#gif making is time consuming and a lot of us really don't like it when our stuff gets reposted

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[astrosamara]

Astrology Observations #4

🩵Sun in 8th & 12th house are incredibly talented individuals with unique gifts to share with the world, but a lot of the time this potential is unseen to them and they can struggle a lot with their purpose. These people can also attract a lot of jealousy from people who don't want to see them win in life.

🩵So many Pisces suns I know radiate this effortlessly cool vibe and people naturally want to be around them. Unfortunately for Pisces, their energy gets depleted around people quickly and they require a lot of alone time or their vibe can turn sour fast.

🩵Earth suns, especially Capricorns, unfairly get labeled as being too boring and practical. These people can make great friends who are grounded and reliable though. This energy gets taken for granted in friendships I feel like.

🩵You might find yourself frequently getting crushes on people with their sun or moon in your 5th and 7th houses.

🩵Moon in 6th house are more sensitive than others to their environment and daily routines. They can struggle feeling grounded in their emotions, since their environment is so strongly connected to their inner world.

🩵Saturn in 1st can be insanely critical over their physical appearance. They might not take pictures of themselves very often, but when they do, they can obsess over how they look in them. I have this placement and I don't have that many pictures of myself when I was a teenager because I hated getting my picture taken. My entire day would be ruined if I saw a bad picture of myself.

🩵Venus in 1st is a placement I've always been jealous of, they just radiate feminine beauty and can have a strong interest and understanding of fashion. I've also noticed that there can be something unique about their beauty that really makes people notice them.

🩵Scorpio Venus can struggle a lot with limerence. They frequently mistake obsession for love. They might not even be interested in someone unless they feel like they're obsessed with them. Crushes in general can feel all consuming for them.

🩵Scorpio's are also great at hiding things from people and will only show a side of themselves that they want to portray. They understand the importance of keeping things private and will truly take their secrets to the grave.

🩵Pisces mercuries will blurt out the most random things in a group conversation that will leave everyone speechless and confused. I swear their minds are just tapped into a different dimension lol. Also incredibly funny.

🩵If you have any planets conjunct your chiron, there can be a great source of pain within the themes of this planet, but if you focus on healing this energy it can become a great source of power for you. I have chiron conjunct my mercury and I grew up extremely shy and afraid to use my voice. Now, I've found that journaling and writing about my pain has become incredibly therapeutic for me and it's strengthened my ability to communicate about my emotions.

🩵Mars in 6th house tend to be really passionate about trying to maintain a healthy lifestyle. They feel great when they prioritize their health and when they follow a schedule. I have this placement in Virgo and I can get so grouchy and irritable if I don't eat well and get some sort of movement in for the day.

🩵North node in 6th house can really struggle with being an active participant in their life. With their south node in the 12th house, they feel most comfortable observing other people's lives and blending into the background. Learning to embrace the spotlight and be seen by others will be very important for them in being on the right path.

🩵Sun in 1st house people can literally or metaphorically have a shine or glow to them. They radiate this light, warm, welcoming energy that makes people just want to look at them and be around them. Also, natural entertainers. They're meant for the spotlight in some way or another.

🩵Mars in 3rd house are constantly traveling and seeking adventure. They're always down to try new things or go somewhere new. I have a friend with this placement that is seemingly always traveling, in a new place, or trying a new hobby every time I talk to them. They don't like being stagnant.

[mnnuni]

Domestic

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean's perspective of Sam and Reader's relationship; Sam and Reader are two cutie patooties Words: 1450 Warnings: none, very fluffy Author's note: I actually don't know if I love this or I hate it

A solid faithful relationship into the hunters' field was almost rare: if they were married they were either consummed for loss or full of affairs and if they had boyfriends or girlfriends they will fight for the distance or the different visions of life. And then there was the rarity, the true love cases, the one in which they would share their life of hunters as easily as a piece of bread.

Dean Winchester never really believed in those rareness, never really believed in love in general... that was untill he really saw Sam and (Y/N) together.

Their love started slowly, it was one of that things that people would say "we already knew" when they eventually announced their relationship.

Dean was convinced that Sam's heart decided from the very beginning of their story that he would beat out of his ribcage only for her in his entire life; Dean saw it in the way Sam didn't just pass (Y/N) the milk and sugar for her coffee for her second cup of that day on their first case together, but he put them in her mug while she read out loud some articles for Dean. Sam didn't put much thougth in that action, but when she realized (Y/N) blushed because he remebred the exact order and amount of products she used after only one time.

But Dean also knew that he approved of their relationship when it was him that proposed to Sam to pick the impala and take (Y/N) somewhere special, just because she deserved all the effort his brother could put in a date and even more. Sam wasn't so surprised about that because he also saw how Dean had grown fond of (Y/N), to the point she was the only girl ever that didn't receive the "hurt my brother and I will end you" speech but it was the other way around.

When (Y/N) confined in Dean one night he really wasn't expecting what she was telling him, after more than an year of being officially with Sam.

"I know he loves me" that was her premise, and Dean could have screamed "WE ALL KNOW" but he let her keep going "but sometimes i whish things were easier" at this the Whinchester quirked an eyebrow and Y/N started rumbling then "I'm not saying it isn't easy with Sam, I just want to say that ... there's never a period of peace in our kind of lifes and we all accepted this when we decided to be hunters, but sometimes I find myself of dreaming one night together without running from something or cleaning up eachother scars... I need normality"

Dean knew that this was also Sam's dream, his little brother wanted this since Stanford, but he also knew that both of them needed to hunt because that was what gave them the hope to make the world a better place and the adrenaline that every man and every woman would need to go throu life.

After this conversation with (Y/N), Dean almost ran to Sam to order him to organize something special for his lady; he wasn't surprised to find him already writing a list of things he wanted to do with her, "I know I didn't give her the right amount of attention these past weeks, shoul I go for a picnic or romantic restaurant?". Dean tried not to smile at his answer, even if he really admired how Sam could know how his girlfriend felt withouth even say anithing and his commitment to their relationship; "The picnic is cute, but not for this time of the year. No reastaurant. She needs something calm, be domestic dude"

He left him like this to think of something, he was sure his brother would have find the right thing.

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

The next day Sam was adjusting one of the bunker's biggest room, he bought a projector and a too big amount of movies -even if he thought that he could never do too much for (Y/N)-

He asked Dean to help him put her favorite couch in there and order a lot of her favourite snacks.

Dean was really proud of how Sam behaved with (Y/N) and for (Y/N), never saw him so whipped for no-one.

When (Y/N) got out of her shower, she was ready to jump into Sam's bed and sleep for two days if she could; instead she found Dean in the kitchen with a blindfold in his hands, "I promise, you will lovee what you'll see after this" he winked and then put it on her face.

"I swear to God Dean, if you're tricking me..." they were walking a pat she never did in the bunker "oh please you love me too" "if you think so...", Dean stopped her in front of a purple metal door and took the blindfold off "oh i know so" he whispered and then proceeded to walk away from there.

(Y/N) was left to wonder what the hell was going on when Sam opened said door and smiled "Hi", it had the same emotion he carried during their first date, (Y/N) smiled too and got on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. He grabbed her hand and walked her into the room, she would have cried if she realized sooner everything there was in that room.

"You did all this for me?!"

It was clear in her voice that she was emotional in that moment and Sam hated the fact that she underestimated her value for him, "baby, that's nothing. Perhaps I should have done something sooner when I first started to notice you needed some time alone" "thank you". Sam smiled and gave her a kiss.

When they finally settled onto the couch (Y/N) was analyzing every detail there was in Sam's preparation: he put three blankets on the couch 'cause he knew he was too tall to tall for them both be covered entirely just by one and also added few pillows because (Y/N) loved the fluffy feeling of them while watching a movie; he made a little table with every kind of chips the market sold and four bottles of her favorite soda, on the shelf under it there were two or three packages of cookies too. Sam also organised something like fifteen movies, all divided by genre and number of stars (Y/N) gave them when they first talked about it.

Sam chose the first movie of the night -obviously a musical- and settled next to his girlfriend. She was so fucking happy about all Sam had done for her.

(Y/N) put her head on his chest while Sam's arm was around her shoulders, drawing figures on her arms to make her relax some more.

Dean snuck in after the first two songs of the musical and rested with one shoulder leaned on the doorframe to look at them: they were adorable. At first when they were on their honeymoon phase Dean felt the need to puke every two seconds, but now he loved to look at them from afar and be happy of their happiness

(Y/N) lifted her head to look at Sam: he was so focused on the screen,the lights of the scenes illuminated his face in a way that made his eyes sparkle.

"I love you", she whispered and Sam's face turned instantly. She still blushed when Sam looked at her that way, "and I love you".

Dean didn't see the kiss because he closed the door immediately after his brother said those words, that was another of the things that made Dean root for them: they never said "I love you too", like they had to say it just because or to not be in an embarrassing situation; every time they proclaimed their love for eachother they made sure to let the other know how much they actually loved eachother and how they really believed in what they said with that "I love you".

Sam and (Y/N) watched another movie and a documentary, they finished almost all the chips and sodas. After about the half of the documentary (Y/N) fell asleep snuggled up to Sam, who was massaging her head -he already knew that after one cookie she was about to pass out, so he made sure to get her in the most comfortable position and help with his hands in her hair to allow the sleep to finally set-

Dean never got back in that room, because he knew that they would have fallen asleep eventually. He made himself a burger and drank one too many beers, but it didn't matter because that night Dean too slept so well knowing that his brother and his sister were okay.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Guilt. You can't deny it any longer. Your stomach is chaos. Everything you eat threatens to come back up or churns like cement. 

Something happened. Something you can't remember but you know what it was. Yet it isn't just that mistake that eats away at you. It's the one keeping you awake. The one draining you of energy and money alike. Your marriage. 

Stupid is an understatement. You didn't think any of this through. It's catching up to you. You didn't just fuck around because you’re angry. No, you're unhappy. 

But you did fuck around. For all you can say about Barrett, he didn't do that. It's over but you just don't know how to end it. He doesn't either. 

Tonight? You say that every day but you find an excuse not to do it. You're tired, you have to make dinner, you'll do it tomorrow when he isn't in a mood. 

That night you delay the inevitable with a trip to the pharmacy. You need something for your stomach. Once you get it under control, you'll be able to think. 

You grab the cheapest anti-nauseant on the shelf and read it over. May cause drowsiness. Well, what doesn't make you tired? 

"Got a bug?" The deep timbre scares you for more than its abruptness. It's familiar. Your vision flickers like a strobe light as you look over. 

It's him. Again. Captain America. What are the odds? 

"Ate something, I think," you murmur. 

He watches you. It's like he's waiting for something. You stare back. 

"Anyway..." you glance around him. "Sorry, if I'm in your way." 

You take a step back to clear the view of the shelf. 

"Nah, this stuff doesn't affect me. Can't remember the last time I had a stomach ache," he scoffs and turns. He grips the edge of a shelf as he faces you. "You never texted back." 

You flinch and flutter your lashes. "Texted?" 

He grins and puts his hand across his chest and drags it down. He laughs, "we had a good night, didn't we?" 

"Huh, I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Really, you don't? 'Cause I can hear your heart racing." 

You blink and look around, "really I don't--" 

"I'm sure that works with your husband. You two did look awfully happy at the grocery store. I could see the disgust crawling all over you," he snickers. 

"Excuse me, I don't know you. So please, go away." 

He clucks and stands straight. He drops his arms and frames his hips, "is that how you talk to your Captain? You're not how I remember you. You were a lot... nicer." 

"Shut up. That didn't happen." 

"Keep telling yourself that," he shrugs. 

"I-- I can't remember..." you whisper. Your voice cracks, "please, I don't remember." 

You look up at him with teary eyes. It was him? Of all people you had a drunken one-night stand with Steve Fucking Rogers. This can't be real. 

"I remember," he steps closer. "I can't forget." 

"No, please, I'm married. Alright? It was a mistake. Just a drunken night." 

"Not for me," he insists. His earnestness makes you shudder. 

"Look, I'm flattered but my life is complicated enough  alright? I'm sorry but I'm sure you can find someone else, Cap. Someone who isn't twenty shades of fucked." 

You shake the box of tablets and cringe. You turn and sweep away. You head to the checkout and go to one of the self-service machines. 

He surprises you as he puts his hand on the plastic divider and looms over you. You focus on scanning the pills and paying. 

"Look, Cap, I'm sorry I didn't reply." You slip your card out of your wallet.

"You ran out. I came back to an empty apartment." He juts a leg out as he leans on the divider. 

"Sure, but I woke up in a stranger's bed, all alone. I was a bit freaked out." 

"I went to get breakfast," he says. 

"Did you not notice the ring on my finger?" The machine blares in rejection of your card. You curse under your breath and try again. 

"You didn't seem to," he retorts. 

You swallow as your card is rejected again. You toss the pills on the little ledge next to the till and huff. "It happened and I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye but I got enough going on." 

He sucks in through his nose and lets it out slowly. You turn away and he snarls, "I can hear the other heartbeat too, you know?" 

You stop short. What the fuck is he talking about? You gather what pride you have left and set your chin high. You march out without looking back. 

Other heartbeat? 

The nausea, the exhaustion, the aversion to the candle in your bathroom. No. It makes sense but it can't be true. 

You can't handle anything else. You just can't. You can't afford a pregnancy test, let alone a baby. 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Friday night. l Joel Miller

Summary:  you were friends who met on Friday night

Warnings:  +18, smut, swearing, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sex with protection (good job!), mentioning masturbation

A/N: this has been on my mind for a few days now. it's not perfect, but i hope you like it. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

"So when? Tell me, tell me, tell me."

You looked at Joel sprawled on your couch, his long legs were lying on the coffee table. This Friday night was definitely not supposed to go like this.

After a hard week, you were craving some relaxation. A hot bath, lotion rubbed into your skin, takeout, and some stupid reality show on TV. 

And then he showed up.

Joel Miller showed up at your door, bringing you the food containers you had recently brought him and Sarah dinner in. He had no plans to stop by, in fact Tommy was waiting for him at a bar nearby, but he really didn't feel like going there.

So he stayed. You both ate your Chinese food, sipped cold beer, and watched a show about young and beautiful people trying to date each other. This was your Friday night.

"Y/N, I won't judge you, you know that." Joel continued, digging into the box of food with his chopsticks. "Tell me, when was the last time you had a really good date?"

"A long time ago." You replied, feeling the heat creeping up your neck and chest. "Like... Last year? I mean... I thought it was a good date, but he didn't call after that."

"Really?" Joel looked at you in surprise. "What a fucking idiot!"

"Don't say that, you were part of it." You took a sip of your beer. "I shouldn't have answered your call. You asked me to pick Sarah up from training and sit with her for a while, because you were coming home pretty late."

"Shit!" His brown eyes looked like a scolded puppy. "I'm sorry. But you didn't say anything about me fucking up your date."

You shrugged. "That was a year ago, it's not relevant anymore."

