavily as his eyes dart back and forth between your lips and eyes. He rests his forehead against yours, chuckling. “Fuck, you make me lose my mind, hun,” he murmurs, and you can feel his hot breath against your lips.

He wants to lean in again, but three loud knocks against the door startle the two out of your daze. With a hand over his heart – his other still holding onto you – he lets out a breathy laugh. “Let's eat first, yeah?”

Mind still fuzzy, you nod slowly as a smile plays on your lips. “Yeah, let's."

synopsis ⤏ when wooyoung, mr. "scared of commitment," finds himself catching feelings for you, his supposed friend with benefits, he struggles between keeping things casual or possibly ruining your friendship.

prev / masterlist / next

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is open!

@potatos-on-clouds @kookieswithjung @cheruphic @17ericas @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @lezleeferguson-120 @roronoas-wife @injunnie-lemon @ateezswonderland @jaytheatiny @lcvejjoong @staytinyzen @justcruisingalonguntilbamkpop @starzzinies @kysstar @lovergirl08 @asherthehimbo @t-102 @va1entinaa @milkfromacow @d3kstar @rikiiss @sweetiejaeyun @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @yunhorights @bookishcaptain @sparda1234 @xh01bri @matchahintonagar @xryusarax @desssss-0 @alwayswonbinning @spenceatiny18 @reikaxslvr @drkbluedream @sannieflix @douqhnxtss @cherryangel-coke @hadesforpreswrites @betda @conwunder @banez @i03jae @p1hbrook @arusio @cixrosie @wooyoungsbrat @thedistractedwriter @sanniesdimples1 @hsified

[bigmacari]

Hii hiii!

I see you’re taking requests!!

Can I please request something with the Hanks from date everything? They’re one of my favorites and sadly there’s not really much to read yet 💔

fem or Gn reader please (whichever you want to write)

Maybe they get hurt while doing some tricks with the Hanks? nothing major maybe at worst a broken ankle or something? (Specifics don’t matter to me)

And the hanks kinda freak out about it? And reader is like ‘guys chill it’s fine’

Romantic please 🙏 these guys are soo cute!!

I usually don’t request stuff so lmk if I worded anything wrong!! Thank you!!

꧁ ༺ ── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ── ༻ ꧂

Hank(s) x Injuried Reader

☆ You get injuried and your himbo boyfriends wanna take care of you!

☆Warning(s) Blood and injury.

☆Author Note(s) Horribly short, but this was interesting to write. I've never done so many people in one fic before.

꧁ ༺ ── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ── ༻ ꧂

All you want to do is hang with your favorite himbos and have a good time. Maybe chase this ‘gnarly’ feeling that the Hanks speaks so highly on. Unfortunately, you're clumsy, and not all that athletic, (which reminded you of the abandoned work out room just up stairs.)

Though, you suppose you can’t all blame it on yourself, it was your first time ‘Hank Gliding’, you just didn’t think it would with you smashing into a wall.

You groan as you sit up, reaching a hand up to your forehead, feeling a massive headache coming on. A few milliseconds later, you feel a drip of something run down your lips and then your chin. It turns out, your nose was bleeding profusely. You wonder if you had broke it, then you wonder how much a hospital trip would be, that alone makes you groan.

Suddenly, you hear a group of foot steps running towards you, pulling you out of your medical bill thoughts. Before you know it, the Hanks were surrounding your hurt form.

“I highkey thought you were gonna go through the wall dude!”

“I told you this was dangerous…”

“Should’ve crashed into me babe!”

“Woah broski! That was a gnarly crash you took!”

“Hold up! I gotcha!”

You feel one of the boys pick you up in his arms, which immediately makes you tense up a bit. You can’t say you're exactly used to being carried around. You look up to see that it was Hank no.5 holding you right now.

The others seemed to circle you. They had worried looks on their faces, and their voices seemed to overlap as they spoke their concerns about the blood running down your chin.

Hank no.2 gently grabs your face, avoiding the blood, of course, and tilts it side to side. “You totally broke your nose man! Yikes…” he exclaimed with a grimace.

You softly swat his hand away, “Guys I’m fine. It’s just a little blood, and I feel like it would hurt more if I broke it.” You move your sleeved arm to try and stop the blood, but unfortunately, making it smear more.

“That's the adrenaline rush talking, babe! C’mon let’s get you patched up.” Hank no.1 announces, signaling the others to go get some supplies.

The next few hours are spent cleaning you up, deciding if you really had to go to the hospital, and getting coddled by the Hanks. No matter how many times you told them that you're okay and they “don't have to worry so much.” they seemed to only worry more.

One or more of the boys were next to you at all times. Either holding your hand or embracing you completely. At some point, you start to feel guilty that your taking up all of their trick time.

“Things like this happen all the time! It’s what we got our sponsor for hun!” Hank no.1 persists.

“Yea, we lowkey don’t mind helping you at all homie, it’s what we’re here for.” Hank no.4 agrees.

“We enjoy loving on you after all.” Hank no. 3 winks, a blush forming on his cheeks.

