#cause we know he'd throw himself into it if he found out he had one

[pastafossa]

Pasta I don’t know if you saw my ask before but I thought I’d try again since you’re having an answering session now! I have a Matt X reader fic I think you’d love:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49083334/chapters/123831982

It’s still a WIP but it’s SO good

I KNOW THIS ONE! I was on, I think I'd just finished chapter 9 it looks like in my bookmarks folder (the lasagna chapter). I haven't caught up yet with all the craziness in my life (holy shit I'm behind, look at all the new chapters!), but @souliebird 's done an amazing job with it and I was following it! Normally I tend to avoid fics with kids in them just due to personal stuff but I took a chance on their fic and it's been a lovely read, so I second this: this is really good and I have every intention of catching up!

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THEM ACTING OVERLY JEALOUS

synopsis: the monster trio and how they act when they're way too jealous for their own good...

characters: luffy, sanji & zoro!

warnings: a teeny tinyyy amount of swearing [:

a/n: first time writing for them so i'm pretty nervous!!! , hope you enjoy!! banner is made by me, inspired by the lovely @sixosix and the layout is inspired by the lovely @luckyscribbles <3

it was his fault! it really was.. he was the sole reason you were entertaining this way too confident guy- because he told you that he was out of your league! can you believe that?! and now ZORO is throwing daggers at the poor man just with his piercing gaze alone..

ignoring zoro's needy angry glares he's sending you two, you continue charming your ... acquauntance, growing his already far too stretched ego. "oh darling, how i could melt in those beautiful emerald colored eyes of yours~" and with that sanji cringe-worthy comment you got him babbling on about himself... again.

you're getting progressively more annoyed the longer you hear him try to flirt with you. nonetheless you don't move an inch, because you know he's watching your every move; waiting for you to come moping to him about the guy. he'd feel a sense pride because you came back to him. and that pride, the face he makes whenever he turns out to be right about something, albeit it's a very handsome one, is the last thing you want to witness right now.

so you keep yourself from throwing this guy's drink in his face and telling him his cologne is absolutely murdering your sense of smelling.

you look up as you suddenly stop hearing the random guy talk about some castle garden of his. he gulps hesistantly whilst zoro stands before you, hands in his pockets. "we're leaving." no you're not! "oh zoro~ i barely-" "now." you stand up and turn to leave, but quickly turn back around and give the stranger a kiss on his cheek before leaving with zoro, causing his cheeks to change to a red-shade.

"miss! will i ever see you again?!" he asks before backing up seeing zoro's death glare. "my love, if we are meant to be we will definitely meet again!" what's up with you and these shakespear lines?

zoro gives you a slight shove with his shoulder as he rolld his eyes for what seems like the millionth time this hour. "i think i found my soulmate zoro!" you sang while you interlocked you arm with his. you were met with yet another eye-roll.

"you were the one that said he's out of my league, remember?" zoro huffs annoyed. "shit- that was a joke damn it!" "if anything you're out of his fucking league, dumbass" you lean onto him as you two continue making your way back to the going merry.

"maybe i exaggerated a bit too.." you slowly admit before hearing his usual chuckle. "just don't go flirting with some stranger again, ever. shit could've gone wrong real fast y'know?" you smile sheepishly and nod. "good thing you were there huh?"

and you could've sworn you say his cheeks turn into a rose color before he swiftly turned his head to the side, greeting sanji and nami. was he blushing..?

SANJI was this close.. this close to absolutely losing it and slicing this daring man up with zoro's swords. who does he think he is? flirtingly, charmingly speaking with his lover?! well truth be told.. you two weren't official, far from it actually;

you two were so close to finally having the months-due talk about the classic, what are we-question. but of course sanji had to hit on the waitress that casually passed your table. that was your final straw. if he couldn't stop his antics for one night, you would resume yours for good.

and oh how it made him clench his fists so hard they became white, how it made him ignore all the beautiful ladies surrounding him, for what felt like the first time ever, how he saw you with your pretty dress on, that he bought for you because it reminded him of you, sat on some navy's lap, entertaining the bastard not worhty of a single enchanting smile of yours. yet there you were smiling, no laughing at something the navy said, all while you were supposed to be with sanji. laughing at something he said, playing with his hair, sat on his lap.

he was this close to exploding and increasing his bounty a good amount by punching this navy untill his fists fell off. "sanji, don't you fucking dare." nami warned him, glaring at him from the other side of the table, not in the mood to be on the run again after finally being able to relax for a day.

sanji heard nami, he did! but the minute he saw the disgusting navy's hand run up your thigh causing you to jump off of him, he finally lost it. "keep your fucking hands off her you sewer rat!" he jumped up sprinting at the navy, his snow-white fists ready to release all the pent up anger he held.

but before sanji got to the navy he was stopped by you. your soft, slightly cold hands holding back one of his clenched fists. causing him to slowly unclench it. you tried to push sanji back, knowing his uproar would bring about another navy chasing. "you alright, love?" it's as if all his previous anger vanished the moment he felt your soft touch, smelled you sweet perfume, the moment you felt like his again. "y-yeah i'm good.. but we should get goi-"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" the navy man roared causing the others to swiftly join the yelling. "hey aren't those those strawhat pirates with a bounty?!" from the other side of the room it felt like you could hear nami's long sigh. "see what you've done?! grab zoro, usopp and i will take luffy!" everyone complied and assumed their role.

sanji lifted his leg up ready to kick zoro awake right before you pushed him slightly making him stand on two feet again. "not doing that sanji!" he playfully rolls his eyes at your statement.

waking up zoro and running to the ship in a hurry, with a good 3 dozen navy soldiers running behind you calling you names, was the usual. but what surprised you was sanji holding your hand tightly the whole way, not letting go for a second.

once on the ship, back to sailing on the waters, while everyone was catching their breath, sanji took you aside, he interlocked your hands with his while he locked your gazes, still breathless he looks at you earnestly. his eyes illuminating the moon's glow. "i'll stop the flirting my darling, i promise. the only woman i'll charm will be you.. so you better not grow tired of it." he chuckled still a little breathless. you smiled, leaning your body onto his. "you better sanji.."

"i'm all yours sweetheart. all yours"

LUFFY felt weird. he had never met this man before, yet he suddenly has the urge to gum gum bazooka him for the rest of the day. why is he feeling this way right now? is it because he hadn't eaten yet? no that can't be it.. he just had a very good meal with you; you two had split up from the rest of the crew to have your lunch at some fancy looking restaurant on the beach.

luffy furrows his eyebrows once again because of this feeling. he figures, after a while to be completely honest, that the reason he wants to kick this man off the island is that he's taking way too long speaking with you. he's been occupying you for a good 10 minutes now.

how could he? how did he dare to take you from him so carelessly? you two were enjoying your meals, yes you were chatting about the dumbest subjects known to the world, but you were enjoying it. and then some buff man comes and dares to ask you for directions?! it would've been fine if he had left after receiving them, but no, he had to keep talking to you!

luffy was starting to see red at this point. he gets it he does, you're a beautiful woman, you're smart yet very funny, energetic and enjoyable! but you're his. even though you don't know that, even though he never told you that, you are his. and no buff, tall, slick back haired guy was going to change that one bit.

luffy dropped his food and started to walk towards the two of you, angrily eyeing the bold man who was about to get bazooka-d to some far-away island. luffy started stretching his arms, getting ready to send him off.

you notice right away and block luffy's path to the man. trying to laugh it off, you said your goodbyes to the fella and dragged luffy back to the restaurant. "what were you thinking, luff! that could've ended up horribly!" you whisper-yelled, not wanting to attract any more unwanted gazes.

"he took you from me for 10 minutes! how was I supposed to endure any longer!" luffy childishly pouts as he resumes eating. "you could've just said so! no need to bazooka anyone anywhere luf'!" his furrowed eyebrows soften as he hears his nickname.

the first time you called him that he truly hated it. "it sounds like a dog's name!" he complained. but over time, that nickname became apart of him, it was apart of his daily routine; he'd wake up to it, adventure the world with it, buy groceries with it, hear scolds with it. he became one with that silly nickname you gave him, and he wouldn't give that three-letter name up for the world. he wouldn't be able to go a day anymore without hearing you talking about how "the seashells here are so pretty luf'!", or how "i just love it when it's only you and i, luf'," and let's not forget you waking him up with the usual "luf'! sanji finished breakfast, get up already!".

"you can't go off with weird men. i won't let you.. you shouldn't leave my side for some guy that doesn't even know where he's headed!" you chuckle at his remarks. "i wouldn't leave you for anyone luf'! just.. don't bazooka someone next time.. just talk to me."

"you're mine y'know.." luffy tells you while he's munching on some of his cold meat. your eyes widen at his sudden words. "w-what?" "i said you're mine!" he says louder, a little annoyed thinking you hadn't heard him the first time. "you never said that before.."

"never needed to," he takes another bite. "but you are, so don't forget that!" he furrows his eyebrows again while saying that earning a chuckle from you. "i won't.. don't you worry"

NOTE: and that's for my first one piece ficcccc!!!

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: once again, chan is a fucking loser, smut, f reader, dry humping, handjob, a lot of boob worship (?), spit kink (????) but not rlly, etc. this is a continuation to this, but can also be read as a standalone!

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

wc: 1258

masterlist

loser!chan, who feels like the luckiest bastard alive thanks to his chemistry teacher who decided to pair him up with his years-long crush.

ever since he started college, he thought that maybe he'd finally get rid of the loser nerd persona that had been assigned to him ever since middle school, when he started wearing thick-rimmed glasses to school and joined the anime club.

safe to say, that did not happen. due to his shy demeanor and lack of confidence, he remained an outcast in all situations possible, feeling as if he could never simply go up to someone and strike up a conversation. specially not with you, the pretty girl he met during orientation two years ago. someone who he had so badly wanted to get to know after catching your eyes one day during your intro bio course freshman year.

unexpectedly, now he found himself in your bed, your hands down his pants and your tongue lightly licking into his mouth as he moaned due to the friction. all thanks to his teacher's fateful decision to pair you up. ever since the first time you had invited him to your dorm for your group project (the first time he had ever felt the touch of a woman), you had found every opportunity possible to steal him away again under the vice of 'channie, we need to work on our assignment!'

your meetings tended to go pretty much the same every time. you'd both sit on your bed, pretending you were there for academic purposes as you set down your books and laptops in front of you while having much sinister thoughts in your heads. chan hadnt wanted to assume you'd always invited him over for anything other than studying, which is why he never made a move first, always allowing you to approach him and take him in whichever way you wanted.

that is how he was once again moaning into your mouth, trying to catch your tongue in his as you pulled your hands out of his pants, wanting to unzip them all the way through. so far, the most you and chan had done had been patting under your clothes and making out for a few hours, but it seemed like you wanted to go further this time.

chan felt like his heart was about to pop out of his chest, lifting his hips in order to help you take off his pants. what he hadnt expected, though, was for you to unglue yourself from him to throw your dress over your head before finally sitting on his lap. he had never felt the heat of someone else's body atop his like this before. he felt like he was burning.

"channie ..." you began. "why wont you touch me? you like how i touch you, dont you? dont you wanna do the same?", you pouted as you led his hands to your torso.

he gulped, breathing heavier than ever. "i- yes. wanna- please, show me. i-i dont know how, i-..." was his reply. he lowered his head, feeling embarrassed at being the ripe age of 23 having never felt the touch of a woman in this way.

"i know, channie. but it's okay. i'll show you."

with that, you let go of his hands momentarily to throw off your bra, quickly grabbing onto his hands again and placing them on your tits, "touch them channie," you breathed out, "touch them and rub them. it'll feel so good, i promise."

chan was frozen in place, eyes glued to your chest. he had never felt himself harder in his life. he'd obviously seen breasts before. both in class and through a screen (and he had maybe pictured yours sometimes before going to sleep..), but he had never felt the softness of them in his hands, nor the pebbles that hardened against his touch.

he followed your instructions, moaning at the way you threw your head back due to his fondling of them. your reaction made him intensify his touches. his actions had caused you to start lightly canting your panty-covered hips against his strained boxers, making him feel even more lightheaded. he decided to take initiative for once and lowered his head towards your chest, groaning as his tongue made contact with your nipple.

you let out a loud whine at the sudden contact, immediately pushing his head closer to your chest and grinding against him with more force now. "f-fuck channie. yes, please keep doing that. shit," your moaning kept driving chan insane, thinking about how desperate you must've been for him to have such reactions to his inexperienced touches.

you continued like this for a while. chan licking and sucking at your nipples while you whined and ground your hips against his. eventually this proved to not be enough for you, causing you to drag his face away from your chest and push him to lay fully on the bed, pinning his hands over his head.

"channie .. can i make you feel good? both of us. can i make us feel good?", you shallowed, delirious at the thought of finally meeting your end while with chan. the previous times you had met you had dedicated your time only to making him cum, wanting to warm him up for you before prioritizing your own pleasure.

"p-please. fuck. you dont have to ask. you can do whatever you want, just- a-argh fuck ..." his speech left him as you interrupted him with harsh grinding of your hips, the angle allowing his length to drag against the entirety of your pussy.

he hadnt known how warm and wet it would feel, having only ever felt his hand (well, now yours too) for the past few years. despite having his boxers and the light layer of your panties in the way, chan felt the heartbeat of your pussy pulse against his swollen dick, making all thought leave his head as he planted his feet on the bed and began to carelessly grind upwards against you, no rhythm to his movements but focused solely on chasing pleasure.

you humped against each other like animals, breathing into each other's mouths until you began to crave his taste, licking into his tongue as he threw his head back at the act. you lifted your head a bit, encouraging him to do the same and then directed him to stick out his tongue for you, which he did. you then began to lick and suck on his tongue, making him shake at the nastiness of it all.

he grabbed onto your hips, madly digging them against his with all the strength he could muster. you felt yourself get even wetter at the sheer force your cute innocent loser boy was using due to the pleasure clouding his mind, knowing that you'd cum any second now.

"'m gonna. fuck. gonna cum, channie. cum with me. please," you begged in a high whine.

chan had no willpower to respond and instead did his best to nod, once more throwing his head back as he came, you following soon after.

the aftermath consisted of a very exhausted chan being unable to move or process what had happened. you laid on top of him for a few minutes as you both caught your breaths. you were the first to speak up, lifting yourself off of him a bit, "sorry, i think i might've gotten over-excited," you chuckled, "id been thinking of that for a while. was that too much?"

he smiled moonily as he looked at the ceiling. "god, i hope we never finish our project."

n/a: not proofread aaahhhh sorry

[byunpum]

I don’t know if your request are open but I love your aunt y/n Sully series. Can I request one where there are men of the clan want to mate her. But her nephews (new included) don’t want her mated because they feel that it will take time away from them. So when ever they see a man walking up to her they get in the way. You can decide if she ends up with someone.

Avatar Masterlist

In one of the requests, I had mentioned Ruk'e who was Y/N partner (If you want to read more about it "HERE") But I didn't explain in depth how everyone's reaction was when they found out that their aunt had a partner. I think the most affected would be her nephews. Auntie Y/n has created a very strong bond with these children, she is like a second mother to them. But unlike their mother neytiri, they don't want to share her with anyone.