Joel's gaze lingered on you for a moment as he analyzed your words. He never thought that by calling or writing to you, he was intruding on your private life. Or that you had another private life apart from him and Sarah.

You had been friends for a few years. It started with you taking Sarah to her friend's house because he couldn't get away from work. And then everything flew like an avalanche. You always found time for his daughter, and he could always count on your help. Sometimes you brought them dinner, it saved their lives when the projects he was working on completely consumed him.

Joel, however, was not just a taker. Whenever you asked him for help, like when you bought a new dresser or when you had a flat tire in your car - he was the first one at your door.

The fact that you were friends also meant that you gave each other presents for birthdays and holidays. You were good together.

"And you?" your voice tore him away from his thoughts about your date for a moment "When was the last time you did that? Or even better!" a sly smile crept onto your face "When was the last time you slept with a lady?"

Joel cleared his throat. He should have expected that, right?

"Pffff... Ummm... That was a long time ago." he replied, pretending he didn't feel embarrassed at all "You know. I'm a single father, I work a lot..."

"So what?" you wondered "I never thought you were lacking anything. Even more! I think it's a treasure to have a guy who knows how to use a drill. It's quite sexy."

"You think so?" he smiled.

"Sure! If you found a girlfriend, I doubt she'd let me use you like that. Sexy handyman."

"Fuck! Don't make fun of me!"

"I'm not doing that!" you laughed as he threw a pillow at you "You should be at that bar than here with me. You're wasting your potential, Joel."

"I'm where I wanted to be." he replied, reaching for the bottle and taking a few sips. "And you?" you looked up from your fried rice. "When was the last time you slept with someone?"

He immediately noticed that you were embarrassed. It even gave him a little satisfaction.

"I'm sure you've noticed that my love life is a disaster." you replied, trying to smile and seem relaxed. "The only thing that seems to live inside me is my vibrator."

You burst out laughing when those words left your mouth, and Joel chuckled himself.

"Fuck, that's pathetic!" you covered your face with your hands. "What's wrong with us, Joel? We should be fucking some super hot people right now! Any place, in any position!"

"One really nice lady would be enough for me." he put the empty bottle on the table and stretched. "By the way. Last time I was here, I mean when I was fixing your bedroom closet door, I also replaced the batteries in your vibrator. The poor thing was barely breathing."

"Oh! Thank you, I guess..."

"The drawer in the nightstand was ajar." he explained seeing your embarrassment. "I hope you'll think of me when you use it. Fuck, that sounded awful."

"What made you think I'm not doing that yet?"

When his dark eyes landed on you, you tried your best not to burst out laughing. A mixture of emotions and strange thoughts was written all over his face. You were sure that in a little while you'd bite your lip trying to hold back your laughter.

"Shit! We're on some really fucking dangerous ground, babe." He mumbled, shaking his head. "I didn't know you from this side."

"Maybe if you saw me as a woman..." you started, but Joel quickly interrupted you.

"Who else am I supposed to see in you?" he snorted. "I'm afraid that soon you'll run out of things I could fix, and then you'll start taking care of... I don't know, fucking flowers... and I don't know anything about that. You bring dinner to my house, you help me with Sarah..."

"Joel, I think you're doing great with Sarah. She adores you!"

"You know what I mean..." he sighed, scratching his already disheveled hair. "She's a young girl, she needs someone like you around her. But when you finally meet a guy, he's not going to let you spend time with a single father and his teenage daughter, right?"

You put the almost empty box on the coffee table and pulled your legs up onto the couch. You understood what Joel meant. Your friendship was something that required incredibly understanding partners if you wanted it to continue. You probably didn't even think about getting involved with someone else because of this what you both had, because of Joel.

The thought of giving up seeing him, listening to his voice, talking to him or just spending time with him doing such completely ordinary and boring things - God, it was terrifying.

He must have been thinking the same thing, because he suddenly fell silent as if what he had said had taken him out of the conversation.

He hadn't planned on ever telling you what he thought about you, honestly, he was afraid it would make you run away. He couldn't give you much, and he thought that a woman like you deserved everything that was best in the world.

"You know, I don't want you to think that me spending time with you is some form of pity." you began uncertainly, trying to find the right words for what you wanted to say "I really love it. You always make me feel good and in the right place. There's not much more I can do for you."

"You're already doing way too much." Joel's hand stroked your leg in a friendly manner "I guess we both benefit from this, right?"

"I guess so." you replied, smiling "Jesus! This is so awkward!"

"Think about how I feel!" Joel put his arms behind his head and stared at the TV "You have your vibrator, and I have to do it manually!"

You started to giggle, "But you definitely don't think about me then!"

"I don't know what gave you the idea that I don't do it. Fuck, I must have fallen out of practice when it comes to flirting."

"A little." you were still laughing, "But it's sweet, you know. And I'm glad we feel comfortable enough with each other to say things like that."

Joel nodded and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You both focused your gaze on the TV screen again for a moment, but it had been a while since you had watched this show. Every word Joel said was going through your head. You felt several emotions at once, but they were all really nice.

You thought about how good you felt with this guy who treated you really well, even though you weren't in a relationship. At least not a romantic one.

And then the question came that changed everything that evening.

"Have you ever thought that you and I..." his voice was calm, but you knew he was weighing his words before he let them out. "Have you ever thought about what it would be like if we tried?"

"Tried what?" you asked. You had an idea what he meant, but you wanted to know that you were both on the same page.

"Sleep together. I mean, sex." You nodded. "Really? Fuck! I thought there was something wrong with me."

"Why?! Joel, I've always thought you were a handsome guy. And if it makes you feel any better, I've thought about it more than once. I guess that's why you had to change those batteries."

Your laughter filled the room again. If you both felt any unpleasant pressure, then it had definitely dropped to zero. Joel opened his second bottle of beer and took a sip.

"Would you like to have sex with me?"

"Yeah, I would." you replied, completely unfazed.

"Now?"

"Sure."

You had been feeling it for a while now. Excitement was spreading slowly through your body. In your head, although you fought it, all those images of Joel that you had been trying to hide until now appeared. You imagined him in such sinful situations that you were surprised he didn't see it in your eyes.

"I guess you don't have any condoms?" you made a face and he smiled "Okay, I'll go to the store to buy some."

"But let me check something first. If you let me…”

You moved over to him before he could stand up. When your hand touched his cheek, you both smiled nervously. His stubble tickled your hand gently. He didn't lag behind, his hand found its way to your thigh, stroking it gently.

You were the one who kissed him first. It was wonderful to finally feel his lips on yours. You kissed gently, but when you parted your lips a little, Joel took the initiative and slipped his tongue into your mouth. That was it. A shiver ran down your spine. His tongue caressed you as he deepened each kiss, and his hands quickly and efficiently pulled you onto his lap.

You couldn't stop kissing him, and he returned each kiss with such enthusiasm, as if he had been waiting for it for a really long time. You slid your fingers into his hair and tugged lightly, and Joel groaned quietly. The bulge in his jeans was rubbing hard against your thigh.

"Condoms." he panted. "We need... Fuck..."

"Yeah, I know..." your lips collided again. "Go. Now."

With considerable difficulty, you got off his lap. Your heart was beating like crazy.

"Ten minutes." he said, quickly standing and unconsciously adjusting his jeans, which had become a bit tighter, you giggled. "Don't move from here."

"I won't do that."

He leaned in once more, kissing you hard, and quickly left the apartment.

He came back just as he promised. For a split second you saw uncertainty in his eyes, but when he saw you were waiting for him he immediately brightened up.

"No judging." You said, quickly taking off his shirt "I don't look like those sexy girls from tv shows."

"Shut up!" He silenced you with a kiss as his hands ripped off your shorts "You're a thousand times sexier. I'm afraid I'll come before I get inside you."

"I don't care. We have all night, Joel."

The first time you saw him naked, it was better than anything you had imagined. His strong and wide shoulders, narrow waist and soft belly. His manhood was already hard and ready.

"Jesus, have you seen yourself?" His voice tore you from your whirlwind of thoughts "You look like a million dollars."

His eyes, full of admiration, wandered over your body. You suddenly felt a little embarrassed.

"Oh, don't hide it from me." he groaned as you tried to cover your breasts. "It's you. You're fucking perfect."

His large, warm hands cupped your face as he kissed you slowly. You felt the bed behind you and soon you were lying with him on top of you. It was overwhelming, feeling his weight on you as his lips trailed down your neck, to your sternum, kissing your breasts, nibbling on them gently. You moaned as Joel's mouth captured your nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. One of his hands slid between your thighs and soon you felt his fingers running over your already slick folds.

"Is this for me?" he asked, lifting his eyes and looking at you with appreciation.

Heat crept up to your neck and cheeks. His bedroom eyes made your pussy drool at the sight of him. Joel was clearly delighted by this though.

"Let me make you feel good." he purred, kissing your breast a few times, then moving lower. Fuck. You weren't ready for this. A few kisses on your thighs, the feeling of his stubble brushing against your delicate skin, and then a slow lick of your folds. You closed your eyes, feeling as if all your nerves had gone crazy.

His mouth found the bundle of nerves that made your head spin with every movement of his tongue. Two of his fingers slid inside you, stretching your walls pleasantly. It was incredible to feel him. It seemed as if Joel took incredible pleasure in exploring your body and was quickly learning what you liked. His fingers pushed back and forth as he licked and sucked, and you couldn't manage anything but moans.

"Jesus, you're so beautiful right now, baby." he whispered as your body arched as his fingers touched that spot. "I've imagined you like this so many times. Naked, thighs spread, waiting for me."

"Joel... please..."

"I know, I know, baby." he kissed your thigh tenderly "I can feel you're close. You squeeze my fingers so nicely, suck them into you."

His movements became faster and stronger. You clenched your hands on the sheets feeling like you were losing control over your body.

"Let go, Y/N. I'm here, let go."

And you did. You moaned loudly as you reached your peak, and your legs trembled. It was amazing. He was amazing.

Before you could catch your breath Joel was on top of you again, his beard glistening with your juices, but you didn't mind. You put your hand on his neck and pulled him in, kissing him hard. You felt your taste on his lips. Addictive.

"I want to be inside you." he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours "I want it so bad."

"I want it too. I want to feel you, Joel."

He stood up and reached for the foil package, which he opened with his teeth. You watched as he put on a condom and leaned over you again. His tip slid over your entrance a few times before he slid inside you.

The air escaped your lungs as he pushed his entire length into you, stretching your delicate walls. The stretch felt so good. When his cock was inside you all the way to the base, you both froze for a moment.

"Fuck..." Joel whispered, tearing his gaze away from where he disappeared inside you and looking at your face "You're so tight, baby. You wrap me around so well..."

"And you're so big, I was afraid you wouldn't fit." You giggled and soon all the stress drained from you "I don't think I'll last much longer. It's wonderful to feel you."

"Don't worry, sweetie." His lips kissed yours lightly "Like you said, we have all night. Ready?"

You nodded and Joel pushed, going even deeper. His cock would slide out of you, then return with much greater force. You pulled your legs up to give him easier access. Joel found your hands and held them above your head. It gave him full control, and you didn't mind.

"Fuck. I don't know why we waited so long with this..." he gasped as his hips slammed into yours, the dirty sounds filling your ears. "I've been thinking about you for so long."

"Really? I thought... OOHHHH! I thought you only saw me as a friend..."

"Remember when you came to Sarah's soccer game? In those tight shorts? Fuck! I already wanted to drag you to the truck and fuck you hard."

"Jesus!" you bit your lip, Joel hitting exactly where you wanted him to, "When you were helping me with the air conditioning."

"What about that?"

"It must have been a million degrees here. I was melting, and then I saw your shirt lift up, exposing part of your lower back. Damn, I was waiting for you to go away so I could reach for that fucking vibrator."

"Fuck!" Joel hid his face in your hair, "You're going to kill me. Tell me you're close, I can't hold out much longer."

You were already on the edge, his cock pushing in exactly where you needed it. He let go of your hand, gripping your hip tightly. His movements were becoming increasingly erratic and unpredictable.

"Joel, I'm so close... so close..." you moaned.

His mouth unexpectedly captured your nipple, sucking it hard. That was it. A strong shiver ran through your body as the walls of your pussy clenched in a sweet spasm of pleasure flooding your body. Joel was right behind you. He didn't need much. When he felt you tighten around him, he was done. He came with a loud groan, burying his face in your shoulder, digging his fingers into your soft hip.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he breathed out "You're amazing. Just fucking amazing."

"You're not bad either." You laughed quietly, wrapping your arms around him.

He wanted to stay in your arms, but you both knew he had to clean up. Joel lifted himself up and slid out of you, holding the end of the condom carefully, then went to throw it in the trash can in the bathroom.

"You have a really nice butt." You murmured as he laid down next to you again.

"You think so?" He laughed, "I think yours is much better, but thanks."

You lay next to each other, breathing deeply, in a sweet state of total fulfillment and relaxation. It felt nice to have him next to you, within arm's reach, in a more intimate way.

Joel must have been thinking the same thing, because soon his hand found yours in the sheets, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"Did you like it?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Very much. I would gladly repeat it a few more times." you replied smiling widely "And you? What do you think about it?"

"Same here." he replied "But I wouldn't want it to destroy what is between us."

"Joel, I don't expect any declarations from you." you turned around and leaned on your elbow looking at him closely "We feel good together, I like you a lot, I actually have a soft spot for you for a long time. Let's just let it flow, you know. We'll see where it takes us."

"That's probably a good idea." he mumbled, his fingers brushing away strands of your hair "You're beautiful, you know..."

"Those are declarations!" you lightly patted him on the shoulder.

"No. That's a fact, actually."

You smiled, and his heart beat faster for a moment. He already knew he was lost, but he didn't want to say it. Not now, when you said 'no' to all declarations.

"Maybe you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow?" he finally suggested "Sarah's on a school trip. She won't be back until Monday. We could have a nice time. See where it takes us..."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"You know... I'm glad we did it."

"Me too." You leaned in, kissing him lightly on the corner of his mouth "And you know what else I'm happy about?" and seeing his questioning look you added "We still have a few condoms, and the night is still young."

"You're going to kill me, you know that?" Joel burst out laughing.

But his arms were already gathering you to him and you were lying on his chest, you liked this position and you were going to use it well.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[dandelionprints]

Don't Be Late

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N (lil bit of fluff, angst, tormented Tommy and comfort)

Summary: When Tommy makes a promise to his wife he could never imagine that breaking it could potentially cost Y/N her life.

Warnings: bad language, a couple of slur words as used in the show *not words that I myself deem acceptable!*, a lot of violence, mentions of injuries, blood and death. Reader discretion is advised, do not read if you feel uncomfortable with this kind of content

Word Count: This is a long one coming in at 6,800k

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a full blown fic but I was on a roll so I just went with it! I hope you enjoy, please do like, reblog and/or comment your thoughts on it, I really appreciate the feedback x

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"It's been three days, Pol. Why won't she wake up?"