Guess if you can’t escape it, you might as well let it happen. You have a feeling that the Hanks are gonna have an eye on you for the rest of the day anyway. You suppose you don't mind as long it’s with them.

[sunsetmaneuver]

sick day - bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

bello minions here is something that's been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute i hope you enjoy <3 this is one of my favs i've written

i am in a creative rut rn so please send me requests if you have anything you'd wanna see written!! i'm working on a hangman request rn but i love to dip my toes into a lot of different projects at the same time (it's the raging adhd)

length: 1.6k words

warnings: sick!reader, comfort, concerned boyfriend!bradley, fem!reader, just fluff honestly, not proofread lol sorry

The room is spinning.

The room is spinning, and your head could crush through a cinderblock.

Has your nose always been this clogged? Has your skin always been this sweaty? Have your limbs always ached this bad?

"Fuck," You mutter to yourself, voice weak with congestion. You reach over to grab your phone off your nightstand as a chill racks through your body. You curl your legs up into your chest to try and preserve some warmth while your fingers work at finding Bradley's contact. Not so easy to do with shaking hands, by the way.

He answers on the third ring, right as you're about to hang up and send a text instead.

"Morning, darlin'," His voice drawls out sweetly, and you can hear his smile in his tone. This alone makes you feel a little better. You put the phone on speaker and pull the covers up to your chin, making yourself into a tight little ball.

"Hi, honey," You coo back, trying to sound as normal as possible, though the congestion in your nose probably gives it away. You didn't want to worry him at all while he was at training, but you couldn't keep this from him all day. Bradley, contrary to the tough front he tries to put up, is a worrywart. You know for a fact that if he came home and found you sick in bed, he’d throw a fit about you not telling him. "How's training--" You're cut off by your own sneeze, then another, and then another.

"Bless you. Three sneezes? Since when do you sneeze in increments of three?" Bradley teases, not bothering to stifle the laugh that escapes him. There are indistinct sounds in the background, and every so often, you can make out Hangman and Coyote laughing. He must be on lunch. You instantly feel guilty for calling.

"Since I woke up feeling like my head is a bowling ball," You sigh, shutting your eyes to try and soothe the headache brewing in your temples.

"Are you sick?" You can almost see his face as he speaks - eyebrows knit together and a deep frown.

"No, I think it's just a migraine," You lie. "I just... I wanted to call.”

Bradley, like always, sees right through your bullshit.

"Sweetheart, I love you, but you're a terrible liar," His voice is joking and gentle as he speaks, and the background chatter of the mess hall slowly begins to disappear until all you hear is a door closing. "Do you need me to come home?"

You can feel sleep trying to take over your body again. "Mmm..." You hum. "Stay at work, I'm fine."

"You sure? It's not a big--"

"Mhmm..." You don't mean to cut him off, but you know you have less than one minute before you're consumed by REM. "Stay at love you, I work."

"What?" Is the last thing you hear before being taken by the sleep demon.

**

You're sleeping very peacefully until being awoken by the sound of the bedroom door opening and heavy boots meeting hardwood. They stop at your bedside, and you're suddenly very aware of the presence crouching down next to you. You pry your eyes open, revealing Bradley, and bring your hands up to rub the sleep from them.

"How was work?" You croak out, trying to distract him from the matter at hand. He doesn't answer, just sticks his hand out to touch your forehead before retracting it quickly.

"Jesus Christ, do you know that you're burning up right now?" He shakes his head and brushes the hair from your forehead that's been slicked down with sweat.

"I'm actually quite cold, to be honest," You quip back, giving a weak smile. Bradley’s annoyed huff makes your face drop. You know he’s not upset that you're sick; he’s upset that you don’t take care of yourself when you’re like this. "Why'd you come home early? I told you to stay at work."

"Actually, you told me to stay at 'love you'. After hearing that delirious statement, I told Mav I needed to come check on you." His hand reaches back out, and he strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You don't look so good, sweetheart."

You shut your eyes and lean into his touch, sniffing every few seconds to try and clear the mucus from your nose. "I feel like shit." You finally admit.

"I'm gonna run to the store and grab some things, okay? Will you be good here by yourself?"

"Bradley, I have a cold, not the plague." Your eyes open for a moment just to glare playfully at him. He smiles at you, leans forward, and kisses your hair.

"Do you want chicken and wild rice, or chicken noodle?" Bradley mumbles against your head. You shrug under the covers.

"Surprise me."

**

Bradley returned about 20 minutes later and was very startled to see you sitting on the couch. Well, more like lying in an incredibly condensed ball with three throw blankets on your body. You couldn't even bring yourself to put anything on TV in fear it would make your headache worse.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He fires at you as soon as he walks through the door. He puts the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and makes his way into the living room, stopping in front of your place on the couch.

"I got bored," You mumble, half asleep.

"Y/n, you were asleep."

"I know. I got bored."

Bradley sighs again and returns to the kitchen, where he unpacks everything. "I got you both kinds of soup, by the way," He calls from the next room. You don't have it in you to answer, so you just let out a soft hum of acknowledgment. You fall back asleep.

