#hoping I can make things fall into place…nothing seems to change for the better. and I’m sick of it!

[strohller27]

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[achenetype]

the place i left behind — luke castellan // explicit

luke is on the run. things would be going perfectly if only he could stay away from you.

pairing: luke castellan x reader

word count: 2.1k

content: smut/explicit content, oral (f receiving), slight choking, coming in pants, afab reader, unclaimed reader, weed mention, a bit of angst but it’s all for the plot

🎧: the place i left behind by the deep dark woods

it was a bad idea for luke to come back to camp. you knew it; he knew it better. returning after what he had done wasn’t just stupid — it was a death sentence.

but here he is, tapping on the window of the cabin you used to share.

you meet his eyes through the warped glass and his face curls upward into a lazy smile. hey, he mouths. it knocks the wind out of you, sudden and disarming; seeing that familiar grin makes your chest ache.

“hey,” you whisper back, knowing he can’t hear you. hoping he can read your lips, knowing you won’t get your breath back until you can see him face-to-face.

outside? luke says, gesturing to the door of the cabin. moonlight falls in bars through the windows, illuminating a stripe across the worn brass doorknob.

you nod. the simple motion makes you nauseous. this isn’t safe. you’re going to get caught. you’re going to get him caught, and then—

you’re standing in front of the door before you know it. cold brass meets your fingertips and you bite your tongue, pretending you don’t feel how your hands shake as you turn the knob with a soft click.

outside, it's hot and humid. the air seems to hang in place for a split-second before luke is on you; his arms wrap around you and his face finds a home in the crook of your neck. this close, you can feel him breathing, feel the muscles shift as he inhales and exhales.

your fingertips roll over luke’s back — over his deltoids, those powerful ropes of tissue hooked into the bones of his shoulders. you joked about him being missing a pair of wings before, but that was before this.

before you could feel exactly how much potential he had shifting under his skin. before he squeezes you and murmurs into your pulse, “shit, angel, i missed you.”

hearing that nickname from his mouth feels like someone has ripped a hole in everything you are. luke smells like sweat and sunscreen and just a hint of weed smoke, and he missed you.

“i missed you too,” you breathe, and luke reaches up to hold your face in his hands. his forehead presses to yours, his dark curls damp against your skin. the bridge of his nose brushes yours, quick, barely-there.

you pull back, lacing your fingers with his, and he follows. it’s almost like nothing’s changed, you think, the two of us sneaking out, the closeness. the rhythm between the two of you picks up just like it would any other day.

except luke’s hair is longer, creeping uncut towards his eyes, and there are new scars on his hands and his back. there’s a knife on his belt and the outline of a gun — a mortal gun — silhouetted through the white fabric of his tank top, the metal of it still cold despite being pressed against his stomach—

you wonder if he knows how to use it. if he had lined up a shot, pressed the barrel against someone’s chest or forehead or the underside of their chin, and pulled the trigger. you wonder how luke’s face would look spattered with blood.

you wonder how it would feel to wipe that blood off of him with your fingertips or a wet rag, sitting with his knees bracketing your hips, just like every other time you’d cleaned him up.

—and luke had never held you like that before; like he was afraid to lose you before you could even say one word to him. like crushing you to his chest would keep you there forever.

“why did you come back?” you ask, praying that he won’t say what you already know.

luke sighs and rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “you get right to the point, dont’cha?”

his voice is teasing, low enough that a few of his words blur together. y’get right to the point. his thumb moves in twisting, concentric circles around the ridges of your fingers. his eyes dart up to yours.

luke reaches to cradle your face again, his knuckles grazing your cheeks as his palms flatten, one at a time and molasses-slow, against your jaw. “i wanted to see you,” he says.

there it is.

you step back and luke follows, matching your steps until you feel the rough-hewn stone of the cabin wall against your back. “you shouldn’t be here,” you whisper.

that lazy grin finds its way onto luke’s face again. “what, you scared?”

you don’t respond, and luke tangles his fingers in your hair before pulling your forehead back to rest against his. “hey, are you— are you scared of me?” his voice falters; his thumb moves in tiny circles at the junction of your jawbone and your neck. he frowns. "angel, c'mon," he whispers.

you shake your head. tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to bleed. “i’m scared for you,” you breathe.

you reach up to cup luke’s face with your hands, mirroring his posture. “but i’m not scared of you.”

slowly, you wrap your fingers around luke’s wrist and drag his hand away from your face. his fingertips run down your neck, across your collarbones. his hands linger for a split-second longer around your chest before his palm flattens against your stomach and he leans forward.

luke stops at the loose hem of your camp shirt. “can i?” he murmurs, hooking two fingers under the fabric. his thumb resumes its movement over your hipbone, calluses catching on the exposed strap of your underwear.

“can i,” he repeats. “please, angel?”

this is a terrible idea. luke tried to kill you. he tried to kill your friends. he nearly started a war between the gods. he’s a traitor, a walking betrayal.

luke is your best friend, and you have missed him more than anything.

the soft yes barely leaves your mouth before luke steps forward that final inch, caging you against the wall.

his hands slip under your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you only briefly self-conscious before he finds your mouth with his. he kisses you hard, bruising, biting at your bottom lip. he makes a sound low in his throat, pulling you impossibly closer.

“i missed you,” he murmurs in the tiny pockets of air between your kisses. “fuck, angel, i missed you so much.”

“i know,” you say. i missed you too.

luke presses kisses to your lips and your cheeks. your jaw. the bridge of your nose. please stay.

he buries his face in your shoulder and laves his tongue over your pulse, drags his mouth from your neck to your collarbones to just above your navel. in his wake, a trail of reddish-purple bruises unfolds under your skin.

luke speaks in half-caught sentences into your skin. “i’m so sorry,” he whispers. “i miss you so much— so much, i’m sorry, angel.”

when he finally sinks to his knees in front of you, his lips slightly parted and his breath coming in shallow gasps, luke lets his head drop to rest against your hip. his pupils are blown wide, swallowing the brown of his irises with desperate, inky want.