He leant forwards in his chair, a hand gently grasping  Y/N's as she lay motionless on her hospital bed. Her body was battered with violent purple bruises and cuts covering what seemed to be every inch of her body.

The last three days had been hell, with a mixture of so many emotions running through him  that he didn't know where to put and the not knowing. Worry, anger, sadness. Guilt. So much guilt, it consumed him. 

Tommy wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for not being there to protect her. It could be said that it was a case of "wrong person, wrong time", but that did nothing to subside the sense of dread that filled his stomach whenever he thought about the brutality his wife had been through, all because of him. How scared she must have been on her own waiting for him to come and save her, but he came too late.

"Give her time, Tom. She's been through a lot, her body’s trying to heal, we can't rush these things. Besides, the doctor said this morning that the swelling and bleeding has started to go down so she is getting better. Slowly. We just have to be patient", Aunt Polly delicately placed her hand on his shoulder, softly stroking her thumb back and forth over the newly clean shirt. 

Polly had brought a clean set of clothes to the hospital after seeing that Tommy was too terrifed to leave Y/N at the hospital alone for even a second, leaving him wearing blood soaked clothes for the first day. Y/N's blood.

"I should've been there Pol. None of this would've happened if I hadn't gotten too cocky and dragged John and Arthur down to London to Sabini's club. All this for a fucking business expansion"

He lowered his head and brought his free hand to his forehead, pinching at the sides as if to relieve some of the stress growing with tension there.

"Fuck!", he shouted before quickly covering his face with his hand.

Tommy could feel tears springing to his eyes as he glared down between the gaps in his fingers at the speckled hospital floor. He was so tired of crying in the presence of anyone that wasn't Y/N since the night this whole shit show happened, it made him feel weak knowing other people could see that in fact, yes, Tommy Shelby does have emotions. Y/N  was the only one he'd been able to willingly show any kind of vulnerable emotion to since he'd returned from the war.

The sound of a lighter flicking open followed by the quick sizzle of a cigarette being lit came from behind him as Polly took a drag, before holding it within Tommy's line of vision. 

"Here, take this".

He hesitated for a moment, making sure that no tears would fall, then slowly lifted his head and reached for the now softly glowing cigarette bringing it to his lips and taking a long pull, exhaling the smoke as if it were the stress partially releasing from his body.

Aunt Pol watched him carefully, almost as if she were waiting to see if he was going to explode like a ticking time bomb or finally let his shoulders relax and sink into the chair. She was thankful when he chose the latter, slowly leaning back against the wooden frame, still holding onto Y/N's hand.

"You should go back to the house, Tom. Get some rest. I'll stay with her until you come back", she spoke softly, her own eyes tired from the constant secret worrying she'd been doing as well as sitting with Tommy next to Y/N's bed the last three days.

"No. I won't leave her, Pol. I can't leave her, it's my fault she ended up like this, I can't risk them coming back or the risk of her...", he stopped his words in their tracks as a lump formed in his throat. The tears that had only just subsided now came back, threatening to spill over, "Of her dying. Alone. Without me here letting her know she's safe, that I'm sorry. So fucking sorry"

Polly's face grew empathetic as she saw the pain etched all over Tommy's, the vacant glassiness of his eyes that had only grown darker over the past few days.

"She's not going to die..."

"She might, Pol!", his anger exploded then, the ticking time bomb she'd been waiting for had finally gone off.

The chair scraped on the floor as he stood, letting go of Y/N's hand, before turning to face his aunt who remained seated, not taking her eyes off him.

"How can you be so sure that she's gonna live, eh? How can you be so sure that she's ever going to open her eyes again?"

There was less accusation in his words than it seemed, more like a plead for some kind of reassurance or promise that the love of his life would be okay, that she'd return to the real world again.

Polly stood, then, calm and collected. 

"Because I know Y/N Shelby, and so do you. She's a tough girl, it'll take more than Sabini and the fuckers who did this to take her down. Now, go home and get some sleep. I'll stay here with her, give her a wash and read some of your poetry outloud. The nurses say she can still hear what's going on around her, that she may even end up dreaming of things that are being said so we'll be having no more talk of death. John said he'll take the next shift of watching the door so tell him when you get back to come here. You know he won't let those bastards go anywhere near her if they so much as step foot near the hospital"

Polly’s eyes remained on him like a mother scolding her child until they did what they were told. She knew that he was still reluctatant to leave Y/N's bedside but felt relief when he subtly nodded to her, stubbing out his cigarette and picking up his coat before leaning over Y/N to place a kiss on her head, being careful to avoid the purpling bruise that was forming there.

"I'll be back in two hours, Pol, then you can go home and get some sleep", he said simply, making his way over to the door.

"Not two, six. You need a proper sleep"

He narrowed his eyes at her without saying anything, his lips twitching as if ready to disagree with what his aunt had said.

"I'd say eight but I know you won't be able to stay away for that long. What good are you to her if your eyes can't even focus on what the gun is aiming at? Go. Get some sleep"

Three days earlier

They'd agreed that they would meet at 8pm later that evening, after Tommy finished up with business for the day, where the family car was stored in the garage near the Shelby family home.

"Don't keep me waiting too long", she giggled, stroking his face with the palm of her hand.

"Who says you'll be waiting?", he smiled, taking the hand that was on his cheek and bringing it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to it.

The Garrison hadn't opened for the day yet but the Peaky Boys were starting to gather at the bar, getting in a pint before the days business was about to begin. John and Arthur were already trying to place a bet with Isaiah about who could down the most pints before blacking out with Arthur claiming it to be him.

"Eh, lads! No more drinking until business is finished for the day, and Arthur, I could place twenty pound on it being anyone but you who could drink the most", Tommy interrupted, leading to a cackle of ladish jeers. 

Y/N laughed before getting Tommy's attention once again, this time placing a finger beneath his chin and gently pulling his face towards hers.

"I know you, Tommy Shelby. You like to be on time when it's for business but business is also what makes you late to see me"

He felt a pang of guilt hit his stomach at her words, he knew she was right. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come home to find her curled up in front of the fire in his office fast asleep. How many times he'd either carried her up to bed or simply placed a blanket over her while he continued working into the early hours of the morning. 

"I promise, love. I'll be at the garage at 8pm sharp"

This time he leant forward and touched his lips to hers, taking in the sweet flavour of her lips that he loved so much.

"Go on, Pol will be waiting for you"

She paused, "Is it bad to say that I don't believe you?"

"I promise, Y/N"

She wanted to believe the sincerity in his eyes but a tiny part of her knew that she'd more than likely be kept waiting out in the cold while he finished up business for the day. 

"Okay", she half smiled, "I love you, Mr. Shelby"

Tommy kissed her then, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

"I love you too, Mrs. Shelby"

---

It was already dark by the time she'd made her way to their meeting point with only the glow from a firepit in the workshop opposite as the main source of light, rain flooding down onto the pavement outside in typical autumnal British fashion creating the sound of pattering on the old tin roof of the garage.

Y/N sighed as she leant against the black Ford Model T, taking a look at her watch. 8:03pm. 

'Well, it's only three minutes late, let's see if he's here before four minutes late', she thought to herself. 

There wasn't much to see in the garage other than old petrol can's and some oiled rags that had been dropped lazily on the floor, not that she could see much anyway with only the fire for her source. In fact, it only stretched as far as half the length of the garage, where unbenownsed to her there were men that were lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting victim. 

"Get 'em!"

The sound of a thick London Italian accent echoed through the cold rickety room and all Y/N could think to do was to cower against the car, waiting to be manhandled in some kind of way, the panic instantly settling into her chest.

It was obvious that the men who now had their fists blowing punches to her face didn't have a clue it was in fact a woman they were beating and not a man, probably due to the fact the fire was doing little to show that she'd wrapped her scarf over her head to stop the rain from ruining her curls. They didn't realise until she mustered enough strength through the continuous punches to let out the loudest scream she could.

It was only then that the men took a step back as the same voice from before bellowed out, "Stop!"

She held her hands up to her face and felt a slick warm liquid quickly covering them, the skin beneath it sore to the touch. Her left eye was blurry from the mixture of what she could only assume to be blood and swelling, but she could just about make out the silhoutte of a slim man with a hat standing near the wall.

The adrenaline was already kicking in helping to keep some of the pain from showing it's full potential, but her fight or flight hadn't seemed to of made an appearance yet. All she could do was stand there, frozen to the spot, her hands still holding her bloodied face.

"You must be Tommy Shelby's missus", spoke the man with the hat, taking a step forward confirming in the dim light that it was who she'd feared it would be. Sabini.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?", he smirked, leering towards her only inches from her face, "Apologies for the misunderstanding, we thought you were Mr. Shelby"

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought that this beating was meant for Tommy, that she knew they intended to do more than land a few punches to his face. She spat at the ground infront of Sabini's feet.

"You're lucky it was me and not Tommy, he'd have your eyes the minute you laid your hands on him", she was surprised by how even she managed to keep her voice despite the sheer panic coursing through her. 

Y/N knew it was a lie, that Tommy would be far too outnumbered to take on five of Sabini's men on his own especially without being able to see much.

Sabini laughed, throwing his head back slightly before stopping abruptly and grabbing onto each of her arms.

"You listen here you little princess, I don't think you quite understand the extent of how pissed off I am at your fella. You see, him and his brothers came to my club in London two nights ago. The Eden Club. A well run establishment, I'm sure you've heard of it. Anyway, they caused such a fucking scene that I've had to take matters into my own hands. I was planning on getting to Tommy, show him how scared he should really be about barging into one of my clubs, but it seems I may now have an even better way of sending that message".

Even with the light uneven across his features she could see a sly snarl creep onto Sabini's face, his breath fanning against her skin as he spoke. It was enough to make her want to wretch.

"Right boys, forget about Tommy. I want you to do what you were going to do to Tommy to her"

Her heart flew straight into her throat, threatening to jump out of her mouth at any moment. She wanted to throw up but the best thing she could do now would be to gain as much attention to passers by as she could. She screamed again only to have her mouth covered by Sabini as two men took over the hold on her arms.

"Listen here you little bitch, whether you like it or not, you're getting a beating. If Tommy's not man enough to face me himself and resorts to showing up to one of my clubs instead then this is what happens, someones pretty little face gets smashed in"

"You're a fucking creep! Tommy will be here any minute and I'm sure his brothers will be with him too, you won't know what fucking hit you!", she spat, the venom spewing from her mouth.

Sabini wasted no time in landing a hard slap against her already throbbing cheek making her splutter out whatever saliva she had left. He didn't leave it there though as his gripped both hands around her throat, squeezing as tight as he could.

"We'll be glad to see Tommy and his brothers, we can have a nice little catch up. Those boys couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery no matter how hard they tried so I'm not too worried. Carry on boys"

He let go of her throat leading her to gasp for air, her lungs felt like they were on fire with every harsh breath.

She didn't even have time to brace herself from the punch that was swiftly administered to her stomach, knocking out every bit of air she had managed to gain back, bringing her to the ground with a hard thump. Her head bounced off the ground sending a shockwave of pain running over her skull and down her neck. 

The punches were now followed by the kicks of steel toe capped boots, each kick more painful than the last until she almost felt numb. Where the fuck is Tommy?

She wanted nothing more than to scream out for him, to hear him running towards the men with bullets flying, ready to put an end to this nightmare, but all she could do was sob as the pain coursed through her.

"Boys, hold her up", Sabini's voice cut through the sound of the thumps and thuds, his voice menacing laced with a sneer.

Two men gripped Y/N's arms and yanked her back onto her feet, knees buckling beneath her with one of her ankles too weak to bare any weight. She was pretty sure she had some broken ribs and that her ankle was much the same way but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. The only thing she could do was let her head loll forwards with sheer exhaustion. 

It was hard to keep her eyes open as her head was pulled up by a harsh grab of her hair, weakness taking over her entire body.

"Look at me. I said look at me!"

Another firm yank of the hair had her gaze just about managing to focus on Sabini, his eyes showing a glint of evil.

"I want you to tell your dirty gypsy husband that I'm coming for him next, if he wants to take over my race tracks then he's gonna have to fight for it"

"You're a fucking pig Sabini", her voice was hoarse as she spoke, her head longing to fall fowards again and let her eyes shut.

"Take my fucking name out of your mouth! 'Ere, Franco, take my name out of this scum's mouth"

She wasn't prepared for what came next as a blade was forced inside her mouth, her cheeks slowly being cut as well as a part of her lip. The taste of the metallic blood filled every tastebud, the only noise she was able to make were muffled groans as the cold metal sliced roughly through her skin.

Her body suddenly dropped to the floor once more, the sound of the mens foot steps starting to fade as they made their way towards the back of the garage and through a hole in the wooden panelling. 

"Don't forget to give your husband my message, if you survive that is", Sabini's spoke, a chuckle following him as he finally left her and made his way out the same way as the other men. 

She had no energy to even cry any more, a numbness enveloping her body and the blood still slowly seeping out of every cut she'd sustained.

She couldn't focus on anything now, the need for sleep becoming too great to keep her eyes open. She didn't even hear Tommy's footsteps quickly approaching the garage a minute later where she lay in a pool of her own blood. All she could do was let her eyelids drop as she slipped into darkness.

—

"Y/N! Oh fuck, Y/N!"

His cries bellowed through the bleak surroundings, the only movement to be seen was the flicker of the flames from the fire in his peripheral. 

“John! Arthur! Where the fuck are you?”, he screamed into the night before turning his attention back to Y/N.

"C'mon Y/N you need to wake up now, c'mon sweetheart", his desperate pleas did nothing as he cradled her head, her blood soaking into his trousers. He could see her chest rising and falling but knew that it was getting slower and slower with every moment that passed by.

It'd only been a minute or so since he'd gotten there but he could've sworn it'd been more like an hour, his heart thumping so hard that he thought it would surely pop out of his chest. 

"John! Arthur!"

Tears were streaming down his face, dripping onto Y/N's blood soaked cheeks, leaving streaks running through the red liquid.

He knew his brothers were meant to be on their way with the promise of a bed at Arrow House for the night. He just hoped that they would be sober enough to help deal with the chaos that was going on.

There was so much blood that he didn't know what to do. Sure, he could leave Y/N and go get help himself, but he didn't want to leave her alone for even a second. He'd already let her down once this evening and he'd be damned if he was going to let her die here alone on the cold stone floor, or have the people who did this to her come back and finish off the job.

John and Arthur came stumbling through the open door of the garage, an arm wrapped over each others shoulders as they laughed about how many women they'd managed to pull that night. As soon as they saw the scene in front of them though, the laughing soon stopped and they both straightened up, their eyes almost not wanting to look at the state before them.

"Who the fuck did this, Tommy? Where the fuck are they? I'll fuckin’ get 'em Tom I fuckin’ promise you, those bastards won't get away with this!" John's hands had grown into fists with his knuckles turning white, the anger twisting his face into pure hatred.