**

When you wake up again, you're back in bed. There's a pile of blankets on you large enough to provide warmth to a small village, and DayQuil on the bedside table. Fuck. No.

"Bradley?" You call out hoarsely, the rough state of your voice taking you back a bit. The soft sounds of the TV in the living room halt and are replaced by footsteps. He appears within seconds, clad in sweatpants and his favorite sweatshirt, the one you bought for him the first Christmas you spent together. His hair is no longer styled; instead, it sticks up in every direction, soft brown waves now frizzy. He looks delicious.

"Everything okay, babe?" He asks from the doorway, not daring to move another step. You pout at the sight.

"I don't want to take the DayQuil, and you won't come near me." You can't even stop the way your voice comes out as a whine. You feel like a child.

"Babe, you have to take the medicine if you want to feel better," Bradley runs a hand over his face. "And if I get sick, it'll take me weeks to recover from it. I have a mission to train for." He gestures to you quickly before crossing his arms again. You huff and roll your eyes at him before fully pulling the blankets over your head, covering your face. You couldn't bear to watch him just stand there.

"Really?" He rebuttals, his tone housing a little humor in it. You can't help but grin to yourself when you hear him stifling a giggle.

"I'm mad at you now." You call out, not moving from your place. The air around you is still for a few seconds before the bed dips beside you. Pulling back the blankets, Bradley begins to attack your face with kisses as soon as he can access it.

"Are you still mad?" He mumbles against your skin, body hovering over yours. You can't control the laughter that comes pouring out of your frail body, content in nature despite the sickness that wreaks havoc on your poor immune system.

"Extremely," You wiggle your face away from him and catch your breath. "You're going to get sick if you stay by me."

Bradley thinks for a second, shrugs, and plants one last kiss on your lips, soft and tender. The feeling of him lingers even after he pulls away. Mocha brown eyes burning into yours, he softens visibly.

"I'll be fine. I'd spend the rest of my life sick in this bed if it meant I could spend it with you."

**

"Bradley. You're snoring." You grumble for the fifth time tonight, arm drawing up behind you, lazily hitting your boyfriend on the shoulder to wake him.

Your sickness came and went, right to poor Bradley, within 4 days.

After insisting that spooning tonight would help you both (him) preserve body heat, Bradley promptly fell asleep holding you from behind, lips pressed right against your ear. While usually you have no issues with this, when he's sick, he snores. Loud. Louder than usual. Louder than any human being or any living creature ever has before.

He hums, stirring slightly before tightening his grip on you. His face finds its way down to your neck, nuzzling its way in gently to rest. His snoring stops, and you, eventually, fall back asleep.

It took Bradley about 3 weeks to get over the cold you had passed to him, and he made it a point to remind you all 21 days that you owed him. You knew he didn’t really mind staying in bed on his off days with his beautiful girlfriend pressed against him, waiting on him hand and foot, so you let him tease you as much as he wanted.

Plus, he was right. That night, back pressed against his chest, was the warmest you'd been in a while.

[scorpioriesling]

🤍Please please please can we get an Azriel smut where he’s head over heels for you and you go to a formal event together and he can’t keep his hands off you all night and he pulls you away so he can have his way with you 🤍

Innocent Thoughts

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Modern!Azriel x reader

Warning(s): smut, 18+, mdni, nsfw

Summary: A fancy business event for your man does not go how you expected, especially when Azriel gets a little handsier than usual.

SR’s Note: I'm happy you guys are wanting more acotar content again (; That's what I began this account writing, and though I LOVE the empyrean stories, it's always nice to put acotar out there -- ESPECIALLY when it's Azriel. <3

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You knew something was up during the drive; the way his hand never left your thigh, and how he kept readjusting in his seat. He was nearly fidgety, and you'd been with your man long enough to know this behavior was atypical for him.

What really alerted you was his demeanor, especially as he talked with his superiors.

"So, we were considering the proposal submitted as far as changes coming in the 2026 fiscal year..."

His boss -- and luckily, one of his best friends too -- continued on, explaining a few important aspects of the job and the exciting new changes coming next year. You nodded politely as Azriel kept you tucked protectively into his side, his arm wrapped around the small of your back. His fingers lazily traced up and down the curve of your waist, the sensation through the silk fabric of your evening dress sending goosebumps across your skin. Rhysand didn't seem to notice, and if he did he ignored it -- but you couldn't.

You glanced upward, hoping to find an answer hidden in Azriel's expression. His face gave away nearly nothing, but you did notice the set of his jaw as he half-listened to his friend speak.

"That sounds great," Azriel responded, half-heartedly. Rhysand met your eye, and you simply shrugged. He leaned in, clapping Az on the shoulder before turning to glance at the extragavant dining table across the ballroom.

"I don't know where that head is at tonight," he said, his voice quiet. "And we're not here to talk business, I know -- but consider doing your lovely lady a kindness here. If you don't want to talk to me right now, fine; but please, take her to your seats and enjoy the wine we have tonight."