“lemme taste you,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your exposed hip and stomach. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and continues murmuring into your skin.

your hand finds purchase against luke’s collarbone and slides to rest against his throat; you match his jugular vein with the junction of your thumb and your palm, stroking the sides of his neck gently.

his breath catches, his heartbeat fluttering wild and needy against your fingertips. you half-expect him to pull away or to move your hand and continue kissing his way down your body.

instead, luke tips his head back that extra inch, his gaze flicking up and down before finally holding yours. his eyes are glossy and his mouth is open. his chest heaves against your thigh, trying and failing to control his breathing.

“are you sure?” you ask softly.

luke nods so feverishly that you worry his head will split from his neck. “c’mon,” he murmurs. “you know i wouldn’t ask if i didn’t want it.”

you do know, and it’s for that exact reason that you slide your thumb over luke’s adam’s apple again, pressing down just enough to make him gasp. it’s a broken, strangled sound, breathy and rough, and he sings it into your hipbone as he drags your shorts down your legs. the fabric pools around your ankles, and luke closes what little space is left between you in an instant.

he hooks his fingers under the sides of your underwear, toying with the lace idly as he mouths at the ruined fabric covering your cunt.

“gods, luke,” you say softly, tangling one hand in his sweat-damp hair and tugging. it’s more to test the waters than anything, but luke groans and shifts underneath you, and—

—and he’s hard, rolling his hips into nothing, chasing friction that isn’t there. his eyes, half-lidded and glassy, meet yours. you shiver — luke’s eyes are dark and intense, barely containing the want that lights up both of your bodies.

gods, he’s pretty like this, too, you think. who knew boys could look so good on their knees in the dirt?

luke pulls your underwear to the side and presses a quick kiss to your clit, mumbling in half-sentences as he laves his tongue over your soaked cunt. “my darling,” he breathes, dragging his hand up your thigh and reaching between your legs, sliding two fingers into you easily. “my angel, my everything.”

you rock your hips against his face, tightening your grip on his hair — which must be crossing some wires in his brain, because he shudders and points his tongue, flicking it against your clit as he curls his fingers.

“luke,” you gasp, tension building in your stomach. “i— i’m close, luke, please.”

luke looks up at you and smiles. you can feel his dimples against your inner thighs for a split second before he doubles down on his efforts, licking and sucking until something inside you snaps and you cum with a stifled moan, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

between your legs, luke licks his lips. “beautiful,” he says. his voice is raspy and he takes a deep breath, in-out, in-out. “there’s my girl. there you are, baby.”

you slowly sink to your knees next to him, your heart thudding against your rib cage like a trapped bird. “luke,” you whisper.

“yeah, angel?” he asks, wrapping one arm around you and tugging you closer. his fingers trace unseen patterns on the expanse of your thigh and you shuffle closer still to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. you can taste his sweat, electric and desperate. the smell of sex is probably all over both of you.

there’s a dark spot on the front of luke’s shorts and he tenses up when you slide your hand up his thigh. “did you— just from that?” you ask.

“oh, shit,” luke says, looking down. “uh— fuck, angel, i—”

“it’s okay,” you say, leaning forward to press your forehead to his again.

he sighs, tangling his fingers back into your hair. “i know.”

the two of you stay like that for what could have been minutes or hours before luke presses a kiss to your jaw and murmurs, “i have to go.”

something in your chest twists. the words slip out before you can stop them: “i don’t want you to.” you press your nose into luke’s hair and inhale the smell of sweat, of smoke. your fingers find the straps of luke’s tank top. look at this barrier. look at what’s keeping you apart.

“you know i can’t,” he murmurs, and you swear the crack in his voice breaks your heart all over again.

"i know," you say, tucking your head into his chest. "but i don't want you to go." you look up.

luke's eyes sparkle, brilliant and terrible, and when he kisses your forehead you can feel tears landing in tiny constellations across your head. "you deserve better," luke whispers. "better than me. than all of this."

do i? you ask yourself. and: do i want it?

when luke kisses you one last time and stands, drawing his sword out of nowhere, you know it as well as he does: you don't want better.

when he leaves — when there is nothing for days, when your dreams are haunted by the memory of his lips against yours and the smell of his hair, you know.

you only want luke.

[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL, no smut in this part but part 4👀

taglist: @ghost-lantern @mreowmoreww @maomaimao @ahano @haileycannotcometothephonern @amberbalcom14 @fire-in-her-veinz @roserfz27 @that-sounds-stupid

PART THREE (click here for part 2)

Miguel remains unmoving for what seems like hours.

He’s cleaned himself up; now changed into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie — one of your favorites that you like to steal. He’s not bothered to make dinner for himself, limbs glued to the couch.

His mind wonders how your date is going, delirious with fantasy how your date might be treating you. Probably gotten you better flowers, a better gift, maybe even a reservation at that restaurant which recently opened in upper Manhattan, most likely beating your favorite italian place in downtown Brooklyn.

His whirling thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a key twisting through the lock.

Miguel frowns, glancing at his phone for the time.

It’s only 10:24pm.

Turning, he finds you walking through the door before shutting it behind you and taking your heels off with haste. Miguel hears you groan with satisfaction as you waddle over to the couch.

“Hey.”

He notices that you have no flowers, not even a gift. The purse that you had taken for the night is now discarded on the coffee table without a second thought, your exhausted body sinks onto the couch next to Miguel with an empty sigh.

“You’re back early.” He figures he won’t even try to not state the obvious.

