#There’s a period of time when he forces himself through it; of course.

[peachesofteal]

Simon with herding instinct on that physio snippet.... God what I'd do to be Reader (I'm not sick but I'm KO by my period, so I think I also deserve herding instincts and a cup of tea made by someone who is not me)

I think you deserve a little treat for your body torturing you Same reader as this (female reader)

"Fuck." You draw a deep breath through your nose and blow it out slowly, trying to push the pain away. You have a busy schedule today, and the 141 was expected to be back which meant you'd have the Lieutenant on your table at some point between now and twenty one hundred.

You do not have time for period pain.

Your appointments waltz in and out through the day, your focus turning from the stabbing, burning ache in your belly, quads and lower back, until the clock finally ticks down to nineteen hundred, and you slump over in your chair. A moment's reprieve, a second to get off your feet, exhaustion sinking into you, your longing for your bed and a heating pad stealing the whole of your attention. You can almost feel it, the hot shower, the comfort of your sheets, a cup of tea. Almost.

For now, you swallow more paracetamol and hope it lasts you through the rest of the day.

The door to the clinic swings open, and you don't need to peek outside the door of your office to know who it is.

No one has footsteps as heavy as his.

The Lieutenant.

The man you do not understand. The one who treated you like a small, fragile animal when you were sick, barging into your house and forcing you onto the couch, doling out medicine and hand feeding you warm broth. He pressed cold cloths to your forehead, held your hair and rubbed your back as you vomited.

The entire time you trembled with nerves, staring at the stitching of his balaclava, looking away each time his face turned towards yours. He hated you, why was he here?

Your fever broke, he disappeared. And the next time you saw him-

He went back to treating you just as he always did.

Coldly. Gruffly. Rudely.

Tonight would be no different.

So when you step outside and see him still in his full kit, arms folded across his chest, you wilt, already defeated, stomach tying itself in knots.

"Need m'back looked at." He barks and you fight the instinct to jump.

"Yeah, o-of course." The words are unsteady, you're unsteady, just like each time before, and he doesn't say anything else, just looks you up and down before brushing by you to get to the table.

He's the width of your workspace. Wingspan larger than should be humanly possible, width of his shoulders and back difficult to comprehend. He could tear you apart, if he wanted, so you've always treated him so carefully, staying focused, making sure you don't slip up and push his muscles too far or cause him pain. It's the same care you apply to all your patients, but with him, it's different. It's like diffusing a bomb.

His head is turned towards you as your fingers walk down the middle of his spine, working pressure points. Every time he twitches, or grunts, or even breathes deeply, you tense, but you keep your focus, kneading down to his sciatic nerve, pushing in deep, deep enough to make him groan, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.

You don't even realize he's saying your name until he shifts on the table.

"S-sorry?" His eyes are locked the space between your legs, and you follow his sight line, gasping when you see what he sees.

Red.

Your standard issue khaki pants are stained dark red at your thighs.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm," you stumble backwards, hands flying to cover yourself, scrambling on how to get yourself out of the room and into the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burn from humiliation. "I'm sorry, I uh- I'll be right back."

"Do you have another pair of pants?" He cocks his head.

I don't... I don't think so."

"Hmm." He continues to stare, and then, like he was having a conversation with himself, he swings off the table, reaching for the jacket he showed up in, before stalking towards you.

You stumble back, but you're too slow, and he catches you by your wrist, tugging you forward. You close your eyes. "Lieutenant-"

"Hush." The jacket goes around your waist, giant sleeves tied at your navel, the length of the hanging directly over where your pants are stained. You're not petite by any means, so the fact that this garment can even begin to cover you is a miracle in itself. But then again, he is massive. "Stay." He moves around the room, ducking into the other one with your desk, flicking the lights off, before grabbing the keys off the hook and shepherding you through the clinic to the front door.

"What... what're you doing?" There's a murderous look in his eye when he turns to you, and it freezes your blood.

"Takin' you home."

"I can get h-home myself." You hate the way your voice shakes.

"Covered in blood? You really want the entire base to see you like tha'?" The shame burns, and tears build on your waterline. "C'mon." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, essentially turning you into a ship with no sails, only a rudder at your back. Him.

He steers you into your house by your hips. You live directly off base, in civilian housing, luckiest of them all, if you're being honest, though in this moment, you're not sure you are so lucky.

"Leave your clothes in the sink." He orders when he lets you go, moving towards the kitchen.

"My clothes?"

"You know how to get bloodstains out of your clothes?"

"Oh, uh... n-no."

"Then..." he motions with his hands for your pants.

"Right now?" You squeak, and he nods.

"Now, pet." You fumble with the zipper and the button, hands trembling so bad you struggle with them. "Need help?"

"No! No... I got it." you get them down to your knees after a struggle, and then kick them off. Will he ask for your underwear too? He answers like he can ready your mind.

"Leave 'em on the bathroom floor. Shower, and then straight to bed."

"I'm not a child!" The protest is bold, boldest you've ever been with him, insecure, scared feelings coming forth in the outburst.

"Could've fooled me. Children need takin' care of, jus' like you." The words jam in your throat, stolen by the intensity of a cramp, and his eyes soften. "Go on up. I'll bring you somethin' for the pain, and some tea." There's no fight left in you, drained like the blood from your body, and your shoulders slump.

An hour later, in the dark, your door cracks. You're curled up in a ball, heating pad tucked against your pubic bone, buried beneath a mountain of blankets when the bed dips, the mass of the Lieutenant's weight settling next to your hip.

He sits you up, like a doll. Makes you take more paracetamol, finish a glass of water, and then pushes a hot tea in your hand.

By the time he's done, you slump back against the pillows, exhausted. Your eyelids go heavy, and he shifts you back to your side. You're too tired to argue with him, fight him, and when his fingers start applying counter pressure to your lower back, working through the tension, the tightness from your period, you let out a low moan. He chuckles. The man actually laughs.

"Why are you here?" You murmur in the dark, and he doesn't answer right away, sitting in the silence for too long.

And then-

"My mum always taught me to take care of my things."

[secretlovezz]

Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

[anantaru]

cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, semi public sex (in a library), he's insufferable, possessive (he's used to getting what he wants n wants you all for himself), a little yandere i feel like

rich boy alhaitham has never experienced the idea of not getting something he so terribly longed for— in fact, the very moment he laid his eyes on you, desire flooding his veins and invading his taste, it's with immediate certainty that he will make you his no matter what.

because you see, it has almost always been that way for him, the idea of something being too expensive has never really crossed his mind in his adult years— although it was safe to say that in order to make you stay forever, he must add more than the couple gifts he had already planned to send your way, such wasn't enough, despite the fact that they certainly would make things a whole lot more easier for him.

because who on earth doesn't like a costly, with diamonds paired piece of earrings from fontaine? hand crafted of immeasurable worth. or would you rather choose the extravagant silken garments from the nation of electro? oh, you forgot already silly? you're of course, getting both, it's on alhaitham after all.

he doesn't understand that this emotion growing in his heart might become quite dangerous in the future, although again, the man was of smart kind, highly aware of the power he held not only with his fortune alone, but his cleverness as well— and there would never be a time in his life where he couldn't utilize the one or the other, or use them all together to get the result he planned to achieve.

dear, dearer, dearest you, alhaitham ponders, as long as the sun was alive, as long as desire merges with his addiction,

"i will pursue you".

alhaitham knows that from the bottom of his heart, he will make you his, and not just have you for a short period of time during those special days— where two people simply let go of steam, soft fingertips glissading over the edges of sweaty skin as you're wrapped around his fingers, the slight swell of your lips, the strong blush on his cheeks, both vividly showing that the two of you cannot keep your hands away from each other.

as expected, you find yourself hidden behind a bookshelf in the house of daena, and alhaitham kisses you like he has been imagining it for decades on end, soft lips dancing over yours as he forces his tongue past your mouth, his hands greedily skimming through your trembling figure— soul catching soul, like each touch of him felt like it was searing through you, burning your clothes.

there, in those precise rolls of fingers repeatedly crossing your sensitive nipples, alhaitham makes himself acquainted with your trace as he graciously feels around the curves of your body and how well you reacted to his touch, kiss and tremble— an immediate reminder for him that you like it when he touched you like that, lapped his tongue over yours like that or pressed his muscular thigh against your wet cunt like that.

alhaitham was cruel in a way— one might even go as far as to assume that pairing an excessively clever man with a boundless amount of money harbors a much darker meaning in on itself.

but right now, he was slightly cruel to you as well when it becomes more and more painful and he knows, he always does, especially when he notices how you're having trouble breathing from his antics, quite wobbly on your footing as you look up at him through soft eyes, lips parted when each kiss of him made your heart clench, unknowing of everything, only waiting until he finally fucks you like you wanted to.

what you do not realize is that rich boy alhaitham was already weak for you, and he could barely wait himself, his mind fighting with his rationality, being overthrown by nothing more than the addictive scent of your perfume blossoming across the skin on your neck.

he flips you around instantly, your figure now squished between his chest and the bookshelf before he flicks your skirt up with ease, almost territorial like he's the only one allowed to do that from now on, frenziedly touching and loving your body like he needed you to breathe and stay alive, like it's only you who can make him be this way.

"ahh— fuck," he gasps into the back of your neck, his hot breath planing across the skin and manifesting a strong shiver down your spine, "i love those earrings on you," as he trails off, your hips twisting and twitching when he finds them with his hands, repeatedly pistoling his thick shaft into you until the lewd, squelching noises of skin on skin were overturning your little whimpers, smack smack smack, it's only getting louder— so alhaitham uses one hand to quickly close one palm around your noisy mouth.

he thinks it's adorable how you forgot that you were still in a library, yet it only showed him that he was doing everything right, only a little more until you're all his.

the scribe has got you covered, okay? alhaitham needs you to realize that from now on, you have nothing to worry about anymore, so please get that into your pretty head! you're far too delicate and pretty to trouble yourself with something such as stress, not anymore— because wether it was intimacy you craved, love you sought after or money you needed,

alhaitham has got you.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Baby, Mine

Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot

Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.

Bonus Chapter/Part 2

Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination

“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”

“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.

Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.

“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.

“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”

There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.

“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”

And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.

So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.

Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.

As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.

She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.

Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”

“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”

Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”

“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”

She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“

“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”

Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,

“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”

He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”

She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”

And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”

Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”

At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.

A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”

“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”

She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.

The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.

Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.

Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.

Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.

Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.

But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.

As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.

Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.

He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.

“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.

A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.

As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”

He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”

Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”

“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”

“He doesn’t deserve her.”

Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”

“At the Town House.”

Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”

Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.

“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”

“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”

Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,

“Secrets”

“Secrets”

He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.

“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”

Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.

“Easy brother.”

Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.

“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.

“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”

Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”

Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.

Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”

“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”

“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.

Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”

She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.

“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”

Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.

“She kicked for the first time the other day.”

Rhys raised a brow.

Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”

Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.

“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“

Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.

“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”

Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”

“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”

As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”

Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”

“Okay, quieter than usual.”

Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”

“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”

She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.

Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.

She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”

Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”

She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”

“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.

“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”

Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”

She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”

A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”

Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.

Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”

And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.

It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.

The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.

“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.

“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”

Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”

Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”

He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”

————————-

“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.

“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”

“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”

“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”

“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”

“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”

“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”

“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.

Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”

“Are you ready for this?” He asked.

“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.

Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”

She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”

“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.

She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”

“I know better than to go against your intuition.”

With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”

As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”

She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”

As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.

The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.

Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”

Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.

She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.

“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.

Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.

“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”

An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.

“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”

Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.

“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”

The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.

Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”

“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”

Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”

“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.

“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”

Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”

Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”

Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.

“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.

Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”

She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.

“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”

She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.

The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”

Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.

Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”

Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.

————————-

Epilogue

Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.

He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.

Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”

Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”

Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”

The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”

Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”

Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”

Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

beautiful mess | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc

notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”

His playful words didn’t register in your mind.

Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.

“Sweetheart?”

Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.

A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.

That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.

Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.

A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”

You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.

“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.

Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….

“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”

Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.

He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.

Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.

Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.

“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”

You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.

I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”

Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.

You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”

You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”

He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”

He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.

What is love without a little suffering?

His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.

You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.

So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.

“Always,” he whispered in return.

Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.

“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”

Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.

Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.

“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”

“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”

In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.

The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.

It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.

You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."

He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”

[earthtooz]

one big brain dump tbh but a lot of fluff and swearing !

you fall for bakugou katsuki first.

he's unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with in the hero world. many have had their eyes on bakugou ever since he was a mere hero course student. safe to say he did not disappoint.

now climbing to one of the top hero spots, dynamight is widely adored by japan. despite crowning one of the most 'undesirable' personalities a hero can have, his fans equated him to a pomeranian and moved on to the latest papparazi photo taken at the time.

before the public, you adored bakugou katsuki first.

as a classmate, he pushed you to your limit without even knowing, invigorating you with a spirit to keep fighting. as a friend (you got there in the end), he entertained you with his grumbling, liked to carry your bag for you despite your reluctance, and kept you company throughout rigorous study periods.

somewhere along the way, you realised you adored bakugou katsuki, a lot more than friends should.

now as a coworker in his agency, he keeps you company during late hours, sends you off on missions with a 'come back alive, idiot', and delivers you gifts when things are going rough.

fate plays her cards and bakugou katsuki now finds himself falling even harder for you. five years after your revelation.

when he looks you in the eye there is something akin to determination in them and it alights pure admiration in his veins. despite your kindness, you are strengthened by ambition and purpose alone, and he finds himself caught in your magnetic field.

but these newfound feelings come to him as effortlessly as water flows down a stream after a downpour; destined to feel this way for you, helpless against the currents of life. after a long drought, he feels refreshed and rejuvenated by the energy you bring to his life.

he loves the little notes you stick on his desk, often paired with smiley faces, stupid jokes, or reminders that range from 'drink water!' or 'see you at the meeting at 1! :p'. he loves the daily lunch runs you have together, sometimes it's easier to get to work when he knows you're there with him. he loves that you're workout buddies, always giving him extra 'fun' challenges during his session by sitting atop him during push-ups or planks, or clinging to him like a koala as he does pull-ups.

bakugou katsuki loves you so naturally that you've been embedded in the little cracks of the hectic lives you both lead.

you're his homescreen and lockscreen, there's a plushie you gave him in third year sitting in his large-ass bedroom, there's a photo of you and him on his office desk, even more polaroids at home, and there's a designated mug for you in his cabinet for when you come over. it's used approximately twice a week.

bakugou doesn't want to show it, really, he doesn't, but he finds himself staring at you too often, too softly. there's a multitude of paparazzi photos of you two, the cameras catching the obvious shift in his eyes when it's you he's next to, looking at you with a grin as you ramble excitedly to him.

mina's never fails to send one whenever she sees them.

she even sent him a photo that was taken whilst he was walking through the street, too engaged with his phone to realise cameras pointed at him. the wild part is that there is a gentle, heartfelt smile etched on his face.

‘texting y/n? down bad.’

the acid user was blocked that day. she was right though.

the sad part is that he can recall exactly which text you sent that had him that giddy; it was a selfie of you and a pomeranian from patrol, paired with some joke that you found bakugou whilst out. whilst he would've blown anyone up who made the comparison to his face, he found himself zooming in on your bright smile, heart aching with a familiar longing.

he hates you. he hates you so bad that it hurts not to have you.

every reminder that you weren't his pains him even more. at his core, bakugou is nothing more than a bitter, jealous son of a bitch, but he can't help it. he's sacrificed too much to get to the top, but he doesn't want to lose you.

not when you look so beautiful- so ethereal laughing with that extra ‘hero’, monoma. under the gala lights, in your outfit, you were truly beautiful, and bakugou finds himself stunned by your allure, stomping over to you in a vulnerable moment of bewitchment.

he doesn't know how many people he pushed aside in the crowd, ignoring their grunts and gasps to reach you.

you, sweet, radiant, undeniable you find him first, meeting him in the middle with an even brighter smile.

despite being in the middle of a stuffy, packed floor, filled to the brim with heroes, sidekicks, reporters and managers alike, it is only you and bakugou. the intimacy causes him to feel overwhelmed by your glow; the tie he's donning suddenly tightening around his neck, causing him to choke on his words.

there's a sudden urge to get to his knees and start praising the ground you stand on.

"hi," you murmur.

"hey,” he responds, briefly scanning you up and down. “you look nice.”

you laugh at his compliment, masking the violent heartbeat of your chest. "thank you, katsuki. i think you look dashing."

the blond offers you his arm. you take it without much thought. "of course i do. if i wanna stand next to you i have to look worthy of it."

you fall first for bakugou katsuki.

but he's waiting at the bottom to catch you in his arms.

[daisies-daydreams]

TWST Housewardens During Your Period (Headcanons)

Header Credit: Disney Pairing: Multi Scenario x F!Reader Category: Fluff/Light Angst Tags: Depictions of Periods/PMS, Mentions of Body Issues, Physical Affection, Non-Sexual Nudity (Leona's Part), Vil/Leona Being Rude, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Word Count: 1.3k+ Summary: Your boyfriend helps you cope with that time of the month in his own way. A/N: I was inspired by my ancient Fire Force headcanons to make one for TWST! I hope you enjoy! 😊 (Headcanons below the cut)

Riddle Rosehearts, whose face gets as red as his hair when he realizes what you mean when you say you're experiencing "that time of the month". Sure, he's heard of periods...but he's not exactly well-equipped to help someone who has them.

He hesitantly asks for advice from his close friends, his arms crossed and gaze awkwardly shifting around the room. Despite the discomfort he feels talking about the subject, he wants to make sure his darling is well taken care of. You're surprised when he returns to you with every pad, tampon and cup known to mankind, stating that he's "ready to help".

His face grows even more red when you smile and kiss his cheek, telling him you appreciate his kind heart. After he gets more in a routine of helping you through your period, he'll start making you hot, fresh tea for you to sit back and relax with. He also enjoys reading to you, his voice lulling you to sleep as he smiles softly and kisses the top of your head.

༺♥༻

Leona Kingscholar, who is the embodiment of the "what pussy size you wear?" meme. But in all seriousness, he knows when it's getting closer to your time of the month since you'll want to cuddle more during his long nap sessions (not that he minds). He'll keep his strong arms curled around your stomach as the two of you spend a lazy day in bed.

While he initially starts your relationship with a "tough love" attitude, being with you during your period helps teach him how to be more empathetic and caring with his S/O. Leave it to Leona to accidentally say something insensitive, only for his ears to lower as you begin to cry or send a harsh, silent glare at him.

However, if there's one thing he is good at, it's making sure to spoil you with a nice, long bubble bath. He'll gently massage all the aches and knots out of your muscles before pulling you against him, his chin resting on top of your head as he relaxes with you after a long day (just don't be surprised if he falls asleep).

༺♥༻

Azul Ashengrotto, who grows worried when he finds you curled up on his couch in his private office at the Monstro Lounge. He frowned when you sniffed and told him you felt "fat", a sentiment he relates to a little too well (for different reasons, of course). He'll gently sit beside you, his voice calm and soothing as he gently reassures you that, no matter your size, you're absolutely gorgeous. Azul will remind you as many times as you need, whether it's ten or a thousand times.

Despite his divided attention between the lounge and his role at NRC, he's more than willing to set time aside to spend it with you. Whether you want to watch a movie, go to your favorite restaurant, or just rest in bed, he swears to be there for you as much as he can.

His favorite thing to do is surprise you by cleaning up for you (with a little help from two eel brothers, *cough* *cough*). Need your dishes done? They're washed, dried and put away. Laundry still in the hamper? It's already finished and hung up in your closet. Every surface of your living space is immaculate by the time he's done, and the look of relief on your face always giving him a soft, warm smile.

༺♥༻

Idia Shroud, who nearly passes out when you message him that you're experiencing the most brutal cramps of your life and you ran out of pads and pain medicine at the worst possible time. Being the amazing boyfriend that he is, he opted to disguise himself to go in public and buy you some (sunglasses and all).

Despite not telling you, he went ahead and created an app that keeps track of your ovulation cycle. Not to be weird...but to make sure he's kept up-to-date on what to expect and when he's going to preorder your favorite snacks, pads/tampons/cups, and other essentials (Side Note: I stand by the headcanon that he gets his S/O plushies to cheer them up).

If you're into anime like him, he'll make sure you're nice and comfy on his bed with a heating pad before putting on your favorite show. Of course, he loves to snuggle with you beneath his blankets during this (he'll be a blushing mess all over again if you chose to give him forehead/temple kisses during your watch party, but he'll always return those kisses in kind).