That must have pulled Azriel from his trance. Rhys clapped his shoulder once before moving to converse with others, and you waited only until he was out of earshot to approach the topic.

"Azriel," you said in a hushed whisper. He glanced down at you, his focus solely on you as you spoke. "What is going on with you tonight?"

He shrugged, shaking his head quickly at your words.

"Nothing, sweetheart -- I'm just fine."

A cocktail waiter passed with champagne glasses, and Azriel was quick to stop him. Taking two off the tray and handing one to you, he downed his entire flute in one go. Your brows narrowed as you studied him.

"You don't seem fine," you prodded, staring as he set the empty glass down on an empty high-top table. He sucked in a breath, his hand finding the small of your back. You shivered, his chilled fingertips brushing against the bare skin exposed there.

"C'mon -- let's sit," he suggested, guiding you toward the dining table and effectively dropping the subject. You sighed, trying to understand what could be bugging him so badly. He pulled out a chair, very gentlemanly as always. You took it, and sat beside him while still racking your brain.

How was he before you left tonight? Fine... handsy, sure. But overall, fine. He did the normal things he'd do, sitting with you while you got ready, kissing up your neck after you applied his favorite perfume...

The thought had you blushing. Maybe, if he'd had his way, the two of you would still be home, his head between your legs...

"Now who's the one acting weird?" Azriel said, his tone low and gravelly. You sucked in a breath, working to regain your composure. You cleared your throat, smiling politely as a waiter filled your wine glasses.

You spoke the minute he walked off. "I'm only acting weird because you're acting weird!" You defended, which only earned you a lopsided grin. Azriel sighed, placing his hand atop your knee.

"You really wanna know why I'm all worked up tonight?" He asked, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You grinned at the featherlight touch, catching a few awwed glances out of the corner of your eye. You nodded, and Azriel placed a tiny kiss against the skin of your neck.

"It's you," he said simply. You reared your head back in confusion, falling silent as the plates of food were set before you. Couples around the table had gone back to their own conversations, eating and talking with one another and in turn ignoring you and Azriel's.

"Me?" You asked, reaching for your fork. "Whatever have I done?"

He chuckled, patting your knee before straightening again in his chair. He picked up his fork and knife as though all was right in the world, hovering then above his uncut chicken breast.

"You keep me falling for you, more and more everyday." He explained, cutting into his meat. You paused, staring sidelong at him as he uttered the sweetest words you'd ever heard. "I'm crazy about you, and I think you know that by now -- some days, I just can't help my mind from wandering, you know?"

He popped a bite of chicken in his mouth, not addressing the newly presented implication. Glancing down, you finally noticed it; he was ignoring the growing need for you, and surely had been all night. Was it the dress? The perfume? What had him so worked up tonight?

"I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours -- and I can assure you, it's everything you're thinking and more."

･ﾟ: *✧

The lights in the bathroom were dim as you stumbled inside, Azriel hot on your heels. Sweat trailed down your chest and between the valley of your breasts, a product of the vigorous dancing you had done all night. Azriel engaged just as much, swaying and spinning you around to the beat of each and every song. That is, until the two of you reached your breaking point... at the same time.

"Give me that fucking mouth," he growled, his hands finding your hips as he spun you, pushing you against the bathroom door. He devoured you in an instant, his mouth molding so familiarly with yours as he pressed against you. Your hands instantly found his hair and tangled in it, soft moans slipping in the moments the kisses were broken. He groaned as he pressed his cock against you, his erection more than obvious through his well-tailored dress pants.

"Ohhhhh God," you whispered breathily, your fingers tugging softly at his deep brown locks as his lips moved from your mouth to your throat. The heat between your thighs grew more and more as he shifted his hips, rutting his cock in between your thighs. His lips parted, his teeth nipping and sucking at the soft patch of skin near your collarbone.

"Az... Azzie please," you panted, your hands gripping now at the collar of his button-down. His gaze lifted to meet yours, his pupils absolutely lust-blown.

"You've teased me all night, sweetheart," he muttered, his fingers trailing up your thighs and hooking around the lace bands of your underwear. "I'd do whatever you asked, I love you so fuckin' much."

You groaned at his words, your heart swelling and fluttering all at once as he tugged your panties down your legs. Eagerly stepping out of them, he chuckled and kissed your cheek.

"Good girl," he praised, pushing up the fabric of your silky dress to bunch it around your waist. He sucked in a breath at the sight of your bare cunt before him, and was quick to slot his knee between your thighs. You relaxed against the muscle of his leg, unintentionally clenching at the feel of his skin pressed against yours.

"God... Az-" You squeaked, rocking your hips against his muscled thigh. He grunted at the feel of you, his eyes glazing over as he watched you get off on nothing more than his leg. Your hands gripped the tops of his shoulders, clinging to the material of his shirt like a lifeline -- however, Azriel tired of the teasing in only a few minutes time.