“Yeah.” You mumble, looking down and fiddling with your hands. “It was a quick date.”

He raises a brow. “Quick?”

You shrug. “Yeah, we went to that new posh bistro near Manhattan.”

Miguel internally curses. He was right after all.

“Was it good?”

“It was alright. I didn’t eat much though.”

“Why not?”

“Nothing looked interesting.” You shug. “Y'know, for a luxury restaurant like them their portions seemed kinda small. I was kinda hoping that you’d make something good for dinner when I came back, m’craving pasta like crazy.”

Miguel perks up a little at your words. “Do you want me to make something for you?”

“No, it's fine.”

“Are you—”

“And why haven’t you eaten?” you cut him off, knowing all too well that he’d get up and start cooking for you. You didn’t want to be a burden to him. You noticed that the kitchen was the exact same as before you left.

“I wasn’t in the mood to eat.”

“Not even take out?”

Miguel shakes his head.

Your brows furrow, finding it unusual but decide to say nothing more about it. The awkward tension from this morning seems to return, lingering around the apartment walls and now beginning to creep in between the two of you.

Your thighs are just brushing his, you can sense his chest rising and falling next to you; you feel so close to him but at the same time so distant all of a sudden. You can sense that there’s something that hangs over the two of you, lingering like melancholic clouds over the late winter skies in New York.

The tension is heavy, too thick to be cut with a knife. You feel a desire to leave perhaps to ease up whatever was going on between the two of you. But before you shift, Miguel seems to finally let his words ease you out of the cage that you were in.

“Did our–uh lesson …work?”

“What?”

It takes a few seconds before realization creeps in, your face softening. He was talking about last night.

“Oh, that.” You avoid eye contact with him. “Yeah, it helped.”

That was the last punch in the gut for him. Internally, his stomach churns. Almost nauseous at the idea of you pleasing someone else and having that look in your eyes which wasn’t solely for him.

He had no right to feel this way, he knows this, you’re free to do anything you want but it takes a moment for Miguel to ease the growing ache in his stomach; letting out an exhale before speaking again.

“You were right earlier.”

“Huh?” You glance towards him only to find that Miguel’s not looking at you, instead staring straight ahead at the window, showcasing the glorious glow of New York.

Skyscrapers of different heights dotted around the landscape, numerous tiny squares glowing with light only emphasized the burn of sonder.

“Y’know you were right earlier, you were right about me having no plans for valentine’s.”

“Oh, I was, was I?” You jump at the chance to lighten up the mood immediately, your tone turning to curiosity.

“Yeah, I had a reservation but uh— I canceled.”

“Oh, why?”

“They uhh – they said they had other plans so…” his voice trails off.

Your teasing grin drops and your voice effortlessly changes effortlessly from playfulness to one of compassion. “Oh, Miguel, I’m so sorry.” Truly, your heart dropped at the thought of him being stood up.

“It’s fine.”

A pause settles between you once again and you muse over what had happened tonight.You let out an exhale before speaking. “If I'd known that the date was going to be shit, and to be fair I should’ve known from the moment that he ignored me at work, and I would’ve stayed with you and–”

“Really?” Miguel interrupts, finally gaining the courage to meet your eyes. “Would you?

“Yes, I would've. You know I would have.”

“Really?” he repeats dumbfoundedly, as if he didn’t believe you the first time.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I just didn’t think–” Miguel cuts himself off, abruptly turning his head away from you. Fear began to build up in his lower abdomen.

He didn’t think that he was worth it.

He didn’t think that you loved him. He didn’t think that you see him in the same way that he sees you.

He sees you in a way which makes him realize that nothing in the world makes sense if you’re not there by his side to explain it all to him.

He sees you in a way that keeps him up at night for hours, staring at the ceiling whilst he conjures up one hundred and one ways to confess to you; working through each scenario before ruling it out because of his fear and apprehension.

If you knew how he felt, how would you react? Would it upset you? Excite you? Do you even feel the same? If you don’t then it could change everything between the two of you. Maybe you’d move out because of his feelings.

No. He doesn’t want that.

Anything but that.

“Your voice is quiet, full of overwhelming empathy. “Miguel, of course I would’ve stayed with you. All you had to do was ask and as a friend, I would’ve done something with you instead.”

“As a friend?”

Your expression turns to confusion, hesitant in your answer. “Yeah, yeah and as a roommate of course.”

You tried to add that on as a joke but he doesn’t laugh, instead taking another deep breath to calm himself.

Fuck, why was he doing this to himself?

“Did I know them?”

“Huh?” Miguel glances at you.

“Did I know your valentine’s date?”

Miguel hesitates. Does he lie about it? He figures that you wouldn’t catch on anyways. He goes with a semi-lie. “I dunno’. Maybe I mentioned them once or twice to you or Peter.”

You nod at his words. He definitely didn’t mention it to you. You remember everything that he tells you.

“Any reason why they canceled?”

Miguel shakes his head. “Not really.” He takes a shaky inhale. “They just said something came up.” It’s still relatively awkward in the room; your fingers digging into the soft fabric of the couch.

“Did you like them?”

Miguel holds back a scoff. To you, it seems like you had asked a stupid question, regret immediately filling your body as soon as the words had left your mouth. Of course, he liked them, why else would he be asking them out?

But to him, he scoffs in frustration. Your use of the word ‘like’ isn’t enough to accurately describe his infatuation with you.

Miguel swallows thickly before giving his answer, it’s breathy and it comes out more strangled that he had expected. “Ye-yeah.”

You glance down, your fingertips still painfully digging into the couch.

You can feel the disappointment emerge within you; jealousy begins to eat away at you but you suppress it just like you have with your other emotions – a consistent coping mechanism.