"It doesn't matter right now, John. Just go and get help, call a fucking ambulance!", Tommy looked to Arthur whose expression had turned more into terror than anything else, "Arthur, I need you to get Pol, tell her Y/N's hurt, badly. Tell her I need her here, I need... just get her Arthur, now"

It took a second longer than Tommy would've liked but both brothers soon turned and ran out towards the Shelby family home, their legs wobbling beneath them as they went.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry", Tommy sobbed as he gently stroked her face, pulling her in closer to him. His mind was racing with all the questions he was dying to know the answer to.

He knew he should be worrying about who it was that had done this to her but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that already, and he wasn't about to waste what time he might have left with his wife thinking about that. No. All that mattered right now was that Y/N was going to live, that her eyes would open and she'd look up at him with that brilliant smile he loved so much to tell him that she was okay, that she was going to survive this.

Flashing lights appeared outside whilst Tommy had his head rested on Y/N's, whispering over and over again how sorry he was and how much he loved her. The pain he felt was all consuming and he knew he'd give anything to be in her position right now, just like it should have been.

Even when the medics came to retrive Y/N he couldn't bare to let her go, he insisted on carrying her into the back of the ambulance and holding her all the way to the hospital. They knew better than to argue with the Shelby man but managed to convince him to allow for her vitals to be monitored on the journey there, her pulse rate rapidly declining.

Polly hadn't arrived at the garage quick enough so Arthur had driven both Polly and John to the hospital at speed, swerving all over the road as they went, the tires slipping on the slick ground beneath them.

When they finally got there they saw Tommy disappearing through the double doors with Y/N still in his arms, a trail of blood on the floor behind him. This was going to be a long night.

—

The doctors had managed to get her heart rate back up to a reasonable pace by the time she was settled into a private hospital room. Fluids were being administered consistently alongside different medicines flowing through the tubes, her wounds now dressed with bandages and a thin blanket covering her black and blue body.

"Mr. Shelby, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal, it's a miracle she's still alive", a tall man with slicked blonde hair and glasses spoke, a clipboard and pen in his hands.

"When will she wake up?", Tommy tried to shake off his annoyance at the doctors statement of the obvious, of course this was a fucking terrible ordeal! Anyone with eyes could see that. He just wanted the facts that mattered most.

"Mr. Shelby, as I said, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal..."

Tommy grimaced, "I fucking know she has, don't you think I can see what's right in front of me? That and the fact I found my wife lying in a pool of her own blood half dead? Just tell me, when will she wake up?"

He was growing tired of not having answers to the main question he had and knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he had a definitive answer.

"The honest answer Mr. Shelby is that we don't know. To be blunt we're not sure if she's going to"

Tommy's heart dropped into his stomach.

"As you know, she's been through...", the doctor paused, not wanting to use the term 'terrible ordeal' again, "A lot. We've taken some images of her brain and we can see that she has some bleeding and swelling. We're not sure that she can recover from something like that, we can only hope that she will. Her injuries are severe, Mr. Shelby. As well as the damage to the brain she also has some internal bleeding, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, brusing to the esophagus, cuts to the inside of her mouth and a broken ankle. We're doing everything we can to ensure that she'll recover from this but it will take time. I'm sorry"

A ringing sounded in Tommy's ears, a noise so defeaning that he couldn't focus on anything right now other than the fact Y/N might not make it through this. His chest tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, the sheer weight of the words he'd just heard sitting heavy on his chest.

"Are you okay, Mr. Shelby?"

"Leave. Now, please. Leave!"

The doctor wasted no time in carrying out Tommy's order as he scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Tommy fell to the floor, his knee's weak and unable to hold him upright. He clutched his chest as he gasped for the air that seemed to have become so thin in the room. Tears that had gathered in his eyes began to fall and there was nothing more he could do than kneel there on the cold floor as his world came crashing down around him. 

If he'd of been there at the time they'd agreed then this wouldn't have happened, not to Y/N anyway. It would be him laying in the hospital bed in front of him instead of her, or he'd be laying in a ditch somewhere ready for some poor passerby to find when dawn came. 

He knew for a fact that the guilt that was growing in strength would never leave him even if she did make it out of this, that he'd always blame himself for not being on time. 

A small knock on the door brought him shakily back up onto his feet again as he gripped onto the frame of the bed. Tommy managed to wipe away his tears just in time for Polly, John and Arthur to walk into the room. 

He couldn't look at them, only at Y/N laying in the bed. Her lifeless body was slightly sinking into the mattress beneath her, a mess of hair covered in congealed blood surrounded her head.

"Is she going to be okay, Tom?", John's voice quietly cut through the silence like a knife. 

Tommy took a moment before letting out a sigh, the lump in his throat wanting to escape and cause tears to come flooding out. 

"I don't know. The doctor said that she's got bleeding and swelling on the brain amongst other things. They don't know if she's going to wake up".

The room stayed silent with no one wanting to say a word, both for fear of upsetting Tommy further and also because what else was there to say? There was nothing any of them could do to make the situation better or to make light of any of this.

Tommy took a seat next to Y/N's bed side and held her fragile hand, longing for her to wrap her fingers around his, but of course she didn't. Even that alone was enough to make his heart break.

"John. I need you to arrange for the blinders to be on a rotation of a look out. I don't want anybody coming in or out this hospital without us knowing about it. Arthur, take Isaiah and a couple of the blinders with you to London, I need you to find Sabini", Tommy spoke plainly, not taking his eyes off of Y/N.

"Yes, Tom", Arthur nodded, motioning for John to follow his lead out of the room.

"Oh, and Arthur? When you find him", Tommy turned to look at him now, his eyes cold but somehow a fire lit in them, "Bring him to me. Alive"

—

Three days later

As expected, Tommy arrived back at the hospital within four hours instead of the six Aunt Polly had ordered. 

He couldn't sleep. Every time he'd managed to drift off he was soon awoken by nightmares of Y/N's screams as she was repeatedly kicked and punched, the sound each one of the blows made making his stomach churn. He could see her body laying there in a pool of blood with sobs wracking her chest... her calling out his name and him not being able to reach her even though he could see everything that was happening. 

Tommy woke up in a cold sweat, his clothes soaked right through and his hair wet. He decided he was better off admitting defeat than to try going back to sleep, the thought of having to see those images of Y/N whenever he closed his eyes was enough to make his blood run cold. 

His childhood home was quiet when he made his way downstairs. Ada had taken Finn to Arrow House under her watchful eye with Karl, it was better to be in a house that was stocked with firearms than back in London with nothing but a single pistol and where Sabini could be lurking in the shadows. 

John had gone to the hospital to take the next watch and Arthur was somewhere in London seeking out Sabini and his lackeys, waiting to hand him a blow that would make the Italian man wish he'd never come to Birmingham.

Tommy decided on having a bath before putting on clean clothes, taking a look in the mirror before he left. His complexion had almost drained of colour over the past three days with the exception of the dark circles that appeared under his eyes, much darker than usual. 

"God I hope she wakes up soon", he muttered to himself, adorning his peaky cap and reaching for the door handle before stepping out onto the bustling streets of Birmingham, lighting a smoke as he made his way to the hospital.

When he walked through the doors of Y/N's room he noticed something different. Aunt Polly was no longer sitting there with sadness in her eyes, instead she was stood next to the bed holding Y/N's hand, a small smile upon her face.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion and his pace slowed as he approached her.

"What's happened?" he asked, nervous energy rushing through him.

"She moved, Tom. All on her own, she moved!"

Polly was beaming now, fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she had to resist the urge to hug him.

"What do you mean she moved?"

"I mean, I was reading her one of your poems and holding her hand. Her fingers started to move as if she was trying to tell me she could hear me. She's still in there Tommy"

His heart swelled in his chest although he didn't want to get his hopes up too much, there was nothing worse that breaking your own heart with false hope.

"It might've just been the nerves jumping, Pol. She probably doesnt have control of her body right now", he knew he sounded like dismissive bastard but he couldn't bring himself to believe that Y/N could do that but not open her eyes.

"Stop being so bloody negative Thomas. I'm telling you exactly what I saw with my own two eyes. Read to her yourself, you'll see", Polly scolded him, picking up the pages she'd left on her seat and going to hand them to him.

Tommy said nothing but shook his head towards the pages and instead took a step closer towards Y/N's bed. 

Polly placed Y/N's hand in his and softly spoke, "Y/N love, if you can hear what we're saying then squeeze Tommy's hand, let us know that you're still there".

He held his breath as he waited to see if she'd respond, his eyes watching her fingers like a hawk.

"She's not moving, Pol. You're seeing things with the lack of sleep, go home and get to bed, I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere"

"Don't tell me what you think I may be or may not be seeing and certainly don't tell me what to do. You may be a man now Thomas but I'm still able to lay you across my knee and give you a good hiding", her eyes glared daggers into the side of his head as he continued to stare at Y/N's fingers, unmoving on top of his.

"I'm sorry Pol, I just can't... I just can't stand the thought of having the hope there that she'll show me she's okay if she never actually...", he stopped dead in his tracks.

His mouth dropped open and his gaze widened in shock as Y/N's fingers started to slowly lift upwards before coming back down to rest on top of his fingers, trying to curl themselves around his.

"Y/N? It's okay, I'm here. You're safe", he placed his free hand over hers and leant over to kiss her head, the bruises still prominent, "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry".

Tommy couldn't hold back the tears that were coming and let them spill out to fall down her cheeks, the overwhelming burst of relief he felt within his soul was like nothing he could explain. 

Polly stood with a hand over her mouth, a smile beneath her fingers. 

"T-T-Tommy?..."

Did she just speak?

His head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. When he caught the first glimpse of her face he could see that her eyes were slightly open. Her eyeballs had red spots on them where blood vessels had burst, either from the pressure of being strangled or from the numerous hits to the face she'd sustained. He tried to hide the shock that hit him and gently cradled her face with both hands, careful not to press down on the discoloured blotches that lay beneath them.

"You're awake, you're... I-I can't believe it", he stuttered, scanning her face for any kind of expression.

"Y-you... w-w-were... late", she croaked.

It was almost as if he'd taken a stab to the chest as her words met his ears and the guilt came flooding back.

"I know, I'm so, so sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for this, not for as long as I live"

He stifled a sniff as his tears continued, a sob escaping his lips as his face screwed up into pure anguish.

"I-it's... okay", she murmered, taking a deep breath, "do-don't be... s-sorry... I-I'm j-just... glad i-it w-wasn't... you"

"No sweetheart, no. It's not okay, none of this is okay. Because of me, you're lying here in a hospital bed, completely black and blue with internal injuries and broken bones, all because I got too cocky and tried to challenge that fucker. I swear to you, Y/N. I'm gonna put a bullet between his eyes for this, he's not going to get away with it".

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and she smiled softly, the memory of him doing to same back in The Garrison just before she'd left him that day, just before all of this happened…

"H-he said t-t-to... g-give you a... m-message..."

"No, shh shh, it's okay. You don't need to tell me anything right now, you need to rest and get better. You can hardly speak. Tell me anything you need to when you start to feel better. All I care about right now is that I have you, here, alive. No amount of money nor business could come close to how happy I am right at this very moment"

Two Days Later

She'd been awake more frequently over the next couple of days with each day being better than the last. Her bruises had now started to turn a lighter shade of blue with greens and browns dotted through them and the bleeding and swelling on her brain had improved significantly. 

The doctors were stunned at how well she was doing, they half expected her to die within the first few days she'd arrived at the hospital. 

"How are you feeling today?", Tommy asked as he stroked her hair from his position on the edge of the bed.

"A bit be-tter than yesterday", she softly smiled. She couldn't deny that she still felt like absolute shit and that every time she breathed it felt like she was trying to push air through a straw, but she was just relieved that she'd survived this whole ordeal, "Can you h-help me sit up a b-bit please?"

He instantly stood and gently swooped an arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her up before sitting her back down on the bed and repositioning her pillows behind her against the headboard. She winced with the motion but tried her best to hide it. She already knew that Tommy had so much guilt eating him up inside, it almost felt like if she showed him that she was in any kind of pain that it was a reminder of how much he'd fucked up.

"Is that okay?"

She nodded slowly, aware of her aching neck with every slight movement.

"Good, it's nice to see you looking a bit more like yourself", he smiled, his eyes studying every inch of her face.

"Sabini t-told me to tell y-you t-that he's coming for y-you next and that I-if you want to take o-over his race tracks then you're gonna h-have to fight for it... I'm s-scared, Tommy"

Tommy moved his chair closer to the bed, so close that his knees were touching the side of the frame, and took her hand in his.

"I promise you Y/N, you have nothing to be scared about. I know that I broke my promise before about being on time and it cost both of us more than I thought possible, but I swear to you, right here, right now in this moment, I won't let that fucker come near you ever again"

A response to that seemed impossible. Of course she wanted to believe her own husband but when he'd already broken one promise, one that had ultimatley almost led to her death, how could she possibly believe that he'd keep this one?

He could see her thoughts running round her mind, her eyebrows furrowing and mouth twitching like she didn't know what to say.

"Look, I know I fucked up massively. I will never be able to explain to you how sorry I am and I'd understand completely if you didn't want to be with me any more, but please believe that I will do everything in power from here on out to make sure that you're safe"

He was almost scared to hear what she was going to say. Did she want to leave him? Was he destined to lose his wife, not by death this time, but from the sheer fact she didn't think he could keep her safe?

"I-I could n-never leave you, T-Tommy Shelby", she smiled, her lips curving up into her bruised cheeks. 

Tommy stood up and brushed his lips against hers, laying a tender kiss upon them before pulling back slightly, enough to still feel her breath on his face.

"Just p-promise me one m-more thing", she spoke, looking into his eyes.

"Anything"

"Don't ever be l-late again"

He grinned, the twinkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen since waking up returning once more.

"I promise"

———

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[moeitsu]

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Lore part 2 :)

Wow! You guys really appreciated my first post about Logan's backstory/lore and I'm grateful for all of your feedback!! Here's the link to part 1 if you're interested :)

I'm so happy to see all the love he's getting, its actually surreal to be a part of this fandom again and seeing all the new Wolverine content! The fanart and fanfics are literally my life-source rn. You don't even wanna know what my tiktok saved folder looks like....

You guys asked for more so here is part 2! It's not as organized as the first part, apologies. I'm using both the movies and comics here. Some stuff isn't confirmed but generally accepted in the mcu.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Wolverine first appeared in The Incredible Hulk #180. He was supposed to be a mutated human/animal but the idea was later scrapped.

He was approx. 197 years old when he died in the movie 'Logan'

There's multiple different deaths in the comics but I wont get into that.

Logan is 5'3"- 5'5" (short king)

He has black hair and blue eyes

Before the adamantium, he weighed 196lbs (88kg). After the binding he was 300lbs (136kg)

His body is poisoned by the adamantium metal as it breaks down over time. Requiring him to be in a constant state of regeneration, which begins to slow down as he ages.