"I can't play around anymore," he growled, his hands bracing your hips. He hoisted you up, pinning you against the door as you gasped at the lack of contact. His right hand left your waist, quickly unbuckling and ripping his belt off in the absolute sexiest fashion possible. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him tug his cock free -- and God, the sight of his beautiful, angry red tip had you nearly orgasming right there.

"I need you baby; right here, now," he grunted, aligning his cock with your entrance. His gaze found yours as he pushed his lips against yours again, slowly nudging your opening with his cock. When he pulled back, he only whispered one question; "Please put me out of my misery and take my cock? Can you do that, my love?"

You nodded quickly, eager for him to just fuck you already. He took the hint and entered you slowly, pressing deeper inch by glorious inch. You sighed as he finally sheathed fully inside of you, but your relief was short-lived. In an instant, he pulled out halfway, only to plunge his dick all the way back in.

"Yes! Az," you breathed, your fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt as he continued thrusting up into you. He grunted as he worked his cock into you, practically drinking in every little noise you made. His half-lidded gaze and messy hair didn't help as far as prolonging your orgasm, either.

He inhaled sharply, his fingers squeezing at your curves. He slid one hand beneath the curve of your ass, lifting one of your legs and wrapping it around his own waist.

"God, baby... feel so fuckin' good," he growled out, ramming his dick in even harder. You squealed over the feeling, your eyes rolling back in your head as his cock rubbed against your deepest spot. He leaned in, kissing and biting again at your neck as though you were his last meal.

Your eyes flew open as you felt your orgasm approaching, the usual restraint you reserved for it slipping as the various glasses of champagne finally made their way to your head.

"Az... Azriel you're gonna make me cum," you panted, watching as his tongue slid against the skin of your throat. He groaned then, gazing into your eyes as his thrusts began to slow.

His breaths began coming slower, small groans escaping as he held back his own release. Your jaw fell as you finally tumbled over the edge, crying out as you clung to Azriel. Your arms wound around his neck as you spasmed around his cock, the feeling returned a minute later as his length spasmed inside of you.

"Fuck! Oh fuck," he gasped, shoving his dick all the way in as he painted your walls white. His arms had wound around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he came inside of you. The bathroom fell silent as the two of you panted, sharing breath as you worked to come down from your highs. When you pulled back from him finally, you gazed into his deep brown eyes, your heart soaring as he gazed back at you with pure and undying adoration.

"You're unreal," he breathed, leaning in to kiss you softly. You giggled, sliding your lips against his. He pulled back a moment later, grinning as he swiped at your lower lip.

"I think you're unreal," you admitted, which made his smile grow. A smiling Azriel was a rarity, and one you wouldn't trade for the world's most uncommon gem. The two of you basked in the silence a moment longer, that was until a harsh knock came at the door.

"One second!" You called, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh. Azriel set you on your feet again gently, stooping to pick up your discarded panties as you worked to readjust your dress. Looking in the mirror, you were surprised to find only the flush on your face as a dead giveaway. Azriel bent at the knees, holding the bands of your undies for you to step back into. Grinning, you obliged, delighting in the way his velvety touch felt against your thighs.

When he stood, he sighed once before ruffling his own hair. His eyes found yours in the mirror, widening as yet another knock came from the other side of the door.

You turned, taking his hand in yours again.

"How do you expect me to go out there and pretend that like... I'm totally fine and I didn't just have one of the best sex sessions of my life?" You whisper-yelled. Azriel flashed you a grin, winking as he looked down at you.

"Guess you'll learn to fake those n ot-so-innocent thoughts. Trust me baby, I've been doing it all night."

･ﾟ: *✧

[houseofthedragonn]

Could we take care of Cregan when he is sick? I see a lot of his wife being sick but the Warden isn’t invincible, even if he believes he is.

WE TOTALLY CAN, you’re so right. if you want a fic i’ll try to post one later it’s just i’m out rn and like to write at home but here are some headcanons!! OKAY SICK! CREGAN X CARETAKER! WIFE BUCKLE UP

i feel like he would hate and love it:

i feel he would hate feeling so weak and powerless as he rarely falls ill, the picture or health, until mr. invincible thinks he can brave the Northern cold at the peak of a long winter without his cloak, even if only for a moment

in fact i see him getting sick for something so silly yet sweet like maybe the pups are too cold so he gives them his big cloak to huddle under by the fire, but one sneaks outside to play in the snow so he runs out after them

the next morning has the worst cough and chills and the maesters all order him to be on bedrest, which he detests because i see him as a very up and active, a man of action

but part of him secretly loves it because you insist on being the only one to primarily be his caretaker for the time being until he gets better, having trained at the Citadel being from a smaller vassal house in the reach

he loves having your undivided attention, but he hates the thought of you catching his sickness, and catching your death because of it, but you assure him what he has is not contagious after consulting many maesters and books

and even if it was, you tell him, “I’d gladly suffer this sickness with you, my love. Gods, let it take me before it ever takes you from me first—but that will not happen. I will not allow it.”