The first one to notice something is neteyam, he had gone to look for you to spend some time with you. And he felt that his little belly was hurting, and he knew that his aunt y/n would help him ease the pain with one of her favorite tea. Upon arriving at his location, he noticed a man standing next to you. You were laughing and he watched as he took some of the braid from his precious aunt's hair, placing it behind her ear. Neteyam was no fool, he was old enough to know that this man was flirting with HIS auntie. The boy runs to you, falling into your arms. Neteyam was your size, but he was still your baby. "Ahh net what happened honey?" you ask, you are surprised. Ruk'e moved a little away from you, looking at the cute scene before his eyes. " Auntie…my stomach hurts" neteyam says, now sitting between your legs to lay down on your chest. Stroking his stomach, pouting. You laugh a little, and caress his face. "net…how about we go to mo'at's and make that tea you like so much" you speak, the boy gets up quickly. Taking your hand, dragging you with him. He didn't even give you time to properly say goodbye to ruk'e. "See ya!!!" you shout, waving goodbye to him. The man copies your movements, even he could feel the boy's jealousy. It was very adorable for him.

Neteyam told everything to his brothers, who fell a little panicked. Because the little neteyam's words were something like "that man will take aunt y/n away from us forever, and she won't love us anymore" causing kiri and lo'ak to start crying. For eywa they could not lose you. So they decided to form a plan, to get that man out of your way. Of course, they had to recruit the whole squad. So they go running after spider.

To their bad luck, spider had already met ruk'e. And to make things worse, he really liked him. "What are you talking about!?????? He is the enemy!!!" shouted lo'ak taking his cousin by the shoulders and moving him from one side to the other. The poor boy looked like a puppet. Kiri pushes lo'ak. "Hey…you're hurting him," the girl says, hugging spider. Neteyam approaches, looking seriously at spider. He was trying to imitate his father, standing up straight with his head held high. "Spider….that man wants to take aunty y/n away from us…you must not be kind to the enemy. We must unite and defeat the 'auntie-stealer'" says neteyam, lo'ak and kiri clap him from behind, his little speech had excited them. Spider laughs. "Ruk'e is good to me…he's nice. I like him" spider is interrupted as he grabs his head. "We've lost him… he's had his brain eaten" lo'ak shouts exaggeratedly. Kiri hugs spider tighter. "Hey…I think he'd be a good dad…for me" says spider. His cousins almost faint. "We have to lock him in the lab until this whole thing is resolved" says neteyam, motioning to his brothers to catch spider. SPider runs off, as everyone runs after him. You could hear the giggles. "'They're really close, aren't they?" says ruk'e. You were next to him, both of you were hanging out together. "Yeah…they're inseparable" you laugh, as you watch lo'ak throw himself on top of spider, followed by kiri and neteyam.

The boys had a mission, and they were going to follow through with their plan. The days had passed, and every time they saw their aunt with that man. They would run to ask for your help, or they would make up any excuse to get away from him. They thought everything was going great. It wasn't until one night, when the children heard the voice of their aunt y/n entering the hut. They started to approach the entrance, but stopped short. They noticed how behind their aunt, stood the man they had tried to scare away behind their aunt. Lo'ak saw how the man was holding his aunt's hand, the boy was about to cry. "Lo'ak!!!" shouts spider, the child was next to you.

Neteyam ran as fast as he could, stopping in front of the couple. Stretching out his hands and feet. He looked like a starfish, a pretty blue starfish. "No….he will not enter our home. AUNT Y/N…STAY AWAY FROM HIM" neteyam shouts. This gets the attention of jake and neytiri. "Neteyam!!! What's wrong with you?" says neytiri. Approaching to where her son is, taking him by the arm. But the boy soils himself, and runs to hug his aunt. Followed by lo'ak and kiri. All the children were hugging and you could hear how they were whimpering. "And what is wrong with you three?" you are confused. This was supposed to be a quiet reunion, not a sea of crying.

"He's going to separate us…I love you aunt y/n!!! he wants to take us away from you" shouts neteyam, You could tell the three kids looked funny. They were about your size. Maybe a few inches shorter than you, they had you wrapped in a hug. Crying and throwing tantrums. All the adults in the hut couldn't hold back a giggle. They looked so cute. "Hey…come here. Calm down" you speak, separating yourself from them. Taking their hands, to lead them to where they were all supposed to sit down to spend some time together.

"Listen…you know you guys are my whole life, I love you unconditionally. And no one…no one in this world will ever make me stop loving you." You speak, turning to signal ruk'e to sit next to you. Jake and neytiri watched the scene. They knew this was yours to fix, you were an important piece in their children's lives. "Ruk'e..is my mate" you speak, watching as kiri puts her hands to her mouth, she was about to protest. You reach over and take her hands in yours. "He is good to me…and he will be good to you too. And he will take care of you as much as I do" you speak, watching as lo'ak comes to your side, laying his head on your shoulder. "No…I don't want him to love me" neteyam says, you take his hand. Dragging him onto your lap, the boy clings to you. Snuggling into your chest like a baby.

"There…there. Stop being dramatic. Your aunt isn't going to leave you and no one is going to take anyone," says Jake, calming the mood a bit. Ruk'e takes out of his bag that he had on his waist, a kind of bracelet. It was very pretty, with soft colors. And carefully handed it to Kiri, the girl lowered her face a little blushing. "Here baby…I made this for you" says the man, watching as the girl carefully puts on the bracelet. Kiri thanks him, and sits closer to him. "And I also brought something for you two…little warriors." Ruk'e speaks. Watching as both children look at him intently. "Spider told me that you two really liked the ikrans …so" the man pulls out two ikran figurines, they were small and very precious. Lo'ak immediately approached him, taking the toy. Giving him a smile. "Thank you" says the boy softly, sitting down next to spider. Neteyam hesitated, but reached across your lap to take the toy.

After 2 hours, all the children were at ruk'e's side. Neteyam was next to him, explaining everything he had learned in his last classes. Lo'ak and spider were trying to climb the man's back. Which didn't bother ruk'e, to him they were two fleas playing on his back. While kiri was braiding a piece of his hair, putting some flowers in it.

You laugh, watching your partner play with your nephews. "thank goodness they were just upset." says jake, laughing. "They love you very much" says neytiri, you nod your head. Seeing the smiles your nephews and son had. They looked so happy…they're just a little jealous.

[lazyjellyfish300]

Blurred Lines Part 2❤️‍🩹

Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader

Synopsis: you and Miguel have a casual arrangement of just sex. You reluctantly agree in hopes that you can get him to fall for you. Unfortunately, it's not that simple.

Word count: 3.9k

Part 1

@sukunash0e

@latenightcravingz

TW: MINORS DNI, MASTURBATION,SMUT(P IN V, SPIT, CREAMPIE, FINGERING), ANGST, ALCOHOL, HEARTBREAK BUT HAPPY ENDING AS PROMISED 🖤

Miguel stares downwards at the bustling scene of Nueva York from his window at HQ one afternoon, deep in thought. It had been several weeks since the incident at the annual Spider Gala, when you brazenly called him out in front of everyone and he left you crying in a dark lab by yourself.

Beneath the surface, all the intimate hours you two spent between each other's legs became more than just fucking to Miguel also. He couldn't trace it back to the exact moment it happened, but he knew at least after the first time when he kissed your lips that you were going to be trouble.

Each time he was in your presence after that, he kept riding the waves of denial, hoping that his submerged affection for you wouldn't bob to the surface, intensifying and building into a love that would knock him off his feet. He'd been in many situations like this before, but you were the first to cut him deep.

This whole time, he thought he was the one who you'd need to be wary of. He thought he occupied the higher seat since he was the one that requested no strings attached, not aware that the way you kissed him and gazed into his eyes would be enough for you to pull the rug out from under him altogether. That time you burst out laughing when you both nearly rolled off your bed admist your passion even if only for a moment, brought him back to a time before he lost his daughter where he knew how to smile.

It took about 3 days after you quit for him to realize that he hadn't seen you in some time. He knew that as of late, the task of turning in the weekly reports had been transferred to one of your coworkers so you wouldn't be forced to see his face as your way of protecting your already flayed heart. The sight of his beautiful face threatening to reopen the wound you only recently managed to stop bleeding.

However, he'd usually catch you in the hallways from afar, or he'd check on your whereabouts on his surveillance screens, a fact he was a little bit more ashamed of. Just him knowing that you were still around, operating within his orbit was enough for him, even if he was still too cowardly to confront the truth he tried so hard to mask.

When he finally asked your supervisor what became of you and was told that you quit, he felt a stream of guilt take over his body, but brushed it off with a curt nod and a slow walk back to his empty office. Now, he found himself contemplating in his room after work, staring out his window. Business as usual for the city below while he was left to contend with his demons inside.

He had also heard the rumors of you and Peter B. It bothered him way more than he thought it would. But it was pointless to be upset over a woman he did not have. Being jealous wasn't his right, but he felt it anyway as the unmistakable green eyed monster reared its ugly head in his direction.

The thoughts of Peter pounding his dick into you, making you throw your head back and delivering you to orgasm even if it was only for one night had Miguel punching the air. It should've been him. He couldn't leave you alone for two seconds before the wolves descended. A fool he was for not scooping you up earlier so that the treasure of your heart and the gift of your soft body was for him and him only.

He scanned over your fights with him over and over again in his head. Hindsight causing him to wish that he could go back and do it differently. Instead of shrinking and cowering away at your utterance that you loved him, lean into it and just allow himself to love you back. Allow himself to beome alive again. Allow himself to make peace with the possibility of being hurt again. Allow himself to trust someone with his heart he so heavily guarded.

The emptiness tripled at night when he'd lay down, alone again in this bed he made himself, metaphorically and literally. Biting his lip and gathering the thin sheets in a tight grip as he bucked his hips to his hungry strokes of the thought of you. As though every thrust he made into the ghost of you contained every unattainable word of love he wanted to moan in your ear while you laid there and took him perfectly. As though he was a parched man surviving on only the bitter taste of wine, when the oasis he was looking for laid between the valley of your thighs.

He panted there with his release on his stomach in the dark, the clarity of you being gone hitting him like cold water. He couldn't call you after he deleted your number at your request. He had really lost you now. The softness of your lips and the melody of your laugh were only tapes in his memories that he could play again and again, until the passage of time would inevitably erode them away. He buries his yearning for you deep in his bones, hoping that eventually the sound of your name would no longer sting. His tried (but so far not yet true), familiar method of bottling his feelings up and attempting to move on.

----

After you crossed over into the next chapter of your life without Miguel, attempts to keep the door open were still made by Peter B. He'd call you up after work, send flowers to your doorstep, weaving another sinister tempting web for you to get caught in. You let him down easy with a gentle bat of your eyes. You had figured out his ulterior motive that you were just a means to stave off his insatiable sexual appetite, an alluring rebound after his wife shattered his heart.

Truly, Miguel was the one who lived in your head rent free with no plans to move out anytime soon. You figured hooking up with Peter was the nail in the coffin. Another man ruining you for him for good. But you reminisced any way, even if in reality you assumed he would never look your way again.

Touching yourself at night not realizing he was doing the same thing miles away. Remembering how marvelously he fucked you. Remembering how the mouthwatering stroke of his hips plus the desire in his crimson eyes caused you to see black. Remembering the times you compelled him to give you one of his gorgeous smiles that were few and far between. The richness of his voice that was silk against your eardrums. Until your desire squirted out of you, leaving you breathless and sweaty in your bed he fucked you in months before, until the pleasure brought you to a gentle sleep.

Practically a year had now passed. The mere thought of him no longer immediately haunted you, no longer tormented your pysche, no longer sent nausea to your belly, but your love for him still existed. A forgotten candle burning in a dark room.

You get a message out of the blue from Jess inviting you out for coffee. You feel surprised yet welcome the unexpected gesture of kindness. As you walk in to the small café, she's sitting in a corner booth, the unmistakable, yet fatigued glow of late pregnancy hanging around her.

She flashes a warm smile at you as you give her a hug and sit down across from her, the sharp corners of her winged eyeliner pulling her almond shaped eyes into a regal display of femininity.

"How have you been?" She asks as her spoon lightly clinks against the white porcelain of the mug she's drinking out of.

The corners of your mouth slowly pull upward into a closed lip smile as you acknowledge that you're doing well. Realizing for the first time that you truly mean it.

"I've been meaning to thank you for having my back during all of the things that went down between Miguel and I."

Jess waves her hand at you. "It's nothing. I'm happy to help in any way. You're one of the first lab techs we ever had that I didn't need to repeat myself more than once to. You were stellar at your job, and you were overall just a fun one to be around." Her shoulders shake a little as she chuckles at the memories of the banter you two would share at lunchtime.

You grin and do the same. "How's the pregnancy treating you?"

She sighs. "Well, it's any day now. I'm actually drinking raspberry leaf tea today to try and get this show on the road," she laughs. "I'm supposed to give a speech for my Spider-Woman of the year nomination in a couple of days, but I don't think I'll be able to do it." She takes a deep breath, knowing that the next question she's about to ask you might cause you to recoil into your shell.

"Would...you give my speech for me?"

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you're actually all on board with helping your old work girlfriend out. "Absolutely!" you answer, only just realizing the implications as soon as you accept.

"Will...he, um be there?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

Jess gives you an understanding look and nods her head. She pauses and glances down, not sure if the only tea she should spill right now is the one in the mug sitting on the wooden table in front of her.

"Want me to tell you more about what I know?" She checks in with you.

You nod, bracing yourself for news that might hurt your feelings but you're dying to know anyway.

"Well, for one, Peter got back together with MJ." figures. "But Miguel's been different. He misses you."

You feel your stomach spin on itself.

"Let me add a disclaimer: he didn't say those words himself. But I know him well enough to know that he does." Jess clarifies.

You raise your eyebrows, her statement yanking you back down to Earth.

"Really, Jess?"

Jess's head tilts to the side. "Come on now, I have never told a lie. I sure as hell didn't lie when I warned you about him the first time, didn't I?"

Oooof, touché.

You nod, accepting defeat. "I'd still love to give your speech for you. Let me know if there's anything else I can do and good luck with your baby. I'm super happy for you."

Jess smiles at you once more as she slides her speech in a folded up paper across the table to you and gives you another warm hug before you depart, the heaviness of the task weighing you down knowing you're about to be in the presence of the one man who makes you weak for the first time in almost a year.

Jess gives herself a silent pat on the back as she leans back and sips her tea. Her attempt to reunite the pining, estranged lovers commencing in just a few days.

-----

3 days later

You take a deep breath as you prepare to enter the fray. The man who ruined your life and trampled your heart into the ground inside the building before you.

You enter, the bottoms of your heels coming into contact with a plush red carpet clashing against your simple, short burgundy dress this time. A short, stocky Spider-Man greets you and trades you a dainty champagne flute in exchange for your coat.

You make your way into the main dining hall, and the light chatter and violins fill your ears as the quiet elegant ambiance of the night floods your senses. You're fashionably late, as you can see everyone already making their way to their seats. Your eyes dart around, searching for Miguel, but you don't spot him yet.

Suddenly, you hear your name being called from the stage and it jostles you into panic mode. You slam down the rest of your champagne and leave it on a random table top and scurry up to the stage, eyes watering and lips puffy from the carbonation of the drink.

