#I AM PERHAPS OVERTHINKING THIS A BIT

[altschmerzes]

ao3 tagging conundrums they will never end

[astrxealis]

sometimes (often) i think about the characters i kin or relate to and then the realization comes in again and again that i need therapy (/lh?)

[deathxproof]

technically I get out of work early (compared to my usual schedule) tomorrow so I’m…. Hoping to get some writing done. or I could pass out as soon as I’m home from work because wake up early. who’s to say.

[beloved-diary]

So he fronted, he was laying on me when he was cause other alter was. Told him to immediately get off me an he said i was warm an why should he. Ended up getting up an away. I left the room awhile later. He kinda kept talking to me till i told him to leave. Which he did.

[etfrin]

⤷❝Jealous, jealous girl | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, toxic relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, fucked up thoughts, toxic! jealous! possessive reader, bondage (eyes and hands), dom sub undertones, face riding, cunnilingus, thigh riding, riding, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), mentions of killing | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young! president Snow x fem! reader

⇢☾Summary: being jelly leads to sexy times!

⇢☾A/N: hope y'all enjoy this!

previous installments of AM au: the study, mine to love, the quiet gift

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

He didn't take account of your possessiveness when he decided to charm some of the elitists of the Capitol. It was his duty to keep them under his pocket whether it be with empty smiles or deadly threats. Though the latter might have been easier with how you were glaring at everyone who made a passing or suggestive comment towards Coriolanus.

Even with his arm around your waist, you pressed against him wasn't enough to satiate you. His presence wasn't enough to calm you down, not when you wanted to burn down everyone in the gala who looked at Snow with lustful eyes. He was taken. He was your husband. Yours.

Coryo didn't realize what was wrong, surely it was obvious that you were in a bad mood but that was no way to behave. He had to talk with his pet.

And he was planning on that when he entered the room, to see you on the phone, a call that you immediately cut and look at him with a smile that cut through his bones because he knew it was fake. It was a smile he had to wear a thousand times and now you were looking at him the same way.

“What was that call?” He asked roughly, his eyebrows furrowing, his fingers twitching, his mind already thinking of locking you up and wondering if you had found a lover. He- he-

“It was just-” You tilt your head, your mind already figuring out his thoughts, your first instinct was to lie. However, you knew better than that.

“I want to fuck someone over,” you said instead, blunt and straight to the point without any riddles so that your husband doesn't overthink it. He.. he felt himself calm down a bit. “Who?” He asked his mind at ease. Has someone hurt you? Insulted you? It was rare for you to take such actions, especially when Coriolanus made sure no one could mistreat you.

You bite your lower lip, wondering if you should lie. Snow hadn't seen your ugly side as much as you have seen him. But… perhaps it's about time he should and you were angry. At him and everyone who dared their lustful eyes and filthy hands on your man (You wanted to claw their eyes out, you wanted to cut their hand off for such a sin). Corio called you his dove, his pet, his property. But he seems to forget that he is also yours, your husband, your lover, your man. It was time to remind him of that.

You walked towards him until he backed up to the door, it was a position that you both knew except he was the one pinned for a change. “A bitch,” you ended up saying, your fingertips grazing his sharp jawline. His eyes widened, a familiar heaviness to his breathing and his pupils began to dilate. “Which bitch?” He said, turning his face away to focus and not kiss your pretty lips. “The one who couldn't take her hands off what's mine,” you whispered, your hands on his customized suit, pushing the fabric away from his shoulder and letting it fall. Then your fingers were busy twisting the buttons so you could see this man's golden skin, but the action was stopped when Corio softly asked, “Yours?”

Even if his tone was soft, you knew better than to believe it. Coriolanus Snow belonging to someone? He couldn't think of a worse joke, that just made you even more frustrated, so frustrated that you don't bother unbuttoning his buttons. You begin to rip them one by one. Coryo allows you to act in this manner, knowing that you need to deal with this in your own way.

“I am not yours,” he said, “I don't belong to you.” You wanted to slap the man. You never had a greater urge too before. You clenched your jaw, “You are.” Your hand goes to the pendant you always wore after your first anniversary. A necklace with his initials.

“It’s a two-way street, Coriolanus Snow. You're my husband, my man, and my lover. I am yours as much as you are mine,” your fingers grip the chain, “Or I can tear this from my neck and walk away.” Coryo was going to punish you for those words, there was no doubt about it. His eyes, those blue ocean eyes had anger in them now. How dare you threaten, Snow?

You waited for an answer, both of your chests heaving with passion waiting to explode. “Threaten to leave again, I'll break those legs of yours and chain you to the bed.” Your breath hitches from his words, the truth ringing in his voice. This insane man… you had no words to say so you didn't. You pressed him to the door, your lips clashing with his. For the first time, you didn't give in to the fight for dominance. Both of your teeth clashing, the tongues fighting in war and neither side winning but becoming a greater mess.

“You're a coward, Coryo,” you whispered as you were pushed back to the bed, neither of you giving up the fight to control the kiss. You refused to be underneath him for him tonight. Coriolanus Snow owned you and you wanted the taste of owning him. You manage to straddle him, saliva covering both of your chins from the messy kiss neither refusing to break.

“You- how dare you let her touch you like this,” you whispered, a hint of insecurity creeping into your sound. “They can look at you all they want, envy all they want but touch is reserved for me only. For me, Coryo. Next time it's brought to my attention that you let yourself be groped like that whether it be for your interests or Panem. Rest assured they won't be seeing the sun again and every inch of your skin that was touched…” You couldn't complete the threat, not when his eyes widened. Coriolanus felt like he was looking in a mirror.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you hissed, “There is a reason why we work out, sweetheart. It's not because of whatever formulas you have in your mind to control me, to have me. It's because I am just as insane as you, if not more but I have an infinite amount of control over myself.”

He was thinking, thinking of what you didn't know. You didn't want to know what epiphany had crushed the man from your honest words filled with ugly deep jealousy. You didn't want to let yourself wonder either if he would have preferred someone sane, someone less jealous and possessive. Someone opposite of him in every regard.

But Snow leans forward to kiss you. It's… delicate the kiss. A brush of his soft lips against yours, a grin blessing his face. “What?” You whispered, hesitantly. “You’re perfect,” he said, and those words did things to you, nearly enough to melt away your anger. Nearly.

“And your perfection is aggravating,” you said, with each word a kiss was pressed to his lips. “I love you,” you whispered, a wet kiss pressed to his jaw that went down the path of his neck to his pulse. Your hands shamelessly undress him. “But you truly vex me, Coryo.” you let out as you bite the spot of his pulse, sucking his life from his skin, formatting a bruise, marking him as yours.

“Calm down,” he grunts as he also undresses you, his touch on your heated skin damning you to hell. “I am here, pet.” Finally, both of you were unrestricted by clothes, lips clashing with each other as the hands roamed the body in a hurry. Neither of you was going to disappear, but the desperation as if one of you would slip away like sand clawed at both of your minds.

You didn't reply to his reassurance, you pushed him till his back was pinned on the mattress and he let you. For once you were in control and you had no idea what to do with it. You bite your lip, pondering what should be the next course. You wanted to ride him, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted him to regret it. But most importantly you wanted him to realize he is addicted to you too, as you are with him.

So you pulled back, ignoring the flash of confusion on his face, and went to the closet to pick out two ties. One red, another black, both gifts from you. Coryo raised his eyebrows but indulged you without saying a word, knowing that he would get you back for it. You let him sit up, as you tied his hands together behind his back and then tied the blindfold around his eyes.

“Let me play with you today, Coryo,” you said, “It will be fun.” Coryo replied with a warning, “Do not cross the line.”

You were never an obedient pet. You placed your cunt on his thigh, your folds soaking with arousal, your walls needing his cock but you ignored the want as you began to grind yourself slowly against the tense muscles of his leg. “Coriolanus Snow, the perfect man, the perfect student, the perfect president. Tell me Coryo, would you consider yourself a perfect husband?” “Sweetheart,” he warns you, not ready to hear whatever criticism you want to spew. He could never be a perfect man, perfect in the sense of good and bad. He couldn't but that doesn't mean he has to face it.

“I think you are,” you whispered to his ear, causing him to relax visibly, it was rather pathetic how quickly your admission of yours made his cock fucking hard, harder than before. Your pussy continues to grind against his thigh, your hips rolling at a relaxed pace as you coat his skin in your juices. “You’re perfect in every sense of the word,” you praised him, your lips set on creating multiple shades of mark on his shoulder and collarbone.

He didn't need your words, he didn't know your praises yet a groan escaped his lips. His breath is heavier than before as your grinding gets faster. “Let me see you,” he whispered, and you wanted to deny him. You did but you knew he wanted to know if you were lying, manipulating him in any manner and you weren't cruel enough to play that game with him. You took off the blindfold from his eyes and the vulnerability that showed in his blue eyes made you so wet, your pussy clenching around nothing and he could feel the spasm on his thigh.

His eyes search yours for a hint of a lie, he doesn't find any. Both of your lips met for a kiss, knocking us breathless as you wrapped your arms around his neck and began to roll your hips faster on his thigh, getting close to a high. Meanwhile, his cock was leaking onto his abs, thick goops of pre-cum that you swipe on your fingertips and lick as you don't give any attention to his length. A sound you couldn't classify leaves Coriolanus's lips as he watches you taste himself.

It felt perfect, you teasing him like this. You are in control, despite Coriolanus' not-so-subtle attempts to get rid of the knot that tied his hands together. ‘I am in control, love,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue instead and sucked on the sweet spot of his jaw. “Wanna sit on your face,” you whispered to him.

“Fuck, fuck, dove” he cursed before he nods. You maneuver him into the position, your cunt mere inches from his greedy mouth that had already started teasing your folds with kitten licks that you mewling with need. “Coryo,” you whispered, pleading to be completely honest as you lowered yourself down onto his face. His tied arms above his head, your fingers laced with his (the safe word being three squeezes if you end up suffocating him). Your pussy finally reached its destination, finding his lips and his tongue. The slaughter of your sanity had begun.

He was so messy with this, it surprised your soul. His licks weren't long and calculated per usual but short, teasing like that had you bucking your hips onto his face. You try to be careful, you swear you do but all was lost in your hazy pleasure. You moan his name, again and again, and Coriolanus gets high off it. The power you hand him without realizing, the control you give him of your pleasure.

“Coryo!” you cry out, your movements getting fervent. You were close to snapping from riding his thigh, from the high and adrenaline of the situation. It wasn't hard to shatter, your cunt gushing out juices as your walls began to spasm. The orgasm turns your bones into jelly but you have work to do. You have shattered but you yet hadn't broken Snow.

Coryo hums against your folds, licking all the juices up, nipping and kissing your clit with such attention, it sends shivers down your spine. You pulled yourself off of his face, and your pussy begins to ache again because of how debauched he looks. His mouth gasping, his face shining with your arousal all over his chin, beads of your juices dripping down his skin. You closed your eyes, getting your senses back to you.