༺♥༻

Malleus Draconia...who has no idea what to do. Lilia never quite got around to explaining it to him other than "the basics", so he's left completely in the dark until you came along. His face grows even more pale as you explain how painful your period is with cramps, bloating, and other uncomfortable symptoms you struggled with. His heart aching for his beloved enduring such a thing.

He seemed a bit taken aback when Lilia looked a little uncomfortable when he nagged him for every detail about a woman's menstrual cycle, to which the Fae replied with "every woman is different" and elaborated a bit on some pointers.

The next day, Malleus appeared on your doorstep with a few grocery bags and an averted gaze. Your smile made his reluctance dissipate as you pulled out all sorts of goodies: candy, a homemade heating pad, and even a small dragon plushie! His expression is much more confident when you thank him for the gifts. Now whenever it's your time of the month, Malleus has a stock pile of blankets, heating pads, and other essentials ready to make a warm nest of comfort for you.

༺♥༻

Vil Schoenheit, who (at first) judges you for letting your skincare routine lapse...only to quickly backtrack when you start sobbing and tell him you're on your period. He quickly makes up for it by buying you several decadent flower bouquets and chocolate covered strawberries the very next day, a sweet apology card also included in the bounty of goodies.

Since Vil is more focused on wellbeing, he won't always buy you sweet or salty food you may crave during your period. He'll get you plenty of water and fruit, though, and make sure to keep you motivated with compliments and praise if you're experiencing negative moods (he may go overboard from time to time, though you don't mind).

One day, while he was away filming a new TV show, you found a intricately decorated care package on your doorstep filled with everything you'll need. It became a tradition from then on (whether he was out filming or not) to send these personal packages, each including a heartfelt, hand-written note that remind you just how beautiful and amazing you are.

༺♥༻

Kalim Al-Asim, who pampers you endlessly. He has over thirty siblings, many of which (I assume) are girls, so he'd have a good understanding of periods. So when he finds you hiding beneath your covers with a heating pad draped over your stomach, he knows it's time to spoil you.

Do you want/need a massage? Hon, he's already got the lavender oil on hand. Mani-pedi? If he won't do it for you, he'll do it with you at the spa! And while he grew up wealthy, he's not afraid to hand-feed you your favorite food (especially since he gets to see your sweet smile).

Kalim is also mentally and emotionally ready to help you process your shifting moods during your time of the month. Even if you snap at him, he's always quick to forgive you. He has a box of tissues in his room ready to go as he gently rubs your back as you sob, reassuring you that you're not alone and he loves you so, so much. And he always will.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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[simpjaes]

hiii i really like your writing style and how you portray the characters(?? how do i refer to the members 😭)

i wanted to ask if you would do hyung line reaction to getting walked in on while having sex w their s/o?

like e.g. if heeseung was banging his girl and jake walked in the room to get smth what would be his reaction

hyung line + being walked in on mid-fuck

tags: cucking, masturbation, sunghoon and jay walk in on each other, jake and heeseung walk in on each other.

mdni.

☆ jay:

well, first of all, the doors are LOCKED if jay is balls deep. he likes to take his time, likes to not have to worry about anything else but you and him, and loves the privacy of being the only person who gets to see you so vulnerable and spread out for him. of course, there are rare occasions where the arousal is through the roof and he's lucky he even gets you into his bedroom before dropping to his knees and forcing one of your legs over his shoulder just so he can get his mouth on you. on the rare occasion where Sunghoon does walk in, typically he's going to let out a long, frustrated groan before shooting a look of daggers at his friend. Doesn't change the fact that the image of Jay on his knees with his tongue buried in the pussy of his very pretty and moaning girlfriend is burned into Sunghoon's brain though. Would probably end in hoon trying to walk in on it as often as he can. If not that, would end in hoon fucking his fist in his room simply imagining how good his roommate is probably giving it to you. [disclaimer, i am a whore for jay and i almost wrote him as the opposite. where he 100% hotwifes his girl and loves seeing her get pleasure whenever and however she wants it, even if it's from his own roommate lol.]

★ jake:

jake doesn't notice til you try and tell him to stop. and when you tell him heeseung just walked in, he keeps going. maybe even comments like "so what?" Sometimes he's so into that he's well aware heeseung is being a pervert and still doesn't care. even encouraging you to ignore him, or to simply keep your eyes on him and not on heeseung because he can't bare to stop right now, not with how fucking good your pussy feels. little comments like "shh, just focus on me." or he says nothing at all and fucks into you deeper so you couldn't care less either. heeseung on the other hand, was awkward at first but now genuinely just sits back and enjoys the show. will literally take a seat sometimes and start palming against his pants at how the two of you literally fucking lose your minds enough to not give a shit that he's getting something out of it too. Sometimes he even finds himself wondering what it feels like to be so empty-headed and pussy drunk like Jake always is, so lost in the sauce that he'd allow his roommate to jerk off to his girlfriend getting railed.

☆ sunghoon:

sunghoon shows shame at first when Jay walks in and quickly stutters out an apology. It's an awkward situation, knowing his roommate and best friend is currently seeing him with his girlfriend's legs on his shoulders. He tries to stop, really. His head snaps to Jay in surprise but you'd clench around him so tightly in your own shock that instantly his eyes roll back and he lets out a moan instead of an apology. His hips would move on their own, fucking tightly into you with furrowed brows. He'd be so apologetic about it, as would jay. HOWEVER, jay wouldn't be able to look away. His hand would be on the door knob, he'd be trying to find a way to apologize himself for what he's witnessing, but the words would never come. He would never quite leave. Not until, like, you know, his cock is throbbing and he needs to take care of it before he cums in his pants at the mere image of you snapping your eyes to him mid-moan.

★ heeseung:

Heeseung does not give a fuck who is seeing. If he's fucking you, he's fucking you. Point. Blank. Period. Nothing and no one will stop him from giving you what you need, nor will anything stop him from getting what he needs. So, when Jake fucking prances into his room muttering something about a missing sock, all he can do is sigh in frustration before narrowing his eyes at jake, still thrusting into you while he does it. however, the way you clench upon Jake walking in, and the way you're suddenly moaning a bit louder, heeseung snaps his head back to you. His brow quirks as he processes the new information given to him by your body alone. He smiles, and then he fucks you harder, making deep, whispered comments loud enough for Jake to hear. "Oh? You like that?" and "go on then, spread that pussy for him baby, show him." Jake would find himself in a frenzy of aroused feelings. Shocked, confused, embarrassed, so fucking hard. Like, wow, he's more embarrassed for you than he is for heeseung or himself witnessing each other in a state like this. You really take it too. jake would watch on, seeing all of the things you let heeseung do to with without a single argument. Whatever hole heeseung wants, he gets, and he just fucking shows you off to jake in a way that's like "look what I have, look how pretty she is, look what she lets me to do her." jealousy is an understatement, but hey, at least heeseung lets him full on get his cock out and sometimes even lets him cum on your face.

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Veritas Ratio hc's

Out of all the hsr men, I'd imagine he'd be the most irritated figuring out he has a crush

A crush? A stupid little manifestation of his irrational emotions???

He'll stew over it a while, picking it apart like the most complex of equations, his stoic expression not wavering

So what if he's around you often? So what if he unconsciously seeks you out, it doesn't mean anything...

He'll hammer that narrative over and over until it becomes truth, or as close to truth as his mind will allow

You'll act like a married couple, though

He'll scold you without any real irritation, eyes narrowing as he pulls you closer to just fix the problem himself

A leaf in your hair? Your sleeve unrolled? Coffee stain on your shirt?

Honestly, how could you be such a careless mess...

Wait, no. No don't go, you're his careless mess—

It'll become a new normal to just have him occasionally once over your appearance, looking for things he can fix and doing so without a word

He also takes it upon himself to make you a healthier and more rounded person

No you're not eating garbage calories for the third meal in a row, yes you are drinking a full glass of water as he reads you excerpts from his book on how quantum chemistry applies to theoretical engineering under Nous's 63rd law of imaginary quantum information science, and there will be a quiz after so pay attention

If asked about why he's often seen by your side, he'll usually answer with a glare and an insult, commenting on the lack of even borderline decent conversationalists around

You're probably not really going to get an actual confession out of him, because that would force him to admit defeat to those annoyingly persistent feelings that just won't leave him be

If you take the initiative of backing him into a corner, you get to watch him flounder a bit, an expression of agitation and a growing warmth throughout his whole body as he skirts the topic with overly complex excuses

He's a big fan of doing different things in the same space, talking isn't necessary

Occasionally, when he remembers you're still there, he'll glance up from his book to see how you're faring, before getting back into it

He has a bit of a staring problem, in a way

It's just that he's so up in his head often, usually easily loosing sight of his surroundings, and you just happen to be the most pleasing thing to keep his eyes on

He'll look away when he notices you staring back, but it's not long before you feel his eyes trained on you again, as if studying every little movement as he works out equations in his head

Of course he does need alone time, usually spent reading in the bath

But that period seems to be getting shorter and shorter as his focus is constantly broken by unconditionally looking around to find you while deep in thought

He will absolutely use you as a blank canvas to throw ideas and thoughts on if he can't work through something in his head

By explaining it to you in mind numbing detail, he'll usually run headfirst into the solution, and it's a treat to watch his eyes widen ever so slightly as he pauses, immediately thanking you curtly before moving straight to writing

Your sense of curiosity is his favorite trait, the one he wants to nurture and encourage you to feed

He's not expecting you to be as smart as him, that would be an impossible expectation, but he will not allow you to give in to ignorance, to get in the habit of complacency, as it is the enemy of growth

He's an intimidating figure to most, both from his status and sharp tongue, so it's not uncommon for low-level scientists with something to prove to seek you out

Sometimes to get information on him, sometimes to test your intelligence, as if trying to prove themselves better than the company the great Dr. Ratio chooses to keep

He's quick to nip that in the bud, though

His crossed arm stoic faced glare would scare away anyone who isn't keen on being picked apart verbally

He'll claim it's all to avoid tainting you with their idiocracy, and that you really shouldn't keep such company

Tries to use selfish logical excuses constantly to get things he wants from you

"I've already chosen your hotel room for this trip, it'll be next to mine so I don't have to travel as far to compare notes in the morning."