You feel the gaze of a hundred pairs of eyes cutting into you as you stand in the same spot you disgraced a year earlier. The champagne acts quickly, you take it on the head and unfold the speech Jess prepared for you, the nerves faintly evident as they threaten to cause your clear voice to shake.

"The acceptance speech for Spider-Woman of the Year as prepared by Jessica Drew, who regrets that she could not be here tonight to give this herself." You carefully continue, "I would like to express my humble, yet utmost gratitude for this award. It is my honor to serve and protect all inhabitants of the multiverse. A destined calling which I take very seriously. First and foremost, I would like to thank my darling husband and soon to be father of our child. You're my reason for it all."

As soon as those words escape your lips you look up to make eye contact with the audience and coincidentally lock right on the target you've been so anxiously awaiting since you stepped foot inside: Miguel O'Hara. Dark and chiseled and looking just as handsome as the day you met him, if not even better as his sharp tux was doing his physique all kinds of favors tonight, his brown tousled locks bringing it all together.

You nearly fold but rip your gaze from him back to the paper in front of you, realizing you have a job to do and knowing if you look into his eyes that the whole thing will come toppling down.

"In addition, I'd like to thank my mother and father for raising me and instilling the values in me of what it means to be a good person which no doubt has shaped me into the woman I am today. I'd like to thank my boss, Miguel O'Hara..."

His name feels odd leaving your lips, a chink in your armor that the audience surely caught by now if they weren't already up to speed on your scandalous reputation at Spider HQ.

You clear your throat, "...for believing in me. Thank you all so much for this prestigious award. I will try hard to live up to, if not exceed the responsibilities that this honor carries. Thank you."

A generous applause erupts and you give a modest bow and exit the stage, hustling for the fresh air of outside, hoping the calmness of the night will transfer onto you as you come down from your anxious high.

But, he's already waiting outside for you, leaning against a pillar, nursing champagne, gazing off at the deep lavender sky that's begun to set. He whips around almost if on queue and halts you dead in your tracks as you begin to abort the mission and leave inside.

"Wait..." he sighs and approaches you while you stay frozen. A deer in headlights.

"Please don't leave without me getting a chance to at least apologize to you." The corners around his eyes soften.

You stand there with a dry throat and slowly gulp.

"Look, I slept with Peter B. that night..," you blindly confess.

Miguel blinks, but his eyes stay locked on your shaking frame. "I know. But I don't care," he says flatly.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and turns away from you for a moment, then turns back around when he's ready to continue with his monologue, taking a step closer to you with every word he says,

"I'm sorry that I was too big of a coward to acknowledge how you felt. If I didn't want you to fuck Peter, then I should have made you mine the moment you confessed you really loved me too..."

He takes a deep breath, he's doing this for you. Damned if he doesn't take the leap right now. "Because the truth, is I've been suffering slowly this whole time. I need you..."

Your eyelids flutter, emotions building in your chest. He catches on and notices you're feeling it too, and his voice becomes more at ease as he continues to speak softly,

"Love hurts. And if I need to hurt to know what it's like to love you then I'll be cut a hundred times. I'll hand you my heart and let you shatter it all over again just for you to let me take you to my room after this and keep you until the morning, or as long as it takes for me to convince you that you're in love with me too.

I already knew you'd shake up my world the moment you came strutting in those ridiculous outfits just to get me to notice you. The moment I finally dared to kiss you and started fucking you like it was the only thing I knew how to do. Like it was the only thing I ever wanted to do. Like I was meant to do it. Like I needed the very essence of you burned into my body forever..."

Your breath has escaped you this time, the corner of your eyes threatening to leak. He's inches away from you now, looking down on you as the endearing height difference between you two creates the perfect image of two lovers standing frozen in time, loving words exchanged that will bond the pair inevitably that night and always.

"Like if all the words rearranged to describe every single thing about you that drives me fucking insane could no longer do you justice. Like if I could no longer speak and I just needed to show you with my cock instead..." he whispers, taking your chin in his fingers and slipping his other hand down your waist, the arousal intensifying at a dizzying pace in your core by now.

"Please don't let me suffer any longer. I want you for myself," he utters. Crimson eyes pulling you in and holding you there.

You nearly tackle him as you reach up and kiss him furiously. His hands fly immediately all over your body. The body he missed so much. The body he loved on for hours and hours, spilling his seed into it. Panting into each other's mouths, starstruck at this passionate reunion, there's only one thing left to do.

"Let's get out of here," you exhale, the champagne on your breath leaving an alluring taste in his mouth.

Miguel smiles, pressing a kiss into your forehead and sweeping you up bridal style. Heads turn as he carries you inside and upstairs to his room at HQ, the two volatile lovers reunited at last. But they never looked so good together. Never looked like they belonged together more than they did now. The year separation was the pull they needed to wind up back into each other's arms.

When you and Miguel get back to his dark room, it's a frenzy of ripped clothes and soft moans but he pauses when it's his turn to take off your burgundy satin dress. He breathes deeply as he lays both of his strong large hands on your shoulders, moving your spaghetti straps down under his palms, the silky fabric slinking off your body leaving you bare with your nipples poking deliciously out from the chilly air greeting it, except a pair of black panties which he's hooked onto his fingers and slid them down off your hips.

You're sat on the edge of his bed. Miguel gets on his knees and licks a stripe from the top of your mound to the middle of your plush belly with his tongue, eliciting a high pitched moan from you which goes straight to his dick, tenting it from his delicious naked outline that you can faintly make out in the dark. Relying on your taste and touch senses to guide you through this lust-packed night which amplifies the pleasure to mind boggling levels. You revel at the size of him, a year's time causing you to forget and wonder how you'll be able to take him this time.

He catches your back with his hand, letting you lay backwards slowly as he moves you up on the bed closer to the pillows so you can rest while he gets to work on you.

He skillfully uses his knees to part your legs, leaving you glistening and exposed for him to take.

He groans at the sight of you laid out for him.

"God, I fucking missed this..."

He begins to curl his fingers deep within you, laving himself in your arousal and making you arch your back and curl your toes. Your mouth falls open and you press your head forcefully into his pillows which galvanize you to a whole new level of desire when you realize they're laced with his divine scent of sandalwood.

Your gaze is suddenly interrupted when his pretty face looms over you, crimson eyes devoured by adoration of your over sensitive reaction to just his fingers.

"Open your mouth," he whispers.

You obey and a line of his yummy spit lands on your tongue. You moan as you taste it. The flavor a mixture of your chapstick, his minty mouthwash, and the champagne from earlier.

"So fucking good..." you whine, closing your eyes.

You're about to lose it right then and there when you suddenly feel empty. You look up with faint disappointment which evaporates almost instantly when you see Miguel squaring his big strong arms on either side of your head, shifting for a moment to use a spare hand to guide himself to you.

The stretch is painful at first and you cry out. He silences you with a passionate kiss, sliding his tongue tenderly into your mouth. He lets the soft fullness of his lips loosen you up, causing you to open your legs wider for him and buck your hips eagerly, needing to take him all at once.

He groans deeply at this welcome change in you. You surrendering to the fatal strokes of his cock. He tangles a hand in your hair and buries his face in your neck smothering it in wet kisses. His hips stall with an agonizing pull out, then slam back into you, the crazed love he felt for you in each delectable thrust into your pussy.

He continued, relishing in the way your hair decorated his pillows and the sounds of your soft moans reverberating off his walls. Pummeling into you with all the loving frustration he pent up for a year being deprived of you.

"Te amo..." he groaned into your ear as he filled you up completely. You let out a high pitched gasp as all the passion came to an even sexier conclusion.

"I love you more..." you whisper up at him, swimming in your post- orgasmic bliss and running your hands along his sweaty brow, coming to a rest on his chiseled jaw.

"Not possible." He shakes his head, beaming down at you. He rolls over and pulls you onto his chest, both of your bellies rising and falling as sleep quickly started to overcome you.

"Should we get breakfast tomorrow?" He asks in a drowsy voice.

"Yes please..." you sigh, your words slurring with exhaustion at the end.

And so you finished the night in each other's arms. Entertwined as though you never left. Moonlight leaking gently through and casting sensual light on the promising life you were beginning. Together.

----

🖤

[random-introverted-blog]

Come Home To Me [Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader]

The 10MB limit will be the death of me

Intended Audience: Mature [May ratings never stop you]

Who be smoochin?: Astarion x F!Reader

The Bit: You leave Astarion, save the day and go back to your hometown to live happily ever after with your family. Good thing he's not your crazy jealous ex. Otherwise who knows what he'd do when he found you? Happily minding your own business? oh, perish the thought, darling. Oh, and some time later you accidentally die without permission. He is not a happy camper about any of this. He may or may not raze your town and kill your family in the process...

Warnings/Advisories: It's Ascended!Astarion, guys. Come on. Still need me to explain? Fine. *Unfurls the world's longest scroll* Expect yandere elements, forced vampirism [yes...], intentional manipulation to cause Stockholm Syndrome. Emotional abuse by proxy, possessive behavior *pauses to shimmy more of the scroll into view* "you have a sister and she kinda a thirsty ho but we don't judge you go queen". And violence. Of the graphic variety. "I would have given you a dog, but he'd have probably killed the dog". Everything is (literally) on fire. And death. Lots of it. ANGST. Bad ending? Depends on what you consider bad. If you like obsessive yandere vampire boys then it's probably a good ending for you.

Words, all the words (count) : 4,001 baebeee

And away, we... GO

ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The last thing you said to him about it was in reply to his hurtful comments.

"Well, that's fine with me. My home isn't with you, anyway."

It had been some time since you defeated the Absolute and your quiet little hamlet had remained such since your triumphant return. Hardly a thing had changed, not the Wilks farmstead, not the general store, not even that old and tipping wooden signpost. Few of your companions knew of the place you called home. He had never asked; you had never told, and it seems it was a blessing you hadn't. The last thing you wanted was for him to stroll into town and go out of his way to remind you how happy he was without you.

Which definitely seemed like a thing he would do.

As if he didn't have better things to do.

Thankfully, it sounds like he has. Such an opportunity to take Baldur's Gate by the throat was one only a fool would pass up. And Astarion Ancunín was certainly no fool. In no time, he had charmed and maneuvered himself to the top of the food-chain. By means of persuasion, intimidation... and a tactic of his you're intimately familiar with.

Seduction.

Oh, the rumors of who he has or hasn't slept with. Was it necessary to get where he was now? No. It was a display of power now. Dominance. He could have anything and anyone he wanted, anyone he deemed worth his whim, and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do to stop it. And clearly, he didn't want you.

It stung a little. You had genuinely fallen in love with the man he used to be. But that was the keyword, wasn't it? He used to be. The man he had become now was a stranger. The warmth that once resided in his eyes had been replaced by a chilling, calculating gaze. Gods, why didn't he just listen to you? He didn't need the ritual. He was already more than enough...

With a shake of your head, you stepped out the front door of your small, two floor cottage and made the brief journey to your parents' house. A smile curled your lips when you saw your older sister waiting for you outside "Y/N, you're late!" She scolds with a laugh, throwing her arms around you.

A roll of your eyes and you returned her hug. "An adventurer is never late. They arrive always when they intend to."

"Sounds like a fancy way of admitting you're always late to me." Your brother remarks gruffly. Your mother not far behind. "You sure your time as a big hero didn't go to your head?" He adds with a raise of his eyebrow.

You move away from your sister and embrace your mother first, then your brother. "I kind of had other things in my head then, brother dearest," you remind them with a small laugh.

Your mother lightly smacked your brother's large arm and narrowed her eyes. "Don't drive her away with that attitude of yours, unless you want her to return to adventuring!" She scolds with a playful glint in her gaze.

A sigh escaped your lips. It had been five long years since you've taken up your old gear and hit the road. Part of you missed it. But you'd never admit that to her. She was just so glad to have you home, you couldn't bear to take that from her. Not after your father had passed while you were out saving the world.

"Come now, my starlings, I've got your sister's favorite on the stove for lunch," she cooed and herded the three of you inside. And like every time you come over, you spend your time regaling them of your journey and heroics. Of your friends' camaraderie around the campfire. From Wyll's many dances with Karlach, Shadowhearts' best snarky comebacks, Gale's incredible displays of powerful magic and Lae'zel's discipline, her culture and brutal efficiency.

And every time, you noticed the look your brother would give. Initially, you thought it was protectiveness. No matter how much you tried to downplay it, your family was acutely aware of the gravity of your situation back then. Perhaps your brother was merely thinking how many times they came so close to losing you, without them realizing it.

Maybe it was partly true, but it certainly was not the only reason. "Sister, I'm sorry but I must ask..." He began, gently clearing his throat as he leaned back in his chair, across the table from you. "I was in the Gate not too long ago and heard... things. That you never seem to mention yourself..."

Despite your efforts to wrack your brain, you come up blank and draw your brows together. You cast a glance at your sister beside you and your mother, beside your brother. They don't seem as confused as you... "Lord Ancunín, was he not a companion of yours? They say he is also a Hero of Baldur's Gate."

"Yes." You answer sharply, also leaning back in your chair. "And you heard he and I were involved, I take it? That's what this is about?" You were getting defensive. You knew it, but you couldn't stop it. Even now, the damned elf was a sore spot for you.

The man your brother was, he never backed down or cowed away from anything, hardly ever you and only consistently your mother. He dipped his chin and held your glare. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, his words blunt but his tone low.

You chuckle dryly, and your gaze immediately flicks towards the door. "What does it matter? It was five years ago. Astarion and I were in love, yes, love. And then he took a path I couldn't follow in good conscience. So we did what we had to, then went our separate ways."

He paused, considering your response. Your sister was practically biting her nails in an effort to silence all the questions she had for you about your evidently dramatic love life. Your mother gave you the worst look of them all.

Pity.

"If it is as you say, little sister. Then I can only commend you for remembering your worth. From what I gather, he is not a man worthy of your attention," he says with a stiff nod.

A weak smile tugs at the corner of your lips. "He was. Once..."

"So what was he like? Was he as charming and beautiful as they say he is in person?" Your sister gushes as soon as she deems there's an opening in the conversation.

You hold up a hand to stop your brother and mother from scolding her. Somehow she's older than you, if only by two years. "Yes, and yes. Even after we broke up, I found him painfully gorgeous. His voice was like velvet, he was smart and witty and knew just what to say..." now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, you decided to indulge your sister's silly fascination about your ex. If just for today.

Afterward, the three of you, as always, did the remaining housework for your mother. A gesture of gratitude for everything she had done for you all as children, and still into adulthood. Life without your father had noticeably taken its toll, hence why your siblings had moved back home. None of them had outside obligations, and you were still trying to settle down from your adventuring days and really needed the quiet.

On your way out the door, intent on your cottage for the evening, your mother touched your arm. "Before I forget, starling!" she says, reaching for the small table next to the door, "this came here, addressed to you."

She extends her hand, offering you a letter adorned with a peculiar and ornate wax seal. You turn it over once or twice in your hand before smiling and thanking her. Odd. The only ones who wrote to you were Shadowheart and Gale and not only did they know to send your letters to your home, but they didn't use wax seals either. Not even Gale.