But this wasn’t about you right now. This was about Miguel and right now you have to be there for him. Whether it be as a friend or roommate, you want to let him know that you care.

The week leading up to valentine’s you spotted his excitement from a mile away: a cheesy grin at his phone on the couch or his feigned confusion that one afternoon when you had come home earlier than he had expected and caught a glimpse of a pack of red balloons in his hands. Of course, your interrogation came to nothing but you estimated that it had something to do with valentine’s.

For him to go through all that effort to be stood up on made your heart ache.

You’re not really sure where to start with your consolation.

“Miguel—”

“Let me repay you for last night.”

His words seem to leave his mouth in a rush. His tongue spilling out the words in a haste.

Your mouth is slightly agape, unsure of what he means.

“If uh– only if you wanted to...uh but you don't-” A hand rubs at his forehead, frustrated with himself for being so blunt. “fuck! I wasn’t–”

“You want to do what we did last night?” you interrupt, suddenly catching on. You’re still unable to make eye contact with him.

“Yes but–” Miguel hesitates, as if his words are lodged in his throat.

“But what?”

“ But you don’t have to feel the same way, I just—” he pauses, taking a breath to consider his words. His eyes flutter shut as he finally explains, finding it easier to not look at you. He can't bear to see your expression as he says this.

“Just...uh, fuck, how do I say this? Just... let me have you for tonight...please. Just this once and we can forget that it ever happened but I– I just want –”

His sentence is cut off once he feels your hands cup his face. For once, you forced yourself to look at him. You could tell how much he refused to look at you, his expression was painted with a deep yearning that you’ve never seen before, painted with a starvation for love.

“Miguel.” You don’t even know where to start with your own words.

“Can I show you?” He mumbles softly. “Can I show you how bad I’ve wanted you? Please?"

There’s a pause in the room before you give an answer.

“Yes.” The word leaves your lips so softly you weren’t sure that he heard it the first time.

“Yes.” you repeat a little louder this time.

For him, it was always a yes.

reblogs are much appreciated!!

(😮‍💨 I know this took me ages to upload but tysm for hanging in there…maybe I’m done torturing you guys…maybe…)

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— a study in demon

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, a/b/o dynamics in werewolves and demons, penetration, G!P!reader, it's demon girlcock OKAY, cockwarming, breeding kink, size kink, knotting, all characters are aged-up

summary: an unfortunate turn of events leaves wednesday with a very frustrated, very needy oni demon on her hands. what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't take care of her beloved?

word count: 4.5k

a/n: jesus christ, look at those warnings. this fic is a whole declaration of war. i went feral. i have nothing to say for myself. hope you enjoy

The first thing you feel when the annoying buzzing of the alarm pulls you out of your peaceful slumber is the immense heat of your body and the ache somewhere in your lower belly. A groan leaves your throat before you can even blink your eyes fully open, and you blindly reach for your phone to turn the screaming noise off.

You sit up on your bed and squint at the sunlight that streams through the tiny slit in the tightly shut curtains, opening a small calendar app that’s designed specifically for the creatures of your kind – and with a huff you realize your rut is coming in two days.

Damn it. You’ve completely forgotten about it. That certainly explains the aggressiveness and mood swings you’ve been having for the past week.

You open a new text message, sent from your girlfriend at 5:30 AM – not exactly an early riser, but definitely the type to pull an all-nighter on a school night – wishing you the most dreadful morning. You smile to yourself, and the smallest thought of her seems to be enough to motivate you to get out of bed and start the day despite the uncomfortable feeling stirring in your belly.

Thank all the gods almighty – Larissa Weems, especially – that it is still a non-uniform week at the Academy. Sitting in class with that tie wrapped around your throat like a noose would’ve killed you.

You rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a tee and a pair of jeans, changing hastily, before your gaze falls on a particular item of clothing that definitely doesn’t belong in your closet.

It’s a black baggy zip hoodie, the one Wednesday constantly wears when out of class. It’s a surprise she has forgotten it at your place – your best guess is she must’ve left in one of your sweatshirts instead.

The fabric feels smooth in your grasp. Warm fleece lining. A bit abrasive on the outside.

Just like her.

You lift the hoodie to your face, burying your nose in the softness and inhaling.

Smells just like her, too.

Without a second thought you put it over your frame – though a bit more of a tight fit, it’s still slightly baggy on your shoulders – and zip it up, pulling the hood over your head to take another small whiff of the familiar scent.

That should get you through the day, you think.

And it does. For the first half of it, at least.

You take an extra suppressant pill during lunch, but skip the meal, opting to spend the free time in the quad to ventilate your head.

It feels better. Much, much better. Even though you don’t get to see Wednesday at the canteen.

You’re back inside for your last period – maths, and your mind gets too busy with the complicated equations and formulas to worry about the hormones running wild in your body.

You’re half-way through a very fucked-up problem with roots and sines before a strong aroma suddenly fills up your lungs – an omega’s pheromones, you realize, wide-eyed.

An omega who is in heat.

You lift your head up, giving the students around you a quick once-over – and your gaze meets a pair of golden orbs, a pretty girl with pink plump lips and fiery-red hair tied into a pony tail watches you with interest, her chin propped on her palm. As soon as you make eye-contact, she gives you a smile, revealing a small, adorable gap in the front row of her teeth.

You shake your head and smile back politely before turning back to your paper, but the rest of the class feels like you’re trapped in a suffocating cage of hot arousal that smells of yellow fruit and washed laundry.

As soon as the bell dismisses the students, you hastily pack your bag and bolt out of the door, desperate to lock yourself in your dorm room and just take care of this stupid predicament you’ve found yourself in. You’ve never been more grateful for the lack of a roommate.

“Hey, (Y/n).”

You stop and turn at the sound of your name being called, although the voice is quite unfamiliar – too melodic and gentle to be anyone you know.