"Honestly. You're coming with me to dinner so I won't waste my time working around your schedule later."

"No. You are absolutely not going to get a closer look at those monsters because I'm not cleaning up the mess you'll no doubt get yourself into by being so reckless."

"You're really going to waste your valuable time entertaining those IPC buffoons? They have more credits than brain cells. Stay here, lest their ignorance rub off on you."

He means well, under the insults and unapproachable demeanor

And, at a certain point, he really can't imagine the rest of his life without you close by

[mattsdolll]

𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 . . ୨୧

hockeyplayer!matt x quietgirl!reader

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . their entire lives they've always had a strong disliking towards eachother, what happens when matt makes her cry? i've never wrote anything like this so feel free to critique ! this is soo cliché😭 ib: august by chase atlantic. enemies to lovers, somewhat forced proximity ??,kinda angst, smut, mention of panic attacks, no use of y/n, p in v, unprotected sex.

this is my first time writing semi-angst & smut so this is kinda basic and i lowkey hate this fic but i love the concept of it. more work coming soon since i'm finally out of my tumblr slump & will be more active, in honor of me back in my chase atlantic phase..

"how do we expect to be anything when we don't try to be anything?"

2.8k words

enjoy🤍

year eleven was tough on everyone, matt especially. he had always struggled with school but with hockey and midterms he was stressed. next year was graduation & everybody had to take school very seriously in the hopes they'd pass. he had a couple of friends aside from his brothers, most who he didn't speak to much. nick and chris were the few people that were keeping him sane during this period of his life, he hated it. hockey was his escape, it let him get his pent up frustration out in a healthy way. you and matt had never gotten along, as pathetic as it sounded you were "rivals".

your relationship with matt was agnostic, for no particular reason there was just a strong disliking towards you on his end - or so you thought. you were too busy doing better things in your life. you could never pinpoint why but he just couldn't tolerate you. your entire lives he just seemed stand-offish about you. about a year and a half ago, everything changed for the worse. you had gotten into a massive argument over something trivial, your memories of the fight were vague. ever since then you had ignored him and he returned the favor. he had taken a liking to one of your closest friend and you had an issue with it, believing she deserved better, she did. you could almost hear the anger coursing through his veins as he screamed at you that night

"you can't just fucking do that! i liked her and you..you messed up everything! i wish you would just-" the brunettes words echoed through your head, he was furious, frustrated and deeply hurt, you couldn't see that at the time. you wondered if you were wrong in trying to protect your friend. you wondered if he had good morals. you wondered if you made a mistake, did you make him hate you?

you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts, your teacher calling on you to present your assignment to the class, the eyes of your classmates staring into the back of your head as you made your way to the front of the dull room. you began your presentation, a lame low effort articulation of your view on mental health until you met his gaze. the brunettes eyes pierced through your soul, that look of pure concentration was bothering you, it was somewhat troublesome, he wanted you to mess up, he knew the eye contact would make you lose focus, you pathetically stammered over your words. you forced the rest of your speech out of your mouth, returning to your seat, he smirked to himself, his eyes following your body as you walked. you wanted to crawl into a hole and die, you hated public speaking or expressing your feelings vocally, it was something you'd struggled with as a child, he knew that.

it was a cold night in august, fall dawning upon the small town. the leaves slowly dying, sweaters being worn, pumpkin spice becoming the not so new trend. one of your close friends had offered you tickets to the game tonight, held at the school's ice rink. you were hesitant. she gave her ticket to you because she had gotten sick and didn't want to put the ticket to waste. you had no plans tonight, never mind getting ready to actually leave your bed. you took a hot shower, the scorching water streaming down your body. you blow dried your hair, straightening it and tying a low ponytail, lacing a black bow around the brunette locks. you threw on baggy jeans along with a black tank top, small silver hoop earrings and white sneakers, along with a black jacket draped over your arm. you drove to the venue with heavy eyes. you touched up your mascara and lip gloss in the mirror, the remnants of your makeup from earlier still evident on your face. you made your way into the school stadium, the cool breeze of the ice hitting your skin.

the game was somewhat boring to you, you had no idea what it meant to shoot or what dribbling was, but you tried to make the most of it. there he was, only a few meters away from you. the boy skated around the ice flawlessly, the void-like pit in your stomach felt full, your insides fluttering. you couldn't help but be impressed, you had never seen him play before, you never realized he was so good. he scored a few goals, the score was 7-5. his team was ahead, until the opposing team knocked matt out of the way, causing him to tumble over, falling on the ice. the crowd gasped, the opposing team scoring three points for their goal. matt hit his mouth against his helmet, blood leaking from his lips, he skated to the bench, cleaning up. you felt suspense building in your stomach, his appearance disheveled, hair scruffy, face sweaty, you couldn't help but think he looked..different. were you enjoying this?

apparently you were, you didn't exactly like matt, you just enjoyed watching the games, the games where he was the most important player, over and over and over..seeing him get so frustrated, it was like some kind of amusing pastime. after one of the many games you'd attended. during one of the mid-season games, his team on a winning streak. he had "finally" spotted you in the crowd while on the ice, he nearly choked on his spit, seeing you watching him play, he felt a sense of cockiness rush through him, the urge to win now unbearable. he needed to prove how good he was, but why? he scored the winning point, his team cheering and celebrating, his friends lifted him up over their heads. on their way to the locker rooms. you took in the familiar sight of his disheveled, ruined appearance, drinking in the sight. he caught you staring, however, a cocky grin spreading across the boys lips. you attempted to mask your embarrassment but it was too late, he kicked off his gear in the locker room, changing everything but that hockey jersey. the short sleeved top hung off his body perfectly, the color contrasting his eyes.

"stalking me now?" he teased, sitting next to you on the bleachers, the way he sat so confidently all of a sudden, not like his usual self, his demeanor was alluring, you had never felt this way about him until now. well maybe since last month. "i wasn't stalking you, i had nothing better to do tonight" you tried to protest, he simply chuckled. "yeah? and last week, the week before..and before.." he drawled cockily, he had seen you, every game, gawking at him. how could you not have noticed? "you don't talk much, hm? didn't get taught how to communicate growing up?" you went quiet, you hated talking, you were never allowed to growing up. you had developed this "don't talk unless spoken to" mindset and it carried on into your school career, resulting in you having little to no friends. it was a very touchy subject to you and you hated how badly it got to you.

matt was only teasing, trying to make a conversation until the tears brimming your eyes almost instantly made matts cocky grin disappear, his expression now evident with worry. you felt the familiar feeling of your throat closing up, your heart began to throb harder. you couldn't even mutter out a word, you got up and headed out in fear of breaking down in front of him, the last person on earth you'd want to look weak in front of. you settled on the grass by a small garden on the school grounds outside a now locked and empty classroom.

the second you took off matt knew he had made a mistake, he rushed after you, somehow losing you in the process. he found you eventually, sitting down with your knees to your chest, calming yourself down. and in that moment, he saw himself in you. he knew how it felt, the horror washing over you as the air deflated from your lungs, your throat tightening, he hated that feeling. he knew it all too well. he needed to provide you some sense of comfort, solace from his touch. he made his way to you and sat next to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. "hey..breathe, you're okay." he whispered reassuring words into your ear. you weren't having a full blown panic attack like you usually would, but this was still bad. you felt the feeling slowly ease out of your body, you felt like you could breathe again. "thats it..doing so good.." he whispered into your ear, stroking your arm. his words went straight to your core, something about the tone or the resonance of his voice in that moment did something to you, you felt your inner thighs become drenched, your heat beginning to ache.

"i'm so sorry, yeah? i didn't mean to make you cry tonight, or that night last year, i liked her, a lot. she never spoke to me or even looked at me, i just wanted her. i was right there but she was busy doing other things, she was everything to me, her smile, her teeth when she smiled, her hair..that haircut, the way it shaped her face..i..i was in love, okay? and i couldn't have her." he rambled out. the things he had described were some kind of literary illusion. this "girl" he was describing was nothing like the girl he so called wanted. this "girl" he was describing didn't resemble her at all actually. this "girl" was you.

all along, he wanted you. you never wanted him back, but you wanted him now. was it too late? did you miss your chance? did he still have feelings for you? why did he ignore you for a year? your thoughts rushed through your brain scatteredly as you tried to form a single word. he tilted your face towards his, seeing that panicked expression written on your face. he wiped the tears that stained your cheeks, trying to make it up to you. you gazed up into his eyes, noticing the different shades of blue and slight haze of grey in them. you noticed the tiny freckles on his face, so slight you could only see them under the moonlight, you noticed the way his curls fell over his forehead so perfectly as if sculpted in God's vision precisely. he was so perfect. you held eye contact for a few seconds, you wished you could, taste him, savor him. you batted your eyelashes at him, and that was all it took to drive him insane; your eyes. the specks of color in them were so beautiful.

he noticed the pleading look in your eyes, as if you were begging for him to do it. it did him in. the last bit of his conscience telling him to stop fell away, and all that was left was his urge to kiss you. he got a bit closer, his hands still resting on your face as he inched his face closer to yours. he tilted your jaw and pressed his swollen lips into yours. your eyes fluttered shut, giving into his touch. the kiss lasted for what felt like hours. he prodded his tongue against you, silently begging you to let him kiss you deeper, his hands finding their way to your jaw, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue massaging yours. you felt yourself gravitating back toward the grass, him laying you down gently. his hand cupped the back of your head before you hit the ground.

it felt like sweet relief, pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on fire from how desperate you were for him in that moment. he hovered over you, gently kissing you. you tugged his jersey, pulling him further into you. your nails scratched down his back, almost hard enough to draw blood, drawing a guttural moan from him. he looked down at you desperately, your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips

"i want this"

you whispered softly, finally vocalizing your wants. a new experience to you, yet it felt perfect with him. he looked down at you for reassurance. "yeah? you want this, pretty?" he cooed softly, your pussy ached. you gave a weak nod for him, giving him permission to touch you. "i want this, please." he sucked and nipped at your neck, pressing against you more, his touch gentle but eager. you writhed underneath him, the sensations throughout your nerves becoming unbearable. "matt..do you want this?" he paused briefly, staring at your face. "yeah pretty, i want this, i want you." his lips latched onto yours, trailing hot open mouthed kisses along your neck. his hips subconsciously rolled against yours rhythmically.