You let out a shaky breath yourself and you bring him back to a sitting position, one of your hands on his nape and another finding his cock. He lets out a groan of relief and pleasure as you squeeze his girth with your fist. You stroke his cock several times and coat his length with his pre-cum. “Gonna ride you, baby,” you whispered to him, your lips meeting his, and you moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself.

You placed yourself on his lap, one of your hands going to his tied wrists, playing with the knots unaware that a lot of it has come loose. You don't even realize it as you were too busy sinking on his cock, your other hand in his hair, gripping the blonde curls rather roughly.

Coryo leans forward, pushing his face between your breasts, his tongue licking stripes of your salty skin and his teeth digging into the sides of your supple flesh making you let out a sharp moan. Your hold on his hair gets tighter, as you adjust to his twitching length inside of your sensitive walls. His lips catch the pendant, the only thing you are still wearing. You look down to watch him suck the ‘S’ in his mouth and you whimper from the sight, your pussy clenching around his cock.

By now your fiddling with his tied wrists had completely untied the knots, something you didn't realize as you became drunk on him. You place your head on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips. Snow lets you control the pace, not letting you know he is free of his bounds. He takes and takes whatever you give him even as his balls tighten with the urge to come. He bites his lower lip to stave off the urge. Second by second, minute by minute passes as your bodies get hotter and hotter, waiting to burn the brightest.

“Coryo,” you begin to whisper, “You're mine, right?” This time the insecurity in your voice was clear, something that would make you cringe later. This time Coriolanus takes control.

His hands find themselves kneading the flesh of your hips, stopping you from fucking yourself on his cock. You freeze in surprise, your eyes widening. “It’s our wedding ring I wear every day. If that doesn't hold any value to you. Don't you dare ask me that question again?”

“Now fucking cum on my cock, pet,” he said, his eyes turning into snake-like slits, “Don't think I'll forget of your behavior tonight, baby.” You swallow nervously, but Coryo says he is yours, not in those exact words but it was Coryo, he was never known for straight words anyway.

You begin to ride him again, picking up pace as you keep slamming down on his cock, his cockhead kissing your cervix from this position. Your hands go to his shoulder to use as leverage as you continue to fuck yourself on him. “My love,” you moan as you felt yourself getting close over the edge, from how his dick was throbbing inside your cunt, you could tell he was close too. He wedges a hand between the both of your connecting bodies and his fingers find your puffy oversensitive clit and he begins to play with the bud making you cry out.

“That's it, dove,” he whispered, smirking, “Cum on my cock, you're the only one in this entire universe with that privilege.” You whimper, feeling your pussy spasm on his cock repeatedly as all the tension leaves your body. He shallowly thrusts into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

You turn into jelly on his lap, your cunt twitching occasionally from oversensitivity. He turns you over so you are laid down on the bed, and he hooks up your legs on his shoulders.

He leans down, his hand gripping your jaw as his lips brush against yours and he says, “Time for your punishment, doll. You had your chance to indulge, my pet. It's my turn now.”

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964 @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

I'm curious as to how the JL would react to this scenario with assistant!reader:

____________

Some hoe (probably John Constantine): Hello gorgeous, ya' free after this?

Reader: I only date rich men and supermodel women *walks away sassily*

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

I imagine Diana would get a supermodel gig and reader would sudenly bump into Bruce Wayne at her usual café, but since she was just tryna get the hoe off her back before they are in for a surprise.

But I wanna know what you think would happen ❤️

1-Well, Reader didn't reject the JL in a blunt way like that bc they're their bosses, so they (the yanderes) might overthink that they have a chance, a chance that Constantine didn't have. Unless we're considering that John Constantine is on Justice League Dark, which maybe would make him one of our bosses too somehow, or maybe not, I don't have a deep enough knowledge about Justice League Dark.

If we desconsider this detail, the members of the League who aren't rich get humbled soooo quickly!!! They're devastated!!!

And Constantine? No one's ever letting him get close to you again.

2-Okay, first of all, if Diana becomes a model and approaches Reader, whitout Reader knowing she's Wonder Woman, or Bruce approaches, whitout Reader knowing he's Batman, I personally wouldn't reject them, even if Bruce Wayne's known for being a slut, you can just have something casual and enjoy his money, until he says "thank you, next!" Of course, we know their real intentions, so Reader would probably fall for that and now Reader's screwed.

... Unless, we take in consideration your little implication at the end. They would be even more devastated, they thought it was finally happenning!! Also, if Reader's being so good at hiding relationships, perhaps they aren't paying enough attention, they're missing opportunities, they have to fix that.

Bad news, the last bit of privacy you had is gone.

3-Now now now, if they tell you their identities like "Batsy: heard you like rich men *takes the cowl off* I am Bruce Wayne" and "WW: Darling, I heard what you said the other day. I could easily become a model as Wonder Woman, but if you prefer more privacy, I'm sure I can do it in my civillian identity. Agents are always trying to cast me"

Not much to say, they're getting dumped.🤷🏻

[writingquestionsanswered]

Describing Scene Locations

Anonymous asked: I've been writing for a decade, mostly short stories, and have recently started writing a fantasy set in the 17th century. My setting is a world pretty much like ours, but with made-up names for specific towns and whatnot. The characters are pirates, and a few are non-human. I'm finding it difficult to figure out where certain plot points take place when the story is mostly character-driven. There are parts where they need to be on land, but apart from 'vague port/island', I don't know what else to do with it. (Am I overthinking this?) I suppose my question is: How specific do secondary locations have to be for it to be immersive and realistic (for their world) without it being lackluster or overdone? I don't want it all be "it's a beach with a village," but adding a giant seaside kingdom seems overkill if it's only mentioned in passing once or twice. Thank you so much for taking the time to answer these - this whole blog is a gift, really.

[Ask edited for length]

First, thank you... that is very kind of you to say! ♥

So, I think it really helps to think of your story in terms of scenes, and to think of each scene almost like a scene in a play. Your scene's setting is like the stage in the play, and the amount of description is the amount of scenery and props on the stage.

If you've been to plays, you've probably noticed that the scenery can be very minimal or very elaborate, depending on the needs of the show:

With fiction, it works the same way. How little or how much you describe the scenery (setting) depends on the needs of the scene, but you do need to make sure to give the reader a sense of place. Looking at the first image, just with the little bit of scenery that's there, we know this scene is taking place in a home, perhaps a living room. If the two men were just sitting on chairs with no other scenery, we wouldn't have that sense of place.

However, that doesn't mean that any of your scenes need to be set in sprawling seaside kingdoms. There are all sorts of land-based settings for pirates:

-- bustling port town like Port Royal or Tortuga -- coastal village, town, or city -- isolated island or cove -- small fishing village -- seaside castles or estates -- pirate's stronghold on a hidden island/cove/cave/bay -- tropical jungle or rainforest -- remote island -- colonial outpost -- swamps and marshlands -- rural countryside -- ancient ruins

There are all sorts of reasons pirates might go ashore in these places:

-- to resupply (food, water, liquor, gunpowder, ammunition) -- to buy specific items (weapons, clothing, equipment for ship) -- to sell, trade, deliver, hide, or bury loot -- to hunt and gather resources -- to recruit crew -- to maintenance, repair, or refit the ship -- to meet with allies, informants, business partners, etc. -- to visit friends/acquaintances -- to avail themselves of various goods and services -- to drink in a bar, gamble and carouse with friends -- to enjoy some much needed rest and recreation -- to learn or exchange information -- to seek medical treatment/medicine/remedies -- to seek legal assistance or meet to discuss legal matters -- to "case" a potential target for a raid -- to visit family and love interests

Within these settings and potential errands, there are many specific settings you could use:

-- the docks of a bustling port -- the tavern of a coastal village -- a quiet moonlit cove where pirates are laying low -- the great hall of a seaside castle -- a masquerade ball at a country estate -- the crumbled ruins of an ancient civilization in an isolated jungle -- at a freshwater lagoon on a remote island during resource stop -- busy market at a colonial outpost -- fisherman's shanty in a quiet bayou -- an official's luxury town home in a big city -- the coastal farm belonging to a family member

So... having the different locations in mind, how much or how little do you describe them? Once again, all you have to do is create a sense of place for the reader. If your pirates are having a heated argument on the docks of a busy port town, you may at least want to give a vague description of the docks, whether it's night or day, what the weather's like, how crowded it is, and maybe a brief sampling of what the crowd is doing, notable sensory details (sounds, smells, visuals) etc. You can also weave those details into the narrative in a way that serves a dual purpose. For example, maybe in the argument, one pirate gestures to a toothless fish monger and uses them as an example in a point they're trying to make. Not only is this a necessary part of the dialogue, but it also fills in some of the scenery detail. Or, maybe instead, they're perusing spices in a bustling seaside market while they talk/argue quietly. Here are some posts from my description master list that will hopefully help further:

The Right Amount of Description (5 Tips!) The 3 Fundamental Truths of Description Description: Style vs Excess/Deficiency How to Make Your Description More Vivid Adding Description to Your WritingWeaving Details into the Story Guide: Showing vs Telling When “Telling” is Okay

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[cheeseceli]

When your parents don't like them

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!Reader (individually)

Genre: reverse hurt/comfort? Angst? A little bit of fluff perhaps; reaction

Description: their reaction to not having the approval of your parents in their first meeting (established relationship)

Warnings: not proofread; a lot of overthinking and self doubt in most of the scenarios; the length of each story is not favouritsm!! It's just that some scenarios required more details than others

A/n: I should have posted this one a long time ago... Oh well. And I am literally the mix of Han and Lee Know, this would 100% happen to me if I were in their shoes

Bang Chan

‌HE'S SO SHOCKED

‌Parents always love him, so why didn't yours?

‌He believes he took it for granted

‌But he was so sure your family would love him

‌Rethinks everything he said and did

‌And thinks about what he could've done

‌He'll be up all night because of it, you better believe me

"Maybe it's the outfit I was wearing?"

"Chan, for God's sake, go to sleep."

"Seriously though, do you think my clothes weren't appropriate?"

"There was nothing wrong with how you looked baby."

"... So maybe I didn't introduce myself properly?"

"Chan."

Lee Know

‌ He knew he had to talk

‌ But it turns out he was too scared

‌And your parents just aggravated his problem

‌ He'd give only short answers and would only speak when spoken with

‌ Because of that your parents didn't see him as a really charismatic guy

‌ But I swear he was trying his best

"I swear it wasn't as bad as it seemed."

"It was horrible. I doubt any of your parents even know what my voice sounds like."

"You were nervous. I'm sure they'll understand. If you'd like I can talk to them about it."

"Please, don't. The last thing I want is for your parents to think that besides being awkward I'm a coward as well."

"They don't think either of those things. You'll see, you guys just need to know each other a little bit more. They'll love you."

Even with his worried expression, he gave you a small smile "I hope so".

Changbin

‌ You warned him he was getting too close

‌ He was holding your hand, caressing your thigh, hugging you too tight, kissing you a lot...

‌ All the time

‌ And yes, you both were dating for a while now

‌ But your parents didn't really appreciate the attitude

‌ And truly, he thought that by doing that he was showing how much he treasured and loved you

‌ Sadly your parents didn't understand his actions like he planned

"But what was I supposed to do? Stay away from you?"