No one else knew where your hometown was. Even fewer that you returned here after your party disbanded. So who else could have sent it? That is clearly your name above the seal. It was not a mistake on the courier's part. But then, that was the only way this made much sense. Who could have found, cared enough to write and send a letter to you after all this time? To the wrong house, to boot?

It was a persistent question that nagged at you, making the walk home feel longer than usual. Paying only mild attention to the eerie stillness in the cool night air.

You set it down on your kitchen table to turn on the lanterns around your cottage, illuminating the room with a soft, golden glow before you decide to open it at last. The letter revealed its contents - or lack thereof, as you unfolded it and saw only two lines in the center of the parchment.

Playtime is over, pet.

It's time for you to come home.

For a moment, and only a moment, your brows draw together. And when it clicks in your mind, you toss the letter on the table as if it's poisoned, or worse, Him and you paced restlessly in front of your table. Fixated on the parchment, as if it might attack you when you least expect it. What could he possibly want now? Half a decade later, you've moved on. Hadn't he? How many others had he taken to his bed since you went your separate ways? Couldn't he have busied himself with them instead? Out of all those partners, a plethora of variety, you were sure, not a one of them had held his attention for at least a decade? And why, by all the gods above and below, did he send it to your mother's house? Such a careless mistake was unlike him. If he had gone through all this effort to find you, surely he had to at least know where you actually lived in town.

Your heart sunk as the thought crossed your mind.

It wasn't a mistake. He doesn't just know where you live...

A scream rang out, snapping your eyes to the door. More shrieks followed, and you darted to the window. Faces ran frantically down and up the road, smoke billowed into night sky, dusted with stars, from closer to the village center. You clenched your teeth, giving yourself a moment to seethe with anger before rushing upstairs to the chest at the foot of your bed. Did you have time to equip your armor? Most likely, not. Best to take your weapons. The sooner you're outside, the better.

Prepared as you were ever going to be, you dashed down the stairs and shouldered your front door open. The raiders were already in front of your house. You recognized the hauntingly pale, lifeless face of Gregory, the barman, in the claws of a half elf. His sharp red eyes weredistant as he gorges on his meal, mouth latched tight to Gregory's neck.

"Another!" cheered a nasally voice behind you. Two spawn leaped down from the thatch roof of your home. Quickly closing in. The human woman continued, "Ohh, I can taste this one already! How delicious! Perhaps I should save some for Master—"

"Don't be foolish!" hissed the half elf, tossing the drained body aside. "Master said our reward was a feast, and I intend to feast!" He lunged, fangs glistening with fresh blood in the dim light. Experience traveling with at least one vampire had prepared you for the tactic, and you stepped out of the way with ease.

It was the halfling that seemed the only one not mad with bloodlust. "B-but Master said... there was one we couldn't..." she stammered, eyeing you almost with recognition.

But the other two ignored her and threw themselves at you again.

Despite the boredom that consumed your life over the past few years, you were unwavering in your commitment to staying in shape and proficient in combat. You sparred regularly with the local guards, who were more than happy to help. They learned a few things in turn, after all, from the Hero of Baldur's Gate. So staying almost two steps ahead of these stumbling corpses was a breeze, almost comically easy for you.

Until your eyes caught sight of a burning home, the heat of the flames could be felt from where you stand. Your mother's burning home... As everything else melted away, a numbness washed over your limbs and your heart settled into stillness. Just as you were about to cry out, a blade mercilessly penetrated your back, twisting with a force that seemed intent on separating your torso from your hip. The taste of blood coated your tongue, while an indescribable agony consumed your every nerve. Fangs as sharp as razors mercilessly sunk into your neck, accompanied by the loud, insatiable slurping sounds that invaded your ears.

Except for one last sound before your world began to fade. "No! You worthless wastes of flesh, what are you doing!?" roared from somewhere distant, rapidly getting closer.

The grip on your body relented, and you crumpled to the ground. Above you, a familiar, curly white-haired, fangs and all ascendant vampire lord. His face was almost feral. Hoisting the human by the throat with one hand, her feet kicking in the air. "I gave you an entire village of fools to feed on, a vivid description of the one woman who was off-fucking-limits...!"

A serene anger washed over his face, causing a shiver to run down your spine, as he sealed his lips and glared at her with an icy stare. "You will wait, on your knees, until I am ready to thoroughly enjoy goring your body with my bare hands."

Her voice strained, she barely managed to gasp out "Master...!" before he mercilessly flung her aside, treating her with the indifference one would show to a discarded toy. The moment her body hit the ground, it rigidly rolled and moved until it settled on its knees in place. Silent sobs wracked her body, and tears streamed down her face, leaving her cheeks damp.

In an instant, his eyes landed on your unfocused one, coughing blood. You knew you were dying. But it wasn't as sad, or even as painful as you expected. "You spiteful son of a bitch..." you hissed, spitting blood from your mouth. He opened his to reply, but you wouldn't let him. You were going to enjoy this... You panted, wheezing the last of your energy into your last twist into his heart. "I damn you, Astarion... I damn you to the Hells. I damn you to misery..." Quoting the man that you knew haunted him still.

You take the clenching of his jaw and his balled fists to your grave with delight as your eyes fall closed, and you breathe your last.

You finally find peace, a gentle presence that settles within your soul. It was a peace so pure, so profound, that it felt almost otherworldly. There was a weightlessness in the air, as if burdens had been lifted and freedom embraced. Your eyes are drawn to the path ahead, its surface adorned with pristine, pearly white stones. Your brother stood at the end, ready to greet you. There stood your father and mother, beckoning you with open arms. And your heart swells with an untameable warmth as you start down toward them.

A cold, deathly grip catches the back of your neck, sending a sudden jolt of fear through your body. Pain squeezed you with an intensity you had never felt before. Your mouth opens, but not even a whimper escapes you as you're forcefully dragged back, kicking and flailing.

With a heavy gasp, your heart pounds in your chest as you lurch forward. Or at least you start before cold, familiar hands grab hold of you, pulling you into his arms. "Now, now, darling, just relax..." Astarion sighs in your ear, his voice thick with... relief?

You died... you were free of this... of him. "I was... going home..." you whimper, unable to fully choke back the sob, not even sure how he managed to forcefully bring you back.

"You are already home, pet."

In your frantic attempt to escape, you notice that the sights, sounds, and smells are completely different - you're no longer in your village, but a large, opulent bedchamber. Lavish furniture and ornaments of gold, silver, so many you quickly lose count. The gentle, rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock provided a comforting background noise. A luxorious silk gown, likely worth a kings ransom, has replaced your weathered tunic and trousers you knew you were wearing before. The softest linens you've ever felt in your life gently caress your bare legs.

His hand petting your head snaps you back from your observations. "Why the face?" Astarion murmurs, "did you truly think death would keep you from me? Little love, I can take anything I want. Even from the jaws of death itself." He briefly looks away as he giggles that short, airy sound that used to melt your heart. "Or did you think your heroic brother would, what, break my nail before I ripped out his throat?"

It's enough you try to wrench yourself from his arms again, stopping short of beating your fists against his stupid, fancy white and blue doublet. "You spiteful bastard..." you repeat from your memory as he keeps you held against him with little effort. "I was there with them, my family—"

"Hush, darling, you're not being reasonable," Astarion mutters, his fingers on your back drawing shapes and patterns that you reluctantly admit still soothed you. "I let them have you long enough. I let you play house in that backwater, and now it is time for you to take your place at my side. You were fated to be mine, and mine, you will always be." He explained, as if he was making perfect sense and stating the obvious.

You scoffed, trying again to leverage your hands on the bed, or his lap to put any amount of distance between you and him. "So dying and forcing me back, all reasonable?"

The look in his eyes turned sharp, reminiscent of the way he eyed that spawn. "Well, if you had been where you belonged, none of that would have happened, would it?" He chastised, lulling his head to one side. "I've already cast the insignificant wretch into the kennels. You are welcome to watch her suffer. Perhaps I'll grant her a blessing and allow her to kiss your feet before I peel her lips off her face... Or maybe after..." Astarion trailed off thoughtfully, his eyes up and away a moment as he considered the grotesque torture, as if casually deciding what flavor tea he'll have in the morning. "How comfortable are you with blood between your toes, my dear?"

You were experiencing such emotional turbulence that you momentarily wondered if any of this was actually happening. If he was aware, he paid no mind to it, as another wild thought captivated his mind. "And why did you not tell me you had such a deliciously submissive sister? Honestly, my love, if she can watch me kill your brother, drain your mother and still stare so eagerly at me, why can't you?"

Your heart froze, and you swallowed hard. Unwanted images of what he could have, and probably had done to your family flashed through your mind. As you stilled in his arms, he moved a hand into the air and snapped his fingers. And like a well-trained puppy, in she waltzed, wearing a black simple dress. Expressionless and silent as she stood before you. Watching you with scarlet eyes. "You know I'd never hurt you, of course. But perhaps your sweet sister can model the obedience I expect from you..."

Infinite threats, insults and visions of violence cross your mind, and like he can read them, Astarion gives you a stern, scolding look. From the corner of your eye, you catch a tear rolling down her cheek and it takes everything from you to not jump to embrace her.

Not that Astarion would let you out of his arms to do so. Fear spreads through your body, numbing your limbs and clouding your thoughts. For every outburst, act of defiance, misbehavior, denial of compliance, Astarion will ensure your sister suffers in your place...

"There you are, my treasure..." He cooes, catching a loose lock of your hair and twirling it in his fingers, pleased with whatever he sees in your eyes, "learning already... you're going to be so wonderfully obedient for me, aren't you?"

You turn your head away, down at the bed, never feeling so... small in your life. He grabs your face, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your attention back to him, denying your escape. "Aren't you?" He repeats, voice firm, commanding.

Without thinking, you scowl at Astarion, noticing the frosty disappointment in his eyes. He lets out an impatient sigh, as if handling a temperamental child, and then glances behind him. "On your knees, darling, it seems your little sister needs your example already..."

She stiffly collapses to the ground like an anchor to the seafloor and Astarion groans, as if he expected a more graceful motion from her. He starts to rise from the bed and a whimper from your sister has you catching his sleeve. "I'll do it." You force out, inwardly cringing at the implication.

But that's not enough for him. "You will do what, pet?" He says lowly, lazily turning to you.

"Behave..." The word hung in the air, its bitter taste lingering on your tongue, surpassing any foulness you had ever known. Again, you try to look anywhere else, any semblance of escape you can find from this, from him.

Astarion continues to press, his fingers brushing against your cheek, coaxing you to face him, locking eyes. There was a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes, like a flickering flame. "And...?"

"And... I'll be obedient..." Your chest tightens, your lip quivering and Astarion's face lights up with a tender smile.

He resumes his position on the bed in front of you. "Oh, my love, I know you will." Astarion smirks, his arm curling around you, pulling you back into him, his lips feathering yours, teasing before connecting them in a sweet... loving kiss. Just as you remember it, his lips are like a delicate caress, and you know better now than to pull away.

Your lips sync with his in a hypnotic rhythm, and his distinct taste lingers on your tongue - a blend of red wine with a faint metallic undertone. The scent of him surrounds you, a unique blend of rosemary, bergamot, and brandy, unmistakably his. His fangs only barely graze your bottom lip as he guides you down onto your back, maneuvering himself on top of you, "because I'll have eternity to teach you..." Astarion whispers against your mouth like a promise, and you can feel him smile at his own words.

Astarion's lips travel from the corner of your mouth, they leave a trail of soft kisses along your cheek, descending to the spot beneath your ear, until they eventually reach the pulsating artery, echoing the frantic pace of your heart. One last time... "My beloved consort..." He whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your skin, teasing his fangs against your neck, as if trying to be gentle in his own way. "Welcome home..." He purrs.

Then at last, he sinks his fangs deep. Drinking slow, steady gulps. One hand taking yours, interlocking his fingers with it, the other soothingly petting your hair. And at last, as your vision blurs and darkens, your body shivering under his, you start to believe it...

Maybe he does want you after all...

Maybe he's been your home all along...

ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A/N: Honestly, I could probably write this one forever, it was so much fun. The perfectionist in me already spent more time than I should've on this. Two days of neglecting my main fic on ao3? Ugh, take me to the gallows. Apologies to my partner, friends, coworkers, family, dogs... I have a sacred duty to update that sucker at least every other week.

Also, I apologize for the quality of the gif. I make a lot of my own gifs and screenshots for these and tumblr's 10mb limit is going to throttle my sanity until it dies twice over.

[aurumacadicus]

82 for a number

"Tony," Steve sighed, trudging after Tony as he stormed into their bedroom.

"I don't want to talk to you, traitor," Tony snapped, stomping over to the bed. He knelt down to grab out one of his suitcases, then stood again, throwing it onto the bed with jerky movements.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest with another sigh. When Tony ignored him, he leaned his shoulder against the doorway and watched as Tony stalked over to the dresser like a cat with wounded pride. "Would you feel better if I apologized?"

"No," Tony answered immediately. He opened a drawer seemingly at random and began pulling out handfuls of clothing. "It was my fault for thinking that you might care."

"Okay," Steve muttered to himself, standing up straight again. He moved into the room carefully as Tony walked over to stuff his handfuls into the suitcase, because Tony could simply turn and fling it all at him. Luckily, Tony seemed too consumed by his offense to notice. He pulled out the wads of clothes as Tony swiveled to go grab something else, turning to walk over to the dresser and put it back in the drawer.

"I just can't believe!" Tony exclaimed, grabbing shirts from hangers at random. He turned to stomp back over to the suitcase and fling them in. "Loki cursed me and you don't even care!"

"Of course I care," Steve sighed, walking back to the suitcase to take the shirts back out. He raised an eyebrow when he found most of them were his, then shrugged, turning to walk over to the closet. He considered hanging everything up again, then shrugged, shoving it on a shelf at random. "We all care, Tony."

"Not enough!" Tony barked, moving back toward the dresser. He opened a different drawer and grabbed just as blindly as he had before. "No one cares that I'm benched, that I have morning sickness, that I--"

"We all care, Tony," Steve repeated sternly.

"The male body was not meant for carrying a baby!" Tony exclaimed, flinging his handfuls into the suitcase. He let out a snarl when Steve came and grabbed the clothes back out. "I am not overreacting!"

Steve did not allow a sigh that time. "I didn't say you were," he answered carefully.

"I'm allowed to be upset!" Tony snapped. "Everything hurts and I'm scared and doctors keep poking me!"

Steve turned to face him, leaning back against the dresser and crossing his arms over his chest again. "I never said you weren't allowed to be upset, either. I know this sucks for you, Tony. I'm the one who rubs your aching feet and back. I'm the one who holds you when you're overwhelmed. And I'm the one who yells at the doctors when they get too interested in poking you. I don't like it when you're upset, sweetheart. What caused this? What can I do to help?"

Tony looked uncertain for a moment. "...Clint ate my last green jello," he finally said, and his face began to crumple. "And now he's going to feel bad. But I don't want him to feel bad. I just want my jello."

"Sweetheart," Steve sighed, rushing toward him to pull him into his arms as Tony began to sniffle. "It's okay. It's fine."

"I hate feeling like this," Tony whimpered into his chest. "It isn't fair."

Steve buried his face in Tony's hair and sighed again, feeling helpless. "Yeah, I know. It isn't fair. Loki was an asshole and you're the one having to suffer for it. I'm sorry."