you felt his now hard cock pressing against your thigh, causing you to moan softly. you couldn't describe how badly you wanted him, he wanted you just as much, he was just hesitant to take you right then and there, in the middle of a garden. he wanted it to be special, but his need was overlapping his thoughts. he kissed you once more before pulling away. "need to feel you, fuck- pretty..please?" the boy begged, you nearly salivated at the sight. you gave a quick nod to which he quickly took his shirt off, hooking his fingers under the loops in your jeans, tugging them down. you quickly pulled your shirt off as well. he slowly stripped you of your clothes, leaving yourself in nothing but underwear. he groaned at the image, tugging his own pants down, his hard dick slapping against his stomach. it wasn't huge, but it was definitely big. his cock twitched in his hand as he pumped it a few times, pre-cum leaking furiously from the reddened tip.

you watched him in pleasure as he slowly approached you, lifting your hips a little. "lift your hips f'me" he mumbled, holding you in place. he pulled your panties down slowly and teasingly, you winced as the cold air hit your pussy. he rubbed his tip up and down your folds, admiring you. "such a pretty girl, hm? all f'me.." you crumbled, whimpering pathetically. a small smirk tugged on his lips as he eased into you, stretching your walls out. you groaned at the burn, it was uncomfortable but felt so good. he pulled out halfway before gently thrusting his hips into you again, letting you adjust a little. "fuck, angel youre so tight..have you never been fucked before?" he mewled, feeling you clench around him. you shaked your head weakly, pulling a desperate moan from him. he gradually picked up his pace, his cock going deeper with each thrust.

your pain faded into pleasure, small gasps leaving your swollen lips, he watched your tits bounce with each thrust, finding it incredibly endearing. he leaned his lips down to your nipple, sucking at the flesh gently. you laced your fingers through his loose locks, tugging the curls. he loved it, moaning against your breast. a string of saliva left his lips as he pulled his face up to look at you, your fucked out expression causing his cock to twitch harder. he buried his nose into your neck, speeding up more. the sound of skin slapping echoed through the halls, he panted softly. "shit, angel..'m so close..gonna cum, can i cum inside you, baby?" he whispered into your ear, how could you deny him when he begged so sweetly? you nodded, threading your fingers in his hair, the knot in your stomach beginning to unwind.

his thrusts grew sloppy, his cock twitching desperately. your walls enveloped him deeper and deeper. you gripped his shoulders, a pathetic whimper fell from his lips as his orgasm washed over him like a wave. cum spurted from his tip, painting your insides. your orgasm soon washed over you as well, both your liquids mixing at some point in the process. he slowly and carefully pulled out, looking down at you nervously. "was that okay? did i do good?" your jaw almost fell open, how could he ask that? "matt..that was fucking amazing" you mumbled softly, drawing a smile from his lips. he giggled softly, collapsing on you. he was like a whole new person, you barely recognized him. "yeah? i did good?" he giggled. you smiled sleepily. "mhm, so good."

he planted a gentle kiss to your lips, brushing a strand of messy hair out of your face. "pretty" he whispered admiringly. "can i take you home?" you nodded a little. you couldn't believe your life. you just had sex with the guy who you thought hated you for nearly two years, then again, how could you expect to be anything when you don't try to be anything?

. . .

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader

Simon's short term rental is almost claustrophobic.

He tries to stay out of it, tries to keep himself busy. Active. After a week since you asked him to go home, to give you some space, he noticed he's lost weight. The thick of his ribs, his stomach, his thighs, has thinned out, cutting his bulk, exposing more muscle.

The grief feels more fresh than it has in years. Talking to you, telling you, has dredged up long buried things, agony and regret, pain that steals his breath and leaves him paralyzed. He forces himself not to think of it, but it still finds a way to creep in. To make him feel torn apart, turns him into a ghost.

He walks a lot. Walks to the store. Walks to the pub. Walks to the park. Sometimes he sits on the bench and watches mums push their buggies, wondering if it's something you might enjoy, if you were feeling better. Wishing he had made more of an effort to get you out of the flat, into the sunshine.

He's still walking to your building at night, standing under the tree, watching the lights flicker on and off. Your windows stay lit longer now, periods of sleep more infrequent, leaving him to worry that you're not getting enough rest, not taking care of yourself.

He walked all morning into early afternoon today. Tried to quell the nausea swirling in his stomach, tried not to watch the clock, or count the seconds. Tried to brace himself for the bittersweet he knew was coming.

>Hey, I'm going to be leaving pretty soon for work, and could be gone for a while. Could I see Orion before I go? Spend some time with him?

>Sure.

Your reply still rings in his ears. Short. Torturous.

But he doesn't blame you. He did it the wrong way. You have a child, his child, to protect, to take care of. Of course, you should be concerned. Maybe he should have found a better way to tell you. Maybe he shouldn't have told you at all.

A large part of him, the instinctual part, considered refusing you, when you asked him to give you some time, and he still hasn't made a decision about what he will do in the long run.

It would be so easy, to hide you away. To take you in the middle of the night, wake you up in a brand new home, high in hill, in a whole new country across a border.

When the knock on his door finally comes, he crams the overflow of emotion coursing through his heart into a teeny tiny box, and prays he'll be able to keep a lid on it.

"Hey." Orion turns in your grip, looking for Simon's voice, and you smother a wince at the shift in his weight.

"Hi." You look through him. Past him. To the left of his elbow, at his shoulder, the floor. Anywhere but his eyes.

"Thanks for letting me spend some time with him." Your lips go flat, but you shuffle the baby into his arms, managing to avoid skin to skin contact. It makes his stomach hurt worse than it already did.

"Of course, you're... you're his dad." You peek around him, trying to get a better look of the flat. "Do you uh, have stuff for him?"

"I went to the store."

"Okay. Well, good." You hand him the bag next. "I wasn't sure what you had so there are a few changes of clothes in there, just in case, and some bottles. They should probably go in the fridge. Diapers, some toys. Just in case... I didn't want.... I wanted you to have everything you might need." It's thoughtful of you, and he wants to smile, but you won't look at him.

"Thank you." You nod.

"Alright well, I'll come pick him up later? Just text me I guess, when you're ready. Hopefully he'll take a bottle."

"I can bring him-"

"No, that's okay." you cut him off sharply, shaking your head. He frowns.

"Why not?"

"I- I don't mind, coming by to get him."

"But if it's dark..."

"I can manage." You snap, and he purses his lips, but says nothing.

"Alright well, see you later then." You make some noncommittal noise, and then step closer, mouth pressing to Orion's cheek.

"Bye baby, love you." You finally look up at him, really look, and he holds his breath when he sees it all in your eyes. Pain. Confusion. Worry.

He did that.

The evening goes too fast. He manages to get Ry to nap, and drink over half a bottle, a huge win, but spends most of the time just holding him, walking him in circles in his flat, trying to memorize the feeling of his baby in his arms. He's fussier than usual, crying anytime Simon tries to put him down, which he doesn't mind, but concerns him. Is he like this at home, with you? Is this why you've been up more at night?

Still, it's over too soon, and when you're knocking on the door again, he stands on the other side a few seconds too long, wishing he had more time.

He's always wishing he had more time.

"How was he?"

"Good. More fussy than usual, but I got him to take most of a bottle. Is he doing alright?"

"He's been like this, the past few days. He's either going through a growth spurt, or developing some late colic. I hope it's the growth spurt." Oh no.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything. If you want me to take him at all." You nod.

"When uh... when are you leaving?"

"Two weeks or so. Once the guys get back, they'll have a few days debrief and then... we'll be off."

"Okay, well. Just let me know, when you want him again?"

"I will." He kisses Orion's cheek, whispering in his ear how much he loves him, before passing him to you. You have to reposition your posture to support his weight, and he winces. "Are you okay?" You blink at him, skeptical and surprised.

"I'm great Simon. Really peachy."

"Look, I know I really sprung-"

"Sprung? Is that what you're calling that? Simon... you blindsided me. You... you-" He holds up his hands.

"I'm much more careful now. I've learned a lot of hard lessons, and I would never, ever allow anything to happen to you or Orion." His shoulders slump, and he drops his eyes to the floor. Ashamed. Grief trying to work its way, trying to break him down just as it has all these years before. "I've learned from my mistakes." There's a long, uncomfortable since between the two of you, one that Orion fills with fussing, and then your voice cracks.

"Simon, that wasn't your fault.... I'm not... I'm not upset about... that. Or anything, that happened to you. I mean, I'm upset but not at you for that..." You take a deep breath. "I am upset for you, that those things happened to you, that you've been through such trauma, such horrible things." Tears wet your cheeks, but he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. "I would never hold that against you. I'm upset about your job. And the danger it puts us in. I'm upset that I didn't know that you'd been gone for weeks, possibly months at a time. I'm upset that you promised me you'd be here, and then never mentioned the super secret task force that will... take you away from us." Orion cries, and you bounce him back and forth, finally looking Simon dead in the eye, facing him head on. "It feels like you've been lying to me, for weeks now. I thought we were in this, together, that we were- we were building something, together. Now it just feels like... I could lose you at any second instead. That Orion could lose his father, grow up without you." The last word rips from your lips in a sob, and you shake your head as he steps close.

"You will never lose me. Do you understand? That will never happen." He vows it, swears it, forces it out into the universe as a covenant, but you only shake your head again, sadly.

"You can't promise that."

[radiance1]

Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian get kidnapped to be used as sacrifices to offer to the Ghost King for when he arrived, the cultists went on and on about how they'll become the king's servants and that he will cleanse the mortal world.

Which, obviously neither of the four of them wants, especially when the Big Bat was off world on official league business too. So they try to sneakily remove their bindings and all of that, with Dick making conversation and the others piping in to distract them and stuff.

Unfortunately, the summoning still went as planned, but the result was not what any of them expected.

Instead of the ancient, ghostly eldritch king they expected, what they instead got was a giant ball of flaming feathers looking down at them sleepily, with a silence passing as if it were slowly processing what was happening before asking.

"Do you have any clue as to how hard it is to put a child godking to sleep."

---

Vlad and Danny have outlived everyone they knew in Amity Park by about 200 years. During those years, Vlad and Danny have gotten, better, with each other.