"Ideally, yes"

Changbin pouted, not even realising it "but I'm your boyfriend"

"They are not used to this fact just yet. Don't worry though, they still have a lot of time to like you. Just wait and see"

Hyunjin

‌ Similar to Chan, Hyunjin didn't expect to be rejected by your parents

‌of course, he wasn't expecting to make the fall in love immediately, but he knew he had some charms

‌and he actually put a lot of effort into impressing them so when it doesn't work he's like

‌genuinely sad

‌And he's scared your relationship might change now that he doesn't have your family approval right away.

"So... About the dinner"

"They are always like this, don't worry"

"How come?"

"I knew they were gonna play hard to get. But don't you stress over it, sooner or later they will realise there is no need to act like it"

"So I can still convince them into not hating me?"

"Why would they hate you? You were really boyfriend material if you ask me"

He laughed, a little bit more relieved "They were kinda... aggressive back there, y'know?"

"Ugh, sorry about that. I swear things will get better"

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not. Why would I be?"

"I thought you'd get sad or something like that since the meeting didn't go that well"

"I'm a bit sad, yeah. But it's not your fault. You did your best. Besides, it won't last that long. It's kinda hard to hate on the Hwang Hyunjin for too long"

He laughed again, openly this time as he replied "I hope you are right"

Han

‌The problem wasn't exactly what he did

‌The problem was that he didn't do anything

‌Literally anything

‌ He'd excuse himself to go to the bathroom to avoid any questions

‌He barely moved besides that

‌After a while your dad even forgot he was there

‌And Han wished he could disappear

"I'm so, so sorry"

"Ji, it's okay"

"I was gonna answer your mother, I swear. But she was looking at me with daggers in her eyes"

"You were just fine"

"Fine? Y/n, your dad sighed in relief after I left the room. They must see me as a loser"

"I'm sure they don't. Besides, you still have a lot of time left to win them over. I know they'll love you"

Felix

‌Your parents loved him actually

‌They just don't think he is fit to be your boyfriend

‌They think that his angel face and sweet personality wouldn't give you enough security throughout your life

‌And Felix wants to prove himself to your parents so badly now

‌He will use his deep voice privilege to try to prove his point

‌He will go to the gym with Changbin until he's "intimidating" enough

‌And he won't fail on reminding them how he has over 60 medals on taekwondo

"How do I look?"

"Great, as always"

"But do I look intimidating? Scary?"

"Lix..."

"But not too scary. I need to look threatening to others but reliable to you"

"You look like someone my parents will like"

"They already like me, but not enough to like our relationship"

"They will though. Soon enough they will appreciate everything that comes along with you, trust me."

Felix smiled and nodded, feeling a certain comfort into your words as you headed to the door

"Just for the record, you do look threatening but reliable"

"Oh thank you. I was going crazy over this"

Seungmin

‌If your parents don't like Seungmin then the problem is on them

‌just kidding

‌Seriously though, I can't imagine why they wouldn't like him

‌And neither can Seungmin himself

‌So he truly thinks that everything was a misunderstanding and that it's only a matter of time until your whole family falls in love with him

‌He will face it like a challenge

"What about we invite your parents to our apartment this weekend?"

"We just saw them less than an hour ago"

"I think we should see them again"

"Did you like them that much?"

"They seem cool. But they also seem to hate me. I need to change their minds"

"What? They didn't hate you at all"

"Your father's glare would disagree. But that doesn't matter that much because by the end of this week they will love me"

"You seem certain"

"Of course I am. I can't have them hating me for the rest of our lives, can I?"

"They don't hate you. They are just... hard to please"

"I'll change this" he faced you with a confident smile "I give you my word"

I.N

‌Kinda clueless

‌Totally clueless actually

‌He can't understand what he did wrong but apparently he did something awful considering your parents disliked him that much

‌Will try to find ways to apologise

‌Will gift them and try to keep a conversation even when you're not around

"Does your mother like flowers? She does, right? Every mother does"

"What are you doing?"

"You said that she invited us to lunch this Friday. I don't want to go see her with empty hands again. Maybe that's what made her hate me so much the first time"

"She doesn't care about those things, Innie"

"No? Then why doesn't she like me?"

"She's just hard to satisfy, you know. But I bet she'll like you in no time. She just needs to get to know you better"

"You keep saying that but I don't know, I feel like that won't happen any time soon. I really want her to approve me"

He had that hopeless expression again, that one that really wanted to change the situation but didn't know how to. You really hated seeing him disappointed on himself.

"Lilies" you said

"What?"

"Those are my mother's favourites. Lilies"

"Oh my God, thank you" he got up and kissed the top of your head lightly, before going to the door of your shared apartment "I'll be right back"

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! | masterlist

[strangersteddierthings]

Pumpkin Carving (A Halloween One Shot)

Pumpkin carving and a sleepover. An excuse for everyone to gather together on Halloween now that the Party has decided they're too old to trick-or-treat.

A pumpkin carving station has been set up in the Harrington's giant three car garage. Steve did debate setting it all up in the yard, less cleanup of the pumpkin insides that way, but it was pretty chilly, and Steve wasn't sure how long they'd all take to do the actual carving.

Does pumpkin carving take long?

Steve's never carved a pumpkin so he wouldn't know. There is no universe in which his mother would have allowed a pumpkin in her house, much less under the circumstance of then cutting it open and freeing it of its insides. While Steve has never participated in the act of carving a pumpkin, he knows how it goes. Hypothetically.

He'd needed to know enough to gather all the supplies after all, so a quick call to Robin (along with some gentle teasing and mocking) and he was set.

Eddie arrives first, having been volunteered to go get the pumpkins from the patch. It's not that Steve is scared of the pumpkin patch, or anything, it's just that Eddie's van would be better for transporting them.

Steve tried to offer to unload them, insisting it was only fair since Eddie had to load them, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and gets to work. It's not that pumpkins are extra heavy, but they aren't exactly light. And Steve knows that Eddie thinks Steve doesn't want his help because of how long it took Eddie to heal, but that's not the reason. Steve just...

Steve's just drawn to watching instead of helping when Eddie grabs a pumpkin under each arm, muscles flexing as he tightens his hold enough to keep them trapped between his arms and his sides and now Steve's left wishing, wistfully and not for the first time, that it was his thighs Eddie was wrapping those arms around. That it was him Eddie was hoisting up, perhaps holding against a wall and-

"Am I going to do all the loading and unloading?" Eddie bursts his thoughts by knocking their shoulders together as he passes by, already on his second round of pumpkin unloading.

"What, no, sorry," Steve turns to grab two pumpkins of his own. It's quick work with the two of them, then, to unload, and a short wait for everyone to start showing up.

Some biked, others dropped off by parents. Steve walks out to each car to chat and confirm that yes, of course they can stay the night; they won't be a bother and I'll keep them out of trouble.

Soon enough the garage is full of people, pumpkins, and noise. Lucas and Max have migrated to the corner of the garage closest to the door leading inside to whisper together as Lucas guts two pumpkins while Max describes what she wants on hers. Will and Mike have also set themselves apart to work out whatever it is they plan to carve on their own pumpkins. Dustin, El, Erica, and Eddie have plopped down in the center and just got to work. They aren't coordinating their pumpkins like the couples seem to be doing. They do seem to be taking it the most serious, though, with the absolute silence from all of them, concentration faces fully on.

Steve is off on his own, too. He's taken a seat about five feet from Eddie but he's the furthest from the door. He frowns down at his pumpkin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He's not sure how to start. What to do.

He looks up from his pumpkin and over to Eddie. He's using a knife to saw around the stem of the pumpkin. Which, duh. Steve should have put that together. There has to be some way to remove the insides easily, so removing the top made sense.

Without trying to overthink it all, Steve stabs into the top of his pumpkin and starts sawing his own circle around the top. It's. Well, it's something. He wouldn't say sawing a circle is fun but it's not tedious and soon enough his knife returns to the starting point and... Hmm. He watches as the bit he just cut around sags into his pumpkin. Eddie's didn't do that.

Steve frowns down at it for a moment before grabbing the stem and pulling the top off. His face wrinkles in disgust at the stringy clump of pumpkin insides that hang from the top and he sets that down to the side quickly. He's realizing now why everyone else chose to wear short sleeves even though it's cold outside as he looks around the garage and sees everyone shoving their hands into the pumpkin, pulling stringy, seedy, strands of pumpkin out.

With a sigh, Steve rolls a sleeve up and plunges his own hand into the holes he's made and almost instantly rips his hand back out. Ew. No. Gross! Wrong! The feeling of the strands breaking under the pressure of his hand, the slightly moist feeling of the inside, the unexpected slipperiness of the seeds, all of it sends a shiver of revulsion up Steve's spine. He makes a soft gagging noise against his own will.

"You gonna be sick?" Eddie asks almost immediately.

"Uh. Oh, yeah," Steve says as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed blush. He can see that all eyes are on him now, which adds to his embarrassment on top of realizing the question he was asked and what he answered. "Wait, I mean no. I'm not going to be sick."

Eddie looks from Steve to his pumpkin, and back up. "Don't like the feeling of pumpkin guts?"

"It was just unexpected is all," Steve defends, even as the thought of sticking his hands back into the pumpkin sends another shiver through him.

"Unexpected," Dustin repeats back. Steve tenses but nothing else follows that. He looks over and Dustin seems to be having a silent conversation with Eddie judging by the stare down.

"Maybe I am gonna be sick," Steve lies, standing quickly and fleeing the garage.

God fucking dammit. Why is he so embarrassed about this? Why is he... he's hiding the fact he's never done this before, and he doesn't know why. They aren't going to mock him for it. Well. Maybe a little, but in the same way Robin did. Tease him because they love him. They wouldn't really be making fun of him. Except maybe Mike but Steve doesn't really care about his opinion anyway. Gave up on that a while ago.

He goes to the kitchen sink on autopilot, scrubbing the gross, now dried and tacky feeling from his hand. He's in the process of drying his hands when a voice startles him.

"Hey man. You okay?"

It's Eddie. Of course, it's Eddie they would send after him.

"Yeah," he turns so his back is to the sink, leaning back against it to look at Eddie.

"You never have to scoop out a pumpkin before? Did someone else do it for you?"

If anyone else had asked, Steve would think it was condescending. Someone mockingly asking after nannies or servants who would do the gross part of pumpkin carving for the little rich kid. But it's Eddie, and he's just curious and sincere. So, Steve says, "nah, man. Just never done this before."

Eddie's browse crinkle in confusion and Steve thinks he's so fucking cute. He wants to kiss the confusion from his brow. "You've never carved a pumpkin before?"

Steve just gives a shake of his head before shrugging. He wants to cross his arms, close in on himself, but it's Eddie. He's trying to not shy away from the people he cares about. He's trying to let them take care of him, too.

(It's been a process, since the defeat of Vecna. Learning to let people care about him. He's better at it these days. Robin said so and if anyone is an expert on him, it's her. He can't always trust his own opinion to be unbiased.)