"Don't tell Clint," Tony whispered.

"I won't," Steve promised, rubbing his hand up and down Tony's back. Once Tony's breath had settled, he leaned back a little, raising an eyebrow. "Where were you going to go, anyway?"

Tony blinked back at him for a moment, considering. Finally, he answered with a simple, "Away."

"Of course," Steve huffed, and while it was a struggle not to roll his eyes, he managed it. The last time he'd rolled his eyes while Tony had still felt vulnerable, Tony had sicced Happy on him in a fit of rage, and Steve had unfortunately learned that Happy carried a special Superhero Specific Taser and he was always one hundred percent on Tony's side. "Well. Let's get this suitcase put away, and JARVIS can order some more green jello, and--"

"And peanuts," Tony added.

"And peanuts," Steve agreed. "And I'll rub your feet until it arrives. Okay? I'm here to help you solve your problems."

"Kill Loki," Tony said. "It would solve a lot of problems."

Steve huffed, face going sour. "I've tried. Thor won't let me."

Tony jerked his head back to stare up at him, shocked. Finally, though, a slightly hysterical laugh tore out of his throat, and Steve leaned down to press a kiss to his smiling mouth before he could somehow find a way to be sad again.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Five times the Witchers learnt just how cat-like Aiden actually is

Biscuit making - Lambert

Lambert stared down at his friend, eyebrows raised in silent question as Aiden dozed lightly, plastered to Lambert so they were snuggled chest to chest in the small inn bed. He'd gotten used to Aiden purring in his sleep when the Cat witcher felt safe (and Lambert tried not to linger too long on how that made him feel) long ago but this…this was new.

The hands resting on Lambert's chest were rhythmically gripping and releasing the material of his shirt in tandem, the pinprick scratch of long, tougher than average fingernails just enough to feel through the fabric. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, in fact once he got used to it, when paired with the soft, barely audible purr it was actually quite relaxing.

Soon enough, Lambert found himself being pulled into sleep, either not caring or not realising that he himself had started letting out a steady stream of content rumbling of his own in response.

"Question for you, Cat."

Aiden didn't pause in lacing up his boots, "Ask away, Wolf."

"You know you were-" he clenched his fingers in imitation of the gesture, "I don't know - kneading - me last night?"

At that, Aiden did pause and Lambert had the feeling if he could blush he'd be bright red.

"I..shit. Sorry, I didn't even realise. I usually only do that around my siblings. I'll try to control it better."

"Didn't say it was a bad thing. " Lambert bumped his shoulder lightly against Aiden's, "I was just curious is all. I don't give a shit what you do, short of stabbing me."

Lambert tried to ignore the warmth blooming in his chest as Aiden let out a tiny purr.

Jumpscare - Eskel

Eskel hummed to himself as he bought in the last of the vegetables from the greenhouses for pickling. Glad to see that Aiden was already in the kitchen setting everything up and was currently busy with a keg of brine. Things had been a bit tense to start with when his little brother had rolled up with a Cat of all people but Aiden had made it very hard to not like him. If nothing else, he was always more than willing to lend a hand with chores - always a bonus when your home was in a near constant state of disrepair.

"Alright." Eskel said, dumping one of the sacks out onto the stone countertop, "That's the last of this year's crop. If we work quickly we should be done by-"

He was interrupted by a yowl next to him and if Aiden was an actual cat, Eskel would be inclined to think somebody had just stepped on his tail. Whirling around he saw no sign of the other Witcher. Until he looked up just in time to see Aiden hauling himself up to fully perch on one of the rafters, glaring at Eskel's haul.

"Eh...Aiden?"

"Get those things away from me." The Cat hissed pointing accusingly.

Now Eskel was even more confused, all that was there was a perfectly innocent pile of….

"You mean these?" He held up one of the cucumbers, causing Aiden to growl low in his throat in response. Eskel hastily dropped it again, "Ok, ok. I'll put these away for now and we can work on the beetroot instead. Ok?"

Aiden nodded but still refused to leave his perch until the offending items had been shoved back into the sack and into a cupboard.

Soundlessly, he grabbed a knife and began to peel and chop the beetroot.

"Cat thing?"

"Cat thing."

Zoomies - Geralt

Geralt couldn't sleep. Again. He was nowhere near desperate enough to go down the Djinn route again but by the Gods it was starting to get annoying. He just wanted one night where his mind wouldn't keep throwing up scenarios where he failed his responsibilities to Ciri, Yen, Jaskier, his brothers…he was just one man for fucks sake.

He decided to go check on the animals, Eskel had mentioned that the fence on one of the goat pens could do with repairs but it was already getting dark by the time he'd noticed. It was on the list for the following morning but his brother would be heartbroken if any of them had gotten loose and hurt in the meantime.

Turns out Geralt wasn't the only one feeling restless. As he entered the courtyard he caught sight of a figure seemingly in the middle of running laps along the wall. Too lithe to be Eskel or Lambert, too tall to be Ciri, it had to be Aiden. Geralt stopped for a second, unsure why until he realised. Aiden was moving fast.. too fast to be running it safely in the dark and frost. Even for a Witcher, that could be a broken leg or concussion at least if he fell.

As if the Gods had been reading his thoughts, Aiden lost his footing and soundlessly tumbled down onto the cobbles of the courtyard, landing in a heap. Only to bounce back up immediately as if nothing had happened and continue running laps at ground level instead.

Geralt felt his brow furrow as he continued watching, what the fuck?

"Couldn't sleep either?"

Aiden had come to a stop in front of him, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and eyes darting around ceaselessly as he almost seemed to be vibrating in his own skin and using all of his self control to stay still and talk.

Geralt hummed in response before gesturing to the wall "You do that often?"

Aiden looked slightly sheepish as if he expected to be reprimanded, "Only a couple of times since I've been here. The mutagens. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to combust there and then if I don't move , for some reason it's worse at night. I think there was something meant to make us nocturnal, at least partially anyway. If I were on the path I'd go hunting or just go run pell mell in the woods for a bit. Doing that on an unfamiliar mountain didn't seem like the smartest thing though. I'm reckless, not suicidal."

Geralt huffed a laugh, "Well, don't let me stop you. Just don't make us find you lying out here with your skull cracked open in the morning."

Aiden gave a mock salute before going to mount the wall again, "Remind me to tell you about Cat Trials. Trust me, a fall from this is nothing. You could always run a couple of laps with me if you want? It's just, you look as if you could use something to tire you out too."

Geralt shrugged. At this point, why the fuck not?

Chirp - Jaskier

"Melitele's tits, it's cold. I mean, it. Is. COLD." Jaskier proclaimed as the two of them closed the door on the snow storm they'd just left, moving to hang his cloak and hood by the fire in the great hall, "I swear, if you and Lambert ever decide you're heading South for the winter I'm coming with you. Geralt can freeze his tits off up here alone, he'll survive. Unlike me. "

Aiden said nothing, although the bard had been around enough Witchers by now to know his companion was probably silently laughing at him as he removed his own cloak. Jaskier tsk'd at the snow clinging to Aiden's hair and moved to brush it out without thinking. The Cat let out a small but clearly audible "mrrrp" and momentarily pushed into the hand before he caught himself. He turned to face Jaskier, who was grinning at him like both Yule and his birthday had come early.

"Oh, well. That is just precious! " He exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly like a small child who's just been shown a magic trick, "Oh my dear, if all Cat Witchers make such adorable noises I may have a new favourite school. Do you all do that or is it just some of you? Purring's a given, every Witcher I've met purrs to some degree or other."

Aiden caught Coen's eye, the other Witcher flashing him a smirk which said 'You're on your own'

"That's it, I've decided! I'm making it my mission this winter to find out just how cat-like you are!"

"Do that and I'll hide your lute up in the rafters." Aiden said with no real heat, the Bard trailing after him asking questions about tables and glassware, distracted (for now) from the coldness of the Keep.

If I fits… - Vesemir

Vesemir basked in the quiet. There were perks to being one of the first ones to wake in the mornings. As much as he loved having his boys back safe and sound for the winter, after months alone the constant noise could become a little overwhelming at times, making these moments of quiet solitude all the more precious.

He made his way to the laundry room with an armful of bedding he'd found which probably hadn't been washed since the previous winter if the stale smell was anything to go by. No matter.

He quirked an eyebrow at the closed laundry hamper. He was certain he'd opened the lid earlier unless old age and senility were finally starting to get to him. Dumping the dirty sheets on the ground to free his hands he lifted the lid again.

And was greeted by Aiden blinking sleepily up at him, disturbed by the sudden brightness. Vesemir briefly took a moment to try and figure out what manner of contortion he'd used to cram himself into a space the boys had struggled to fit in even as adolescents before catching Aiden's eye. The two held eye contact as Aiden tilted his head in silent question, still half asleep. Vesemir wordlessly lowered the lid again in response before walking away shaking his head. It was too early for his boy's antics.

[starlingflight]

Ginniversary Drabble 9

Prompt: B1 - You sort of start to believe anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.

AO3 or read below:

It had been an exceptionally long morning. Not, as Harry would have preferred, because of any threat posed by a dark wizard, but because of the sheer amount of tremendously boring meetings he was expected to attend in his new position as the Deputy Head of the Auror Office. 

His eyes flicked to the clock on the far wall of the stuffy meeting room he'd been sequestered in for the past hour. They were now two minutes over the allotted time to discuss the thrilling topic of the proper layout of risk assessments, and still there was no end in sight. 

Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand. Across the table, Hermione was still scrawling furiously across her parchment; it was almost like being back in History of Magic. 

Except he had never been rescued from History of Magic by a very sheepish looking trainee popping their head into the room and declaring, “sorry to interrupt, Mr Potter, but your wife is here, and she says she needs to speak to you.” 

Hermione looked up sharply from her parchment, throwing him a questioning look across the table. Harry shrugged wordlessly, torn between utter delight at being saved from the drudgery of the meeting by an alternative as pleasant as Ginny, and concern that she'd apparently shown up, unplanned, in the middle of the day. 

He wasted no further time excusing himself from the table and slipping out the door, where he immediately found Ginny awaiting him in the corridor beyond. 

“Sorry,” Jenkins, the trainee, said. “I told her I'd fetch you, but she wouldn't wait at your desk.” 

Ginny shook her head. “And I told you, I'd find him myself, if you'd just tell me where he was.” 

In fairness to Jenkins, he only shrunk slightly under the weight of Ginny's accusatory glare. “I'm sorry, Mrs Potter, but as I said, I can't allow you to go wandering around the Ministry unescorted–” 

“Well, I'm escorted now,” Ginny said sharply. Her hand slipped into Harry's, and he couldn't help but notice it was trembling slightly. “Consider the Ministry safe from the threat of an unsupervised Quidditch player.” 

“Thanks, Jenkins,” Harry said in a slightly more amiable tone. “I've got it from here.” 

A look of relief washed over Jenkins’ round face. He nodded his head sharply in acknowledgement of the dismissal, and then quickly took off down the corridor in the direction of the lifts. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, now able to focus all of his attention on Ginny. Her hand was gripping his tightly, and her foot was tapping impatiently against the polished wood floor. “I think you might have made Jenkins cry.” 

Only one side of her mouth curved into a smile, and even that quickly fell again. “Surely he's got to have more fortitude than that if he wants to be an Auror.” 

“We usually start them off with something a little bit less intimidating than your temper.”

Her laugh was short; Harry suspected she'd given it over reluctantly. “Is there somewhere private nearby?” She asked. “I don't know this floor.” 

They were on one of the lower levels, a rarely visited section of the Ministry that was, in Harry's opinion, a fitting location for the pointless meeting he'd just escaped. 

He could take her back to the Auror Office, it was almost lunchtime; no doubt he'd be able to find a spare meeting room now, but he could feel nervous energy radiating off Ginny in waves, and he doubted she had the patience for the journey. 

Moreover, Harry doubted he had the patience for the journey when every moment he spent in Ginny's mysteriously agitated presence was causing trepidation to rise more strongly within him. 

“Come here,” he said decisively, pulling her a few steps down the hallway until he reached an innocuous wooden door. It opened to reveal a small, tidy broom closet. 

Ginny hesitated for only a moment, casting him a doubtful look, before ultimately stepping inside. Harry followed her in, letting the door fall shut behind them with a soft click. 

“Lumos.” 

The light from his wand cast an ethereal glow over the tiny space, illuminating the stacked boxes of Magical Mess Remover, several ancient sweeping brooms, and Ginny's tense face. 

Her hand tightened in Harry's; she drew a deep breath. “This is really not the appropriate place to tell you this.” 

“Tell me what?” Her nervousness was infectious in the tiny broom cupboard; his stomach began to tie itself in knots. 

“I probably should have thought of some clever way of doing it.” 

His nerves seemed to tense beneath his skin. “Doing what?”

“I was going to tell you at home, but I couldn't wait that long, it was torture–” 

“Gin, you're torturing me.” 

“Right. Sorry.” She slid her free hand into the pocket of her robes with agonising slowness. When she removed it, she held a small glass bottle out to Harry. 

He placed his wand on the stack of Mess Remover boxes, angling the ignited tip at the vial and illuminating the vibrant purple potion within. 

“Purple for positive,” Ginny said, her voice unnaturally high. 

“You're–” Harry didn't manage more than a single word; his mind was reeling, his brain had ceased functioning, and the only thing his instincts told him to do was pull Ginny closer. 

He felt her breathe a sigh of relief against his lips, and then he was kissing her with such ferocity that neither of them could catch their breath. 

The knots in Harry's stomach unwound, replaced by soaring elation that set his head spinning faster, and made clinging onto Ginny even more necessary than it usually was. 

His elbow knocked into the stacked boxes beside him, sending them tumbling. His wand clattered across the floor. 

Ginny broke apart from him. They were both laughing breathlessly. 

“You're happy then?” She asked, her grin visible even in the dimness of the cupboard. 

“Yeah,” Harry tried to frown, but his smile seemed to be permanently fixed to his face. “Did you think I wouldn't be?” 

“I thought you might be a bit anxious,” she admitted, still smiling widely. “It's a bit of a daunting prospect… y'know, raising a child… making sure you don't mess it up.” 

“True,” Harry agreed, though the scope of the task did not seem capable of penetrating his europhoria at the current moment. “But, you see, the thing about being married to Ginny Potter, is you sort of start to believe anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.” 

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Random Hobie Headcanons [Prt.1]

me screaming about Hobie Brown just existing like these are just random headcanons of him doing fuck all and chilling but uuhhh this is also so long i had to split it in two parts so this is part one

chronic hobie brainrot u know how it is _______________________________________________

He's actually a fairly high ranking member of the Society

I like to think that Hobie - like Jessica and Ben - has a high ranking position in the Society

Even though he didn't mean for this to happen

Hobie's really good at working with teams, and persuading people. He's been Spider-man for a while, plus he has unique experience

He broke the barrier that 3 spider-people couldn't - sorry Miles you didn't loosen anything

Hobie would probably just ace every mission. In like record time

Miguel and Lyla watching it go from HQ and Lyla's like 'Oh, he's gooodd.'

The watches get a bug and need an update - but low and behold, Hobie knew about the bug and fixed his watch weeks ago. Chumps.