Now, you see, the Duke of the Black Flame did not care what exactly the boy did outside whenever he was summoned, but it then became his problem when he was told to go and collect the boy due to some complications.

He went along with it, but was irritated about it, he never had to do this before. So of course, as if to spite him, he found that Danny went and turned himself into a damn toddler.

So of course, his first reaction was to carry him to Clockwork and make him turn him back. He had some very choice words when Clockwork said no and didn't even tell him why that he didn't say.

And then the child was thrusted into his care.

He protested, of course, he was only 242, and this was a child he didn't even like on the best of days. To which Clockwork brought up how, didn't even always want to claim Danny as his son back in the day?

That was a younger phase in his life, the him now doesn't want anything to do with the brat.

But alas, he was still forced to take care of the child, claiming that only another halfa would be capable of properly taking care of another, which Vlad tried to refute, he truly, truly did.

But against the Observants and the Master of Time, he had to fold.

Fuck, he misses the time when he didn't have a title and thus, had to be involved within politics.

At least human politics were predictable.

The time following his caretaking of one Ghost King were utterly, terrible. First, Danny whined like, well, a toddler, when he brought him over to his domain because of the heat which, rude. Then he had to move into the castle to properly take care of him which he had to suck up.

It was either this, or the Far Frozen.

The palace was cold, which made him made feel a bit discomforted in prolong periods of time, due to always spending most of his time around heat, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Then he found out that dealing with a superpowered toddler was unpleasant, to say the least. The boy kept disappearing under his watch, flew through the palace halls at high speeds and seemingly boundless amounts of energy with even worse self-preservation instincts, and when he wailed?

He wailed.

Vlad already had his damn talons full with dealing with the brat.

And then came having to take on the king's workload due to said eastern dragon being a toddler. He had to physically deny himself from screaming when he heard of it, to keep Danny from joining in with a wail out of fun if anything else.

Three years passed, a blink of an eye to him now really, and Vlad was not having that great a time. He was stressed, tired, and not amused by both the lack of sleep and trying to keep Danny out of harm's way.

Did he mention that during those two years, Vlad had to be forced along whenever Danny was summoned? No? Well now you know.

The one time, the one time that the stars aligned to have Vlad neither have to deal with his shared workload and Danny finally asleep at the same time.

Of course, as soon as he closed his eyes and rested surrounded by his warmth. Of course, of Observants-damned course did the brat have to be summoned at that exact moment when he was finally getting some precious sleep.

He stared down at the cultists sleepily, his usual dignity and elegance lost to its basic functions as his mind slowly tried to process what was happening. When it did, he felt himself be irritated, before a wave of resignation flooded him and he asked one, simple question to hopefully drive the meaning into their thick, stupid skulls.

"Do you have any clue as to how hard it is to put a child godking to sleep."

Rhetorical question, really. He didn't expect an answer.

[icycoldninja]

Dating Vergil headcannons

-Vergil is undoubtedly a loving sweetheart. Yes, he has a grumpy side, but he truly loves you and cares for you however he can.

-Always protects you, be it from devils and grotesque monsters or a dog that happened to growl at you a little too much.

-Kinda gets overprotective like a dad over you whenever you get sick or injured, no matter how small the wound/illness is. He will immediately go into full parenting mode and wrap you up in a cocoon of blankets while worriedly feeding you soup and forcing bitter tasting medicine down your throat, or force you into a chair so he can dress and disinfect the wound as needed.

-Very jealous around Dante. Even though he knows that his brother would never attempt to steal you away from him, he can't shake that feeling; that nagging worry that perhaps you would fall for Dante's charms and leave him all alone.

-Of course, you'd never ever leave him, but Vergil's not the best at reading people, so he often needs to be told that.

-Shower this man in all the love and affection he deserves--you're the only one he'll ever allow to anyway.

-Calls you cute nicknames (but only in private) such as Babe, Dove, Sunlight, Sweetness, Queen, and My Motivation.

-Not good at expressing his affection through speech (bro I feel u) but excels at writing love letters to you, which he will never give to you in person--he'll just leave them lying around and hope you notice them.

-In order to escape teasing from Dante, he refuses to participate in any kind of PDA, no matter how small. He will, at the very most, hold your hand, but only when Dante is not around and if you ask nicely.

-Behind closed doors, however, things are entirely different. You will have yourself a living koala. He will latch onto you and never let go, using his huge frame to keep you pinned to whatever you happen to be lounging on, be it his plastic chair or your living room couch.

-Can't cook. It's a Sparda family curse. You are now tasked with the sacred duty that is producing a meal for this poor dude.

-Once a year, he undergoes his demon mating period--during this time, he gets really grumpy and cuts off all contact with everyone for like a month, the only exception is you.

-That's cause he needs you for something, if ya catch my drift. ;)

-Literally cold as ice, all the time. No matter how much you hold and snuggle him; no matter how many layers of clothes he wears, he's always cold.

-He doesn't feel it though, only you do, and because of that, he wonders why you always want to wrap him up in blankets and cuddle him.

-Complete and utter NERD for books, movies, TV shows, anime and so on. Knows enough about these topics to write an entire wiki but unfortunately must suppress this knowledge to save himself from the agony that is Dante's taunts.

-If you happen to share the same interests as him, then good for you! You two can spend all day holed up at home, geeking out about literally everything like the soul mates you are. 💓

[writingjourney]

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

!!! this fic contains spoilers for RHRN, do not read on if you wish to remain spoiler-free!!!

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Or: Copia is taking up his new position. It’s not an easy feat.

content: 1.8k words, gn!reader, angst, grief, hurt/comfort, some fluff and kisses, post!rhrn so spoilers, established relationship

Masterlist – Ao3 link

1 – White dust sheets cover the furniture like ghosts of a life left behind. The path forward is hidden underneath layers of insecurity and grief but as he packs up years of work in pre-used cardboard boxes it almost feels as though he cannot see the path at all.

His new office is just down the hall. It is a fast job. Two trips and his desk has become another ghost. One more trip and he has emptied out all personal belongings from the dusty shelves. The rest stays, not useful to him anymore in his new function.

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Unlike his brothers he had no way to prepare who follows his footsteps and perhaps that is where the ache in his belly comes from – the uncertainty.

He cannot quite bring himself to unpack the boxes in his new office yet. But it is not his office anyway, Copia thinks. No, it is his mother’s office and he feels like an intruder placing his things on her desk. Her smell clings to the old fabrics, clings to him, a strong perfume that Copia has not been able to get out of his nose ever since he covered her body with yet another white sheet.

Yet another ghost.

It has not been long, he tells himself, a weak comfort. As he stands here with an old card she wrote him – Welcome Home, C! – he can hear the clicking of his mother’s shoes on the tiled floors like a faint echo that haunts the hallways of the Ministry. Everyone is busy preparing for this transitional period, mourning their Mother Superior, but now it is Copia who has to guide them, navigate them through this darkness.

He realises that he himself has footsteps to follow and that he is just as unprepared. A new era, for all of them.

“Love?”

He turns and his world lights up for a brief moment. You occupy the doorframe in a black mourning habit, the one all Siblings chose to wear in honour of his mother. Of course he finds that it suits you better than anyone else. But perhaps that is because he has felt the sturdy fabric against his wet cheeks so many times now that it means comfort, home.

“Do you still need help with the boxes?” you ask.

All he can do is shake his head. You approach and he wants to close the card, hide it away, not even sure why. You have seen the fallout, you have held him through the worst of it. Perhaps he is ashamed, in a way, that he cannot move on as fast as his new role demands of him.

“Was this from her?” you ask, nestling up to his side.

“Mhm.”

His hand is trembling lightly as you lay yours to rest on top of his. The swipe of your thumb against his bare wrist sends goosebumps down his spine and when you wrap the other arm around his waist his eyes are watering.

“Perhaps you can frame it, together with some photos,” you suggest.

He nods, leaning into your embrace as a solid rock forms in his throat. You hold him and he lets the silent tears run down his cheeks, gathering at the dip of his chin. Your thumb continues to draw slow crescents over his pulse. He can’t speak. He does not have to.

✦ ✧ ✦

2 – He is glued to the mirror.

You try not to fuss, he is nervous as is. It is first official day, after all.

“I didn’t know you had a new uniform,” you say with a lint roller in hand, joining him in the bedroom. The jacket is brand new, all black but unusual in its ornamentation, satin lapels that run from his neck towards his armpits. A clerical collar underneath sparkles against his Adam’s apple.

“I eh… splurged,” he says, cheeks dusted a bashful red.

He says it like he is wasteful, does it whenever he treats himself to something, but you also know he is wearing the same black winklepickers he wore as a Cardinal ten years ago, never replaces any pieces of clothing until he finds holes in the fabric, that he only bought new jackets when he could use them on stage to look his best for the audience. The suit is no different, it is as much a boost to his confidence as it is a display of his new status. A performance.

“It is a rather nice suit,” you note, running the lint roller down his back.

“Mhm.” He pauses, looks down at himself and tugs at the sleeves. “It is… unfamiliar.”

“You wear it well, Copia.”

He smiles and his confidence resurfaces. You find that he looks handsome in a completely new way. You have seen so many facets of him that you can tell he is beginning to mold himself into this role, even if he might not see it himself yet. In the mirror, a stranger is looking back at him through black-rimmed eyes but in time he will see himself again, a grown version.

“It is not all,” he says. “I… found something. In the desk drawer.”

He points to a velvety black box on the dresser. Inside, you find a beautiful ornament, two ruby brooches holding a bejewelled black grucifix, another ruby at the bottom. It is one of the most beautiful, elaborate pieces you have ever seen.

“A gift, I think.”

He looks uncertain when you glance up. But you have no doubt that it was meant for him, meant for today. You carefully take it out of the box, delicate as it looks it feels sturdy and well-crafted. One brooch to each lapel and the grucifix dangles over his heart. Light from the window catches in the gemstones, a prism splitting the ray into sparkles that reflect in the mirror, a spectacle of multicoloured beams flickering across the walls.

Copia watches the dancing lights, mesmerised, until the sun hides behind a cloud and the room is gloomy yet again. When you focus back on him a tear pearls from his left eye, running down his cheek and leaving a black streak in its wake. The piece is more than jewels – it is a memory, a promise, a token of trust.