"I'll scoop out your pumpkin if you still want to give pumpkin carving a try," Eddie offers, a soft, lopsided smile on his face that Steve adores. The bats took a good chunk of his left cheek, and the scarring is heavy, the muscles non-responsive, so every smile is lopsided, but Steve loves them all.

"Okay," Steve says, offering a soft smile in return but doesn't push off the sink. Not until Eddie approaches, taking Steve's wrist and tugging him along.

No one says anything when they return to the garage, nor when Eddie blows past his own pumpkin to sit next to Steve and grab up his pumpkin. Eddie looks down at the hole Steve's carved, a calculated look on his face. It's cleared away soon enough when he smiles as wide as his scarred cheek allows before he gets to work on the pumpkin. He cleans it out thoroughly before handing it back to Steve, then crawls across the floor to retrieve his own abandoned pumpkin, rolling it across the floor as he crawls back.

"Oh, wait. Can you go get me a marker?" Eddie asks, as Steve is examining his pumpkin, trying to imagine a face to go on it.

"Yeah," Steve says, glad to have a moment more to think about the face as he fetches a marker from his father's office.

He returns to most of the kids having already finished their own pumpkins. Unsurprising, considering how much time Steve spent just thinking about carving before he even started.

"Marker," Steve offers it out after he's sat down again, close enough that his knee is touching Eddie's this time.

"Thanks," Eddie takes the marker and adjusts so more of his leg is pressing against Steve's. "So, you can freehand the face if you want, or I could draw you a face to cut out? If you want."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure," Steve says, shoving his pumpkin towards Eddie who looks delighted by Steve's answer. It doesn't take him long to draw on a face. Triangle eyes, a little rectangle nose, and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth.

Steve and Eddie carve in quiet, while Steve basks in the warmth of Eddie's leg next to his, touching his. He's never been sure if Eddie likes him back, not enough to announce his own crush, but sometimes... There are times like this that fill him with hope.

Steve doesn't even realize they've been abandoned to the garage until Eddie finishes his pumpkin, which is three bats carved artistically into the side. Steve is impressed, and when he turns to ask if anyone else is, there isn't anyone there.

"Oh. I didn't even hear them leave."

Eddie plops the top of his pumpkin back on, which reminds Steve he needs to do the same. He reaches for his top but Eddie beats him to it, craving the gross mass of sides that was stuck to it off before handing it over it.

Steve sets the top back on the pumpkin, and it immediately drops into the pumpkin. "What. Why did it-?"

"You gotta cut the top into an odd shape or at an angle. Otherwise, that happens. But it's okay. You didn't know, and I know how to fix it. You got some toothpicks in your house?" Eddie says, assuring Steve before he even has time to overthink it.

Can Steve be any more in love with him at this point?

"What?" Eddie whispers, eyes wide and face slowly turning red.

"What?"

"You just... you, uhh. Did you not mean to say that out loud?"

"Say wha- oh God," Steve registers what he'd thought, or apparently, what he said and now he and Eddie are just staring at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving.

"I'm not going to question if you meant it," Eddie starts slowly, clearly the more brave one of the two, "just. I need to know if you mean it, like, romantically."

"I did. Do. I-" Steve can be brave, too. He can. "I do love you. Romantically."

"Holy shit. I want to pull you in and kiss you so bad but my hands are covered in pumpkin guts and-"

Steve does it for him, both hands grabbing at his face and pulling him in.

His first time carving a pumpkin ends up being fantastic, even counting the kids flooding back into the garage to scream 'finally' at them.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[uplatterme]

“Say my name.”

—happy birthday to xiao! this is my first time writing for him? i hope it is okay :D

—sub!xiao/softdom!reader, gn!reader | nipple play, handjob, rimming (all xiao!receiving)

Xiao doesn’t really care for what mortals think of him. 

That’s what he tells himself, at least. He doesn’t care whether humans are put off by him as long as he does his job well as a protector of Liyue. 

He doesn’t care if his ways of punishing monsters are to be considered savage or brutal by others.

Most of all, he doesn’t care if you’ve never cared to call him by his name.

The yaksha snaps his chopsticks just thinking about it.

He sighs, wondering if he has said something that you may have misinterpreted. Sure, he knows that his words aren’t the nicest unlike the other adepti but there’s not a specific situation that comes to mind.

Perhaps he’s overthinking it…

“Thank you so much again, Sir Adepti!” Your voice is nothing but praise. There’s no hint of aggressiveness at all.

Yet the thought of his name actually being said out loud by that voice seems so unreachable.

So this time it’s “Sir Adepti”, huh?

He supposes that’s better than the time you called him “Mr. Conqueror of Demons”.

“It’s no problem.” He replies, seeing the last hilichurl fade away.

Xiao finds it impressive that you manage to spot him whenever you’re in trouble despite not really stating his name yourself. He thinks about the possibility that you’re actually capable of defending yourself if needed, even if there’s no basis for such thought.

“As swift as ever,”

He tenses up at the compliment. It’s just a simple observation but he clenches his fist at the way you say it. Pure genuinity. 

You’re not saying it just because you want to be on his good side (even if you already are), you mean it and that idea brings unwanted emotions that certainly keep him distracted even if he doesn’t want to be.

“I apologize, what was it that you were saying?” He asks, seeing the way your lips move but not truly hearing it.

You chuckle, covering your mouth and uttering apologies that sound sweeter than dreams.

“A mora for your thoughts?”

“I have no need for mora, I helped you out because I wished to do so.” He completely diminishes the joke, instantly flying over his head. You didn’t speak much of it however, preferring to focus on what he said instead.

“Is that so? That’s interesting, I thought you did it because it’s your obligation.” You tease.

The reply catches him off-guard.

“You…are twisting my words.” He says, a much quieter tone than his stern ones earlier when he was warning you about the dangers of being out this late.

“Am I, Dearest Yaksha?”

There proceeds another title.

“I—You are aware that I’m the only active Yaksha? That title is not something I should be benefiting from.” He clears up. How longer were you going to play this game of yours? Is saying his name really that much trouble for you?

Your laugh surrounds the air once again, “It’s a wonder how you aren’t surrounded by fans all day with the way you are.”

He shrinks at the imagined situation. He would never, never allow himself to be near a large number of people just for reputation’s sake.

“I do what I do not for the people’s idea of me.” Xiao states.

“I know.”

He watches you look fondly at him before speaking up. “You need to loosen up a bit more, especially today. Don’t you think so?”

But before he can even ask for you to expand on what you meant, you had already walked far enough, and all he could do was stare at your back, his hands reaching out for something that’s already gone.

The feeling isn’t something new to him.

He returns to Wangshu Inn troubled, ready to sit down and ponder alone when Verr Goldet greets him with a smile.

“How did your patrol go?” She stands by the counter, getting something from under the desk while she awaits his answer.

“Nothing unusual.” 

“I’m pretty sure that Liyue would have been alright without your attendance for today.” She adds, giving him a small envelope that seemed to contain some letters.

“Some letters from everyone. Do read it when you have the time.”

He reads through the names on the letters. A few are from the residents of the inn themselves, some from the other adepti (which is surprising considering their reserved attitude), some from the townspeople of Liyue…

But what garners his attention is the last letter in the envelope stuck with a qingxin, a name that’s all too familiar to Xiao.

He places the other letters on the desk beside his bed, wanting to read what it is that you’ve said to him.

He reads through the content easily, and the way it’s worded easily strikes through his heart. In his private room, he flushes a deep red while reciting the words under his breath as if saying it will free him from the pounding in his chest.

Xiao reads out the last sentence, 

“Call out my name, Xiao.”

There’s no hesitation when he finally does.

He notices the presence on his balcony and he decides to see who the intruder is at this hour, only to find out that it’s you.

How long had you been out there?

“Happy Birthday. I hope you appreciate those letters because I cooked multiple batches of Adepti’s Temptation just to get an actual written letter—”

Xiao cuts you off as he jumps into your arms, hugging you tightly as if you’re going to perish any second now.

He doesn’t say anything, just continuing to hold onto your warmth and not knowing what to do next.

“My, which letter got to you? Was it the—”

“No.” Xiao boldy says.

“No?”

“Say my name, please.”

You pull him away from you and stare into his eyes, wiping away the few drops of tears that have somehow escaped his tough shell.

The feeling of relief, warmth, and caring that he experiences when your voice finally says what he’s been wanting to for so long breaks Xiao. You didn’t need to confess your feelings in any other way, that was enough for him to know that you reciprocate his own.

He hugs you once more, burying his head onto your body.

“Thank you.”

Xiao had never thought he’d be caught actually using his bed for resting. Well, if what’s happening right now actually counts as “resting”.

He writhes at the feeling of your tongue through the thin cloth of his top, him being pinned down by your left hand gripping his wrists.

He has never thought that his chest would be so sensitive, but the way your lips pinch his nipples has his legs moving more than they should, no matter if he wants his body to stay still.

Keeping himself composed when it comes to pain is easy. Unfortunately, the opposite could be said with pleasure, since he is now instinctively grinding himself on your leg while you play with his erect nipples.

“Hnn—Aah. Please…”

He wants more. He bites his lip at the thought of being greedy, a needy whine escaping his throat despite that.

“Speak up, Xiao.”

The embarrassing noise that slips out of him when you call his name sends him flushing. Perhaps it’s because you’ve deprived him of such pleasure for so long that it causes cute spurts of precum out of his dick.

Your finger traces on the green markings on his lower region, slightly glowing with the way the light in the room is slightly dimmed.

“W-Want more…” The plead easily comes out of his mouth due to him being in such a dreamy state, it only registers to Xiao what he says when he feels you separating his legs away from each other.

It’s such a sight to see the adepti’s hole clenching and unclenching, his cum that leaked down from earlier beautifully surrounding it.

Xiao’s figure is quite small but that doesn’t take away from how his ass is nicely shaped, with a few scars on the side of his thighs from the battles that he’s suffered through.

Your gentle caressing of his cheeks makes his dick twitch slightly.

“N-No, you don’t have to…!”

It’s a strange sensation to have himself licked with such enjoyment, he feels a bit guilty enjoying this so much already but when he observes you devouring him with such hunger, the resistance falls flat on his tongue, easily replaced with soft whimpering.

“Xiao.”

You call for him once again but before he could even reply with something coherent, your tongue slips inside of him.

He struggles to lay flat on his back, his lower body inching towards your face.

The texture of your tongue against his rim has him breathing deeply and quickly, your hands spreading his ass apart so you could easily eat him out.

The soft kisses that you plant in between, the way your fingers dig into his soft skin…it’s ungodly.

And if that wasn’t already hypnotizing enough, your other hand slowly makes its way from his thigh to the base of his cock, just circling it with your fingers and squeezing softly.

Xiao grinds even more on your tongue but immediately apologizes when he notices how closer that brought him. He tries to move away but is immediately pulled back down, shivering from how your tongue enters him once again, stretching him out.

He bites his teeth together at that, his head hitting the soft pillow when your hand that’s only been gripping him has now started to stroke his length, never reaching his tip and only keeping your hand on his shaft.