They need advice in taking down a particular anomally and Hobie is the only one with ideas that work -

And sure he may take the piss out of everyone and walk around HQ like he either owns the place or is about to burn it down but they can't tell him anything

He's just that good

I could see him helping out new trainees (and radicalizing them), checking in on every new recruit to see if they have a place to stay.

And Miguel respects that. Miguel isn't heartless, he cares about the society. And even though Hobie isn't doing it for him he appreciates the work Hobie puts in

Miguel probably knows Hobie is friends with Gwen, and that he was the one who stepped up when Jess wasn't

He loves to read

It just makes sense

With all the knowledge of anarchy and stuff, I assume he kinda has to be

I love the idea of Hobie and worn paper-back books that he reads again and again

All well loved, all second (or third, or fourth-) hand.

I imagine he reads a lot of non-fiction, and his favorite genre is history

He doesn't know why, but his brain loves reading about it and understanding the communities that existed in different times

But there are some fiction favorites he has, The Giver being one of them

He donates all the ones he doesn't absolutely need, leaving a sticky note in the front cover with a comment, same way he left one on Gwen's new watch

Hobie is a minimalist in morals

But not like the 'all white-house' aesthetic, but like the 'choosing to live with and on less to respect yourself, people around you and the world'

Everything he owns is second hand, and he likes finding really old cheap stuff, cause it connects back to the history thing

Every couch he's ever owned he's found on a street curb

He doesn't have much clothes, most of the stuff he does have were gifts, or from bands and shows

Instead, he goes to community swap-meets, and swaps his clothes for new ones every couple of months

He LOVES seeing other people in the punk scene wearing a shirt he'd swapped months ago, knowing it's gotten a second life

Hobie genuinelly tries not to throw things away if he can help it. Not in a hoarders way, but in an environmentally respectful way.

If he doesn't want it, he'll barter it away, or gift it to someone who'd like it, or make something new.

Even if something is broken, he'll try to gift it to someone who can fix it than trash it. He'd rather leave his busted TV at the door of a repair shop than a back-alley dumpster

He's low food-waste too

He's like 'Miguel bruv we don't waste empanadas in this house' and takes them for himself

He tries to finish everything on his plate (past survival tactic), but now he'll save it for later. Hobie be tearing leftovers UP.

He makes the choice to not carry money

Connects to the minimalist thing, also an anti-capitalist thing

Hobie doesn't like carrying money. As a personal thing.

Fuck he look like keeping pictures of the Queen in his pocket - absolutely not.

He barters everything he can - and he's good at it. He has an extensive network in the underground punk scene of London, and everyone helps out everyone

Weirdly enough, I feel like if you were dating him he's always ask for a fiver or ten quid or something because he genuinely doesn't carry money or change but somehow he's carrying a rare swiss army knife from 1935

But on the inverse side, if he ever comes across money for some reason, he'll have you 'hold it' in you wallet (just give it to you)

To him, it doesn't matter. He doesn't want to be attached to it. It's genuinely a moral he tries to live by.

He loves cats

He has a picture of a cat on his nightstand in his intro

I bet he has multiple indoor cats

But I also imagine Hobie being really interested and connected in the street cats in the neighborhood he lives and frequents (bonus point if cats are his special interest!)

He names them and knows their faces. Feeds them and checks up on them, tries to take care of them best he can

The ones who get hurt or a little old or weak become boat-cats, and they come live with him

He'll feed them fish from the river - and they always eat before he eats breakfast

None of them have bells or collars, they're not his pets - they're his little friends

He had 'weird' but practical eating habits

Hobie eats standing up.

He'll open the fridge and eat right there. He'll set the bowl on the table then stand in front the TV eating. He goes to the food court and doesn't sit down, just walks about

He's use to eating on the street, so to him, it's comfortable

He grew up going to Gregg or Tesco and eating outside. Grabbing something from the chip shop and scranning it as fast as he can before the rain starts coming down

He actually likes food, and wish he could get more into it - but fuck, he'll never be like those snobs that eat $500 dollar dishes at shitty restaurants

Small routines

In the morning, he takes the boat to the docks. Brush his teeth and get ready for the day

Next he feeds the cats that stay by the water, eating breakfast and playing records

He doesn't make his bed, but he checks all the parts of the boat's engine, just a good once over, and makes sure everything's running right

And then he HAS to say hi to all the people on the docks who know him - old men who'd been working there for decades, delighted when Hobie offered to help them unionize

He always reads before bed too, or on restless nights, he writes songs - practices new songs.

if you read this far, thanks! let me know if any of this mattered at all or if youre like 'sib what does any of this got to do with anything of importance bye have a good day and/or night

[thatfreakingone]

ˡᵃᵗᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ

Teen!Michael Afton x Teen!Reader

Character ai bot reveal

He snuck his father's new Chevrolet for a late-night date with you 🚗🌙

Warnings: just a small mention of sex, (Michael and the reader are seventeen), (it's an au where the bite had never happened)

࿓ ࿚ Enjoy ֙⋆ ་

revving the engine and speeding up on the empty highway, city lights and billboards pass with a woosh as the rock music blasts through the speakers, vibration causing a white buzzing noise to accompany the howling of wind snuggling through the open windows.

The night was young and so were you; sneaking out of your houses without permission, you must've had a death wish, let alone taking his father's newest car. That perfectly shaped, glossy black automobile. One that turns gazes and makes whistles blow as it passes. His father was rich for sure, but that didn't mean he was allowed to drive one while being a year under legal age.

Nothing could've stopped him from planning this night ever since that very moment you made a comment about his father's sexy choice of car when he pointed to the parked engine in front of his house.

"Oh, so you like it?" was all he said before he was sitting in the same Chevy that got you all excited about, a few days later. No call, no warning. He showed up, throwing tiny rocks that made soft thuds against your bedroom's window. Pretty cliché, but it was worth that expression planting on your face when you saw him leaning to the car's passenger door, twirling the keys on his finger.

Tapping the steering wheel along the beat; he mumbles the lyrics, driving carelessly and giving a playful side-eye once in a while, lips curling up in a small smirk.

With a cigarette hanging from your lips, nicotine clouded in your lungs, and the spring breeze tugging your hair, you sure looked like you were having the time of your life.

Empty streets stretched into limitless roads with no one around to judge his morals, speeding up didn't look like a law to break; as if you both wouldn't get screwed if cops chased after you.

But knowing Michael, he'd go as far as breaking every possible rule just to see that joy and contentment in your face.

"Where you takin' me, Mike?"

You yell over the music, asking for the third time tonight, and every time he shakes head saying the same sentence that, "It ain't no surprise when I tell ya where we off to now, is it sweetcheeks?"

Groaning whether loudly, you roll eyes, playing pretend that his refusal to give a hint about your destination is itching your nerves; while in reality your heart is pumping in your throat, teeth clattering and hands cold from the adrenaline rush that the ride is giving you.

The thought of a possible consequence is horrifying.

Parents finding those stuffed pillows under your blanket faking a sleeping clone, or worse; cops calling them for all the deeds you both committed. Feeling a shiver, you turn to him, frowning in concern. He knew the words before you even tried to spell them.

"Why don't you jus' forget about everything and live this moment with me?"

His hand reached to pinch your cheek, something you often found annoying before suddenly snatching the smoke from your lips. Your lips parting and forming a pout.

Placing it against his mouth, he shoots a wink, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes momentarily, enjoying the burning heat that's spreading through his body.

"Told you gonna take you somewhere, where it's jus' me 'n you against the world,"

Muttering through the exhale of steam, you barely hear his words through the loud music. He smirks to himself, already knowing full damn well that you're gonna love the spot he found recently.

When the lights began to vanish and the bumps and turns of the engine increased, you noticed how far you had come out of the city. Probably a few miles away where it's just pitch black, lightened up weakly by Chevy's headlights.

He turns the volume of the music down, where you can hear the car's wheels struggling up the dirt and rocks, whining about the lack of asphalt before the engine finally comes to a stop. Lights turn off and music cuts short.

The sight ahead was beautiful.

Dancing lights in all shades of color illuminate the night, drowning tall and small buildings that are lined in Irregular patterns, creating the city. Your lives and houses were somewhere down beneath these tall hills, and you finally understood what he meant about "me and you against the world."

Your head turns to catch his gaze already watching yours, pausing in your tracks as your eyes trail over his dark blue orbs shining in the dim light.

"It's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you are."

Your lips curl up in a cheeky smile.

"Wow, you did something actually romantic for once."

Your comment made him look forward with a grin, trying not to ruin the moment with a snarky reply.

"thought about bringing you up here after I found this spot."

His words made you also turn your head to watch the scene.

"Been watching the hill from down there, thinkin' we could like... be the first ones to climb up and see the city from this perspective."

His hands move as he talks, trying to sound thoughtful, and it makes you crack into a snicker.

"in the middle of the night?"

You raise a brow, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Well, that's another story."

He looks back at you with a smirk.

"And what's that story, may I ask?"

You lean closer to him, tilting your head as you await his reply.

His grin widens and he too leans close until the only thing keeping you apart is a few inches distance.

"A story that isn't made yet, unless..."

He reaches to the pocket of his jacket and holds up what makes your mouth drop.

"... you're an actual maniac."

You say, the condom in his hand catching you off guard.

"Well..." he says, his eyes falling over your eyes once more, "better to be safe than sorry."

He bites the corner of his lip, eyes glinting in mischief.

"In your dad's car???"

You ask in disbelief, leaning away in your seat with wide eyes.

He shrugs, sniggering a little as he says his next words.

"Daddy raised no scaredy cat."

His sarcasm was seeping when he said that line, but the giggle he broke into said otherwise.

"Plus, he's busy snoring his ass in sleep to ever notice."

You were in a state of shock and disbelief from his boldness. And he enjoyed the sight of your surprise.

"Now come 'ere!"

He suddenly reaches for you, which earns a set of giggles.

He really had the night planned, that goody ball.

───────────────────

based on my bot in Character ai. You can have a chat and create your own scenario

[muzanswaifu]

I'm Yours (Sneak Peek)

Alpha!Rengoku x Omega!Fem!Reader

SNEAK PEEK

Have a snack my lil babies

Lord knows this fic wont be out for a while though 😭

Warnings: Human Trafficking, hints of sexual slavery, ruts, heats

-

Footsteps echoed in the long corridor, the air thick with scents of need and desperation coming from the frail creatures beyond the doors ahead, causing all but one to grow eager with excitement. Growls and snarls came from behind him, making him all the more hopeful for this to be done with quickly. A firm hand on his shoulder shook him loosely, as if to remind him of what was ahead.

Tengen had been begging him for what seemed like ages to adopt a mate, if not find one. He'd been opposed to it at first, disgusted with the idea of essentially purchasing a human life. HIs mother was an omega after all, he'd seen how she struggled against arrogant alphas during her living years, including his own father. But that wasn't to say he was opposed to mating with one, he just hadn't found the right person yet. There were many wonderful, noble omegas he'd come across through the years, all of them well-mannered and behaved. But the courting system for omegas of high status was a lengthy one. Proposals, dowries, accustoming. Hell, it would be several moons before they would even be permitted to actually mate together. And the only reason Tengen was so avid he finally mate up was to get his rut attended to.

Kyojuro would be honest, his rut wasn't exactly... tame, per say. It seemed each passing triad of months his natural cycle became more unkept, his aggression and instinct going feral as the days closed in. He would feel the hormones in his body change, testosterone pumping through his blood at a dangerous rate while his urges ran rampant. In summary, he would become a complete asshole. He supposed the last straw was his last visit to his dear friend's estate when he'd snapped at his wives to quit badgering him with their stench, that of properly mated omegas that had his alphan brain desperate to find properly available options. Uzui was thoroughly surprised by his sudden tantrum, promptly removing him from his home and commanding that he not come back until he have himself a mate. And some manners.

Another horrid rut and a few pitiful brothel visits later, he was at his friend's doorstep yet again, pleading for assistance, and subsequently ending up here - an omegean market. These markets now-a-days were quite rare and heavily looked down upon, given that most of the product came unwillingly and were sold to less than respectable customers. But surprisingly, some stores still remained intact, preaching honest sales and consenting parties. He doubted both. Yet here he was, wallet in hand, ready to offer a hefty sum for any omega he could half-way tolerate, his mind fogging with the remembrance of the powerful words his friend had muttered closely to get his approval.

"Maybe she'll give you a few pups along the way, right?"

Kyojuro gulped thickly, wiping the sweat from his brow. The thought alone was enough to get his gut swimming with yearn. He'd always, always, known he'd wanted children, a family to come home to and spend the rest of his days with. It seemed like a distant future back then, but now that fantasy seemed to draw closer, so much so that he could taste it. Tengen must've sensed his renewed ambition as he gave a wide smile, leering at the guarding salesman to just open the damn door already. The beta gave him a hesitant nod, looking off to his fellow colleague whose hand gripped the nob.

"Listen up! Once we get you all inside you can finally get a good look at the selection. These are the rules: No touching, no scenting, and definitely no biting. Any breach of these rules will result in an automatic purchase."

A few alphas mumbled their compliance, Rengoku standing firm in front of the entrance, ready to begin. The two betas gave one final glance to each other before throwing open the doors, revealing the overload of sensory details that were kept within.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Soo, funny story, turns out celestial mountains can move? So JC finds BSSR and instead of receiving his brother's core and tragedy ensuing, he gets his core fixed, has an illuminating weekend with his brother's extended family, and maybe comes back with backup.

ao3

Untamed

"All right, you all know your parts," Wei Wuxian said, pacing back and forth in a tight circle. "We've got everything we need for the transfer. We're ready."

"We are exactly as ready as we were the last time you said that," Wen Qing said waspishly. Despite her harsh tone, due was clearly nervous, alternating between fiddling with her tools and fingering the veiled hat Wei Wuxian had given her to hide her true identity - the story Wei Wuxian had spun to throw Jiang Cheng off the scent of what was really going to happen would only work if he sincerely believed that she was the fabled Baoshan Sanren. "He won't know a thing. Stop fretting."

"I'm not fretting -"

"Why isn't he here yet?" Wen Ning wondered. "It's not that long a path up the mountain. Even if he was blindfolded, shouldn't he be here already?"

Wei Wuxian started, then exchanged worried glances with Wen Qing. They hurried to the overlook point of the cliff, but no matter how they looked, they couldn't see a single trace of Jiang Cheng, not even his shadow.

-

"Uuuuuh no you're not," the lady said when Jiang Cheng told her he was Wei Wuxian. "You don't - you don't have the right face for it, okay? Cangse Sanren was a bit more - her face - there was this indefinable sort of - listen, I'm not possessed with an overwhelming desire to smack you right now so you can’t be him."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jiang Cheng found himself having to swallow down a snort of agreement - Wei Wuxian really did have that indefinable sort of quality.

"I could take after my father?" he suggested, though he'd mostly given it up as hopeless already.

Sure enough, the lady let out a bark of laughter - it sounded oddly like a bird's call - and said, "No way. Not that much! Anyway, why does it matter who you are?"

At that point, because Jiang Cheng was exhausted and hurting and blindfolded and still managed to see all his barely-resurrected hopes dying in front of him regardless, he burst into tears.