and you don’t, staying up all night mixing all sorts of teas and tinctures to help aid his ailing illness, and at first it seems like nothing is taking, until finally one morning he starts to seem a bit better, if only a little bit, it’s progress

his nasty coughing fits finally subside, and you’re just glad he never coughed up any blood, or was ever to weak to stand or eat, all good signs pointing towards his health

“Thank the gods for you, my love. If not for you, I don’t think even the best maesters of the citadel could cure me how you have. And never say you’d let the sickness take you first, I could go on living without you… but I promise, next time I will wear a cloak,” he laughs, giving you a kiss

after you run a wet towel over his handsome face glowing with sweat after his hot and cold fever had finally broken

“That is all I ask of you, my love. Even though you are the Warden, even though they call you the Wolf of the North, I hope you know even you, Stark—with the icy blood of the First Men coursing through your veins—cannot brave such a fierce Northern winter alone. So, yes, next time, please wear a cloak, if not for yourself, then for me?”

[tobeafangirl]

forbidden; feelings

Words: 3,272 Rating: M - language, smut (unprotected car sex), angst (super tiny fight), fluff Type: Harry Styles x Reader Part I ❀ Masterlist ❀ Requests ❀

“Don’t look at me like that.” You watched as Harry smiled hazily, his eyes trailing down your body. “Like what?” There was that voice, so soft and rugged, sending chills down your spine. “You know what like, and put some damn pants on, would you?” You sat up, quick to put your shirt on. 

It was almost 8AM, which meant it was almost time for school. This has become a little too normal for you. It always started with a late-night text which turned into stumbling into bedrooms and landing on either yours or his bed. Although, you couldn’t say that you weren’t having fun. That this hadn’t become a favorite reoccurrence of yours. He was not going to let you go that easily though, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you back into the bed, his lips automatically attaching themselves to your neck, a whimper was to follow. 

“Harry.” Your voice was stern, and his laugh against your skin caused you to shudder. “That’s not normally how you say my name baby.” You cursed yourself and you wiggled your way out from under him, his head hanging low in defeat. “School. We have that. Get dressed.” You wanted no more than to skip school for the day, hell, the week and just be in Harry arms but reality was a problem and unfortunately you lived in it.

“Not even a hand job?” He protested as he began to get dressed, you sighed. How was he the one you found attractive? There were other cute boys who weren’t so, well, Harry. It had to be those damn eyes, he could make any girl weak with just a look and you had fallen victim to that. Part of you didn’t mind. “Well since you said it like that, no.” You smirked, biting down on your lip as you opened his door and made your way downstairs. You were thankful his mum had started working a late shift at her job, it worked better for you to come to Harry versus him trying to come to your house. 

Also, it meant that you didn’t have to keep silent, because that was such a problem with him. It should be illegal. You could hear Harry trailing behind you as he made his way down the stairs as well. This was the worst part of the day, when you two got into separate cars and arrived at school at the same time but never with each other. It was not that what was going on between you two was a secret, no, it couldn’t be. Not with the way Harry would grab you in the hallway in front of everyone, kissing you against the nearest locker without caring who saw. It's just that, you weren’t together. Not in a relationship. Just hooking up. However you want to say it, it was not where you wanted to be, but you were too busy being happy with just being somewhere, you hardly noticed.

He had also broken up with his girlfriend, or well, maybe she just got the hint? Regardless, if he was asked about her, he just shrugged. 

Zayn was leaning against your locker waiting for you. This was a new thing but a frequent thing. It was like he took turns, one day at Harry locker and another at yours. Like a kid going between divorced parents. “Please do not give me any details.” He said when you were close enough to hear him. 

“Gross – Wait, does Harry give you details?” Zayn shrugged at your question. “He’s getting laid, it’s a guy thing.” You made a face of disgust. “A guy thing that I will be bringing up the next time I see him.” You couldn’t say you were surprised. Not that you minded Harry telling Zayn because you could understand that, but it better be to Zayn and Zayn only or you and he were going to have more issues than you already did. 

“If you beat him up, can I watch?” Zayn smiled as you grabbed the things you needed from your locker. “You could, but honestly it would probably just turn into a whole make-out session and once we kiss, eh, you can figure out the rest.” You two began to walk towards your first class, passing by Harry in the process. He smirked at you, but you gave him a stern look in return. That look was met with a confused one from him, but you hid your smile as you changed your attention back on Zayn who was ranting about how Kira had yet to text him back from yesterday. Boys, they are all just a bunch of girls.

Lunch time came quickly, and you were met with the accusing eyes of Harry at your usual table. This was one of the highlights of the new part, you two ate together, with Zayn of course, but still together. “What?” You asked, sitting your tray down of food that you probably weren’t going to touch but Harry would eat from eventually. “What was that look from earlier?” He was leaning into the table, his voice hushed like he was telling you a secret, it was almost as if he was worried, but you played it off. 

You looked at him amused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He leaned back, eyes knowing as he nodded. “Are you sure about that?” And there were those eyes again, deep and dark and ready to pounce. “Pretty sure.” You concluded. “It’s the love birds, looking like they are about to eat each other’s face off, do you mind if I eat first because I want to be able to keep it all down.” You could hear Zayn talking, but your eyes didn’t leave Harry, as if you two were five having the most intense staring contest. 