“Hey, uh...”

It’s the redhead from maths. She watches you expectantly for a few moments before her face falls slightly, “It’s Dina! I was with the Black Cats last year. We met at the after party? The one Yoko hosted?” She sounds almost offended at the fact that you don’t remember her.

“Oh. Oh, right. Dina. Sorry. I’m really bad with names.” You smile apologetically.

“It’s fine. I’d be surprised if you remembered me, actually. This academy holds way too many ginger werewolves,” Dina chuckles, and falls in step with you to continue walking down the hall. “So, you up to anything right now?”

“No, not really. Just hoping to get back to the dorms and sleep my awful headache off. Been bugging me all day.”

It’s only a half-lie – your temples are still throbbing like crazy, and the pheromones you’ve smelled in class did nothing to help your case.

The werewolf tilts her head, pursing her plump lips, “Hmm... That’s too bad, because, actually...”

The smaller girl suddenly grabs your hips and pushes you – unprepared, you stumble to the side and right through the door of some random classroom. Barely able to catch your balance at Dina’s abrupt movement, your hands grasp at her forearms, desperately trying to steady the rest of your body.

“I was thinking I could help you relieve that pain of yours.”

She looks up at you, tilts her chin up slightly. The smell of citron and fresh linen suddenly fills your nose.

The same one you’ve felt in class.

The omega in heat.

Fuck.

The werewolf in front of you settles with pumping her pheromones at you wildly, her palms flitting from your hips down to your thighs, slowly closing in on your center – you do nothing to stop her, your own hands reaching behind you to grip the edge of the desk. Her eyes are glinting red now, slitted pupils never breaking eye contact with yours.

She presses her nose against your scent gland, and you feel her grin against your neck.

“I don’t smell an omega on you...” Shit. Of course Wednesday’s hoodie doesn’t smell like anything but her usual dark resins and woods scent. As much as it is alluring and recognizable to you, it’s not pheromones. “You haven’t mated with one yet? That’s just criminal... An alpha like you should spend all her ruts with a pretty omega impaled on her cock.”

You take a sharp inhale through your nose, feeling yourself throb treacherously at her words. Dina giggles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw, her mouth now inches away from yours.

“You know…” she starts sultry, voice heavy with unadulterated lust in a way that only an omega’s can sound to the ears of a rutting alpha, “I’ve never taken an oni’s knot before…”

You feel the werewolf squeeze your thighs, bare her claws in a sharp movement, “I wonder what it feels like.”

Your head is heavy, cloudy – you’re practically unable to resist, tusked mouth hanging open with small puffs of vapors fluttering out. The urge to bend the small werewolf over the desk and pound her into the wood feels even harder to resist, too.

An unpleasant feeling rattles through your chest, unbearable and disgusting. An image of dark-brown eyes and soft lips painted burgundy flashes through your mind.

You feel like you’re going to puke.

“No,” you rasp, pushing the werewolf away. “Get off me.”

Before the startled girl can retort, you stumble out of the classroom and slam the door closed, turning the key that has been left in the keyhole by some clumsy substitute.

You stumble for a moment, lifting a clawed palm to grasp at your head that has suddenly turned cloudy and heavy, and make your way towards the ladies’ restroom.

She must’ve felt the rut closing on you, and her own heat triggered it prematurely.

With shaky hands you pull out your phone, opening the messages app and texting the first person that comes to your clouded mind.

enid

bro you gotta ditch

it’s an emergency

i just stumbled into a girl

uhh dina?

she’s from ophelia hall

anyways i think she needs… help

yk

from a fellow omega wolf

i think she hasn’t been taking her suppressants

for some fucking reason

and yk it’s not like me to live a lady in distress

but i really had to dip

i was doing her a favor by dipping actually

i locked her up on the 2nd floor

202

i really had to leave

Pressing your back against one of the bathroom stalls, you wait anxiously as three gray dots dance on the screen.

The device dingles in your hands.

oooohh

its okay

i gotchu

u should totes find weds tho

im sure she can help u out ;))

You hide your phone in your pocket and open the tap to splash your face with cold water. It eases the flush of your face, but doesn’t calm the raging beast inside.

Your fingers grasp onto the edges of the sink tightly, almost making the marble crack.

As you walk through the corridors and up the stairs of Ophelia Hall, the only thought that occupies your mind is Wednesday. Wednesday and her dark eyes and her lips and her touch and the beautiful curve of her slender hips and everything that is your mate.

You don’t bother knocking, urgently swinging the door open.

And there it is. Your (f/c) sweater, no doubt one of her monochrome striped shirts under it.

Your palms are sweating. Claws digging into your pant legs, tusks into your lip.

The small ravenette turns in her seat to look at you, her fingers stilling over the keys of her typewriter.

Her braided hair looks pristine and untouched, her posture unmatched, the image perfect even when out of public sight.

“Ma bête,” she addresses softly, brows slightly raised in question. “You’re back. And you look… a trifle uncomfortable.”

Does she not know? There’s no way she doesn’t. Such details could never slip Wednesday’s unhealthily constantly alerted mind.

“Is something wrong?”

Fuck. Of course. There it is, that cruel glint in her eyes. You should’ve known.

She wants you to say it.

You shift on your feet. The temperature is becoming almost unbearable.

“I’m…”

Wednesday watches you, tilts her head just a tiny bit forward — dark, haunted eyes deadpan, staring you down, her jaw tightening slightly and relaxing in a way that is barely noticeable but has your gaze flicking down to the enticing slant of her neck.

“I’m… in a rut.” You admit, finally.

Wednesday’s eyes widen slightly — her posture straightens even more, the glint in her eyes turning dangerous, “Oh.” Yes, oh, as if she wasn’t aware. “Why are the suppressants not working?”