"Oh no," Baoshan Sanren said, sounding distinctly alarmed in a way that - if Jiang Cheng wasn't currently in the middle of humiliating himself - would have made him laugh because of how similar it was to Wei Wuxian being confronted by an emotion. "No, no, no, don't- please - I hate crying - just tell me what the matter is - someone help he's still crying -"

Eventually Jiang Cheng managed to squeeze the whole stupid story out, aided by the kind hands and helpful (or not so helpful) translations being offered by Baoshan Sanren's disciples.

"You can help him, right?" the littlest one asked, tugging on Jiang Cheng's sleeve defensively. He was twelve or thirteen or something - the others called him Xiao-shidi, so that was either his surname or a nickname - but he was a sweetheart that reminded Jiang Cheng of his sister. "Shifu, you'll help him, won't you?"

"I'm talented but no one can make golden cores out of nothing," Baoshan Sanren protested, but the little Xiao started crying, too. "No! No tears! Stop that -"

"But it's just so sad," he wailed, and then one of the other disciples, a girl who had a manner of speaking that suggested Wei Wuxian only tougher by far, gave a loud and thoughtful sniff.

"Don't you dare," Baoshan Sanren hissed. "Don't give me that, you're not even upset! You don't cry over anything, you little beast. You're just trying to bully your shifu!"

"Is it working?" the girl asked, sounding amused. "I could squeeze out some for the cause."

"It's all right, you don't have to," Jiang Cheng said, hating how his voice was still all watery and breaking even though he was finding this pretty funny. "If there's nothing she can do, there's no point, just leave her alone -"

"That's worse," Baoshan Sanren wailed. "No! Not the self-sacrificing routine!”

It wasn’t a routine!

“That’s the problem! I can handle everything but sincerity - ahhh, I hate this. All right, all right, you win, you brats. I'll fix him."

"But you said -" Jiang Cheng started to say.

"I know what I said," she cut him off, grumbling. "And I can't grow one from nothing. But – and I’m going to tell you in advance, this will be unpleasant – I can go get yours from the moment before you lost it and give it back to you."

"What? How does that work? I don't understand..."

"Time doesn't work right on the mountain. It's always the same time, even when it's not; that's why no one can come back after they've left," the girl said, sounding arrogant and carefree in a most familiar way, and Jiang Cheng's grief-fuzzed brain made a connection there that was so appalling that it couldn't possibly be true. "You up for some pain and agony if it gets you your core back, my friend?"

"Y-yeah? I mean, yes. Anything."

"All right," Baoshan Sanren said. Her raspy voice had turned into even more of a croak: it was like listening to a crow try to speak. Also, Jiang Cheng couldn't see, having not removed the useless blindfold, but he had the strangest feeling that she was smaller than before - he'd already assumed she was a wizened old thing, but for a moment she seemed no larger than a especially plump chicken. "Hold on tight, boy - here we go!"

-

"I greatly appreciate all your efforts on behalf of the Sunshot Campaign," Nie Mingjue said, and Wei Wuxian wondered if his greatest strength as the grand commander of the unified forces of the cultivation world wasn’t his saber or his command but his ability to sound completely sincere. "Murdering Wen-dogs by the score, going after critical targets, providing intelligence, even getting Mistress Wen and her brother to defect...but have you considered giving it a rest?"

Wei Wuxian choked.

It wasn't that he was surprised by the request - he'd heard it whispered for a while that he was doing too much, too fast, too viciously. He'd hunted down Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu and harried them into the Burial Mounds, using the power there to tear them to pieces despite their army - if it hadn't been for Wen Qing helping him, he might have torn himself apart in the process. It wasn't healthy for someone with a golden core to use resentful energy the way he did, she had explained. She at one point told him that she was essentially using a bucket to scoop it out of his meridians like a boat that had taken on water.

Yet he kept using it - hunting squads, battalions of Wen, supporting the other sects from the shadows, months of effort - and never mind the worried expressions on Wen Qing's face, on Wen Ning's face, even Lan Wangji, who had just turned up at their camp one day and refused to leave...no, Wei Wuxian wasn't surprised by the request.

He just hadn't expected it to be phrased like that.

"I can't," he said, recovering a moment later. "As long as there are Wen-dogs out there - from the other side, I mean - the Jiang sect hasn't been avenged."

"I know that," Nie Mingjue said with...admirable restraint, actually. Wei Wuxian cringed a little as he remembered that Nie Mingjue was involved in this war for the purpose of avenging his father's death at Wen Ruohan’s hands. "But that's not your job. It's time to stop playing lone wolf and return to the sect that raised you. If nothing else, Jiang Wanyin could use a right hand man."

Wei Wuxian stared. He'd searched furiously for Jiang Cheng without success, days and nights stretching out endlessly only for hope to fade and be replaced by a frantic need for revenge; it had been that desperation, mixed with guilt over losing her prospective patient, that had convinced Wen Qing to officially defect. And now Nie Mingjue was saying - what? That he, Wei Wuxian, was the one missing in action? 

That he knew where Jiang Cheng was?

"...he's been recruiting to resurrect the Jiang sect for the last month down by Qingjiao. Did you not know?"

Wei Wuxian hadn't. Jiang Cheng was - fine? All right? How could he have gotten to Qingjiao in the state he'd been in?

And...recruiting? How could someone without a golden core recruit? Nie Mingjue didn't seem to know about the loss, or he would have mentioned it, surely - everyone would be talking about it - had Jiang Cheng found some other way? But how? And why hadn't he come to find Wei Wuxian?

Well, in fairness, Wei Wuxian wasn't making himself easy to find, traveling in secret with only his few companions. But still...

"He really does need support," Nie Mingjue said. "He has Mistress Jiang, but she's not the martial type, and that little sworn brother he picked up from who-knows-where might be a brilliant talent and a hero for the ages in the making, but Baoshan Sanren's disciple or not, the kid is still only half-grown -"

"Baoshan Sanren's what?!"

"Jiang Wanyin's little sworn brother. His name is Xiao Xingchen, and he's twelve. Maybe fourteen. Far too young, in my opinion -"

"I'm sorry," Wei Wuxian interrupted. "I have to go now. Right now."

-

"About time you showed up," Jiang Cheng said, though his snide words were belied by the wide grin on his face and the way he pulled Wei Wuxian into a fierce hug. "I heard you've been doing wonders in the three months and a day I was gone, and in the month since I’ve been back...you got those Wen to defect, invented a new type of cultivation...what's this I hear about you and Lan Wangji sharing a camp, huh? I thought he hated you."

"Uh, no, turns out that was a misunderstanding," Wei Wuxian - who was currently sharing a lot more than a camp with Lan Wangji once that misunderstanding had been cleared up after Wen Qing had lost patience with what she termed their 'ridiculous mutual pining' - said blankly. It was probably just his imagination, but he fancied that he could feel the golden core under Jiang Cheng's skin, shining bright, as familiar as his own. If he hadn't known what he knew, he would never have thought... "What happened? How did you...?"

"Baoshan Sanren fixed it! Just like you said...though you went to such lengths, with the blindfold and pretending to be you and all that. Apparently it wasn’t necessary at all!"

"Uh, right. My…mistake."

Jiang Cheng pulled him into another hug, nice and tight, and whispered into his ear, "You had better not have been planning to transfer me yours, you bastard."

Wei Wuxian blanched. How had he figured it out..?

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Jiang Cheng said, releasing him and rolling his eyes. "You're a lot like your mother, you know?"

"My mother? What are you talking about?"

Jiang Cheng's crooked grin was the most wonderful thing Wei Wuxian had ever seen. 

"It's a long story," he said. "Probably as long as yours, for explaining everything you've been up to for the past few months...but we'll have time to talk it over. Baoshan Sanren is big fan of talking things over, almost to the point of ridiculousness, but I think she has a point, even if none of her disciples agree. It's made me feel better these past few months, anyway, talking about what happened, whether with the Wen sect or even just frustrations I had growing up..."

He laughed at Wei Wuxian's dumbfounded expression.

"Like I said," he said. "Long story. Come meet little Xiao, will you? We're going to need to work together and put in all our efforts to keep him out of trouble -"

"He's a brat, then?"

"No, worse: he's an idealist. You'll understand when you meet him."

Wei Wuxian let himself be dragged along by Jiang Cheng's eagerness, and he was about halfway across the new Jiang sect camp before it suddenly struck him that this was really happening. That Jiang Cheng was back, alive and healthy beyond Wei Wuxian's wildest dreams, whole once more in both mind and body - that they were side by side once more, finally back on track to fulfill his childish promise of them being the Twin Heroes to match the Twin Jades - that his lies had somehow transmuted to truth, and it was all resolved without sacrifice...

The first smile in what felt like months stole across Wei Wuxian's face. 

"All right," he said, laughing and slapping Jiang Cheng on the back as hard as he could. "Show me this new little brother of yours - I can't wait to spoil him rotten!"

"Tease him to death, you mean!"

"No, no, I can be good! Wen Qing has this little cousin, an orphan, I've been helping out with him - I have child-rearing skills -"

"I don't believe a word of it. Is it Mistress Wen or Second Master Lan that does all the work?"

"...Wen Ning, mostly, but that's not the point..."

Life, Wei Wuxian thought to himself, was good once more.

[mytheoristavenue]

Your Gareth fic is literally amazing! Well I mean your writing is but anyways! You don’t have to but I was wondering if you could do a pt.2 to lessons (the gareth fic) cause it was just so good and I really need Eddie’s reaction to hearing his cousin is now dating his best friend :-)

I got so many asks for this one so I just had to do it!

ST Gareth Emerson x Reader - Sneaky 🍋

Warnings: Slight smut, NSFW, MDNI, aggression, angst, language

Summary: (Takes place after the events of 'Lessons'.) You and Gareth had begun to date after that date in his garage, and now struggle to keep your hands off each other in front of Eddie.

Gareth glanced at you with a small smile from across the game table, as if you were giving him luck for his dice throw. As the die flung from his hand, the group cheered, recognizing the face it displayed as a twenty. You congratulated him with a nudge of your foot beneath the table, letting your shoe travel up his leg. He never once broke eye contact with you, save for checking his result, and his grin never faltered.

Eddie's eyes narrowed, his left twitching in annoyance. He'd been suspicious of you both for the few weeks that had passed since your drumming lessons. Every time he'd tried to ask one of you, Gareth would laugh it off, as if it were some ridiculous joke, and you'd gag on air, pretending to be revolted by your secret boyfriend.

"Are you kidding, man? Only in my dreams."

"Bleh! Ew, as if! You act like I have no standards at all!"

In reality, you found Gareth anything but repulsive. In fact, you were having trouble being separate from him, even here, sitting opposite form him was hard. Of course, you didn't mind sitting beside Dustin, but you'd much rather be beside the drummer, possibly even close enough to slyly tease him under the table.

After the game had wrapped up, you stretched, rubbing sleep from your eye, before standing up and grabbing your purse. "I'm tired..." you complained with a yawn. You watched as Gareth raised his arm to drape around you, and quickly slipped out of his reach. You both blushed at the close call and he stuck his hands to his sides.

"C'mon, nerd," he chuckled coolly, in an attempt to pass the awkward moment. "I'll drive you home." You nodded, turning to leave with him, only for the strap of your purse to be caught, halting you.

"Not so fast," you cousin chuckled suspiciously. "Wayne wants me to drive you, he made dinner and wants us home ASAP." Eddie smirked, turning to your boyfriend as he let you go. "That means your on babysitting duty, Emerson." Gareth's smile dropped, glancing at the freshman (and middle schooler) beyond his shoulder.

"What?" he protested, thinking up an excuse for why he couldn't take the kids home. "That's bogus and you know it! I can't fit five people in my car, it's not even big enough to fu-!" Suddenly, Gareth's eyes snapped to your wide ones, promptly shutting his mouth. Eddie glared at him accusingly.

"Big enough to what? Fuuuuh?"

The junior's palms began to sweat as he searched the room for a lie. "Fuhhh....Fucking-" he mumbled, trying to buy himself some time. "Fucking get groceries!"

"Groceries?" the DM cocked his brow.

"Yeah." your boyfriend stammered, twiddling with the hem of his flannel. "I can't even go get groceries for me mom, 'cuz the backseat's too small."

"Uh-huh." Eddie nodded, dropping the conversation for now. "Whatever, just take the Sinclairs home and I'll take Wheeler and Henderson."

Gareth sighed, relieved as the tension had faded. You did as well, walking to your cousin's van and hopping into the passenger side.

----

You wiped chicken grease off your lips, setting your napkin down beside your plate, answering your father's question about your last math test. "Yeah, dad, I passed the test." you smirked, eyes wandering to Eddie beside you. "Unlike someone we know."

Your cousin slammed his fists against the table. "Shut the hell up, (Y/N)!" He turned to his uncle, desperately. "Wayne are you just gonna let this little shit talk to me like this?"

The older man let out a tired sigh, simply wanting a peaceful dinner with his kids. "Stop it, both of you." he commanded lowly. "You two can't get along for ten minutes, can you?"

Eddie muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and kicking away from the table. "Can't see how I can get along with someone I can't trust."

"And what is that supposed to mean." Wayne cocked a disrespected brow.

"I just mean that your darling little princess is fucking my friend behind both of our backs and lying about it!" the flunkie snarled at his own outburst, satisfied that you were at last, getting in trouble with your dad.

"(Y/N) Munson..." he muttered quietly. "Are you sneaking around with this boy? In my house?"

You could feel tears well in your eyes, your heart struck with betrayal. "No!" you lied. "Even if I was, why does it matter? Ed brings home three different girls a fucking week!"

"(Y/N), Ed is older than you," Wayne tried to reason. "He's a man, and men have certain needs-"

"And I don't?! And if he's such a fucking man, why can't he either graduate, or just fucking drop out and get a job?" you argued, all of your now standing, and the tension thick as butter.

"Hey, you little bitch, don't fucking talk shit about me like I'm not fucking here!" Eddie defended himself.

"Yes, I know you're here, Ed!" you screamed in his face, ignoring your father trying to pull you apart. "I'm always fucking aware of you being there, because your constantly hovering over me and ruining my life! I couldn't have a boyfriend even if I wanted to because you'd chase him away! You're friends are the only ones I have because everyone at school is fucking scared of you and don't want anything to do with me! Oh, but I forgot, I'm the bitch for stealing your friends, right?!"

There was a beat of silence after your rant, the only sound being your heavy breathing. Tears had long since began streaming down your face and you felt all your pent up aggression coming to a head as you stormed off to your bed room, slamming the door behind you. "I fucking hate this family!"

You flung yourself onto your bed, weeping as it creaked beneath your weight. In truth, you wanted very badly to confess your relationship with Gareth. Eddie trusted him enough, and you're dad would love him if given the chance, and he was so sweet to you. It deeply pained you to have to keep him a secret. You sometimes dreamed of having him over for dinner, or your father taking pictures of you both the night of prom, but those all required your family to be aware of the love you shared. 

Suddenly, your pity party was interrupted by a very soft tapping on your window. You lazily got up, parting the curtains to reveal a mop of chestnut curls and a warm smile. You opened the window, wet eyes widened. “Gareth, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I had to see you.” he answered, his hands perched on the window sill.  

“Are you crazy?” you sneered, worried to be by your still angry family.

“Crazy for you.” he snickered, climbing into your bed room. 

“No, no, no! You can’t be here, it’s too risky!” you exclaimed, trying to hold him back, with little luck. 