Without the metal he probably could have lived a lot longer.

Logan has a fear of water, or rather, drowning. It’s one of the only times can’t regenerate. It would cause his death.

The Weapon X program is also responsible for this fear since he was submerged under water for a long period of time for the binding.

The metal in his body also makes him so heavy it would be very difficult for him to swim.

In the comics Logan temporarily loses his healing factor due to a virus created by Dr. Abraham Cornelius. (Weapon X scientist) This event leaves him vulnerable for the first time in his life, forcing him to confront the reality of his mortality.

His healing ability greatly affects his mental state. Logan can quickly recover from physical damage, but he still feels all the pain. His ability to cope and endure despite the overwhelming suffering is central to his character.

Logan has an acute sense of smell. He can track people and objects across a great distance. It’s so precise that he can identify people’s emotional states such as fear or anger. Even when someone is lying.

Logan was sensitive, shy, and timid as a child.

The first person he ever killed was his biological father.

After killing his father he ran away from home with his friend Rose. (a hired companion to help care for him when he was young). Unfortunately, Logan accidently killed her during a fight.

Logan speaks several languages, due to his extensive life and travels. He speaks English, Japanese, Russian, Spanish, Chinese, Cheyenne and Lakota.

He’s actually an incredibly smart guy, don’t let him fool you.

Despite his love for alcohol, Logan’s healing factor makes it nearly impossible for him to get drunk.

Logan brews his own beer in the Origins comics. (we love a domestic husband)

On Logan’s birthday every year, Sabretooth seeks him out just to beat him up as a twisted "gift." Sabretooth calls this tradition "birthday beatings."

Spider-Man and Wolverine have teamed up a few times in the comics and they are a hilarious pair.

Logan's "berserker rage" is not just a result of his animalistic mutant powers. But stems from his deep psychological trauma. This side of him only emerges when he is pushed into extreme emotional or physical stress.

At one point before he escaped the Weapon X experiment, he was hired to kill Charles Xavier.

Logan's wife Itsu and son Daken were allegedly killed by the Winter Soldier, however it was later revealed that his son actually lived and had been consumed by hatred for his father. Logan was forced to kill his own son before he could cause more harm.

This act is one of, if not the most painful moment in Logan’s life, as it represents his ultimate failure as a father.

Logan blames himself for Jean Grey’s death.

He lived a majority of his life without his memories. Having no idea who he actually is.

Despite his involvement with the X-Men and his many close relationships he often feels like an outsider. Like he doesn’t belong anywhere. He isolates himself because loneliness is a familiar feeling.

Logan prefers the solitude and sanctity of nature. He loves the outdoors and has a lot of respect for the natural world. Often retreating into the wild for his own peace.

In one comic he baby sits Luke Cage and Jessica Jones daughter. Danielle Cage.

He can be quite playful at times with the younger mutants. For example, building a snowman with Jubilee.

Logan dreams of a normal life. He dreams of having a family with a wife and children and leaving the violence behind.

[huellitaa]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ feeling uncomfy in ur own skin

ok so this is something ive been struggling with for years. like i wake up some days and just feel Eugh way more than id like to. SO i decided i'd make a little guide on this! for me and for you 🩷✨

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 reasons why we could be feeling uncomfortable with ourselves and who we are

♡ having a shitty mental diet and consuming media and things that make you feel bad abt urself

♡ being in an environment where we're constantly being judged or put down, even over the most basic things

♡ hanging around negative people or negative places

♡ not giving urself enough credit for ur own achievements and accomplishments

♡ changing urself constantly for others and not having a clear sense of self to hold on to

♡ not having boundaries on how you and others treat you

♡ staying stagnant in the same place in your life and not changing (🎀🗒️also read: get comfy being uncomfy ♡)

♡ not paying enough attention to yourself and avoiding your genuine thoughts, feelings and emotions

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. be gentle with yourself!

pleasepleaseplease its ok to have bad days its ok to not feel great every day. treat yourself as you would someone you love. if you just aren't feeling good today, then you aren't feeling good! honour that and respect that and deal with that accordingly. even if you are uncomfortable with yourself right now or you don't like yourself right now, please try and treat yourself with care regardless, because no matter what stage you are in in your life right now you are and always will be the most important person in ur life, so TREAT URSELF LIKE IT🫶💖

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. inspiration, not comparison!

i know its often told not to go looking at people who are ahead of you in these times but hear me out. i think looking at and observing people you admire who are further ahead of you is very motivating to build yourself up and *become more like them* in your own way. you look up to them because of ___? what can you do to become your own version of that? thinking like this gets me more inspired to just get out of bed because i want to be more like them.

two words for this one - NO. COMPARISON. gaining inspiration from others to better yourself and comparing yourself to others are two completely different things. 🫶 (shameless self promo, but i have a post on this here! 🩷✨)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. analysis: detective work chapter!

journal and think and think to urself why u might feel like this or what caused this. when did it start? has anything happened lately that may have caused this? how does it feel, in depth? what can you do to combat this? how can you make it through the day & make it so you do even better tomorrow?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. channeling the mindset!

back to my point on our idols, thinking like them & thinking what they'd do in this situation helps me a lot. personally one of my idols is ada lovelace so whenever im really tired and unmotivated or insecure on my abilities or appearance or anything else i think to myself "what would she do?" and 9 times out of 10 im up at my desk in my cutest outfit hard at work. this is def one of my favourite points and something i use on the daily for like literally everything and 100% recommend 🩷✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. what would i do?

similarly, ask urself what the best version of yourself or the version of urself youre working towards would do in this situation. be your own inspiration. be ur own muse. would they stay in bed and rot all day? if the answer is no then ur up. out. immediately. ask urself what they would do. if ur feeling drained, would they take a day off to do some self care and recharge? if ur feeling sad, would they be gentle with themselves and let themselves feel sad for a little while & try to work to the root of the problem?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. understanding yourself!

make a list of the things that make you the happiest and most comfortable & productive and the things that make you the unhappiest and the opposite of those things. i mentioned this in my recharge day post, but figuring out these will help you find out which negative behaviours or habits are lowering ur vibrations and making u feel like this, and help u to engage more in the things that make you happy with yourself and everything around you 💗✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. pay attention!

pay close attention to ur internal landscape and your self talk throughout the day. note down every little thing you notice, even if you think it won't be helpful; for example, do you find yourself indulging in negative talk abt urself, negative talk abt others, constantly being pessimistic and expecting the worst, indulging in judgement and criticism of urself and everyone around you, getting distracted easily, and so on.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. what would i do, part 2

like i mentioned earlier, you should be your own inspiration. you should be your own muse. as much as it's nice to have idols, when ur trying to change something about urself and adjust and improve ur own behaviours, you should be mainly focusing on what you want to achieve by changing said behaviours. do you know who you're working towards being? do you know how you want to feel? do you know what you are changing these things you feel into? think about whether or not the person you are now lines up with the person you want to be in all aspects of ur life. if you feel like you aren't even trying to meet these standards then of course ur gonna feel bad about urself. of course don't be too hard on urself, but keep this in mind. 💓✨

finally, remember that these things are temporary and it wont be like this forever. ur beautiful and perfect no matter what and in these times u gotta show up for yourself even more and never give up! i believe in u 🫶🩷

all my love 💗💬✨🎀

[hamsternella]

please do a NSFW alphabet of Stanley Pines, please I'm begging you. The one with Ford was amazing.

Here it is!

Stanley Pines NSFW Alphabet

A= Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

It takes him some time to catch his breath, but rest assured that through it all Stan will be wrapping your body in a gentle embrace, accompanied by his laughter. He always tells you how much he loved the encounter, and how beautiful you look despite the sweat and the palpable smell of sex. Not exactly romantic; but amidst all the talk and laughter you always find in his eyes a look of intense love and tenderness.

B= Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Did you know that in addition to generating conflict and lying a lot, Stan's mouth is good for other kinds of really cool stuff? Like giving you the strongest orgasms and the deepest kisses. If he had to choose, it would always be his mouth. His penis, too—but that last one doesn't exactly sound amazing. Of course his cock feels great; but he prefers that with which he can confess to you precious things, like how much he loves you, or how hot you look riding him. Stan is an expert with words.

Now, as for you… it's complicated. Stan loves everything about you—your whole body is his favorite thing. But if you were to urge him to pick one in particular, he'd say your face. There are many things that turn him on; but your face, in particular, gets him more than anything else in the world. Seeing you in his eyes as he pushes your head so you swallow his cock whole, gasping at you about how good you're being to him and that you're in for a great reward for being so obedient, makes Stan lose himself in a limbo of unimaginable pleasure.

C= Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a lot and hard. He loves to do it on your ass, or inside your mouth; always making sure you've swallowed it all. If you would give him the approval, then he would also do it inside you.

D= Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When Stanley can't stand the growing desire for you that consumes him, the cameras tracking your position throughout the cabin help him lessen the need. Whether it's paperwork, business matters, the presence of many buyers or your own personal affairs, Stan tries to use any excuse to control himself, although there are days when it's impossible. A little of your figure or your smile helps him enjoy himself in the privacy of his office.

It's not always him patting his bulge through his pants, his body leaning fully against the chair; sometimes it's the necessity of having to watch you smile while he lets out sighs like an idiot losing his breath because of love. Whether it's one or the other, Stan refuses to let you catch him daydreaming in the gloom of his office. How are you supposed to look him in the face if you knew the adolescent attitudes he has in privacy?

Some recordings end up saved for when you're away. Eventually this guy takes up the activity of taking pictures—of which you don't ever have to know. Unless you find the box tucked away in the back of the closet, of course.

E= Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced. Your first night with Stan is unforgettable, and all those that follow equally so. He knows exactly what to do and say to make you a mess; no matter the place or the situation. He is a man who has lived diverse experiences, which help fuel everything that crosses his mind about sex. Rough, tough; soft or sweet—whatever you want and however you want. Stan is willing to teach you everything it takes to make you feel good.

F= Favorite position

It would be difficult to decide the best position, but there are a couple that always end up being used the most.

Rocking horse, because it's the easiest way to have your face close to his, with your eyes on his—the intense gaze of your man devouring your whole figure as you ride him. Impossible to lose sight of you. Stan loves that.

Missionary, because who doesn't love the classics? Nothing better than owning your body from above, bursting into your core with every thrust as Stan rips out a couple of those sweet sounds he loves so much.

Doggy, because if there's one other thing that drives him crazy, it's being able to take the tender flesh of your ass between his hands while watching himself enter you. Stan can grab you by the hair, caress your back or handle you at will. Better yet: you won't see his face when you moan his name; the way his eyes fill with longing.

G= Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Stan is as serious as he can get. He won't be a sea of laughter or jokes, but neither will he be completely at the mercy of an unflappable face or a tense body. A joke here, a joke there; sometimes a couple of stifled chuckles and crooked smiles, but all a product of the situation itself and the emotions that overwhelm him. It's nothing to be uncomfortable about, I assure you. Stan is a playful guy, who enjoys seeing you made a mess in his hands. Some humor doesn't hurt; but be assured that nothing he does or says is going to be to make fun of you in a bad way.

The effect is always the opposite, in fact.

H= Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hairy and unkempt. That's just the way he is. Stan attributes it to his genes, no matter how much you insist that fixing it is a separate issue. Of course, if that's the way you like it, there won't be a problem; but if it's the other way around, and no matter how much he complains about it, rest assured that Stan will get to work to at least trim it a little. The truth is, he likes hair—and that includes you, too. There is no need to feel ashamed!

I= Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Extremely aware of your needs, which was a surprise the first time together. Stan may seem like a difficult guy —because he certainly is—, but in privacy his heart comes out, even with the heaviness of carnal desire upon you. He's a sensitive man; his rough hands always shy when the heat of the moment subsides, his eyes heavy with concern and his face red, sweaty.

The hoarse words of love and hugs are not lacking. Never. There comes a point where you consider that he needs it more than you do.

J= Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Stan used to do it regularly when he first met you, being that you didn't see each other often. But once you put your presence in the cabin, the masturbation thing becomes more of a regular occurrence if you two do it together. Stan loves to watch you touch yourself in front of him; just as many other times he did it himself to play with you, watching you get desperate. It's that way you see him so hungry, so needy, that makes him throw himself on you, bending your body over as best he can to fill you up.

Seeing you is all he needs—you are all he needs.

K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Blindfold sex, dominance and praise kink.

L= Location (favorite places to do the do)

Naughty hands are everywhere. Stan allows you a moment's respite when there are people around; but there will always be a kiss or a couple of dirty words stirring up the floor. Now, when it comes to sex he prefers private places, because the last thing he wants is to risk being seen by someone else; or being interrupted and causing a scene. Sometimes Stan has certain fantasies, but they don't amount to much for the same reasons. The bedroom or office —even the kitchen or bathroom, if you're alone— is more than enough. He's a simple guy.

The car is another perfect place. You are the best travel companion!

M= Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you make a pass at him or if you get rebellious Stan feels his pants bothering him. Suddenly his hands itch with the need to put you in your place—maybe a good spanking will help make you say all those dirty things that make him push his cock all the way down your throat.

If you use honesty to tell him how much you need him you may be spared punishment, but still get what you want so badly. Stan tends to warm up to your honesty when it comes to him. This guy loves that you want him as much as he wants you. That's what love is like.

N= No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Some burning is fine if you let him; but direct harm and anything else you dislike is a complete NO.

O= Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Stan loves to give oral. He loves the taste of you in his mouth and the way you squirm. But oh, my, he'd be lying if he said he doesn't prefer to have you with your mouth wide open and your eyes full of tears. How this man loves to keep you warm and full to the brim; wet lips and his hands on your head or your cheeks, cheering you on from above with pride shining in his gaze—because you're so good and you do it perfect, so well. You look beautiful when all you do is eat pure cock.

P= Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow at first, not so deep because he prefers to savor the pressure around him. Then it's a constant of hard and fast movements.

Q= Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes them a lot, but it is something that tires him out and eventually the time comes to accept that at his age it is an activity that requires preparation and patience. At the end of the day Stan prefers regular foreplay, and the actual sex in the bedroom, in peace.

R= Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Stan is willing to experiment and take risks. He has no problem with it. As long as these kinds of experiments don't involve other people, of course; other than that there are plenty of things he's willing to put into practice with you.

S= Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

At the moment Stan gives the impression that he is a beast, but when the heat of said moment subsides you realize that he tires quite quickly, and doesn't give room for many rounds. Not that it is so necessary, either, because such is the intensity of the sex that there is nothing else to bring to the table. It's something that at first gave Stan insecurities—all this about his inability to go further. But a talk with you is enough to clear up certain misunderstandings.

Sex is amazing, especially because it's between you. There's nothing more to say.

T= Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

YES, no more questions. Stan is more than willing to experiment with you. Either using them with you, or even letting you do it with him. Whatever it is, it's a matter of finding out what else comes out of all this. Possibly fun! That's never lacking with Stan.

U= Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Very much so. Even though you tell him it's hopeless, he loves seeing you so needy. It's like an addiction—seeing that face and those eyes, that way your lips quiver. Stan would never stop doing it. He doesn't plan to, either.

V= Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts and gasps, lots of dirty talk in between. It's almost at the end that the sounds increase, but he always manages to drown out most of them.

W= Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Stan is not only a very jealous person, but also extremely insecure. There are many ghosts from his past that still haunt him; that persist since you came into his life, to be more specific. It's complicated for him, but talking about it with you makes him embarrassed. Words of affirmation and acts of service always help to remind him how important he is to you.

On the other hand, Stan is touch starved. It's one thing to rub hands together, to just kiss, or to smile and flirt in public. But it's a different story when you're alone together: cuddling to sleep, deep kisses and confessions of an almost needy, even timid love. He is simply lost in you. You're so perfect that maybe you're not even real.

X= X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Not so long—but thick. Slightly curved downward, with a fat head.

Y= Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Stan needs you badly. That's all you need to know. Even if there is no sex, touch is never lacking. It would be a crime not to be able to enjoy your skin against his; the heat of your body feeding that desire that burns inside him. Stan needs you with a voracious hunger.

The longing is too much if it's about you.

Z= Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Very fast. It's hard for him to keep his eyes open, but at least he manages to talk to you a little to make sure you're okay before he falls asleep in your arms. The caresses are not lacking; his fingers still tremble in your hair as sleep takes hold of him.

Can there be anything better than sleeping next to you?

[dr-spectre]

Rambling about Marina and Relatability...

I've said in the past that i relate heavily to Marie, but as i think about it further.... I think i relate more to Marina... I just read through this incredible twitter thread by @ _CSenpai_ which i shall leave at the end, but it got me to really think... "huh... Marina is kinda me fr." (Also I'm gonna get pretty personal in this post so keep that in mind too.)

Marina has very serious special interests and clearly spends a lot of time researching and engaging in these interests. She gets VERY excited when someone mentions anything remotely about her interests and takes them seriously. Which is something i do as if someone even remotely mentions Splatoon out of the blue, my chest will go "BZZZTTTT" and i get the tingles and i wanna run around my room.

She's very into machinery, video games, music and manga/comic books. Marina stays up and overworks herself when it comes to music and her interests, which is shown in the dev diaries and chat logs in Side Order and Octo Expansion. This is something i tend to do as well as I consume my special interests way into the night and i can't go to bed because I'm so damn energized. Sometimes i become so focused that i don't even notice that time has passed by for so long and before i even realise it... It's 2pm and now i want lunch.

She corrects Pearl on wizards which reminds me of the kind of stuff i say during my rambles about Callie and her arc in Splatoon 2... I get VERY picky when it comes to people using ahem.... certain words when describing the events that took place.

In the Hero vs. Villain Splatfest, she is the only one who is taking it very seriously while everyone else is smiling or expressing anger.

She's using a god damn GAMECUBE CONTROLLER AND A HEADSET! She's literally me oh my god. When i go over for parties and celebrations and someone brings out a Switch and we play Smash Bros or Mario Kart? I take that shit seriously and i can't tone back my skill level and just have fun.

Also Marina is known to have sensitivity to certain food textures including mayo and pulp in orange juice. Now i LOVE mayo personally but i HATEEEE stuff in my drinks. I am a massive texture eater and i will avoid stuff in food that ruins the texture. When i get pumpkin soup for example, if i see vegetable bits in that shit i will actually feel sick and flick the bits off of my spoon.

Marina is also seen stimming and pacing back and forth when excited. When i tend to get overly excited by myself, i will literally violently shake for a brief moment and then squeal. I'm not joking.

Marina also tends to bottle up her emotions and often lashes out onto others when it's too much for her. Which is something i tend to do... I don't often say how i feel when someone asks how am i and i often wanna scream and break something when the anger is just too much for me to contain. I end up yelling by myself and cuss like no tomorrow. I can find solace in a character who does a similar thing i do, minus the cussing lmao.

I think one of the bigger reasons on why i relate to Marina is gonna be a weird one but... She is almost always seen with her headphones. No matter what situation she is in, she always wears her headphones.

Even when she's Marina Agitando and Overlorder has taken over her body, the Controller VM acts like headphones as it covers her ears!

Now this detail about her wearing her headphones almost often might seem minor, but to me it makes me love Marina even more. I always constantly wear headphones and it's due to various different reasons. First is because i love listening to music and enjoying background noise, second, it dampens the sounds around me as i can be pretty sensitive to certain sounds. And third... well... let's just say that i live with a uh.... loud parent who... gets pretty angry, NOT AT ME! THANKFULLY! BUT... when they scream... and swear... i put on my headphones and wait for the noise to go by. It's a comfort thing for me and helps get through those... rough periods... Marina wearing those headphones often and not being judged for it, makes me feel, happy...

...uh... yeah.

ANYWAYS! Another big thing i relate with Marina on is her want for order and balance in her life. She doesn't like massive changes in her routine and wants to maintain the balance in her life.

i do not like it when my routine suddenly changes and i get upset and angry. I have a strict routine and when it gets fucked over oh MAN OH MANNNN!!!!!!!!!!!

And that last point about feeling safe and secure, as i mentioned earlier with the third point about wearing headphones... I wanna feel safe and secure... I want to feel calm... I don't want someone to suddenly shout or get upset or for my routine to change and i can't do anything about it...

The only thing i don't relate with Marina on is well... Looks. Listen, i ain't no tall black octopus woman with a noticeable figure and a pretty face HAHAHAHA! I find it kind of funny that I'm able to relate SO MUCH to someone like her when I'm some 20 year old dude who looks nowhere NEAR like her. Except for maybe height i don't know.

However, i will say, i actually don't act this excited in person, i tend to be very shy and reserved in person compared to my online behaviour. I say words in a dry manner and i don't have the best social skills. So i guess that's where the relatability for Marie comes in as well. I'm a heavy introvert and despite my need for wanting to connect to others, i would rather stay indoors than go out and meet new people to start friendships or potentially a romantic relationship... like that's ever gonna happen anyways...................

I got two brain cells. It's them.

So anyways, that was all i wanted to say! I love Marina and she's my second favourite Idol, you can probably guess who's number 1 but i ain't talking about... her... well not today anyways.

Thanks for reading!!!

The thread that inspired this blog post: https://x.com/_CSenpai_/status/1367219374948376579

[salmon-bagel]

Tf2 mercenaries x Seductress! Class! Reader

Warning: nsfw content, female reader, sexism

Scout

When Scout heard that there's a woman who's a professional at seduction, he had already started plotting.

"Hello, name is Y/n L/n, but you can call me the Seductress. It's nice to meet you."

"Heya, nice to meet cha' mommy- Oh, i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy-"

Constantly hits on you. Scout believes that you're the type of girl that's 'easy', someone who will let anyone bang them regardless of who they are.

That boy isn't going to leave you alone until you let him into your pants.

Even when he's not busy trying to get in between your legs, Scout is asking you for advice on how to woo the ladies. Considering you're a professional at flirting with people.

You go back and forth on giving him good advice and bad advice. Sometimes you feel bad that he can't get a girlfriend. Then again, you think to yourself that no woman should be within three feet of Scout because of how much of a horny asshole he is.

After some time, you did grow to have a soft spot for him. Since he's bullied a lot by the other mercenaries. He can be kinda cute when he's not being a complete jerk.

Soldier

Soldier treats you like the other mercenaries. Ruthlessly bleating in your ear when you're doing something wrong.

"GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED SQUATS NOW! I WANT THAT AMERICAN ASS NICE AND PERKY BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE!"

He wants the best from you. Regardless of your gender, he'll push you to the limit until he's proud enough to call you a warrior.

Soldier tests that you're a good seductress by making you flirt with him. It's an ego boost on his part, but he's genuinely trying to make sure you're hot enough for the enemy.

"YOU CALL THAT FLIRTING!? I'VE HEARD BETTER FLIRTING FROM A MONKEY! AT LEAST THEY CAN PUCKER THEIR LIPS BETTER UNLIKE YOURS!"

Buys you clothing that he believes would work well when you're seducing the enemies. It's always american themed swimwear or lingerie. You began to believe he's just buying that for himself for you to try.

Whenever the team successfully wins for the day, Soldier immediately rushes towards and smacks your ass as hard as he can.

"NOW THAT IS AN ASS I'M PROUD TO CALL AMERICAN!"

Sniper

Sniper believes your work is very unprofessional. Considering he believes you have to whore yourself out to the enemy team. Instead of using your actual skills.

He says he has nothing against prostitution or sex work in general. Sniper just thinks that stuff you do should be kept behind doors and not on the battlefield. He says it causes too much of a distraction. However, you claim that 'distraction' is the point. Sniper doesn't seem to get it.

You honestly could care less what he thinks. Snipers throws jars of piss for a living, and he really thinks he has the right to judge other people?

The truth is you're good at seducing people. Too good. That it distracts him from doing his own job. Sniper has a tendency to watch you through the scope of his gun.

The way your body gets all hot and sweaty from the terrible heat, oh it does something to him. Sniper has imagined licking your sweat off your tits while you degrade him for being such a filthy fuck.

You are his go-to jerk off material. The women in his porno magazines don't get him off like they used. The only way he can relieve himself now is by imagining your fat ass bouncing on his cock.

When he noticed a pair of your panties in the laundry basket, Sniper couldn't help himself to inhale the sweet scent of your panties before putting them back.

Sniper knows he's a damn hypocrite.

He slut shames you for what you do, only to get off to you afterwards. The post nut clarity consumes him with guilt and shame.

Sniper still hasn't built up the courage to apologize to you.

Heavy

Heavy is one of the very few people who treat you like an actual human being. He was raised by a single mother alongside three sisters. Heavy knows to treat a woman right. Less he wishes to face their fury.

Heavy doesn't understand why you seduce the enemy. You're supposed to shoot at the enemy, not bat your eyelashes and wink! However, after watching your work on the battlefield, he gets to more of an understanding.

"Oh, I see. You lie to enemy and lure them in like fish? HA! Very clever!"

Absolutely loves gunning down the enemy that is distracted by you.

Is one of the few men who genuinely falls for you for your personality. Heavy knows you're drop-dead gorgeous, but he knows that beneath all that beauty is a truly intelligent woman. You earned your place on the team by impressing Mann Co., with your skills instead of batting your eyelashes and begging to be a part of the team. You make his heart swoon like no other woman has.

He likes to write you poetry. It helps convey how he feels for you because he's too bashful to put it into simple words.

Heavy is not afraid of anything. Nothing, not even death itself. However, it took him a lot of courage and constant rehearsal to ask you out on a date.

He hopes to start a genuine relationship with you. Heavy doesn't want a one-night stand or be friends-with-benefits with you. He wants you to be his girlfriend and maybe possibly his wife later down the line.

Engineer

"Well, I'll be! Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Engineer is taken aback by your good looks and sauve personality. He genuinely questions why you wanted to be a mercenary. A beautiful lady like yourself is too of high risk to get hurt!

Will always be there to help you if it gets too much for you to handle.

However, he can be very overprotective over you on the battlefield. Engineer thinks it would be safer for you to stay on the rancho relaxo than getting shot at by the enemy. As much as you'd like to not do anything on the job, Mann Co. isn't paying you to be lazy. They see everything and will tell you to get off your ass and start fighting.

You have to beg Engineer that you can do it on your own. He understands your point of view and begrudgingly lets you fight with the others. Even if it means going against his code of defending and protecting a lady when she needs it.

While putting up dispensers and sentries, he can't help to admire you from afar. Engie believes that a guy like him has no chance with a girl like you. What woman would be interested in a bald man who has a robotic hand and locks himself away in his work? No gal that's who.

Engie fantasizes about working up the courage to flirt with you and ask you out, which would eventually lead to a rather sensual night spent together. He did try to ask you out once but miserably failed. Engie kept stuttering and mispronouncing words out of nervousness while attempting to seduce you. You couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Thankfully, Demo had the heart to pull Engie out of that mess of a conversation and save him from further embarrassing himself.

So now, he just admires you from afar. Dreaming that one day he'll get to win your heart.

Spy

Surprisingly, he wants to get to know you as soon as possible. It's not every day you get to meet a lovely lady.

When he learns of your class type, oh boy, this man will make you question if you're even meant to be the Seductress.

"Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Do you know why they call Paris the city of love? Why don't I take you there and show you?"

"If the verb ‘to love’ didn’t exist, I would have invented it upon seeing you."

Spy leaves your entire face red and completely frozen after he's done talking to you. He's so flattering and charismatic. In comparison to the other men, he makes it seem like they're not trying at all. It isn't their fault, though, Spy is a natural at wooing the ladies.

You're surprised when Spy gifts you things that you really like. You never shared these intimate details with him before or with the other mercenaries. When you asked him how he knew what you specifically liked, Spy merely winks at you and grins. He has a way of receiving information without anyone knowing.

He has a tendency to kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are greeting each other. Spy is a gentleman and can't help himself to be sweet to a beautiful woman.

When Spy asks you out on a date, you agree to it because you have been meaning to go out. You felt like you'd go insane if you stayed in the base any longer. You put on your best dress and left with Spy into town.

After having a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, both of you give into temptation. Spy could hardly keep his hands off you when he drove you both back to the base. All your clothes came off the moment you reached his bedroom. You found it a little strange he refused to take off his mask. Oh, what the hell. He's hot and treated you to a nice date.

In the morning, you receive uncomfortable stares from the other mercenaries. Let's just say you and Spy weren't exactly quiet during your lovemaking. Unfortunately for the others, you decided Spy would become your fuck buddy.

Medic

He's been meaning to include a female subject in his experiments- I mean, he's glad to meet you!

You try your best to steer clear of him. However, on the front lines, it isn't so easy. When you're constantly getting shot at and stabbed by enemies, you'll need the Medic's help to get better.

When he sees you in action, Medic feels a new emotion that he's never felt before. Is this.. love? Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just lust.

Medic has never been infatuated with any woman. Except you. The way you lure in these pathetic men with your good looks and false promises, only to kill them afterwards- oh God, it makes him giddy. He feels like a schoolboy all over again!

Medic does routine check-ups on you. To make sure all your lady parts are in working order. In reality, this perverted fuck wants to have an excuse to grope you. Always gaslights you into believing he's not being a degenerate.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Why, of course! Breast cancer isn't something to take lightly!" He'd respond. You would understand, but after thirty minutes of him fondling your breasts, you knew what his true intentions were.

Medic writes you love letters and his dove, Archimedes, deliver them to you.

The letters start off relatively sweet. Medic writes that he views you as a Goddess, a truly ethereal being that is too perfect for this world filled with lesser mortals. And how he's the only man truly worthy for you.