Should you admit that the small encounter with the horny omega has sent your hormones spiraling?

Wednesday is by no means a normal human, yet her nose lacks the capability of sensing alpha pheromones. Nevertheless, she can read you like a book, and she probably was aware of your coming rut long before you were. She simply likes abusing the knowledge.

“It must be bad then, if it has you reduced to such a pathetic state,” the goth tuts, drumming her fingers against her desk. “Pure torture, isn’t it, bête? I wish I could help you…”

Wednesday turns back to her paper, shrugging noncommittally, “Unfortunately, it is my writing hour, and you know how much I would detest an intervention in my schedule.”

You whine as the drumming of her keys resumes – like a kicked puppy, you turn to reach for the doorknob, prepared to return back to the restroom and take care of yourself to the thought of your ever-so beautiful and unyielding girlfriend.

Wednesday’s fingers still on the typewriter.

“But I suppose… We can reach a consensus.”

The legs of her chair scrape against the hardwood floor, and you turn to find Wednesday standing next to the desk, palm resting on the back of the seat invitingly.

“Come here.”

You’re beside Wednesday before the whole command can escape her mouth, and she gives a small, amused huff that almost has you howling and gnawing at furniture, then gestures at the chair, “Sit. Unbutton your pants, underwear off.”

You reach to do as told, pulling at a pant-leg to finally discard the constricting garment before the ravenette slaps your hand, “Just the button and the zipper, (Y/n). Do not make me repeat myself.”

You gulp and take a seat at her desk, tugging the elastic of your boxers down to free the hard shaft.

The dark, intense gaze Wednesday is watching you with makes you blush and throb, excitement and arousal mixing with the slightest of embarrassments only her presence can induce.

“Good girl,” she hums, circling the chair like a hunting lioness. “I will allow you to be inside me, just this once. I will not allow you to touch me in any other way. If I feel any movement, internal or external, you will be punished. And by no means are you allowed to cum. Not without my permission. Are the instructions clear, beast? Nod your empty little head if affirmative.”

You nod with a small whimper at the derogatory words, though they do nothing to soothe the aching hardness between your legs.

“Good, good. Well, since the terms are settled, I shall get started.”

Before you can respond, Wednesday steps closer to the desk, slightly flipping her skirt with a quick movement of her hand and letting you catch the smallest of glimpses of her pretty pussy – the show is over before you can marvel though, and the seer sits on your lap, your length pressing against her lower back.

Like this, with no distance left between you, her scent is encompassing your whole being. No pheromones can compare to the way Wednesday smells, the rich, woodsy notes of a forest soaked in rainwater luring you in as you take a small inhale.

You bite back a growl, but a small noise of frustration still manages to reach the ravenette’s sharp hearing.

“Quiet, beast.” She scolds, her tone of voice far from playful, and reaches to straighten her skirt carefully, flicking the non-existing dust off the garment in a graceful movement of her palm.

Then, before you can downright keen with impatience, the same hand moves behind to wrap around your hard member, giving it a squeeze so light it is almost torturous –  Wednesday lifts her hips and presses the head against the warmth of her entrance.

That first contact feels like electricity and fire in your belly, worsened when you feel your cock split her lips open, stretching her taut around it, and the smallest worry that you might just not fit passes through your rut-clouded mind.

Then again, Wednesday might not even be merciful enough to sheathe you fully inside her, but the thought of being too big to be properly seated in her cunt is tantalizing and excruciating at the same time.

A small, relieved sigh escapes Wednesday’s lips –  the sensation of being filled up with you is like no other, and she can’t help but relish in it despite her aggravation. She takes her time, feeling every inch push deeper inside her and stretch her out, the thick shaft splitting her open, then her thighs press into yours and she stills completely.

If she had to, the goth would put all the time and work in to stretch herself out with your girth, to take all of you inside her like she was molded just for that single purpose. It’s not like Wednesday has something to prove to anyone – or maybe she has, to you, that no one else at Nevermore could take you so well and make all your resolve, might and dominance provided to you by nature, or by gods, or by whatever entity has created such a delectable beast as you crumble under her and make it natural for you to submit to the seer.

And oh does submissiveness look good on you, too – or at least it sounds good, if your heavy breathing mixed with quiet whines hitting her ear is anything to go by.

Wednesday is reminded of her goal suddenly when she feels your hips buck instinctually into her, and the ravenette has to hold back a sound of pleasure at the movement, because she can’t fight how incredible the pressure feels, making her velvet walls flutter. She’s still holding the reins when she tightens her pussy around your throbbing dick purposefully, a trace of a small smirk on her plush burgundy lips at the needy and wanton groan that escapes your mouth.

That was a good enough treat, she thinks. Now to the sticks.

Wednesday kicks you in the shin with the side of her loafer, pulling you out of your pleasure-induced trance and making you flinch.

“Move closer to the desk, beast. I need to be able to reach the keys in order to type.”

You grunt, shuffling the chair closer with your weight, nudging Wednesday’s body forward, and the slightest shift makes you hiss — she slides a few inches up your shaft before she’s at the base again, seated nice and snug, her thighs resting on yours. Your hands fall to grapple at them, and you receive another painful kick.

“No. Hands off. If you are unable to control yourself, I will shun you out.” Wednesday scolds, though has to hide the effect the feeling of your claws curling around her have, and fails. Her voice sounds more breathless than she has intended.

She has a hard time admitting to herself how torturous this is for her, too. The seer sneaks a glance down to where the thick shaft splits her open, so tight she can practically feel it throbbing against her clit. A small bead of precum runs down, skirting one of the throbbing veins.

Wednesday’s restraint is laudable.