“Wait…I—”

Xiao doesn’t know where to focus, his eyes meeting the ceiling of his room. He’d be lucky if the residents of the inn were to not hear of the noises he’s making right now, though he finds that to be impossible.

He moans your name, begging you to let him take a break at least but also wanting more at the same time. He’s too confused on whether he should be enjoying it this much.

When you told him to loosen up, he didn’t realize you’d take it literally.

He feels his muscles tightening, his knee gently hitting the side of your body. He won’t—can’t last long.

Xiao fumbles with his words, he should warn you, shouldn’t he? If he orgasms like this, surely his cum would be a mess for you to clean up, right?

He tries, he really does. However, what comes out of his mouth are completely incomprehensible, just soft but loud moans. “Ah, uh! Hah—Can’t!”

He doesn’t miss the way your hand seems to be stroking him even roughly, using the leaking cum out of him as lubrication. The way his cum falls on your tongue, acting like that’s no bother for you as you continue to eat him out.

Soon enough, it takes everything in him to hold onto nothing, clenching his fists empty as he knows that he’ll end up ripping the sheets if he does that instead.

His cum splatters everywhere but mostly around his stomach and your face, the scream that erupts from him is humiliating and he only hopes that no one can tell that it’s him who’s the owner.

Xiao’s entire body, especially his legs, quiver.

He lays there weak on the bed, letting you go on top of him as you press your lips against his, the taste of his own cum turning him on.

He’s still breathing heavily, panting and moaning into your mouth. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you down and deeper into the kiss.

Once you two separate, a trail of saliva follows and gets left on the side of Xiao's mouth. 

The grin that appears on your face right after flusters Xiao and he looks away, only to have his face be grabbed by your fingers, turning his head towards yours for a quick peck.

“Happy Birthday, Xiao.”

[lowkeyrobin]

can you do a gally x reader where its like a lovers to enemies to lovers??? thanksss 🫶

thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoyed bc this genuinley rotted my brain bc I spent way too much time overthinking it 💀💀 ; HOLY SHIT POST WRITING ROBIN HERE.... uh I didn't see the first lovers bit I am so sorry 💀 I actually apologize bc idk how to fix it now LMFAO ; also ending is rlly dumb but jsjskdndns ; send tmr requests please 🙏🙏🙏

GALLY ; i don't want to be your enemy anymore

summary ; a little enemies to lovers trope with Gally because why not

warnings ; language, guns, knives, WCKD stuff

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist

Being stuck in that peaceful, dystopian Hell with Gally for three years was enough to make you rethink every single life choice that could've probably led you there, which wasn't much considering most of your memory had been erased. But, after escaping the maze, WCKD, fighting against Mother Nature in the Scorch and the Cranks, making it to the Right Arm, raiding a WCKD train, and a no-plan-plan to storm the Last City, you never thought you'd see Gally again, for better or for worse.

You two had never gotten along whatsoever, prior to, or post Thomas entering the Glade.

Gally would always do anything and everything just to piss you off. From the frequent physical fights to dehumanizing and undermining you for whatever reason, it never stopped. You were truly enemies, always out to get each other back or glare at each other from across the entire Glade.

He thought it was dumb for you to be awarded the graciousness of being a Runner, for whatever reason. Builders didn't have a lot going up in the membrane and he just proved it, constantly. But, sometimes you'd do the same, you weren't any better than him, just short-tempered, you supposed.

All those wasted nights sleeping in the Slammer over fighting, all the alcohol wasted due to throwing it all over each other. You both had a fire burning in your hearts to just kill each other, but in a way, it was fun. It was fun to piss each other off and get a reaction, and to just yell and scream your emotions out at each other. Toxic enemies, perhaps.

Minho though, good Lord. He always had to tease you, his fellow peer, about it.

"Oh, you're so in love with Gally" and "You look at each other with hearts in your eyes." You couldn't go a day without him bringing it up at least twice.

But now, you were trying to get Minho back from WCKD, and that's all that mattered. What did matter was that Gally was fucking alive.

Of fucking course, just your luck.

How he wasn't dead was beyond you, considering you watched Minho impale him with a spear.

You thought for a moment he was working for WCKD, considering he killed a small child last time you saw him, and he and his buddies basically kidnapped you and your friends. But, he took you guys back to some Rebellion setup hideout just outside the city, considering you couldn't get into the walls, now knowing there were microchips in your necks tracking your every move.

You stuck back while Thomas spoke to Lawrence, the guy in charge, turned half-Crank. You didn't want to be anywhere near Gally while he took Thomas down, so you stuck with the others, silently looking for reassurance in each other.

༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚

The sun sets rather quickly, and you, Newt, and Thomas join Gally into sneaking into the city through a train tunnel. That in itself was its own thing. You don't even know why you agreed to come with them, considering you were being led by Gally, but, alright then.

He takes you three on a little tour of the city, showing you all the bright lights and the building that towered over the rest, WCKD's headquarters.

You're perched on a balcony, looking over at the building from afar. A telescope rests on the ledge of the wall, Thomas looking through it. Gally stands on his left, and then Newt and you on the right.

Newt looks over at you, sensing your discomfort from a mile away. "You okay?"

You nod, arms crossed as you look out into the city.

Thomas looks up and over at you two, telling you to look through the telescope to look into the windows of the building. Apparently, he'd seen something of interest. The blonde steps forward, looking through the lens as Thomas stands next to him.

Gally looks to you, a weird kind of look in his eyes. You shrug, silently asking what he wanted. He mouths a little message that he'll talk later, probably wanting to get back before doing so.

After returning, you find your way onto the rooftop, needing some alone time. You'd forgotten about Gally looking at you entirely, needing to clear your head over seeing him again and being shot at as per usual earlier. The fact WCKD was able to track you was what had you slightly scared. I mean, what if they were able to see you right now, trying to take a breath all alone on the rooftop?

You don't hear Gally sneaking up on you, but when the footsteps become closer and closer, you quickly turn your head back to see him a few feet away. He apologizes for running up on you, seeing the way you quickly turned around in defense mode like you were scared or something.

"I just came out here to talk, about earlier" He explains, sitting down next to you, although making sure to leave some room between the two of you.

"What's to talk about?" You ask, looking up over the walls of the city in front of you.

"I dunno, to apologize, and try to make amends, I guess" He answers with a little snark, "I'm not asking for forgiveness, but if we're gonna work together, I'm not acting like your enemy anymore, okay?"

You take a second to actually look at him, noticing his freshly buzzed hair and his desperately needed growth spurt, mentally and physically. You slowly nod and turn away, looking back up at the walls ahead.

He exhales through his nose, a little frustrated. He wanted an actual truce, knowing you. "Y/n, I'm serious. I'm not bullshitting, I don't wanna be that stupid kid a year ago that had fun fighting and making fun of you, I want to work on the same team. I don't wanna be best friends, but I don't wanna be your enemy either"

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to conjure up a response.

"Yeah, fine"

"...Cool"

"Initiate phase four"

You and Gally await as Newt rounds up all the kids, keeping a close eye on Thomas forcing Teresa to give them intel and directions. Thankfully, she was halfway on your side.

Newt and Thomas send you two off with the children, all under the age of thirteen or so, directing them down to the bottom level of the parking garage where Brenda awaits. You're dressed in the slightly uncomfortable WCKD guard suits, you in the red variation like Newt, Gally in the grey like Thomas.

Once they were safe on the bus with Brenda, the two of you quickly scurried away to get lost in the crowds and hopefully meet back up with Newt and Thomas soon. You make sure your gun has the safety on while in your belt, deciding to work with handguns tonight, while he decides to go for the more bulky, electrical type of gun this night.

Somehow, Gally with a gun was kind of hot, but you'd never admit it aloud.

You power walk down the streets, making and pushing your ways through the crowds, fake patrolling the bottom layer of the WCKD tower, awaiting a message from Thomas. He tries to strike up some small talk as you also await Lawrence to bring the corporation down, since the Rebellion would never be stopped by just a few seventeen and eighteen year olds plus their forty year old father figure friend. Another plus, to properly destroy WCKD wasn't a bad idea, so the idea commenced with a very certain plan.

"Y'know, I didn't expect to see you again, like, if I ever saw you guys again. Not in a rude "I thought you would've died" way, but I didn't take you as one to try and take down the government and shit. You're a tough shank though, I'll give you that, " He speaks, speaking calmly, trying to give you that reassurance once more that he genuinely wasn't trying to start anything.

You nod, "Never thought I'd see you again either, but it's kind of relieving, to be honest. You changed in a good way. A really good way." You lightly smile, giving him a little shoulder nudge. "And don't worry about the past, it doesn't matter anymore, I couldn't care. Just... got a little scary seeing you again I guess" You shrug.

He nods. "Yeah, it's fine. Uhm... fuck, sorry" He says, trying to find the right words, "I'm not saying this like, to try and weird you out or distract you but I feel like to not hate each other anymore, we need to be open-"

"I like you too, if that's what you're getting at." You shrug, stopping in your tracks as he does. "If not, then sorry, kinda jumped to conclusions." You awkwardly chuckle, double checking your safety again.

He nods, "Cool. We'll talk about this later then?"

"Why not now? Under the soon to be burning building?" You joke with a light laugh.

"I missed that laugh" He mumbles

"Hey, hey, calm down now" You chuckle, shoving his shoulder, "We have a mission, here. We're children at war, Gally"

"The mission can wait a moment" He suggests, giving you a look, awaiting approval.

You dramatically roll your eyes with a smile, accepting his move before quickly pulling him in for a little kiss. You dragged him by the strap of his WCKD vest, almost making him fall on his knees for you.

"Now come on, we gotta go find some people to get in formation with and get to Newt and Thomas" You nod sideways, pulling your mask back up.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go"

[haydensky01]

[Obey me]: MC falling in love with Diavolo

Summary: The most powerful human, overthinker as every woman is, falling in love with the most powerful demon. No spoilers.

###############################

I remember I do, the first time I appeared here falling from the sky my eyes locked onto his with unwavering intensity. He exuded overwhelming elegance, his presence so immaculate, so radiant, so majestic. While I had yet to be informed of his royal status, it was a truth I instinctively grasped without needing confirmation.

"Skin of sand, eyes of honey, hair of fire" is all that filled my thoughts as his eyes captivated my sight whole.

"Eyes of honey" It's cold. "Eyes of honey" I'm adrift. "Eyes of honey" What strange realm is this?

The room unfamiliar, the faces foreign, the attire surreal. "Eyes of honey... eyes of honey".

Limbs frozen, fists clenched "Eyes of honey... eyes of honey" where am I?

Diavolo: "Welcome to the Devildom MC. .. Oh, pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked are we?"

"Oh... it speaks..."

Diavolo: "My name is Diavolo. I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me."

"Eyes of honey... the tolling of bells."

Diavolo: "And someday soon I will be crowned king of the Devildom."