“It is beautiful,” you say. “As are you, Copia. So beautiful.”

His smile is tinged with sadness but there is hope, now, too. You smooth out his jacket, admiring him for a moment, unconcealed, and he must see it in your eyes because the smile shifts until one corner of his mouth pulls into a lighthearted smirk.

“Do I get a kiss?” he asks.

You grab the satin and pull him close. One day you are going to peel him out of this jacket and it won’t feel heavy anymore.

✦ ✧ ✦

3 – You gently wipe at his under-eye. The black smudge is persistent and you stop when the skin turns red. Copia’s eyes are closed even as he holds you. Wrapped around you he feels hot to the touch, almost feverish. He has gone non-verbal since he came home and you give him the space he needs, soft touches, rest and quiet.

The tension of the day still sits in his muscles, you can feel the knots when you run your hands over his back. The hot shower did not help, nor did the pasta he barely touched for dinner. He did well, everyone said this to you today. Whether he feels it you are not so certain.

You lean in and press a kiss to the round tip of his freckled nose. He blinks at you through tired, reddened eyes, lips curving into a lazy half-smile. His hand tightens at your waist, slides underneath your shirt to feel your skin. He’s your whole world molded into the shape of a man. Love, stored in the crinkles of his crow’s feet, every line on his face, in the brushstrokes of grey at his temples, an endless supply.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, trailing the curve of his spine.

His eyes open and you feel guilty for disrupting his peace. But then he pulls you ever closer, squishing, the softness of your bodies mingling with a comforting warmth.

“I don’t…” He stops, brows pulled together. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I have no doubt that you can.” You study his features, move your hand to trace the lines of tension and smooth them out. He lets you, eyelids fluttering at the soft touch. “Every day from now on will be easier, Copia. My baby, I have such confidence in you. Unshakable.”

The words stir something in him. Some wetness gathers in his odd eyes but he blinks it away. You have to fight your own tears, good tears, for how far he has come. Then Copia nods, nods again but with more conviction. A deep exhale through his nose and he swallows the doubts away.

“You are right, always,” he says. “I was Papa Emeritus IV, eh? I did that.”

“You did.” A smile, proud and amused. “And now you are Frater Imperator.”

“Mhm, I am.”

“You are the head of this church, they are still your flock, adoring you, admiring you, trusting you. None of this has changed.” You cradle his face in both hands, a firm press of your thumbs to his cheekbones. “And you are still the man I love.”

“I am?”

“Forever.”

He closes the gap himself, a grateful kiss, seeking. You try to give him what he needs, firm and soft kisses, hands roaming, legs entangles. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, deeper still until all air escapes you and a dizzy fog fills your head. He is all you know, all you want for the rest of this life you live together.

The kisses slow down, not any less deep, and he cradles your head, keeping you pressed together. There is some need building, a languid wave that fades out in ripples. You feel him stir against your leg but he is not quite here with you, not entirely, and it subsides after a moment.

He breaks away with a heavy sigh, keeps his eyes closed.

“Perhaps not tonight,” you say, stroking his hair.

He nods and rests his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose, the embrace tighter than before. It feels easier now, somehow, and you can picture it so clearly. The future, him, and even in your head the world is quiet as you hold him close.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

[eggluverz]

WE REALLY WERE TIMELESS

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader (also dan feng x reader ig!)

WORD COUNT. 3,722

SUMMARY. dan heng does not want to remember his previous reincarnation, but there is one part he doesn't want to let go of forever— you.

SOF'S NOTE. i was listening to taylor swift's timeless and thinking about how much i love dan heng...and this was born :3 i love him sm and i def feel like love with dan heng could transcend all lifetimes <3 pls enjoy if ur a fellow dh lover :>

Dan Feng was many things. Cold and ruthless, some said. A merciless killer, said others. Revered and powerful, was the more popular and favorable opinion. But, what most people seemed to wipe from their memories was that he was also a lover.

A lover to you, at least. You, and only you. 

His days as the Imbibitor Lunae were long and laborious. He lead countless battles to destroy threats and rescued Xianzhou fleets from annihilation. 

Dan Feng was used to spending long periods away from home, but when he returned, he knew he would at least be greeted by you. 

Occasionally, you were there fighting alongside him. Capable and strong. But most of the time, you preferred using your strengths to continue studying and advancing medicine. You were compassionate and knowledgeable, and you wanted to help your injured allies rather than cause more destruction.

His favorite moments with you involved the little leisure time he had between battles when he was able to stay in his residence with you, wrapped in your embrace. 

Dan Feng, proud member of the High-Cloud Quintet, was left speechless and in awe at the sight of you. Those nights you spent together were filled with both heat and passion, and attention and love. Every moment he spent with you was intentional; he never took those times for granted. 

Of course, those times couldn’t last. 

Be it his selfishness, his arrogance, his drive to help his friend—he lost you. Not because you shunned him or turned him away, but simply because he was forced to reincarnate and locked away without the ability to say even a simple goodbye. 

His love, lost in the blink of an eye. And he may never see you again. 

Now, as Dan Heng, he was almost in denial when Jing Yuan informed him you forcibly reincarnated as soon as you heard the news of the Sedation of Inhibitor Lunae and slipped away from the Xianzhou Luofu. 

What were you to Dan Heng? Dan Feng was no longer here and Dan Heng did not want to claim his past. 

Imbibitor Lunae was not him. Renowned member of the High-Cloud Quintet was not him. 

But when Jing Yuan spoke your name, memories of his previous life rushed through him. If he didn’t acknowledge his past, would that mean you had no chance of ever being his again?

Dan Heng had no attachment to the name Jing Yuan. Yingxian no longer held special meaning either. He didn’t want it to. But hearing your name stirred something in him. It caused a battle between past and present. And the present was winning until he walked along the streets of Penacony. 

An intense shiver shot through his veins and the hairs on the back of his arm stood up. You were here.

He knew it. He felt it. Dan Heng didn’t know where exactly, but your presence was so powerful, it was something he couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t strong enough to. 

You were his first and only romantic love— A love he thought would be eternal until he got reincarnated. The draw to you was so intense he found himself wandering the wide pathways filled with Gothic buildings until he felt the call was satiated. 

It wasn’t completely gone, but he felt more relaxed. More at peace. 

Dan Heng notice his body stopped in front of a library with a square roof and he immediately entered the building. The interior was filled with rows of bookshelves and large tables, busy with scholars and those here for leisurely reasons alike.

Despite all that, Dan Heng knew where you were right as he laid eyes on you. 

You were half-hidden by piles of books as you took notes on a blank sheet of paper. You sat straight on the chair and briefly put your pen down when you noticed his staring. Your gaze met his as your eyes darted around the room. 

When they landed on Dan Heng, you tilted your head to the side as he watched you, but you showed no signs of recognition. 

His stomach churned. Of course you wouldn’t recognize him. You had reincarnated soon after Dan Feng did. Your past life was gone, your memories were gone, and he didn’t even know if your name was still the one that was so familiar on his lips. 

With an inquisitive look on your face, you beckoned him over. He was surprised that you acknowledged him so overtly, but if you were anything like your past self, he shouldn’t be too shocked. 

Dan Heng wondered if he should turn around and leave. Did he want to pretend he didn’t see you? Pretend that your fates weren’t inextricably linked? 

His heart felt like it was being torn out of his chest as he turned away, ready to go on as if this never occurred so he could continue his life as Dan Heng with no ties to the previous Imbibitor Lunae. He began walking out of the library, shoving his feelings down deep to hide them away for good. 

The cold outside air hit his face as he opened the door. It felt damp out—as if it were raining. 

Dan Heng touched the wet drops on his face before he realized it wasn’t rain. It was his tears. 

It pained him more than he cared to admit. His past love was here and he was going to throw it away before he even had another chance. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms so deep it hurt the flesh. But it had nothing on the pain his heart was feeling. 

He couldn’t do it, he realized. He couldn’t severe the bond from his past completely— Dan Heng couldn’t severe his bond with you. He’d lose a part of himself he wasn’t even aware he still had. 

The muscles in his body screamed as he entered the library once more, this time walking straight to you instead of basking in hesitation. You looked confused as you stared up at him, probably wondering why he ignored you, left, and came back all in the span of one minute.

“Hi there! Can I help you?” 

Dan Heng instantly froze at your words. He yearned for the familiarity; a sense of comfort washed over him at your simple acknowledgement. 

But it didn’t look like you knew who he was. There wasn’t an ounce of recognition on your face even as he stood closer. 

It’s me. Do you remember? he wanted to ask. The desire to reach out and grab your hand, touch your face, was strong enough to make his heart pound. But he refrained. If you didn’t know who he was, it might frighten you if he did that. And discomfort was the last thing Dan Heng wanted to make you feel.  

You laughed nervously, letting out a single cough to fill the silence. 

Dan Heng, realizing he hadn’t said a word, quickly scanned the books you had stacked up. They were books on medicine and the evolution of healthcare. He tried to find something relevant to say.

“I almost gave someone CPR once.”

You blinked slowly, a small and uncertain smile on your face. “That’s great! I think…” For a moment, you considered what he said. “I supposed it’s not great if someone was in a situation where they needed CPR. But it is great you were willing to help.”

Dan Heng nodded, glad his plan went well. 

“Why did they need CPR? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“We found them unconscious. They had a weak heartbeat and pulse so I wanted to make sure they stayed alive.” 

You took in this information, looking slightly impressed. “Typically, we start CPR when there’s no pulse, but if the individual begins gasping for breathe, it’s usually a good sign to start CPR.” 

“I see.”

The two of you fell into a long silence before you gently cleared your throat. 

“Is that all you had to say?” you asked. Dan Heng suspected you didn’t exactly buy that he wanted to talk to you solely about CPR. “Earlier, when you were looking at me, you had a strange look on your face. It looked like you recognized me.” 

Dan Heng stilled. 

You clasped your hands together on top of the table, leaning forward almost conspiratorially. “Do I know you?”

His breathing quickened at the prospect of you remembering your past with him. 

“Maybe from a birthday party as a kid? Or did we go to the same school?” 

Dan Heng’s face dropped. “Oh. No.” 

You hummed in thought.

“You…might know me, though.” 