“Messy creature,” she murmurs, her tone surprisingly soft, before the paper in front of her takes over her attention again. Straightening her back, the ravenette goes back to her writing as if she’s not full of demon cock right now.

You try to focus on the rapid clatter of the keys, on the way Wednesday’s elegant fingers dance over the typewriter, maybe try and catch a glance of the words the girl is printing on the paper. Anything to pull your mind away from the tight warmth hugging your aching cock, from weight of the small body pressed against you.

The demon inside of you is raging, howling, salivating between huge tusks. The monster is not as prejudiced as the fellow oni of your clan are – it doesn’t care if it’s another demon or a human you’re nestled inside. It demands the frail body pressed against your own is filled up and bred, demands the goth takes all of you, stretching around your swollen knot before it's barely able to slip inside.

Not just any body. Or some omega. Wednesday. Wednesday who isn’t even a part of that animalistic system, but the beast begs for more, wants all of her more, more with each passing second.

A growl mixed with a whimper escapes your mouth – you have no idea what to do with your hands, so you press them into the edge of the table on either side of Wednesday’s typewriter, claws digging into the dark wood. The involuntarily display of strength has the small female tightening around you with a gentle hitch of her breath, making you groan.

“Wednesday,” you rasp through clenched teeth. “I can’t. Please. I’m losing control.”

“O-oh, are you?” The goth inquires mockingly, hoping you don’t take notice of her slight stutter.

“Mhm,” you nod dumbly. “Wanna take you so bad. Wanna fuck you full of me.”

Wednesday can’t fight the way her pussy constricts around you again, though the determination not to lose control remains, strong as ever. She abandons the keys to reach a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful of (h/c) locks to pull and make you meet her gaze, “Whose is it, (Y/n)?”

You furrow your brows in confusion, making Wednesday’s frown deepen – a hint for the right answer comes in the form of the seer’s hips lifting and rocking back down, the friction making you hiss.

“Answer me.”

“Yours.” You swallow. “Yours, Wednesday. Every- every inch is.”

“Good. Good girl.” She coos, easing her hold on you to rake her short nails down the back of your neck, making goosebumps litter your body. “Bed, beast. Now.”

A low growl rumbling in your chest and vibrating against her back is the only warning Wednesday gets before she’s lifted into the air sharply.

In a rough, barely controlled movement you stand up so fast you topple the chair over, flipping the girl with ease and walking a couple of steps to press her against the bed, the ravenette’s cunt still snug around your shaft. A clawed hand reaches for a pillow hastily to cushion Wednesday’s head, the last resemblance of caring gentleness in your actions before you pull out to the tip and buck back inside.

Wednesday’s head snaps back, mouth falling open in pleasure as you pin her down into the mattress, fucking hard into the welcoming, tight warmth of her pussy. Despite the dynamics of oni demons still being fairly alien to Wednesday – not as alien apparently, as she knows the frequency and signs of your rut better than you do and isn’t opposed to using it against you – she now seems to understand the appeal of being absolutely destroyed by an alpha that omegas in heat are so partial to.

As delectable as the thought is, it rekindles the spark of possessiveness that she thought has almost been extinguished. The goth wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your bodies flush together.

Hers. No one else’s.

Not some other depraved omega girl’s so desperate to get a taste of you.

“You foolish brute.” She pants as if it’s your fault you seem to be irresistible to other women, voice trembling slightly, her breath completely pushed out of her lungs with each of your thrusts. “You better make good on your promise and breed me like a good alpha should.”

The monster inside you roars at the proposition that is so obviously supposed to be taunting. Your palms slide down the girl’s waist, thumbs brushing against the protruding hipbones to dip into the supple flesh sitting low under her navel, holding her tightly, almost hard enough to bruise and match the brutal pace of your hips rutting into Wednesday, your cock splitting her open deliciously in a toe-curling sensation that has Wednesday’s head falling back against the dark pillows.

The sight under you has you growling savagely – your tongue lolls out to lick a thick stripe up the exposed skin of the ravenette’s neck before you bite down, huge tusks clasping around her throat and keeping Wednesday in place completely, her pulse wild against the rough surface of your muscle. Her pussy constricts around your cock, clamping down hard in an attempt to keep the thick shaft buried to the hilt every time you pull out and quivering when you slam back inside and fill her up enough for the tip to kiss the entrance of her womb, never letting the small female catch her breath.

The lustful fog of ardent fervor clouding Wednesday’s brain doesn’t numb her to the sensation of a swelling at the base of your shaft nudging against her opening every time your hips meet hers. It threatens to push in, catches deliciously on Wednesday’s clit with each thrust and she can feel herself getting painfully close.

But she will not. For the sake of the one thing she wants more than anything else, the goth will deprive herself.

“Knot me.” She rasps into your ear, her feet pushing into your lower back to urge you deeper inside. “Mia bestia, mia alfa. Dentro. Ven dentro di mi.”

You’d have no clue what she has just said on a normal day, and you have zero idea right now, buried eight inches deep inside of her, but the breathless, desperate pants of Italian have you turning feral. In one last brutal thrust the knot slips past Wednesday’s tight lips and inside, stretching and filling her so thoroughly and impossibly delicious it has her eyes rolling into the back of her head. A spill of wetness from her own release rushing forth as she clamps down on your cock lubes her aching walls, helping the bulging slide in firmly.

Your lips gravitate to hers, pulled to her like a magnet, and you growl into her mouth as your cum spills hotly, taking up any remaining space inside the small female and her walls ripple, begging for more. Wednesday's arms tighten around your shoulders and legs squeeze around your hips to keep you close.

You throb with sated completion, press lazy kisses to the seer’s brow and flushed cheeks, and watch as her eyes flutter open to meet yours, her chest heavy with steamy breaths.

“Too hot, huh?” You ask, jaw slack slightly.