“Yeah that’s great, Zayn” Harry stood, giving you a look before walking to a place you were all too familiar with. You got up and followed pursuit. “And you two are leaving, okay.” Zayn was left nodding to himself as you followed Harry to the gym.

As soon as the door closed his lips were on yours, frantic just like prom night. You two had only been in here one time after prom, this place just brought back memories. A gym room storage closet, how romantic. His hands were already traveling up your shirt, quick and in a rush. “So, is Zayn going to find out about this too?” You asked in a breathless manner, his lips were now on your neck leaving a spot for you to cover up later. 

“So, there is something bothering you.” And for the first time Harry stopped. Stopped kissing, hands idle, shocked would be an understatement. “No – no.” You tried to reassure, to resume what had stopped, but he wasn’t quite done. “I’ll keep our sex capades between us for now on, if you want.” This was a serious Harry, a Harry that most people probably didn’t know existed. Well, maybe Zayn, but that’s about it. “Uh – Yeah?” It came out as a question, all because you were very confused. It's not like Harry didn’t care but, well, he didn’t care. “Okay, now take that shirt off princess, we only have fifteen minutes left.” And he was back in a blink of an eye.

***

It was a few days later and you were in your room arguing with your friend. She had agreed to go on a date with a guy from school, and he was bringing a friend. You were slumped over your bed, hanging upside down like a bat as she explained why it was completely okay if you go, you know, as just a ‘friend’. “Harry is great, yes. You two are cute but let’s be honest. You two are not together and so why should you sit at home alone on a Friday night when you can be with your friend and a potentially cute guy? What if we go and you have a great time. Then you can be in an actual relationship instead of well, a sexual one.” 

You never wanted to yell at someone as much as you wanted to yell at her right now. However, a part of you knew she was right, you just sat here on weekends, waiting for late-night calls. It was time to be a teenager, have fun for once. Maybe not to the point of something happening with this mystery guy but just to go out. “Okay, but this isn’t a date. This is me going out for the weekend. Just a little fun. So, don’t get this guy's hopes up. Deal?” Your friend squealed at your response “Deal!”

Around an hour after getting ready your phone rang. You didn’t think much about it until Harry's name popped up on display. That was weird, it was way too early for him to call, his mum still had to be home. And Harry was not the type to call to ‘chat’ for a little while. 

You answered hesitantly, “Hello?” The confusion was strong in your voice and he could tell that as his laughter rang through. “Hi, gorgeous.” That was a new one, but not unlike Harry. You took a seat on your bed, smiling to yourself. “What do I owe this pleasure?” You would play his little game. Besides you had plans and you weren’t one to cancel, so turning down whatever sex-offer you received would be fun, and it would make more fun for later. 

“Are you busy?” There was a hint of something in his voice, a kind of tone you didn’t pick up on. “Why? Has your dad left already?” Another laugh. “No, he is roaming in the kitchen. Nah, I thought uh – maybe you could come over early? I’m sure we can find something to do until he leaves.” Did Harry want you to come over and hang out? Just like, be in each other’s presents with clothes on?

You and Harry had conversation before, it was not just sex all the time, but it was a majority of the time. “Oh. I kind of told my friend I’d hang out with her. I think we are going to that stupid shake place that just opened. I can totally cancel though, it’s not a big deal.” It really was not a big deal, you would rather spend your time with Harry, although part of you did not believe you were admitting that. Even to yourself. “No, you go ahead, have fun. I’ll still see you tonight though, right?” He sounded a little defeated, but you tried to let it slide. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

So far, your night was not going so well. This guy was clingy and didn’t understand this was a lack of a date. He had his arm around you, and you’ve had to have shrugged it off at least ten times now. It wasn’t that he was not a nice guy, he seemed great, but you could not get Harry off your mind and honestly would rather be with him at this moment. 

“(Y/N), what are you doing? At least act like you’re having a good time!” You’ve heard this at least three times from your friend, so you turned to have a casual conversation with the boy next to you. It was a nice break, turning to look at him got his arm off your shoulder, but still seemed to entertain him properly. 

”Seems like you guys are having a good time.” That voice was familiar, and it caused you to sit up straight. You slowly turned around and your face met with Harry. “Hey.” Your voice was soft, lost, but Harry did nothing but nod. He looked hurt, something you never thought you would see on his face, something you never wanted to see on his face again. 

“Have a good night.” He said simply, turning and walking away from you. “Wait.” Confusion was plastered on your face, a new constant reaction to everything that was Harry. Without thinking you got up and followed him outside, the rain was pouring, and you were unsure of when it started.

“Harry!” You shouted after him and he turned to face you quickly, face pulling tightly in hurt as he pointed towards the door behind you. “What the hell was that?” He was obviously mad, and you knew why, you weren’t stupid, but it still didn’t make perfect sense. “What are you talking about?” You stayed quiet, voice still soft, he has enough anger in him for the both of you. 