“Babe, relax, I’ll be quiet.” he grins, plopping down on your bed, cringing at the racket the springs made beneath him. “Starting now.” Your boyfriend watched you pace back and forth as you stressed, fingers tangled in your hair. As quietly as he could, he stood, stopping your in you tracks, but you failed to look at him. “Hey, are you okay?” Your gaze finally met his and he was enlightened to your bloodshot and glossy eyes, lashes stuck together and cheeks stained with tears. “Holy shit, have you been crying?”

“I got into a fight with Eddie...” you confessed, collapsing against his chest. 

“About me?” he asked knowingly, his heart overtaken by guilt. You hesitantly shook your head, responding without looking back up at him.

“Us. Me, mostly. He told my dad that I was ‘fucking you behind his back’ and he believed him.”

“But...” he began, struggling to find a wording that wouldn’t upset you further. “You are?”

“No,” you whispered sadly. “I’m not. The sex isn’t what I’m scared of them finding out about.” 

“What is it than?” Gareth muttered, his hands rubbing soothing stripes along your spine. 

You finally brought your stare back upwards, and he met you halfway, now both gazing lovingly, if not a tad concerned, into one another’s eyes. “I’m in love with you, Gareth.” You had said it with such certainty that it almost scared him. Throughout the few weeks you’d been together, you’d both always avoided the ‘L’ word, nervous to commit to the relationship too much, only for the initial puppy love to dissolve and leave nothing left. 

Gareth could feel static crawl along his skin and all the blood in his body seemed to congregate behind his face. “W-we agreed not to say that yet.” he mumbled, instantly regretting his reply when he noticed the fat tears bubbling up in your eyes again. 

“Y-yeah, s-sorry. Just forget I said-” you brushed it off, trying to break away from him. 

“But!” he corrected, pulling you back to him. “I-I love you too...” he stuttered, gaze averted. “I-In love, I mean. I-I don’t really know the difference.”

“You really mean that?” you whispered, eyes watering again, but this time from unbridled joy. 

“I do. At least I think I do. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.” he rambled timidly, scratching the back of his neck.

----

You sighed against Gareth’s lips as he softly shoved you against the wall, cursing under his breath when his actions caused a picture to fall down and clatter against the floor. You hushed him, giggling as he claimed your lips again, strong hands cradling your delicate face as if it’d break if he let go. “Fuck, I’m so lucky to have you.” he breathed against your throat as he laid kisses across it. “So pretty, so loving.”

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he made quick work of finding your most sensitive spots, having mapped you out perfectly in the handful of times you’d been intimate. “Gareth...” you whispered, tangling your dainty fingers into his curls, fertilizing a growth in his jeans with the tugging of his locks. 

“Love it when you pull my hair.” he groaned quietly. “Better stop unless you want me to really get rough.” You gave him a submissive smile, yanking harshly at the back of his scalp, earning a shuddering whine from him. He playfully glared at you, gripping you by the hips and hoisting you up. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now!”

----

Beyond the safety of your room, Eddie and Wayne still sat at the table, having still not moved from your outburst earlier. “Son,” the older man began. “I know you haven’t had the easiest life, especially with everything that’s happened this year.” His voice trailed off as his gaze wandered over to his nephew, who stared absently at the ruminants of his cousin’s plate. “But neither has (Y/N). That little girl looks up to you, ya know.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “And I’m trying to protect her-”

“That ain’t what I said.” his uncle interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “She don’t need your protection all the time, though. Sometimes, she just needs you to support her, be nice to her.” he lectured quietly. “I had to learn that the hard way.”

“It’s just so hard when she keeps shit from me, ya know?” Eddie argued, running his frustrated fingers though his long chocolate curls. Wayne nodded, standing up and walking to the fridge to rummage though it. 

He found a pair of beers, and set one down in front of Eddie, who immediately cracked it open. “Maybe she’s worried to disappoint you?”

You cousin rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Doubt that, she’s never been afraid to get on my last nerve.”

Wayne finally sighed, glugging a good portion of his beer before responding. “I won’t force you to apologize, but I think she’d appreciate it.” With that, he stood, a few of his joints cracking with age as he did. “I’m headed to bed, if you need me, holler.” As the old man shut his bedroom door behind him, Eddie was left alone under the soft yellow glow of the over head light, staring at your left overs. He sighed, standing up to clear the table. 

He pondered what his uncle had said, coming to the decision that it was a good idea to apologize. He recalled fond memories of your shared childhood as he scraped leftovers into plastic bowls to save for tomorrow. He chuckled to himself at a particular instance that had occurred when he was eight and you were five. 

----

Tears streamed down Eddie’s cheeks as he peeled the left leg of his jeans, blood of a skinned knee sticking the denim to his opened wound. He cried out for an adult, covered in mud and pitiful, having slipped in a creek near your home. Instead, you came running to his side from over the hill, soft, thin hair and ruffled dress flopping about as you did. You sat beside him, taking a pair of scissors to put his pants into shorts, before pouring water from a bottle to wash away the dirt from the muscle. He watched as you dirtied your dress, using it to dry his injury, before wrapping it in a cool, clean roll of gauze. 

After playing doctor, you helped your cousin hobble back up the hill into your house. Once inside, you turned on the tv and asked him to put your favorite movie into the VHS, as you didn’t know how. While he was distracted, you ran to the kitchen and retrieved a bag of pecan sandies, before pouring them out onto a plate, complete with a glass of milk to share. When you returned, the pair of you sat and watched the entirety of the tape, consuming the snack whole. 

----

From that moment on, the pair of you had always bonded over pecan sandies and milk. It was your tradition. You did it when your mother left, and when Eddie lost his parents, and when you got stood up at your middle school dance, and the first (and second) time that he flunked graduation. Most recently, you shared a plate when Eddie came home from the hospital after the ‘Earthquake’, and he was repeatedly awoken by nightmares of Chrissy dying in your living room.  He thought of all the times you’d been his backbone, even being his kid sister cousin as his eyes wandered to a bag of cookies in the open cabinet. You’d be eating pecan sandies over this argument, he decided. Maybe if he offered you this kindness, you’d open up to him with the truth about your feelings for Gareth?

Speaking of Gareth-

----

“Oh, fuck, Gareth,” you breathed, your head falling against the wall with a quiet thud as your secret boyfriend fucked into you, sandwiching you between himself and the wall opposite of your bedroom door. “I-I love you.”

“Love you too, princess.” he replied, breathlessly and muffled, red flannel between his teeth in order to keep him quiet. “So fucking pretty, gonna make me cum.”

Eddie smiled, filling with hope. Cookies, and large glass of milk in hand, he made his way to your bedroom door, knocking on hit loudly, calling out. “Hey, uh, (Y/N)...Can we talk?”

You and your boyfriend parted like oil and water, desperately trying to make yourselves decent as your cousin knocked again. “Shit, shit, shit!” Gareth whispered, and you shared his sentiment.

“C’mon, (Y/N), I know your not asleep.” your kin begged, twisting the nob slowly and pushing your door open. You , as well as the intruder in your room both held your breath, several feet apart, hair tousled, faces red and sweaty, and clothes disheveled. To top it off, your room reeked of sex. “I brought you some...cookies.” The sound of ceramic shattering against the ground rang out through the trailer, deafeningly loud as your cousin stood in your now open doorway. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

[11queensupreme11]

Queen how does it feel to be a genius?

Girl, I'm here, reading and being so 😈

(Queen, I almost made this anonymous cause... I'm really horny? And I didn't know!?)

Cause you know I'm a Poseidon's bitch but also uncle Hades you're doing a pretty good job with my girl you the reason she forgets about blondes

Like, having sex (that was sex, no matter if you say it wasn't) without penetration cause he knows he'd keep doing it, no matter what the consequences are?

*horny grip*

(Hades, making Percy cum with his finger the moment Poseidon enters... He doesn't stop and Percy is just squirting while telling Poseidon to not see...)

My girl would be having the time of her life with them, good for her

Now, in my mind, Hades makes a party and invites Poseidon, just to have his child distracting him meanwhile he's licking Percy in the other room

Now, Percy sleeping in Poseidon and Hades tits? Girl, leave some for the rest

Also, is the knowledge SHE IS STILL WET WHILE HER FATHER TAKES HER TO HOME

Percy just prays that nothing comes down her cause she doesn't have panty (cue to Hades masturbating to them) and Poseidon being 🤨 cause he knows his brother's niece kink but like, he wouldn't dare... Right?

Now, if I was writing fanfiction about your fic? Poseidon would sit her down on his dick and "teach" her about being pure and not letting lost herself to lust

Poor Percy ends trembling and crying to the end of it

But I'm not (?) So I'm just giggling at your work and encouraging Poseidon to make SOMETHING!

I knew it was going to be good, but no do good, you throw me back to my Wattpad era

Also, Loki panicking cause he lost her and what if she ends up participating in the orgy? That would be karma right there

Loki: fortunately, you didn't do anything that day, right?:D

Percy: haha yes nothing happens... At the party

Loki: why are you so specific?🤨

Now I'm wondering how they are going to be? He's a crazy bitch, and we know he doesn't care about her opinion, so I'm picturing him fighting her and kissing her until she really wants something

But also, right now he's in the friendzone™ (a Chad somewhere had a chill), he's her best friend (kinda)

He could enter to her changing her clothes and just found that she's pissed about him no knocking (like her asking if he saw her piss? Girl, your priorities are kinda a mess, kick him out and then ask) he needs to fight for her to see him something different

(Thor is laughing internally cause it is karma)

The fight scene was so funny, Percy really said: you look like shit, let me treat you like one

Loki's crush on her cause she is just as chaotic as him, her just has the world around her finger and isn't afraid of using it

I heard him fall when she was "I know how to count :D" he was loving her gremlin era

I love all the yandere but Loki is dear to me (never as dear as Poseidon but close) cause he's so funny and just makes Percy to be herself again and loving it

Queen, loving your work as always thanks so much for the update and remember we love Nico :D

YEAH HADES WAS DOING ALL THAT HE COULD TO HOLD HIMSELF BACK CUZ HE KNEW THE SECOND HIS DICK GOES IN HER, HE'S GONNA LOSE IT 🥵

also.... i can see how much you like loki from this ask..... unfortunately, there's something you need to be warned about: loki is not what he seems so be careful 😔😔😔

[mediocreanomaly]

Heya! Same patchwork anon here >:]

Im so glad you like the idea! And id definitely see Vash being so protective of it, but sir we need to clean that omg 😩

But i did wanna shoot another reply cause i had another thought (Its 3am, so its the perfect time for thoughts) but imagine instead of white solid thread for Nai's janky ass milk puzzle blanket, its instead stitched with colored thread to at least give it some more life :0

I do like the idea that Nai just keeps it hidden, but imagine Nai's mate finding it and wanting to improve on it more, so little by little theyve been hand-embroiddering stuff on each patch to give it more life, and Nai doesnt notice cause he doesnt really lay it out often, and one day he just has this urge to look at it again, maybe give it a chance and add it to the nest, afterall its the thought that counts right? but then he spreads it out and sees the different embroiderry, like hearts or flowers that Nai's mate saw in books~ Theres even an ongoing embroiderry that makes it clear that his mate has been stitching this behind his back lol

(okay thats all sorry for the ramble im just so weak for them huhu)

Authors Note: Oh my gosh??? I'm so sorry for being away everyone work is busy busy busy rn, gotta serve up some of my drafts fr...anyways! Patchwork anon strikes again! You know nesting hc's are my weakness I had to indulge, R.I.P. Knives milk puzzle.

In reference to both of these post: Nesting Hc's, Patchwork Anon

A Blanket of Many Colors, Knives x Reader

You run your fingers over the blanket you had gifted Nai, the patchwork of white making the blanket look more like a haphazard ghost costume rather than a gift you'd painstakingly sown together. You sigh, you didn't really blame Nai for hiding it away in fact you'd been a be relived when you found out your mate kept the scraggly piece of fabric at all. While the vision had been there the end result had ended up lack luster at best.

You groan, about to tuck it back away in its hiding spot for good when you pause over one of the squares. Although by itself it wasn't much...it'd be the perfect base for something else. You think of what you could fill the tiles with, you had more than enough colored thread to add a bit of life to it, you mull over a couple options before remembering the book of flowers Nai had shown you once, his expression had soften as he explained the differences between each species. Inspired, you quickly grab the blanket and march over to the large bookcase in the corner of Nai's room, running your fingers over the spines of the books trying to find the correct one.

"c'mon...it's gotta be here somewh- ah!" you say triumphantly, pulling out the book containing pictures hundreds of different flowers. You'd been amazed when Nai first showed you, plants like this didn't bloom on Gunsmoke, so the idea of their soft petals were all you had to go off of. You quickly flip through the book picking out one of the flowers and grab some red thread and a needle, ready to go to work.

Some where along the way this little practice had become routine for you. Every time Nai was away or you were bored you'd sneak over to the cabinet your mate had stored the blanket and add a small embroidery. Adding a different flower every time until the blanket was becoming a colorful tapestry of your own making. You weren't sure if Nai even knew what you were doing, if he did he didn't say anything about it. So you continued the harmless pass time figuring he had just forgotten about the gift to collect dust.

He hadn't. Nai was, admittedly, particular when it came to his nest and he knew it. He'd mull over the sheets over and over making sure they were the same shade of white and that they were both soft and large enough. When you had presented him with the hand made blanket...it wasn't that he didn't apricate a gift from his beloved mate, it's just that he cringed internally anytime he thought about it in his nest. He couldn't bring himself to throw away something made by your hands though, so he had stored it away for safe keeping, not wanting anyone else to get their filthy hands on something made specifically for him.

It wasn't until a couple months and one tedious day later that he found himself marching towards his quarters. His instincts where screaming to wind down and drag you into the nest with him but you were out in Ja'Lai, escorted by Legato. He huffs, thinking of grabbing some of your clothes to add to the nest for your scent but then grimaces at the idea of all that disorganized fabric against the white sheets and pillows. He pauses looking at the cabinet that contained the gift you had made all that time ago. Although he still bristles slightly at the idea of it sprawled out in his nest...maybe it's the thought that counts? No. Absolutely not. But he could at least drag it out for a little while, maybe it wasn't as bad as he remembered.

Nai opens the cabinet and reaches in for the blanket but when he pulls it out...his eyes go wide. He holds it up so that he had a better view of what he's seeing, flowers he had only seen as a child blossom against the white fabric painting a scene of an intricate garden that only his memories and dreams could recreate. Had his mate been doing this the whole time? He tilts his head and gently traces the patters of the petals and whining stems that adorns the blanket now, then...he glances up towards his nest.

"Nai? You you here?" you call walking towards your shared room. The others had informed you of your mates arrival while you were out in town and you were eager to welcome him with open arms. You pad in, cold floor beneath you feet. He must be curled up in the nest it's where he liked to recharge after being gone. You walk towards the bed where you know a heap of white blankets and pillows is waiting as you quietly peek in the room. Your mate is in the nest alright, but...instead of the usual stark white, a myriad of color litters the top. Your blanket, you realize, is now the main center piece of the nest, curled securely around your sleeping mate as he purrs in his sleep, plant marking glowing softly. It seems...he liked the gift after all.