Then, the letters take a complete turn the more you read it. He writes how he wishes to fulfill every filthy fantasy he's ever had with you. Oh boy, the list is long. For one, Medic wants to tie you down, gag you, and breed you like the filthy whore you are. Another consited of how he wants to fuck you on the battlefield while you're bleeding out and fingering your open wound as if it was your pussy.

You've stopped reading his letters and tend to light them on fire.

Demoman

"So, how much do you regularly charge for a quick shag?" He'd ask you before laughing his ass off.

Demo will never take you or your work seriously. Even if you politely ask him to.

He doesn't see what's so hard about showing off your tits and saying how much you love to suck cock. Demo believes you should've been a stripper if you wanted to tease men so desperately.

You frequently explain to him in detail how you help and provide for the team. You honestly can't tell if Demo deliberately forgets or because he gets drunk so often, he hardly pays attention to you while you talk.

Don't worry, though. After you've instilled the fear of women into him, he'll be gladly reminded that he shouldn't judge or ridicule a woman. If his mother were here, she'd knock some sense into him.

Demo apologizes to you, drinks, gets drunk, and apologies some more

"I'm sorry, lassie! It's just that I just get so lonely sometimes! What woman would give me, a one-eyed freak, a chance!"

He bawls on the floor, crying in front of you. You attempt to cheer him up by comforting him. Instead, you end up getting drunk with him.

Did you shag him in the heat of the moment? That's all up to you ;)

Pyro

Has no idea what you're doing to the enemy. Anything sexual you do is translated as innocent in their vision. Will never know what real seduction or sex.

Luckily, they think everything you do is nice and polite!

Regularly gives you grotesque gifts, which are usually human hearts and bones. You begrudgingly take the gifts because you know they mean well and don't wish to be disrespectful.

Pyro has a tendency to go through your closet when you leave your room. Or while you're sleeping. Either why, they steal your clothing and belongings. They pick out outfits and wigs they like along with makeup supplies. You wonder where you placed your dress and immediately begin searching for it. Maybe you left it in the laundry room. As soon as you exit your room, you see Pyro wearing your clothing over their suit. Fake eyelashes have been glued onto their eyes, and lipstick smeared all over the breathing hole.

You can't even be upset with Pyro. They're doing their best.

You let Pyro keep the dress they're wearing, considering it most likely wouldn't fit you anymore.

[thewertsearch]

He asks if you have a good winter hat. You nearly drop the radio in excitement.

Dave’s on his way too, so they can all play in the snow together.

Plus, Jade'll get to reunite with her 'grandson's' bunny, and we might finally get some movement on that plotline.

You wonder if it will always be like this. What sort of future does a new god have to look forward to? Will this malaise follow you for eternity? Will you be perpetually tempted to destroy everything you see, knowing that in just a few moments of recklessness, you will be left with nothing else to destroy forever? What will eternity feel like when a single moment of boredom feels like an eternity unto itself?

Some introspection here from the Sovereign Slayer, as Noir seems dimly aware that he’s under some sort of compulsion. He was created to be a violent murderer, and he's programmed to play that role in every session – which is fine by him.

But he was never meant to be a superboss. For hours now, he’s been operating entirely outside his normal parameters. He's wielding a power transcending this and every session, but he's stuck with the programming of a mid-level NPC. He's built to kill, as usual - but his destructive potential is too great, and he's killing too much, too fast.

There’s a mismatch here, and he can feel it.

You wish you could consult the clouds for answers. But they never show you anything.

More evidence that only Prospit-aligned beings can use Skaia's clouds.

Sorry, Jack. They're not for you.

You are now future Jack Noir. Presently, you are trapped in a single moment, which increasingly feels like an eternity. Your boredom is surpassed only by your all consuming rage and contempt for existence itself.

There's that bloody arm again, and it might be time to talk about it.

Now, technically, it could have come from almost anyone in the kids' session. The Carapacians all have red blood - but the thing is, all the notable Carapacians will escape the session safely. I think it's a pretty safe bet that the blood belongs to to one of the four kids - so who's our most likely target?

Well...

John was unharmed immediately before the Scratch, but that doesn’t preclude Jack from attacking him during its activation. It feels narratively climactic for the kids' semi-official leader to be mortally wounded while saving the session, and I think there's a decent chance that something like this will go down in the Act 5 finale.

Rose, of course, is soon to fall into the Blackout. I've been speculating that it could potentially hide her from Jack, but it's also possible that he could cause it himself. If he does attack her, she might be compelled to use more of the Horrorterrors’ power than she can control - and I can see that going south fast.

Dave's tied up in several days' worth of time loops, and it'd be hard to take him by surprise. We've probably heard from versions of Future Dave who know what caused the blood, and I think if he was about to be maimed, he'd be a lot more on-edge. Dave tries to hide his nerves, but he's not actually that good at it.

Jade can’t be harmed by Jack, which makes her the most interesting choice of all. I don't know how Jack could conquer the remnants of Becsprite in his heart - but if he does, we'll have lost the biggest advantage we have.

I'm honestly not sure. Right now, I think John's the most likely target - but not by much. Really, it could really be anyone.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞 Heatwave

Who said every omega needs an alpha?

Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, angst, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex, smut, multiple rounds, knotting, biting!, messy

Length: 2.5k

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Agony.

Jungkook can feel the growing frustration between you both as your heats collide, apartment already stuffy with the smell of your past pitiful attempts at soothing any of the bubbling hunger. But it's no use- you both can't seem to find any release from one another, and the smell of your combined misery is making it all just so much worse, continuously putting fuel into the fire that's trying to consume you both whole.

He wants to help you. You want to help him- but maybe this is the proof you both had wanted to overlook when it came to your relationship, and the future of it all. Or, rather, the lack of a future.

Do you need an alpha after all?

He finds you sleeping on the bathroom floor now, trying desperately to cool off again as your fever hits and burns you from the inside. He himself doesn't have such severe symptoms since he's learned to just endure, and his body is able to handle the effects a lot better than yours. Male Omegas don't go through the exact same process as females do, and he's reminded of that right now.

And he hates it. He hates that he wants to help you, provide, comfort you- but he's equally as distressed over the entire situation, brought to a breaking point.

He's sitting close to you now, and you instantly cling onto him, laying your head in his lap- seeking him out, despite the pure failure of his attempts at being your perfect partner.

"I can call Yoongi-" he offers, despite his own mind screaming at him not to. He doesn't want anybody near you, not in this state, since he's your mate- but if you need someone else to help you get through this, he will bow down and cave in.

"No!" You instantly complain despite your need for someone to offer you aid, shaking your head because this is another issue Jungkook has been noticing ever since your shared heat began. You absolutely do not want anyone but Jungkook around, refuse to let anyone else inside this apartment. He himself is lost by now- he obviously can't force you to accept Yoongis help, but he also knows by now that he is not enough.

Has he cursed you now with your love for him, a person who cannot give you what you need? He feels guilty.

And neither can you offer him any release- and it's starting to weigh on you heavily, he knows that. It makes his frustration grow, makes his instincts harder to control, makes his body feel heavy.

He can't just give it up like this. He loves you- why can't that be enough?!

An hour later, you're both back in bed, entangled in the sheets already soiled with your slick and tears and sweat, and he's trying, he really is. One last time, giving it his all, summoning all the strength he can find in himself. He can't let you go like this, not until he's forced to admit defeat. He can love you right. He can be your person.

His muscles are aching, trembling beneath his skin as he tries desperately to tip over the edge. But he can't.

It's not enough.

He's so close to giving up. He can't put you through this any longer.

"I love you..!" He pushes out between his clenched teeth, leaning into the crook of your neck, kissing open mouthed, your skin long bruised and bitten, but its no use. Even now, as he pushes his hips as deep as he can, your legs trying to keep him going, he can't do anything about it. "I love you so much.." He breaks down, crying because the defeat consumes him as he realizes his strength is leaving him.

His body is so heavy. He feels like he weighs tons now.

You hook your ankles together over his back before your own hips begin to move desperately, thrusting upwards in a rapid pace, urgency clear in the way you act as your arousal stains your shared skin yet again- body desperate for anything. "Baby..-" he wants to argue, the sight of your frustrated tears top much to handle, but you shake your head, suddenly charging at him to change positions.

You can't let him give up like this. You're enough, and so is he. You have to make this work- because if you don't, what's gonna happen to you both?

You're on top of him now, clinging to him, hips smacking loudly down onto him, cock painfully sensitive at this point.

He wants to tell you to stop, that it's useless, but he's clinging onto hope as well as he lets you try and help. He's offering his own aid to keep you moving, hands having a grip that will surely bruise after this pitiful attempt, but he can't help it any longer.

This is torture.

Suddenly, you cry out, a sound so broken it hurts him deep inside his soul. You're sobbing, and he's crying too, when you suddenly bite him, hard, a sense of desperate aggression with it-

And you hold on, you keep your canines in his skin until it breaks and the taste of iron fills your mouth.

But you can't really comprehend anything past that moment really, because Jungkook has suddenly been possessed by something you're not sure of, a growl leaving him as he manhandles you around, hands and knees unable to keep yourself upright after these past exhausting few days as he's turned you over, but it doesn't matter. His hands under your body, right beneath your stomach, keep you upright as he pushes himself back inside you, arms moving to hold you close, bring you into proper position to bite you back-

-just as much force involved, heavy breaths exhaling out of his nose while he moves his hips at a rapid pace, your release sudden, and erratic, causing you to cry out into the blankets below in absolute euphoria, fingers gripping the sheets as you finally tip over the edge, staining the sheets and his skin in the process.

And so does Jungkook, letting go of your neck now to almost whimper himself as his knot forms, arms pulling you closer, balls tightening as your spasming core brings him to his first release in days.

His brain is empty, nothing there but instincts as he licks over your neck to soothe your wound, your warm skin and soft sighs calming down his breathing, before he's slowly loosing to the exhaustion, both of you falling to your sides on the disheveled bed, his knot keeping you both connected for quite a while as he spurts his cum into you, before he's finally able to slip out of you.

You're gaping, white release of his leaking out in small waves, and his hand instantly moves to lazily push it back in.

Something's happened. This is different. He feels different- do you as well?

You do.

His hand on your core is heavenly to you, fingers rubbing his cum over your sensitive center making you open your legs immediately, and he pulls himself up into a different position, helping his still hard length back inside you from his laid down position behind you.

What's going on?

As if a veil has lifted, numbness resolved, his skin is suddenly tingling. He feels every muscle inside you hugging his length, no urgency no more as he fucks you slowly, cum stained sheets no bother to him as his now free hands hold your chest, before he angles your face enough to kiss you.

A spark, sharp and bright, and now he's no longer blind to it all. Like a bandaid ripped off in one go. Bitter medicine taken with one gulp. First it's bad, but it's just a moment- and after it, comes the better part. The relief. The tranquility.

This orgasm is softer, calming, relaxing, as you milk him for all he's got.

You both finally sleep after this moment, for quite a while, before you wake up once more, your legs sleepily kicking away the soiled sheets. Jungkook watches, mesmerized, how you roll around happily, playfully reaching out to touch him, his skin, smiling with eyes full of love. He's not sure what's happened. His own mind is hazy, and he can't bring himself to form any serious thoughts.

All he knows is that you're happy, and that makes him just as happy in return.

You shiver, and his instincts kick in.

Instantly he begins to nest, forms a secure wall of blankets around your body before he joins you in it all, body shielding you, holding you, another blanket over you both. His kisses are soft, barely felt, but they're there, and they're making you purr softly, a sound he believes to be heaven.

You're happy. He made you happy. He made it.

Who the hell needs an alpha?

You're riding him not even an hour after, no urgency at all, just pure pleasure chased as he leans his head back into the pillows, eyes closed, your hands in his. This feels better than any heat he's experienced before, your hips rolling and jumping just right every time, as he pulls you closer, hugs you against his chest, and angles his heels into the bed below to thrust up into you, your lips kissing the wound you've caused, sensitive skin causing him to erupt in goosebumps before he cums without a knot this time, release still fulfilling, you yourself whining as he watches your thighs shake from the force of your own orgasm that you ride out to its fullest.

And when he lifts you up for his length to slip out, cum and your arousal leaking out, he's hypnotized, hand reaching out to touch you, helping you lay down next to him, as he gives you one more soft moment of pleasure, before you both just enjoy yourselves again.

The heat is no longer there. It's no longer suffocating inside this room, despite the smells and stuffy air. This feels safe. Comfortable. Relaxing.

He's got you. You have him, as well.

What more do you need?

The day after, he's finally a little more clear in his head, helping you change the sheets and put what's soiled in the wash, before he has you on his lap, barely dressed in panties and a shirt, eating a small meal and drinking something to rehydrate yourself. He can't help but stare at your neck, a very distinctive mark amongst all the bruising attempts he'd made, a little red around the edges, puncture points scabbed over.

It looks just like an alpha's mark. Will it stay, too?

He's seen his own mark you've left, and it looks equally as similar. But that can't be true, can it?

"You both alright?" Comes Yoongis voice from the speaker of his phone, set on the table close by as Jungkook helps you turn around on his lap to lean against his chest now, as you're still in clear need of physical comfort. "I was wondering how you're doing." He says, and Jungkook runs his hands over your back as you seek his warmth, head resting against him.

"Something happened." Jungkook says, holding you securely, exhaustion still heavy in his bones. "And I.. I'm unsure what exactly went down." He reveals.

"I hope you're both okay." Yoongi worries, and Jungkook adjusts you a little.

"We are. I think?" He sighs. "I'm not sure."

"What happened?" Yoongi asks, something clattering in the background, before a door opening and closing is heard in the background.

"We had.. issues. For the most part." Jungkook admits. "I was close to giving up, I really was. Because she was.. just suffering so much, and I was scared.." He explains, before he remembers that one breaking point. "…and then she bit me, you know, in the same spot she always does- but.. it was different. Things are different now- it feels.. odd." He admits.

"She claimed you?" Yoongi wonders, before he chuckles. "Didn't think she had it in her." He jokes.

"She's a pure omega though? Just like I am." Jungkook asks, confused.

"Did you finish the bond?" Yoongi wonders on the other end of the line- and Jungkook looks at your mark, before he answers.

"I mean.. I think? I bit her back just as hard, and now her mark looks the same as mine." He explains.

"So you did. Well, congrats." He says, voice noticeably lighter now. "I can look at it once you both are out of heat if you want, but it does sound like a proper bond to me." He hums.

"…I've never had one before, so I can't tell." Jungkook confesses. And it's true- he's never been bonded to anyone before you came, and he's never even wanted to be bonded to anyone before you either. This is new. A little frightening.

"Like I said, I'll take a look once you're both back out the cave." Yoongi laughs. "I hope you're otherwise alright? Do you need anything?"

"She ate something, and I got a bottle of water into her." Jungkook chuckles, feeling a bit better now that he's spoken to someone.

"And you?" The alpha wonders, catching him off guard. Jungkook isn't asked often how he feels or what he needs- its another thing he's still learning, another thing that's new when it comes to you. Because you care for him and about him- you're so nurturing towards him that it feels a little like he shouldn't accept it.