###############################

I read the other day in the RAD Newspaper that the hue of the next king's eyes, Diavolo's, is a unique emblem of his lineage, exceedingly rare even among their kin and the colours found in nature. Liars. Ever since I came here 3 years ago, It is all I see everywhere, all the time, on everything. I could swear my pupils have been coated with eyes of honey, for whenever I close my eyes, his gaze manifests without fail.

I am not naïve; I know what this is. He is undeniably handsome, a prince on the brink of becoming king. He possesses the charm, the intelligence, the chivalry, the wealth, the smile... and the eyes of a man with whom to fall in love. And I am a human raised on fairy tails. The equation might be complex but its result is unmistakable.

However, I am me. And me doesn't like embarrassment, rejection or a three realms worth of attention and gossip. It is the natural course of events to feel deep affection for Eyes of honey. But it is also the right course of events to relegate it to the realm of pre-sleeping fantasies, even if my mind refuses to adhere to this reasonable schedule.

I mean, I do feel the desire to seduce when I am around Lucifer or Mammon or Simeon or Solomon and others. Hell, I even flirted and went on dates. For the same reasons perhaps. Beauty, intelligence, talents, tact... or is it? I don't deny I was unwillingly comparing them to Diavolo all the time, I admit I imagined every flirt and every courtesy as if between me and Diavolo. But it still counts... doesn't it?

I blame this on Diavolo to be frank. Had he not summon me here to witness extraordinary power and charm, I wouldn't have invited him into my fantasies. Had he not call upon me on every events to be its centre. But then again, I AM the exchange student after all. Or perhaps hadn't he showered me with gifts, shown such care, and asked so kindly... He IS the ruler and I AM under his guardianship, aren't I? Had he not protected me so dearly? Again, he IS the most powerful. I don't know, I have no base but I blame him I do. I blame him for it all. And above all, his gravest sin remains... He looked at me with his eyes of honey.

The other night, at the ball, when we danced I could swear it was only the two of us dancing.

In the council room, when his hand brushed against mine, I could feel the heat from his flushed cheeks radiating across the air.

His late-night text and calls asking silly things amongst which is thrown the smallest sentences about how he wishes for me to be with him or for him to be with me. A future king cannot possibly be asking a human about muffins at 3am the eve of a world changing event, right?

The angry rumbling in his chest every time the demons and angels get too cosy with me?

Every time we found ourselves alone his voice carried the weight of a suffocated man in desperation of someone to set his lungs free. The urgency in his voice and the half calls for affection were real. I want them to be real.

Silly silly human. It's rather amusing, isn't it? For every time I tried to initiate even the most innocent flirtations or slightly intimate exchanges, he would deflect or evade. It's almost comical. And if not him, Barbatos or Lucifer would intervene... those sly serpents. Perhaps Barbatos sensed the impending embarrassment through his powers and chose to spare me the humiliation? AAAAHHHHH... This is so mortifying.

Whyyyyy? Why are you doing this to me Diavolo? Does it amuse you to toy with me this way? Spare me the pain and caste me away. For I cannot oblige myself to restrain from you. Be the bigger person, the adult in the room, the king in the kingdom and set me free.

###############################

Tears streamed down her face as she pondered all of this.

Lying on her bed in the dark at the house of lamentation, she was holding her phone above her face.

On the screen, a text conversation was visible, with the name of the correspondent adorned with a yellow heart: "Eyes of honey💛"

The text read:

___________________________________________

Eyes of honey💛: "Your fireworks display tonight was truly spectacular. I had no idea your magical prowess had grown so strong."

MC: "Haha... Thank you. The sky was indeed breathtaking."

Eyes of honey💛: "I am sure it was, but the true beauty was seeing it reflected in your eyes."

___________________________________________

In the chat box, she had typed "I love you" for the first time, acknowledging it as love rather than mere affection. It was the first time she had ever written those words, the first time, despite the consequences of it all, she had seriously considered putting an end to both their agony.

To be sent? To be deleted? Who knows?

[writermai05]

Arsonist's Lullabye

Prologue: All you have is your fire

Summary: Zuko’s bad day gets a bit better after an encounter with an unfamiliar face. 

Pairing: zuko x fem! reader (Live Action or Animated) 

A/N: I am delusional, and when I had the idea for a zuko x reader modern AU where he works in Iroh’s boba tea shop, I had to follow through with said idea. Let’s see if this goes anywhere, and feel free to leave comments or suggestions on how the fic could play out maybe :) 

Word Count: 773

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot.  This is a modern AU that takes place in the avatar world. Bending still exists. Zuko and the gaang are in college in this series !!

TW!: Physical abuse, burns, Ozai in general, Zuko’s backstory is so sad. 

Zuko knew it was going to be a long day as soon as he opened the shop at 12pm. 

Within the first two hours, he had run out of tapioca pearls, dropped a container filled with matcha on the floor (which by the way, was a pain in the ass to clean up,) and slipped on the floors he had just mopped. Perhaps he was just born unlucky. Perhaps, most people in life didn’t have to struggle the way that he was, the way that he always had. It wasn’t all bad. He was lucky enough to be here, working in his uncle’s tea shop in the Earth Kingdom, rather than in his father’s company back in the Fire Nation. 

The Jasmine Dragon was beloved by many. People from all over the city came to have some of the shops' amazing teas and pastries. It wasn’t too busy, having only three people come in today.  perhaps because school at the University of Ba Sing Se hadn’t quite started up yet, outside of the students who had moved in early. The shop was particularly chilly today, but the atmosphere managed to maintain the same warm and cozy feeling, with the dim atmospheric lighting and the sage and emerald hued furniture. Zuko had a second to just relax in the stillness. 

 He appreciated these quiet moments the most.  The moments where he could stop worrying about the shop, and overthinking the worst things he had ever done in his life. Such as when he lashed out at his uncle, multiple times, or about the people he had bullied in high school. He was almost able to forget it all. Forget the fact that his younger sister, Azula, was still stuck in a house with his abusive father, or even forget the feeling of his father’s hand, burning the flesh of his face, leaving a scar in its wake, as well as a near complete blindness in his left eye. His demons may be restless, but boy did Zuko keep them on a tight leash. 

Zuko’s reverie was broken by the sound of the door’s bell chime. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts, waiting patiently for his assistance to be needed. 

“Um, excuse me,” 

A girl, who seemed to be around his age, was standing right in front of him. She wore a navy blue dress with a pale blue lining and detailing around the edges. A belt of the same color was around her waist, with a brown leather cord connecting a bag onto her hip. Her black jacket was cropped to about rib length, with brown leather cords fastening it closed, as well as matching black pants and brown boots. 

“This is my first time here…Is there anything that you’d recommend?” She asked politely. 

There was something about the way her kind eyes twinkled in the orange lighting that made Zuko fluster. He cleared his throat before opening his mouth to talk. 

“Well, Lychee juice is a customer favorite. But personally, my Uncle Iroh’s jasmine green tea is the best in Ba Sing Se.” 

“The best in Ba sing Se?” She raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

“The best.” he nodded. 

“I’ll take it.” She said, reaching to the tote bag slung over her shoulder. Zuko interrupted her actions with the wave of his hand. 

Zuko shook his head. “Don’t worry, It’s on me.” he said, as he began punching numbers, into the register. 

“Oh no! I can’t let you do that-” She protested. 

He shrugged, a blush beginning to warm his cheeks.  “For a first time customer.” 

“Thank you so much…” She trailed off, waiting for him to tell her his name.

“Zuko.”

“Zuko. I’ll be sure to come by again. And I fully intend on paying that time.” She said with a playful glare. 

The boy smiled slightly.

“Your tea will be ready shortly.” 

Zuko had Iroh bring the tea over to the girl. He wasn’t confident in his ability to steadily bring the tray of hot tea without causing more burns to cover his body. The older man made sure to give the girl a complimentary fruit tart to enjoy, but not before looking at his nephew with a teasing glint in his eyes. Zuko groaned. 

“Not a word, uncle.” He said as he walked through the staff doors into the shops’ kitchen. 

After about 20 minutes had passed, Iroh came into the kitchen, clutching what looked like a napkin and some paper Yuan bills. 

“Zuko! The girl left this on her table after she left!”

Zuko carefully took the napkin from his uncle’s hand, reading the message. 

“Thanks for the tea! - y/n.” 

[spectr3inl0ve]

please more age gap Bruce Wayne PLEASEOLEASEPLASEPLEASEPLEASE

YES OFC ML!!! HERES CRADLE ROBBER!BRUCE WAYNE TELLING READER HES BATMAN (expanding on this post)

you and alfred are the only people in the manor, it's almost midnight. you know this because alfred let you in, telling you everyone's absent after you ask where they are. making your way up to bruces room, you take note of the stillness, the absence of noise, chaos. you silently open the double doors into the masterbedroom, and sit on the edge of the bed.

bruces presence has becoming more and more scarce in the past two months, and in a couple weeks you would be celebrating six months together. he's been more fatigued as well, and there's been countless unexplainable injuries - and some of them weren't of the smaller kind either. it's gotten to the point where bruce would sometimes wince when you touch him, brushing it off with 'muscle pain' until you lift his shirt to reveal a swelling bruise or a cut or graze. "you know how clumsy I am, baby." he smiles, and he's right, you do know. he's not clumsy. he's hardly ever available at night, and the 'date night' plans turn into a brunch on Saturday instead.

all of this makes you start questioning and overthinking your entire relationship, was he seeing someone on the side? are you not good enough? did you do something wrong? no. you didnt. couldn't have. you're as good as it gets and you know it, he knows it. even the tabloids are noticing how unhappy you're looking, always slightly pouting, perhaps a bit more clingy; always tailing bruce like a lost puppy.

tears form, and you do nothing to stop them. it's been a while since you've had a good cry. and as Steph says, "even a girlboss needs to cry!". and you completely agree. you let out all of your bottled up emotions out, sniffles turning into heavy sobs, but quiet enough to keep alfred from worrying.

through your overthinking and sobbing, you don't hear bruces heavy footsteps, and you don't hear him when he opens the double doors to his room. you do however, hear him when he gently calls your name. blood rushing to you cheeks, you stop your sobbing, wiping your nose. but you don't face him. bruce moves toward you swiftly, sitting down next to you and scooping you up into his arms, placing you onto his lap so you face him. he sees you actively avoiding his eyes, so he places a gentle, but firm hand on you jaw and guides your face to look at him. "what's got you crying, huh, pretty?" the nerve of him..."you." you hiss, furrowing your eyebrows. his face grows solemn, the colour draining. you see this as a sign to rant to him about whay he's done. and you do. you go off on him, yelling, hitting his chest and ugly crying. he just listens, nodding every now and then in acknowledgement. his calmness irks you, "do you have anything to say for yourself, bruce?" you cry into his chest, soaking his black tshirt with tears and mascara. you resurface, resembling a panda with the way your mascara smudged around your eyes. bruce, reading the room, bites back his smile and instead let's out a long sigh.

with his arms around her still, he stands, keeping her steady. "gotta show you something. you might not like it though..." the vagueness of it worries you even more. he retracts his arms from you, taking your hand and leading you to his office. while you stare off into the distance, bruce does fiddles around (I forgot how he enters the batcave thru the office 😭) and then the bookshelf reveals a secret elevator. your jaw drops as he leads you into it, pressing the button to go down. a few moments later, the elevator stops and opens, revealing a high tech...basement? cave? he steps out, you do the same. you notice how cold it is, wrapping your arms around yourself, "...what is this...? I don't understand.". the tears start up again, and this time youre unsure why. bruce comfortingly rubs your back, shushing you gently. "I...I'm...batman." he says quietly.

it takes a moment for you to process what you heard. "so you're not cheating on me...?" you sniff, looking around you. bruce goes red, oh. that's what you thought? he shakes his head, "no, sweetheart. never." he guides you toward the batcomputer, letting you play around a bit as he watches. if bruce is batman...does that mean.. "so...damian is robin? and the others are...?" you look at him with a quizzical look, sniffling. he gives me a small smile, "yeah, baby." "that explains a lot." you hit his chest and chuckle.

hope this was alr, please send asks abt cradle robber!bruce wayne or dick or jason!!!