Curiously, you raised your brows at his vague response. He wondered if he should stop himself, but he wanted to tell you about your past life. Maybe then you would remember him. 

But would that be a good idea? Would it work in the first place? 

Dan Heng didn’t know. 

He felt impulsive but he needed to talk to you more. “I can explain more, but can we go outside first?” 

You craned your neck to the side, considering your options. He knew what he asked of you was something ridiculous in the eyes of a stranger. To stop what you were doing, take time out of your day, and follow this man you had only just spoken to with no explanation. 

It was wishful thinking to expect a yes. 

Yet somehow, you always managed to surprise him. “Of course. Let me just return these books.” 

Dan Heng tried to hide how pleased he was as he patiently waited for you to turn the books back into the librarian. He offered to help you carry them, but you managed to gather the heavy stack into your arms in its entirety. 

“Now I’m ready,” you said with a smile, eyes studying him in wonder. You looked confused, but you didn’t seem concerned. Perhaps something inside of you also sensed familiarity. “Do you want to see the stars with me?” 

He nodded and you led him to a clear, grassy spot away from the town. The grass was tall and green, pastel wildflowers growing amongst the landscape. You smoothed down your clothes and sat on the soft ground. Dan Heng sat next to you, careful to respect your personal space and keep a slight distance. 

He took in the scenery of the night before he saw you gazing at the stars. He quickly followed suit, tilting his head back.

Moments of tranquil silence passed by before he asked, “Do you know what I am?”

You didn’t miss a beat, almost as if you were expecting that question to come. “You appear human, but your presence doesn’t feel as so.”

“Much like you, correct?” he countered. “A Vidyadhara.”

You touched your head instinctively, the place where your horns should be. With wide eyes, you hastily put your arms back against your sides. 

Dan Heng raised his brow. 

“I thought my appearance had changed suddenly,” you said with a nervous laugh. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry to cause such alarm. You don’t need to worry; you still appear human as well.” 

“It’s not as if I’m trying to pretend I’m not a Vidyadhara,” you explained, “it’s just easier to live here and be unnoticed with this appearance.” You looked away from the starry sky and turned to face Dan Heng. “And you— Why do you choose to appear human?” 

“I refuse to pay for the sins of my past reincarnation. It’s not me,” he said, voice tense. “That’s not who I am.” 

“You remember your past reincarnation?” you asked, your body perking up. Embarrassed by your eagerness, you stilled. “Sorry. That’s insensitive. There must be a reason you don’t want to remember. Sometimes, I just can’t help but wish I did.” 

The corners of Dan Heng’s mouth tilted upward. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t care for my past…except for one particular detail.” 

You shifted your position to sit with your legs folded over the other. You didn’t say anything, instead letting him speak as he felt comfortable.

“Maybe one particular person is more accurate.” 

Your eyes closed as you breathed deeply, the wind blowing around the two of you as if creating a bubble from the rest of the world. In deep concentration, you changed into your normal Vidyadhara form. Your ears were pointed, regal horns emerged from the top of your head, and you looked taller as your tail appeared underneath you. 

Expectantly, you looked at him. 

Dan Heng hesitated, but soon followed suit. He felt his body change to the one of his past as he revealed his true form to you. 

“Am I the person in your past?” you asked slowly, examining everything from his turquoise horns and dark hair, to his long tail landing in a semi-circle around you. 

He smiled to himself. Attentive as always, he thought. Lifetimes had passed, the galaxies never stopped moving, yet you were just as he remembered. Your experiences may have been different, as did the environment you grew up in, but at your core, you were still thoughtful, caring, and intelligent. No matter the reincarnation, you were still you— His beloved. 

A conflicted look formed on his face as that thought. Dan Heng was getting ahead of himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng. You couldn’t be his. 

You didn’t let his lack of response deter you, instead staring up at him with a hopeful gaze. “I’m sorry if that’s too personal of me to ask. It’s only… Something about you just feels safe and warm.”

His tail swayed back and forth. You felt it too?

“But you’re a stranger in this life, as far as I know,” you said with small laugh. “So why do you seem so familiar? Perhaps it means in my previous, you weren’t so strange.”

Dan Heng noticed his tail getting closer to your body before he managed to sway it the other way. You bumped yours against his mischievously. He jolted in surprise, both at the sudden touch of his tail—which he hadn’t felt in years and years—but also the small spark running through him at the point of contact. 

You bristled as well. “What was that?”

“I am not sure either.”

For a moment, you were lost in your thoughts. He wondered what you were thinking as your eyes swirled, looking more captivating than any galaxy he has ever seen. Your elegant horns looked as if they were glowing against the night sky and he wanted to reach out and feel them like he used to. One of your sensitive spots, he remembered. 

“I felt something when our tails brushed,” you said slowly, thinking your words through. “It wasn’t much, but it felt like a glimpse of my previous life. Do you think I can touch you more?”

Dan Heng absolutely did not mind if you touched him. Anywhere—for that matter. But he figured what was visible would be safest for the time being. He bowed his head, offering his horns to start with. “As you wish.”

You smiled brightly and his heart fluttered. He felt deep down he would do anything for you. Even confront his past life. And he vowed that what he didn’t do in his past life—spend enough time with you before it was too late—he would do in this. If only you allowed him. 

Reaching out, your gaze was fixed on his tall horns. You started with a careful touch to the tip and ran your fingers down to where his horns branched out. Heat and cold were both searing through his body at the touch and he was certain from your expression you felt the same. Your hands trailed down his face, feeling the point of his ears and resting on his cheek. 

Whether it was from the pain of the intensity coursing through you or whether it was because you were remembering your past life, Dan Heng saw tears rolling down your cheeks. 

He brought his hand up to you to wipe them away, but stopped right before he could touch your skin. “May I?” 

You nodded, a light sniffle coming from you and Dan Heng yearned to be of comfort. 

He started with a light brush of his thumb to gather the wetness on your face, gently wiping it off. Then, same as you did to him, he felt the elongation of your ears and ran hs fingers from the base of your horns to the very top. They were just as smooth as he remembered and he felt you tremble at the touch. He smiled. They were still also as sensitive as ever. 

“Are any memories resurfacing for you?” he said quietly. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut yet tears still leaked from them. It took a while for your to respond, overwhelmed by all the emotions, but eventually you managed to ask, “Is it… Dan Feng?”

“Dan Heng now,” he gently corrected. “I don‘t go by that name anymore.”

At that confirmation, you cried even more, jumping into his arms and burying your face in his chest. 

“It‘s been so long,” you said in exasperation, your words mixed with sniffles. “The Sedation— We didn’t even get to say goodbye!” You paused, removing yourself from his chest and looking up at him. “Rather, I didn’t get to say goodbye to Dan Feng. But with you here, maybe now I can.”

He nodded in understanding. His ending was so abrupt. Due to his own hubris and for the life of his closest friend, he ended up sacrificing himself. And in the long run, he learned he even sacrificed you. Dan Heng would never treat your relationship with him so casually again. He should’ve showed you it was the top priority in his life. 

Dan Heng watched in silence as you closed your eyes and whispered under your breath. He didn’t fully understand what you were saying, but he allowed you to have your private moment and say your goodbyes. He said goodbye to the past you as well—a right that was also stripped away from him as he was forced into reincarnation without second thought. Anger rose in his cheeks at those who took that away from him. From you. But it died down. Ultimately, what Dan Feng did wasn’t a part of him now. Maybe the person he is today wouldn’t have agreed with those past actions in the first place. 

Moments turned into minutes and minutes turned to hours before you finally opened your eyes and looked at him. Your gaze was clearer, as if it was truly him—Dan Heng—you were seeing. 

You smiled wistfully, hand gently stroking the spine of his tail. “I may have said goodbye to Dan Feng, but, at your core, the Dan Heng in front of me still feels like the man I love.”

He hummed in thought. He understood exactly what you were feeling. “Your core is the same too,” he said, his palm resting on your chest where your heart was beating. “You’re someone I will always love. And I’m sorry it took me so long to find you.”

Your face broke into an expression of sadness and Dan Heng felt his heart tightened. 

“I’m sorry I, as Dan Feng, left you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you until the end.”

You shook your head, trying to force a happy look on your face. “No, it’s okay. You didn’t leave me. You were taken and punished and I couldn’t say goodbye. But I forgive you.”

“Why? I valued my power and my friend’s life and, ultimately, was selfish and didn’t consider the impact on yours. There are so many reasons I don’t want to hold onto my past. But if being here with you means facing it, I will.”

You sighed, a small, sad chuckle escaping your lips. “You see someone selfish and arrogant, but I see a kind and selfless soul who wanted his friend to be there with him forever.”

Dan Heng thought back in shame of the Blade he met on Luofu. 

“Our pasts are linked, but so are our presents,” you said, lifting his chin up. “You’re not Dan Feng anymore, are you?”

He nodded firmly. 

You smiled in acceptance. “You’re not exactly my first love, Dan Feng, but I have a feeling I’ll like this Dan Heng person even more, anyway.”

His body immediately warmed and he wanted to melt into your touch. You were always so kind, so thoughtful. Dan Feng may have messed up and got the two of you separated, but he would never. 

“In our last life and this life, and if we have even more to come, we will always find each other,” he vowed. 

You touched your forehead to his before leaning in for a kiss. He met your lips as if he were securing a promise. A promise not to leave you again, a promise he was really here, and a promise he still loved you. There was so much he had to learn about your new life—and you, his. But Dan Heng was certain it’d only make him love you more. 

He had gone through the betrayal of a friend, the betrayal of a nation, and death and exile from the very place he once called home, but no pain compared to that of losing you. And now that he found you again, he didn’t want to make the same mistakes as his past reincarnation. 

You placed your hand on his cheek and deepened the kiss, breaking him out of his thoughts. Your hand was warm against the cool air of the night. Dan Heng ran his hand down to your waist and wrapped around to rest on the small of your back. He pushed you closer to him, wanting to feel your body against his. The heat emanated through the fabric of your clothes and the faint smell of wildflowers and vanilla filled his senses. It was a familiar scent he had always loved. 

He smiled into the kiss and you moved closer, draping a leg around his hip. Dan Heng didn’t ever want to let you go, but he knew he had nothing to fear. Now he knew the strength of your bond—how the draw to each other could withstand lifetimes. 

Not even time itself could separate you from him.