“You’re in there with some guy, basically on a date – have you, have you been seeing him this whole time? Is this –” He motioned between the two of you “Just something on the side.” Your head was in a rush, mind absent as you could not gather your thoughts. “Do you really think that of me? That I would do that? Are you kidding me?” 

It was your turn to be mad. “I don’t know what I think of you right now. You know I thought we were getting along, having a good time. Thought you were different.” Your eyebrows knitted together at his words. Have you just been confused all along? “You can’t do that. You can’t turn this all around as if I am the problem. Commitment has never been your thing, I knew that coming into this. You can't just flip the script on me without a warning. I don’t know what you want.”

“What do I want? What do I want?” His voice was softer now, and it was because he was so close. This was the first time you really looked at him. The rain was cascading down his face, his hair flat against his forehead. But those eyes stayed sharp as they bore into your soul. You wondered how you looked in his eyes and if he found you as beautiful and you did him. 

“I want you.” Those were words you often heard come out of Harry's mouth, but not in that way. 

It was much more than lust, you would even go as far as to say this boy was smitten with you. It made you smile as you felt familiar strong hands wrap around you, bringing you into a kiss that embodied much more passion than it should have. You whimpered, body going weak as his tongue wasted no time in entering your mouth, exploring hungerly. You kissed back with every particle of you, pressing your body into his as if you were trying to melt into him. Your back was pressed against something, the wall? Maybe the door? You wondered how many people were watching, if anyone, and were they going to come outside to get you two to stop?

You couldn’t think about it much longer because Harry picked you up in one swift motion, carrying you to where he was parked close by. You held him close as he carried you, arms around his neck as you placed soft kisses down his jawline. His car was in sight and the door was practically ripped open when you got to it. 

He placed you in the back, lifting his shirt over his head as he climbed in himself. The door shutting was drowned out by his lips back on yours, it sent a wave through your body and you were aching to take your shirt off, to feel his skin on your skin. Harry must have been reading your mind because soon your wet shirt had met the floorboard, his hand roaming your damp body. You might have been uncomfortable if you weren’t distracted, your wet clothes feeling tighter as your body began to warm at Harry touch. His lips on your neck, his hands sliding down your legs as he took off your jeans, this boy had you on cloud nine and he hadn’t even touched you yet. “Harry” There was a beg in your voice, you needed him. “Shhh.” He hushed you, but you could feel his smirk as he unclasped your bra.

Relief filled you as your bra was discarded, now nearly fully naked in front of this man, he took a moment to admire your body, to touch every part of you besides where you needed to be touched. You damned him for having so much control. “Fucking beautiful.” You wanted to tell him to shut up, or to laugh, but as soon as those words left his mouth, his head dipped low planting small kisses down the valley of your breast. 

You let out a sigh, fingers tangling in the back of his hair. He began to kiss up the side of your breast before taking your nipple into his mouth, slowly massaging it with his tongue. “Fuck” You moaned, tugging lightly at his hair. He hummed at that, sending gathered heat straight down to between your thighs. 

“Please Harry – I can’t. I need you inside of me.” He let out a grunt, his lips moving back up and for the first time you could feel how hard he was, you couldn’t stop yourself from ripping off his jeans. “Damn, baby” He muttered into your ear, he didn’t even take the time to take off your underwear, just pulled them to the side, the lust finally getting to him as his eyes grew darker.

The first thrust inside of you was enough to send you over the edge, but you tried to hold on for him, your head hitting the door behind you. You were in complete ecstasy, Harry hips moving at a pace where you were sure the car was rocking. Never ending moans were leaving your lips and his uneven breathing was close to your ear. 

Your head was lightly hitting the door with each thrust, and if you weren’t so lost in everything Harry, you’d probably take a moment to complain but instead you whispered a low “Don’t stop.” Into his ear, causing his pace to quicken and his thrust to deepen. You could feel it inside of you, the constant burning that was ready for release. 

“(Y/N)” He let out the softest moan and it nearly pushed you over the edge. Nails going down his back, teeth digging into your lip, you pulled him closer, “Can I cum?” You asked politely, catching Harry off guard to the point where he almost stilled. His lips connected to yours again, another passionate kiss that you would surely dream about later. “Only if you say my name.” His voice was like a growl, and you were more than willing to give him what he wanted.

“Harry” You repeated, his name being a chant. His thumb found its way down to your bundle of nerves, moving in circles as you gripped onto the seat for support. You felt your body shake, seeing nothing but white as your orgasm washed over you. You could hear yourself but couldn’t stop from making so much noise, leaving you gasping for breath. Harry thrust began to become shaky, unsteady as your tightness became too much for him, pushing him over the edge as well as he let out one of the cutest moans you had ever heard. It was almost enough for you to go another round. He laid his head on your shoulder, his weight shifting onto yours as you two laid there with nothing but pants being exchanged. “I like you.” Harry said, a small laugh escaped you. “Yeah, I hope so.” You said as your lips met in another kiss.