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Categorical (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aemond needs to blow off some steam, so you offer to verbally spar with him. 

Warnings: Smut. Oral sex (F receiving) Friends/ Academic rivals to lovers. Torturing of philosophers.

A/N: Man, translating modern texts into High Valyrian is a pain. I did my best. Also look! My first Aemond smut. For nerdy explanations, go beneath the dots. 

“No.” You laugh, placing your cup down. “You will not convince me of Archmaester Rene's superiority to Septon Immanuel.”

It's very late on the library. You are sitting cross-legged on top of the table, Aemond properly sat on a chair. If a Maester were to see you, or god forbid, a Septa, you would be scolded until their face turned red. 

You shouldn't be here. Not in the library or alone with him, either. A loud feast is going on outside, to celebrate Princess Rhaenyra and her sons. Neither of you wanted to stay for longer than was strictly required. 

It had been your idea. Noticing how pent-up the Prince was becoming, you had offered to come here in the hopes of letting him blow off some steam in a constructive way. If you had been taught how to handle a sword, you would have invited him to the courtyard. But you had been born a woman near Oldtown. Words were your preferred weapons. 

“Rene shaped his era!” Aemond protests, brandishing the Second Meditation in his hand. “Without him, Immanuel would be nothing.” 

You scoff. Here he goes again. One would think, for such a devout man, he would be kinder to the Septon’s views on philosophy.

“That's a bit much. Did Prince Aegon spike your drink?” 

Aemond and you… It was a weird thing. As the daughter of a member of the small council, you had been brought to King’s Landing to foster alongside Princess Helaena. But as a girl from The Reach, you had little interest in embroidery and chasing bugs. No, you were more interested in learning politics and new languages. It meant that you were closer to her brother than her. 

At first, both of you had been hesitant to break out of your roles, but soon, having someone who was as passionate as you were about learning turned seductive. Sometimes, too seductive. 

“Perhaps you are right.” The Prince laughs, and you let your expression turn hopeful for a second. Had you finally defeated Aemond in an argument? You could actually dance from happiness because the man was as stubborn as they came.  "Only on being a bit much. Because while that might have been exaggerated, you know I am right about any Maester being superior to the Septons in terms of exploration of philosophical themes. Septons stray into ethics too much, and do not solve the truly important questions.” 

“And what is exactly wrong with ethics?” You frown. You have dedicated yourself to the pursuits of understanding how a rational human being behaves in society. It's interesting, as an overthinker. Obsessing over the existence of a universal way of doing the right thing occupies most of your days. 

How different would life be, if there was a universal guideline to follow and have things always turn right? How easier, if you knew how to get the best outcome, each time?

“Nothing, I guess. If you like ethics, I am willing to indulge you. But Immanuel?”  Aemond shakes his head, sliding the book to a corner of the table. It’s opened in the middle of one of the passages, one you know well.

One you hate well, too. A thing that thinks. A thing that doubts. Cogito ergo sum. You were not sold on the idea of reality being the product of a particularly malicious demon, but it was on-brand for Aemond. To you, instead, it ended up reading more like the ramblings of a madman. 

“What’s wrong with him? His work is revolutionary!” And it is true. You are not exaggerating. No one else has done such a thorough job of explaining how one should behave, and how society and laws play into our choices. 

“Who likes him, anyway? He is a nightmare.” Aemond shakes his head. 

“To your logic self, perhaps. I find him very inspiring.” You try to keep a straight face as you say it, but your lips are twitching into a smile. 

You are morally obligated to defend Immanuel's honor. He is the basis of your whole studies. But you have to admit, he is not the easiest read. Or the most interesting. The Archmaester is much more compelling in that aspect, but you would rather die than prove Aemond right. 

“You are lying through your teeth right now. What would the Septon think of that?” 

“Oh, shut up, you. It still doesn't prove your point.”  And honestly, it’s a tactic so low, it impresses you. Moral attacks? Really? You grin at Aemond and he grins back, knowing you caught him red-handed. He shrugs. 

“Do you want me to prove my point?” His hand taps on your knee.  The Prince is not meant to touch you like this, no matter how innocent. You are not supposed to be this close to a man who is not part of your family or your betrothed. Yet, he never seems to care. 

You and Aemond touch often. Always innocent touches, of course. A hand that lingers too long when passing over a quill. Lips that drink from the same cup, from the exact place your lips have left a mark. You circle each other, you chase each other. 

You marvel each time he does, at the wonderful reactions he manages to prompts from you. Heart skipping a beat, palms getting sweaty, pupils dilating. You are in love. So in love it hurts, and it tears at you, but also feels like floating and sitting on the softest clouds. 

It’s exquisite, the pain of loving. Overwhelming. Like standing in the freezing rain. Makes you feel so alive but so utterly lonely, knowing the object of your affections will never see you as you want him too. 

You are his friend. The one he can count on to discuss the latest book or the intricacies of a long forgotten society. Never a woman. 

How you long for him to look your way, just once. For his eye to linger on your lips a little too long. His hands to stray away from proper touches, towards intimate caresses. 

And it hurts, when it doesn’t happen. You clear your throat, vanish those thoughts, and plaster a smile on your face. It’s easy, pulling witty remarks out of the tip of your tongue. It always is, with him. The debate manages to be lively and profound, minds bouncing from topic to topic until you exhaust yourselves. You make each other better, sharper, smarter. 

"Of course, Prince of Arguing.” You tease, eyes crinkling at the corners. “No rhetoric. Or fallacies. Tu quoque.” 

“I don't need them. I can do it with pure empirical evidence.” Aemond taunts right back, leaning forward on his chair. It sounds strange. More charged than usual. The tension between the two of you building, rising. Suddenly, it’s not a conversation about Septon Immanuel and Archmaester Rene. 

“Oh?” 

It’s all the permission he requires. Aemond gets up, abruptly. The chair falls back with a loud clatter. Neither of you pay it any attention. 

“Look me in the eye.” He says, stepping closer. Your breath hitches at the proximity, but you decide there is nothing wrong with indulging him. The library is empty and no one will look for either of you. “Iksā iā run bona iotāpagon.” 

You arch an eyebrow. Of course, he picks the one language you have yet to be able to master. 

“Valyrian. How fancy.” 

Aemond ignores you. You have no choice but to look up at him, with the way he is looming over you. This close, you can see his pupils are blown, and he looks slightly nervous. Does he think you are a dragon, perhaps, that he is speaking High Valyrian in such a soothing tone? You are about to make that joke, but it dies in your throat when he gets even closer, nose nearly bumping against yours. 

"Bona umbagon, bona vestras kessa, bona vestras daor.” He mutters, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You tilt your head up, like a flower moving to follow her sun. Whatever he is saying, you don’t know, but you recognize the words for yes and no. You do not dare speak, afraid of breaking whatever is finally building up between the two of you. 

So many months spent playing cat and mouse, so many months making him give chase. Queen Alicent gushing about how good you would look together, how much she wants another daughter. Nights spent in the library, arguing just for the sake of it. 

It doesn’t feel like a game, anymore. 

Aemond leans forward, pupil dilated and dark. “Bona gīmissiks byka.” His nose bumps against yours. Your pulse accelerates. To jump or not to jump? His eye goes from yours, to your lips. You watch the slight smug quirk of that smart mouth you love so. It’s then when you get a hold of yourself. You love him too much to lose him to this if it were to go wrong. That line you don’t dare cross. You try to get off the table you are sitting on. 

Aemond grabs your arm, not forcefully, but enough to hold you in place. You could get out of it if you wanted to. 

“Bona daor gīmissiks olvie.” He whispers, carefully cupping your cheek in his hand. Helpless against him, you nuzzle his hand. Fervently, as if promising something, anything, he keeps going. “Bona ēza jorrāelagon, vēdros, ebas, daoriot ebas.” 

Jorrāelagon. Love. A confession. For your ears only, in a way that fits both of you. High Valyrian has always been the language of the arts, after all.

Unable to resist him any longer, you kiss him. Forgetting all about how you should behave, how the library is empty and that if you two get caught, your reputation would be ended. You just couldn’t wait anymore.  

You would know his voice among a thousand voices. That's why you know, even when it is a whisper, that Aemond is still speaking into the kiss, smugly. 

“Bona ēza ēdrugon, bona ēza dijāves.” 

You kiss him harder. He is quoting something against your lips, against your skin, as he presses lush and desperate kisses to the skin of your jaw. As you suck a bruise in the hollow of his throat. 

He pushes you gently to lay on the table, giving you a wicked look. When you nod, Aemond hikes up your skirts, exposing your legs and lower stomach. 

“And to think we could have been doing this for so long.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your belly button, smiling as you squirm desperately. 

“Quoting things in High Valyrian?” You ask, unable to not tease him. 

“That, too.” He laughs. “If you knew it, you would have figured out it was Rene's Second Meditation.” 

You laugh, soon melting into a moan when he starts nibbling at your thighs. 

“I’m not sold on his superiority, yet.”

“Trust me, my Lady.” Aemond grins. “When I am finished, you will be singing his praises.” 

“Aemond…” You say, suddenly apprehensive. Despite trusting him, you are a smart and educated woman. You know that even a hint of doubt could ruin your reputation. And while you would gladly give your maidenhead to him, you do not feel comfortable enough to enjoy it. “I… We are not married.” 

“I know.” He says, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “I’m not that kind of man.” 

“What are you doing, then?” You push yourself up on your elbows, to be able to look at him. Aemond remains crouched between your legs, busy with sucking a bruise on the juncture between thigh and hip. 

“Finally, a subject where I am more knowledgeable than you.”  The Prince smirks, before licking over your hole. You bite your lower lip to keep quiet, trying to stay still on the table. 

“My Prince…” You whine. It’s a strange feeling, but a pleasurable one. His mouth is scorching hot over your sex, and his tongue is doing things that you are pretty sure are considered a sin by the Faith of the Seven. A shame you were never very religious. 

You cannot think straight, with the way his tongue is lazily playing with your pearl. You try to be polite about it, but the moans leave your mouth unabashedly. If it were not for the feast happening outside, the whole Red Keep would hear your moans. You hope the music is enough to drown it. For your sake and his. 