"I.. I ate too, don't worry." Jungkook offers a little unsteady because of that.

"Alright. I'll still have Jiminie drop off some stuff for you later today. Just to make sure." He says, and Jungkook feels a little warm.

"Okay. Thank you." Jungkook says.

"No problem. I consider you both part of the pack, after all." Yoongi laughs easily.

"Pack?" Jungkook wonders, the word making even you open your eyes a bit, eyes on the phone on the table.

"Hmhm. It's an alpha thing, don't worry about it." He simply chuckles, before he offers his goodbyes, and hangs up.

And somehow, after hearing that- Jungkook realizes he's never had to face any of this alone. He's always had support all around him- he just had this agenda drilled into him ever since he was a pup that he had to do things on his own, or otherwise they won't be his achievements. The only way to be something, was to be something all by yourself.

But, with you in his arms, happily leaning into him, he realizes, that that's not true.

He's not alone, not on his own, and he's apparently capable of so much more than what he's been told.

And you're so, so special to him.

So special in fact, that apparently, you've broken yet another stereotype with nothing but your love, raw and untamed.

You're bonded.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 4

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You shiver and hide behind your eyelids. The air swirls around you in a cyclone as you clasp to the icy metal against you. You can't believe this is happening and yet your imminent doom cannot be denied. 

You squeal as Tony lets you go. You squeeze him tighter, knowing you won't be able to hold on forever. Not with the whipping winds and bone-deep chill.  

You brace yourself, trembling, and your feet meet solid ground. A gentle tap on your side has you tearing away as the dearth of sound and motion hits you like a truck. You look at Tony in defiance, your embarrassment curdling just under your skin. 

"That was fun," he chuckles as his mask retracts to reveal a taunting smirk. 

"Whatever. Go back to New York, I'll find my way--" 

You turn and swallow your words. Your grandmother's house is right behind you. You peer around and push your shoulders back. You really aren't winning this one. 

"Can't say I never did anything for ya. Lot quicker than the bus," he snorts. 

"Oh," you spin back to him, "so you think this makes us even?" 

"It's a start," he shrugs. "Now," he holds his wrist up as if to check the time and a projection casts from a microscopic projector. He swipes through the wall of text as a lens extends from his suit and hovers in front of his eyes. "If I'm gonna get that trailer, I need to speak with the leasee, a Darlene? Is that mommy?" 

You suck in your cheeks and puff out through you nose. It's like pulling wisdom teeth but you're getting somewhere. You put your hands on your hips and nod. 

"Yeah, I'll go see if she's home." 

"You know, I'm not sure how things work around here," he lowers his arm as the projection disappears and the lens folds back into his suit, "not sure about how things work around here but typically when someone brings you home, you invite them inside." 

You stare at him, your brows arching. He scoffs and tilts his head. 

"Tell ya what, I'll even dust my boots off." 

He kicks his feet and brushes his metal gauntlets of his chest place. All at once the suit folds into itself. You frown and examine him, trying to figure out where it's hiding under his blazer. He straightens his tie and comes out his hair with his fingers.  

"There, all dolled up to meet mom," he winks.  

You chew your lip. He's annoying but he says he's going to help. Besides, you'd rather he deal with your mom and be done with him. 

"Fine, come on." 

You turn and march away. He snickers and follows, "so hospitable." 

"Well, sorry to disappoint but we don't have a butler." You go up onto the low porch and pull open the screen door with a squeak. 

"Huh, that really what you think of me?" He grabs the door above your head as you unlock the inner one. "I sit in my ass all day and drink champagne and smoke cigars? I'll have you know I do all that and save the world when it comes calling " 

"Mm, got it." You drone as you push inside, "mom? Grandma? We got company." 

"Really rolling out that red carpet," he scoffs. 

"Stay here," you say as you head down the hall. 

"You know I don't usually take orders," he intones, his voice drifting off into words you can't make out clearly, "...kinda hot..." 

You don't think it's too bad. Your grandma's place is usually blistering in the summer but it's just about tolerable today. Her bedroom door is closed, signalling she's probably sleeping, but your mother isn't where you expect to her. Her ash tray is on the table but the kitchen is empty. 

The back door is open. You swing open the screen and lean out. She's puffing a cigarette over your grandmother's pansies. 

"Mom, someone's here about the trailer." 

"Tell the damn landlord I'm not payin' til I get a new one," she snarls. 

"It's not him." You insist. 

"Huh, insurance peddler?" She butts out the smoke on the wooden railing, leaving the stub there. 

"Tony Stark." You answer bluntly. 

She cackles, "fucking smart ass. Go away." 

You state at her and she scowls. She huffs and tramps over to you. You hold the door for her and she enters. 

"You and your goddamn jokes..." she grumbles as she crosses the kitchen.  

You stay a few feet back as you follow. She stumbles to a halt as she reaches the doorway. She coughs and looks at you over her shoulder, "holy shit." 

You shrug and shoo her with your fingers. 

"Darlene, wonderful to meet you," Tony sounds almost charming as his footfalls creak on the floorboards. 

"Mr. Stark," she preens. You haven't heard that simper in ages. "What are you doing here?" 

"Well, I did say I'd fix what I broke." He explains. "Really unfortunate what happened. Sometimes we can't avoid a little collateral but just happy no one was hurt." 

"Of course," she chimes. "Well, it wasn't much but it was our home." 

"Humble," he praises. "Your daughter has been a great help too. Such a lovely girl." 

"Eh, oh, I s'pose," her voice slants with uncertainty.  

"We got a lot of details to go over. I had my people come up with some options but I want you to be happy so I'll leave the choice up to you. Gonna take a bit so how about I order dinner. My treat, of course." He pauses and you peek put from the kitchen. He smirks past your mother, "you like pizza?" 

"Oh, Mr. Stark how generous. Whatever you like is good enough for us." She giggles. You wince. She doesn't giggle. 

You retreat back into the kitchen. She's just like those kids clamouring for autographs and the star-struck residents completely unbothered by the burning ruin. They don't see anything but him. 

[kamig4mes]

We need friendship headcannons with kisski and hanma it can be seperated or as an trio,you can make one platonic and one as an love interest i dont really care!!!

I'm still excited that you made this request, anon bc this duo has been making eyes at me these days. I thought about kisakixhanmaxfem!reader. I'm so sorry for the wait!! I hope u like it, nd enjoy it!

#pov: friendship headcanons with Kisaki and Hanma (platonic/love interest)

★ warnings: fem!reader, realistic hc, fluff, funny, friendship, love interest, established relationship, platonic facts, school mention

→ a/n: H&K = Hanma and Kisaki

—friendship (+ platonic facts)!

The three go and return together wherever they go, both boys coming to pick you up at the entrance of your house and leaving you at the same even when classes are over! This pair makes sure you're in one piece by the end of the day.

The races to determine the unnecessary speed between you are never lacking. A few meters to enter the school, Hanma challenges them to a race to see who gets there first and you accept, and as always you do the countdown.

"Alright! in your marks, read-.. HUH?!

And before you know it Hanma took the dirty lead by shooting out first, taking the lead and leaving you biting the dust

"STOP, STUPID CHEATER!"

You run in search of him screaming complaints between laughs trying to reach him while Kisaki just keeps walking at his pace like the normal person he is, catching up with them minutes later.

At least three times a month they attend karaoke together. They try to use all the power of friendship possible to convince Kisaki to go together, trying not to upset him with his nonsense the previous days. After two attempts, the blonde accepts, renting the most minimal time rate they have to stop listening to the stormy concerts that you and Hanma give it.

It's natural for Hanma to bother you every day, almost as if that's his mission in this life. Sometimes it makes you very angry, is Kisaki who intervenes asking to stop. But once both stoics made you cry out of pure rage so you stopped talking to them for a whole week. They both spent that time following you around in silence and apologizing by buying your favorite sweets.

Hanma accompanies you to almost any nonsense you can think of, until it puts the three of them in a bad position. The bicolor loves the adrenaline rush, but if he feels that his asses can end up in difficult problems to handle he absolutely aborts the mission.

H&K are your protectors. Whether with intimidating looks/postures or verbal threats, both guys make it clear to everyone that you are their best friend and they can't try any moves on you. Yes, that's the way they are.

That's why Valentine's Days were really sad for you because, for some alien reason, you didn't receive any gifts or letters that day. Much less declarations of love or anonymous confessions. NOTHING. And the reason is that in reality, H&K were furtively responsible for eliminating (not literally) anyone who tried to make any move on you regarding the date, the two allying themselves to scare away and intimidate.

"I'm sorry, brat" explains the bicolor blocking the way to the classroom to the boy one grade below you "this girl is already busy"

"B-but I-"

"And don't try anything behind our backs, or you won't want to regret it later," Kisaki muttered, making the poor trembling boy pass out loud saliva when he clattered his knuckles noisily.

This is how your two best friends were always there to comfort you and fill that void of the day with walks or gifts only from them.

The three of them would run away from classes, but only when they are extremely bored of listening to the teacher.

H&K care a lot about your health, even if it doesn't seem like it. They offer you water or some nutritious drink, buy you breakfast and even make sure that you don't consume a lot of fried foods or sweets.

Their jobs are close to each other, so it's easy for the three of them to meet at a specific place and then stop by for a drink or just walk home.

—(+) platonic facts!

The first time H&K saw you wearing a swimsuit for a beach meet-up that you organized with your friends, they gasped. Kisaki felt that her face would explode because of how good your body looked while Hanma quickly glanced at you every time you passed by him.

H&K are the kind of guy in love who contemplates you at every opportunity he can. Kisaki by his observant and discreet nature manages to spy without being seen by anyone while Hanma does it blatantly without caring if it's very obvious or not. You actually caught him once seeing you, and his reaction was to let out a little giggle and look away when he realized that you caught him. You could notice the soft blush on his cheeks.

They enjoy taking pictures of you doing random things. Especially Hanma (he has a whole album of you and kisaki on his phone), and only occasionally Kisaki warns for a good take.

"Take out your phone, Shuji"

"Huh? And for what the hell-?"

"Look over there, is y/n"

Kisaki points at you covertly, and the two-tone nods, catching his friend's intention as he quickly pulled out his phone. Seconds later the flash does its job. They both smile seeing you captured on the screen.

"Good angle" celebrates the blonde "very cute.."

"Yea' she looks fcking beautiful"

Yes, whether it's taking you or going to pick you up, taking a walk to the park for a while and things like that, at first H&K keep track of which one of the two has to share time with you. That's why it's not uncommon for you to feel that they take turns.

Kisaki would leave you a lot of small gifts throughout the week anonymously because he is embarrassed to deliver them to you in person. At first you thought it could be a stalker with ninja skills because you couldn't catch him in the act, but soon (and in the dumbest way) you found out it was the blond one (I have a little pov for this hc, I'll upload it after this!)

—love interest!

Hanma calls you "baby" most of the time, and would use adorable nicknames like "babydoll" or "fcking princess" just to annoy you. I'm not sure with Kisaki, I think "honey" might work for him. But both of them, without a doubt, call you "darling" a lot of the time.

Hanma, unlike Kisaki, is more concerned about your feminine needs. I feel like he has a sharper sense for that kind of thing. On the other hand, you can safely entrust the financial part to Kisaki because that man will cover all your whims.

Maximum princess treatment with some moments of rough love (the latter courtesy of Shuji Hanma). They like to pamper and pamper you a lot, just allow yourself to enjoy it.

On dates YES OR YES the three of you go together. And the one who is usually planning spontaneous outings is Hanma. For more important events that require more planning (such as special dates) Kisaki takes care of, for the rest of the outings/appointments he just gets carried away by the rhythm of you two.

Their plans for an intimate afternoon is to warm up the three of them together between sheets and sweets while watching eternal marathons of movies or documentaries (hanma falls asleep after two films and you always wake him up before the marathon ends so that Kisaki doesn't notice).

Their first date as official couples was at an amusement park by your decision. It was quite an exhausting day for the three of them but they would be able to repeat it a thousand more times if with that they manage to see the exact definition of happiness in each other's smiles again.

When you and Hanma start a tickle fight, you run away in the direction of Kisaki's private studio hiding behind him because he never allows Hanma to enter that place. And you know it very well. That place is your safe zone. But once you take one foot out of there your immunity ends, and Hanma makes sure to get revenge by cornering you between the sofa and him with no escape option. Kisaki gives a soft smile when he hears them laughing in the distance.

At the same time, you and Hanma are good partners, teaming up as an unconscious act to make fun of anything Kisaki says or does.

Broadly speaking Kisaki in a refined, calculating, thoughtful, more elegant and formal type than any ordinary person. In this way he manages to keep his surroundings (and his inner world) under control and at peace. But unfortunately Kisaki can not go against the hyperstimulated souls of their partners. So when a situation in which his presence is completely protagonist and necessary gets stressed. Specifically because the ideas you and Hanma come up with can become terrifyingly exhausting for him. Going to fairs, concerts, parties, birthdays and similar events these are some examples.

Kisaki harbors a buttery side that melts faster when she's resting in your arms, whether you're stroking her hair or listening to her thoughts out loud. Not with this he says that he loves you more than Hanma, only you transmit to him a greater warmth and security compared to the noisy and annoying immature actions of the languid boy. Hanma, in turn, gets cheesier when she's alone with you. He feels that he can release his more cloying cuteness with you because he knows that you tolerate that kind of treatment more, and that you are not going to reject him or get irritated like it happens when he tries to be the same way with Kisaki. Still, none of you have preferences, all three of you love each other equally.

Hanma shows them how much he loves them and how important they are to him by spending quality time together: walks in the fresh air, outings to eat, watching movies at the cinema or at home, playing with board games/video games, etc. Anything that allows him to share his time with the two of you he will put into practice. Kisaki, on the other hand, applies physical contact: hands on the waist, caressing sessions, linked fingers, kisses on random areas of the body, massages, etc. In these ways Kisaki tries to convey to both of you all the love and appreciation he feels for you two, showing you a side that he doesn't have with anyone else.

Of course, this pair is a dangerous bombshell of jealousy and possession. Oh yeah, anyone who tries to step out of the line or even flirt with you won't have any functional organ or limb left to tell about it.

They also don't like to share you with others, no matter if it's your family or friends. Hanma is the most impatient and impulsive of the three, he won't even spend two hours when he's already holding your hand to take you with him and get you out of wherever you are without letting you properly excuse yourself. Kisaki is more patient and serene, entertaining his mind with other things until he can't stand it anymore and demands that you return by means of a call or he just goes to look for you. You better not ignore this couple when jealousy gets the better of them, or you're not going to have a great time afterwards.

©2024 ／ ENJOY ♡ — aaaand I was finally able to finish it, I was too busy with classes 🥲🥲 I'll keep writing more about this trio eventually. Thank u for all your love and patience 🙌🏻 tkm

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

 "Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

 "Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—"  You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

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