“Ah, weren’t you the most eloquent Lady in The Reach? Finish your sentence.” Aemond mocks, pulling back. It doesn’t make any sense to you, your line of thought long-lost to the pleasure he is delivering you. Unashamedly, you try to grind your hips against his face, but Aemond just tuts. “Use your words.” His voice is filled with the same smugness as when he beats Ser Criston on the training yard, or manages to make you change your mind on a subject. 

The respite lets you think. Without him assaulting your senses, you try to recall what it was that you two were discussing. Knowledge. Aemond had been saying he had more knowledge than you about something, and his phrasing had been ambiguous. You had been about to ask him what he meant. 

“I meant to…” He swirls his tongue around your pearl, making you cut off your question, again. He keeps at it, making your voice turn shaky. You cannot think straight, or speak without moaning. Not with the way his tongue presses at your entrance, not with how he keeps torturing your poor pearl. The bud throbs and feels swollen, and you can tell he is taking advantage of it. “Ask. I was going to… Prince Aemond!” 

“What?” Aemond sits back on his heels, perching his chin on your thigh. Caressly, he takes off the eye patch. You respectfully don’t look.  You know it’s not because he trusts you, or because he wants you to see it. It’s because he is about to dive right in between your thighs and with how wet you are, the garment would get soaked. And it would show. You know your body well enough to know that your juices would stain the dark leather. 

Eventually, the night will come to an end and you two would have to return to your separate chambers through hallways full of people. If the Prince were to walk back with a stained eye patch, tongues would talk. More so, when your absence was noted. Half the Red Keep knows already how much time you spend together. He would not risk the stain on your reputation or on his. If it were found out you two were partaken in such deviant acts, both of you would be shunned. 

So, keeping your eyes firmly on the ceiling to not embarrass him or force him to share something he is not ready for yet, you speak. 

“I can’t speak with your mouth doing… Doing… That!” 

Your cheeks burn. You are unsure how to name the act, and if perhaps you got over your shyness, you would ask him. 

Aemond's response is clipped. Irritated. 

“You should have thought about it before denying us for so long. Keep arguing. Or I’ll stop.”  And it’s not your fault, really. It’s not like you were doing it on purpose. On the contrary. So focused on your feelings of admiration towards the Prince, you had been blind to his. You had never thought your love was reciprocated, and so were set on stomping on it until nothing but friendship and camaraderie remained. 

Never would you have thought him angry at your constant shying away. The thought makes butterflies surge in your stomach. The fact that Aemond wants you so much that he is angry at the thought of not having you sooner has you weak at the knees. 

Aemond takes your pearl between his lips, once more. He is careful, so the pleasure only edges to uncomfortable. You whine. He pulls away. You scream out on betrayal, before remembering exactly what Aemond asked you to. 

“I meant… Ask if you meant you knew…” And back at it, he goes, this time rewarding you by licking a path from your hole towards your pearl. “Ah! More than me in…” 

Too lost in your pleasure, you grab a handful of his hair, bucking your hips on his face. At this angle, Aemond’s nose rubs you just right, and you find yourself chasing the friction. 

“Go on. I quite enjoy where this is heading.” He snickers, the vibrations doing wonders to make you lose your line of thought even more. But the threat of him stopping the wonderful, wonderful things he is doing is enough for you to rack your brain for anything to say. 

“Knew more about matters of the flesh or if you meant… Aemond, Aemond, stop it! I can’t think.” You beg, on the verge of tears. Just as you are speaking, he starts sucking hard on your pearl. You have never, in your life, been as frustrated. It’s impossible to do his bidding when he is torturing you. Aemond has set you up for an impossible task. You would rather have the feeling stop than have to endure it a bit longer. Your body trembles, shaking and writing on the table. “High Valyrian!” 

“Both. A few times.” Aemond answers, and you mumble back something incoherent. You are near something, a cusp of pleasure so intense you fear you might shatter from the force of it. You scream, shrill and high, feeling your body absolutely gush at his ministrations. 

As you pant down from your high, Aemond tenderly fixes your skirts. He smooths your dress down, making sure there are no creases or suspicious stains. Completely at ease, as if he was not making you reach a peak that had your legs shaking mere moments ago, Aemond puts back on his eye patch. 

You remain laying on the table, flushed and sweaty from the exertion. He gives you a mischievous look, and leans down to kiss you. 

“Will you teach me, my Prince?” You ask, when you two part. It comes out more eager than you would have wanted, but you don’t care. You are not afraid anymore of showing how head over heels you are for him. And in the typical fashion of Targaryen men, Aemond seems to delight in the attention. 

“Trust me. I intend to.” He pulls you to a sitting position. Still shaky, you cling to him. Aemond keeps grooming you, fixing your hair and tugging at your sleeves. You rest your head against his breastbone. 

“Long engagement?” 

“Short. I would marry you tomorrow, were I able to.” He answers, as he fixes a button that had come undone in all your trashing. Then, he grabs the Second Meditation and presses it into your hand. “So?” 

“Yes. You win. Archmaester Rene is superior to Septon Immanuel.” 

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Credits: 

The ideas that Aemond and the reader are discussing belong, of course, to Kant and Descartes. The Second Meditation of Descartes as a prelude to sex was my sexual awakening, during a philosophy class at like… I don’t know. Sixteen? There is this show our philosophy teacher showed us, where a philosophy teacher is the main character.  Merlí. In the first episode, the Philosophy teacher seduces the English teacher by reciting the Second Meditation in the original French.  As the years passed, and I too entered my love and hate philosophy phase, I never lost that memory.  I really wanted to write something with it, and my Aemond’s fics tend to be more artsy. 

Also, forgive me for using philosophy from the 1500 - 1600 AC. I just can’t find it in myself to make the debate on how many angels can dance on a pinhead fascinating (That one would be period, although not Westeros, accurate) Hm. I should have gone for Aquino, maybe. 

[everlastingdream]

part 1 - part 2

"It's not your fault, Enid, and there is nothing that can be done about it. It's just the way thing are. Goody did tell me I'm destined to be alone".

"I'm- I'm so sorry, Wednesday" Enid couldn't help but whisper, not daring to look into dark eyes. "If only I..."

"If only you nothing, mi corazón", Wednesday interrupted firmly. "It wasn't your choice to begin with, and it's not something you did. Besides, even if you had a say in it, why would you choose an Addams? Even more, me?"

Enid's head snapped up. She felt her fur appearing at the back of her neck and standing up, while quiet growling started deep in her chest.

"What do you-? How are you even-? Gods, Wednesday, I never wanted to strangle you more than now!" Enid decided to ignore how Wednesday gulped, because she didn't look scared at all and Enid was too mad right now to unpack it. Her claws went deep into the wood of the bench.

"Why wouldn't I?! You are the most intelligent, cool, scary, capable, caring and beautiful person I know! I would be so lucky to- wait, I am so lucky and honored to have you as my soulmate so don't ever say something so, so... so stupid to me again!"

She ended her speech (which with every passing second became more embarrassing but no less true) right into Wednesday's shocked face. With widely open eyes she looked very cute right now.

Enid felt metal taste, only now noticing that her fangs came out too and torn a side of her bottom lip.

Wednesday slowly brought her hand to the place where a drop of blood was about to fall. But instead of wiping it, she smudged it more, shivering just a bit when Enid's breath grazed her finger.

"Eres muy hermosa en este momento", Wednesday breathed out with almost dazed look in her eyes, before catching herself.

Enid caught her retrieving hand, pressing it to her cheek, nuzzling a bit, absentmindedly searching her wrist for the scent gland she knew Wednesday as a human couldn't have.

"Enid, I would prefer to finish my book, before dying. Can you let me go?"

"I was just objectively speaking- mhn", Enid bit harder into small wrist, following with sharp eyes, how Wednesday blocked her mouth with her other hand.

"No can do", now almost halfway to wolfing out, Enid didn't bother trying to understand where her sudden obsession came from. "You see, my soulmate was thinking badly about herself, I should reassure her".

She found a spot where scent was stronger and bit there.

You see, if not for the full moon aproaching and pouring hormones into her blood, perhaps Enid wouldn't have almost transformed from sheer irritation. Maybe she would silently listen to the story only to confide herself in the room to think and overthink things, hurting Wednesday and herself.

"Say, Wens, how can someone check if they're an Addams' soulmate?" Wednesday glared at her, even if she still didn't take her hand back. Something primal in Enid preened at it. Wednesday was clearly starting to be mad, but she seemed almost helpless to resist her soulmates attention, even though she sure could.

"As I said, they can't be truly happy with another romantic partner", Wednsday tucked a strand of raven hair behind her ear in frustration, even her cheeks were not their usual deadly white. Her hair was longer now than when they were at their first meeting three years ago. And now she started to wear it loose at home more often, despite not liking being the split image of her mother.

"Go on".

"They are immediately attrected to their respective Addams and wants to be closer to them despite everything".

"Interesting", even if Enid was listening attentively, but the image of Wednesday squirming because she soothed her bite with the tongue, was starting to make her head feel hazy.

"They are- mhn, feel the urge to protect their soulmate at all cost. And the most important, after they meet their Addams they become unable to have any romantic contact with other people".

Enid froze right before biting a second time a little higher. Her fangs and claws rectracted.

"Have you finally came to your senses? Honestly, have you just wanted to tease me? I'm a bit disappointed, to be honest. Even if the full moon not far. You knew, I wouldn't joke about that and it will be painful when we retu-"

Enid just sat there dumbfounded. Did Wednsday not know? Has she had no idea?

So when she kept accidentally extend her claws when kissing Ajax, it wasn't just nerves. And when she felt the urge to get Wednesday near and safe and looking at her, it wasn't just friendship. And when she went into the woods not wolved out to protect her, it wasn't just loyalty.

Enid started to giggle. It explained so much! And if Wednesday wasn't so pessimistic all this time and explained, everything would've been different.

"Enid? Are you alright?" See, even if Wednesday seemed cold, she was caring. "Have your hormones gone to your head?"

"You are silly", Enid managed between laughter.

"Mi amor, are you okay?" Wednesday started to sound worried, bending over to Enid, who was maniacally giggling on the ground.

"I'm not. I found my soulmate, realized I've been in love with her for four years, and learned that my soulmate wanted a gruesome death so much she forgot to ask me if I love her. Isn't it a bit silly?"

Wednesday almost toppled over, and Enid tugged her stupid, stubborn, the most perfect soulmate into her arms.

"Hi, I'm Enid", she said, smiling in bewildered dark eyes, that slowly started to soften with tears and soul-crashing relief. "I think you are gorgeous inside and out and many other things I'll tell you throughout our whole lives. I've loved you since I saw you, and I'm really glad you love me too".

Someday Wednesday will make her swear she won't tell a soul that her soulmate cried.

Someday Enid will scold her for keeping all to herself, while kissing all over her tear-soaked face.

Someday they'll tell everyone to the chorus of "well dah".

But now there is just one thing that is more important than anything.

It is to sniffle a little because Enid is not made from stone and there is her love in her arms.

"I'm your soulmate!"