Wednesday gives a weak nod, and you reach to tug the sweater off her shoulders, then unzip her skirt to slip it down her pale legs, leaving the girl in just her striped shirt. The newly exposed skin provides better contact for you to revel in – you purr in satisfaction and move to join the seer on the bed, careful not to crush her, and maneuver her small body in your palms to pull her on top of you.

Wednesday huffs but doesn’t resist, nudging at your neck with her nose and pressing a soft kiss to your jugular in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“How did you find out?” You murmur, lifting your hands to start undoing one of the ravenette’s loosened braids leisurely.

“I have my ways.”

You hum at the vague reply, now certain that the disembodied hand following you around the whole day wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks, “I hope you know I had no intention to lie to you or anything. You just- you didn’t exactly give me a chance to speak.”

“Your explanation wasn’t necessary. I’m well aware of what happened.” The movement of the seer’s plush lips tickles your skin pleasantly, her voice now void of its previous detachment.

You smile softly, finished with unbraiding her hair, your fingers threading through the silky raven locks, careful not to give an accidental tug. Wednesday closes her eyes at your touch, and the tranquility of the moment has you feeling like a cat basking in warm sunlight, despite the object of your passions being a complete opposite to it.

“I’ll have to consult Enid on the topic of which herbs are the deadliest to werewolves.”

“Wednesday.”

[blakeswritingimagines]

Burn The House Down

Summary: Having to have you was always his main goal, as time passes and you change as people Aemond seems indifferent even during your big news.

Word Count: 3.7k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

For years since you were children, you did your best to be kind to the Targaryen children no matter how odd they seemed, never noticing how Aemond always seemed to be around or that he was behind things falling apart in your life even when he was there to console you. But would continue on when something better seemed to take place in front of you. The older you got, the more you slowly but surely noticed how erratically and obsessive Aemond seemed toward things in his life but kept shrugging it off like it was nothing going about your day. Aemond had been secretly stalking you since a young age, watching you from the shadows, making sure you were always safe. When you both were children you could always catch him staring at you with that odd look in his eye, that burning obsession and curiosity as his fingers twitched waiting to touch you. As time went by, and you all became adults, you had started to notice him even more. He was always there somewhere close by. You noticed the odd things happening in your life, you did not know they were his own doing. He had a certain power over you and your life.

Aemond can recall each time you were quite kind to him during his formative years in the Red Keep. You always listened to his troubles, and his desire to leave and see the world. He remembered your kindness towards him even without a dragon, he can understand how you might have not noticed the attention he lavished upon you. You were often busy with matters of your own and he did not wish for you to worry about things, he tried to keep his feelings to himself as best he could when he could. He did not see his affection for you as erratic but rather focused on something he truly desired. You used to go visit him in the courtyard when you weren't busy with more important matters. You always seemed to have a lot in common even if it was Aemond altering himself to fit you better, but one thing that never changed was that he still kept following you, being close to you, and watching you with those lilac/sapphire eyes of his, that sparkled every time he turned his gaze on you always seeming to be studying you. You had only been a child when Aemond's strange obsessions started. But as your body changed into maturity, his interest in you changed as well. Aemond watched closely you growing into a young woman, your curves getting fuller, and he felt… things. Forbidden fantasies, desires. He was ashamed, of course. Naturally, he went out of his way to pray more often but he couldn't help it. You were his friend, yes. But also, you were something else to him. Though his intentions were not clear, it did not help that you saw Aemond as an older brother-like figure. However, there was always something that piqued your interest and intrigued you at the same time, the odd affection he had for you. You could not comprehend how someone could follow your routine for so long and not make a proper confession to you, or at least make a romantic advance which led you to believe he must've not cared in such a way. He wanted to know more about you the older you become. Your likes, dislikes, hopes, dreams, secrets, etc.

He always wanted to get closer to you and get to know you even better almost as if he wanted to lock you away and be the only one around you. One thing that stood out to Aemond was that whenever he would see you, you would always be kind and warm towards him regardless of his choices and decisions he would make. You seemed to genuinely care about him and his well-being. You never tried to pressure him to talk about his feelings or share any of his personal thoughts. Aemond had always appreciated this about you. You were someone he could turn to and trust. You noticed him again, just as you had when he was younger. In passing, you glimpse that same strange look in his eyes and recall all those times he was always near. You ponder what it could mean and wonder if maybe he still felt the same way. It worried you. Your duties and responsibilities keeping you busy but you can't help but wonder what Aemond is doing and if he is still watching over you. You had not forgotten about him. His attention and affection have not gone unnoticed.

That attention and affection were growing daily. It was all Aemond would think about when he first woke up or when he would fall asleep. His thoughts would be consumed with everything he could know about you, where you were, what you were doing, all of it. It got to the point where if he was not near you he felt lost. He always knew where your chamber would be, who your friends were, your favorite foods, your favorite cloth to wear, everything. He needed to be near you. You were the only person in this realm who truly made him feel this way, and he was unsure he wanted his feelings to go unanswered any longer. It was not uncommon for Aemond to keep watch over you, but he rarely made himself visible if he could help it. He was not one to reveal his own feelings but this was something different. He began to feel drawn to having you as his, like a magnet. He was constantly thinking about you, wondering when you would cross paths again spending more time together, hoping the next time you did he might muster up the courage to speak his truth. He knew you deserved to know how he felt. But how do you tell someone something like that without knowing if they feel the same?

He was obsessed with you. He needed you, and not just physically but emotionally. He wanted more than your body, he wanted your mind and soul. He would do anything to be close to you, to touch your smooth skin, anything to have you notice him. You were his muse, his everything. He wanted your attention, he wanted your love… he wanted you. Yes, his obsession with you had become his obsession to possess you. His life had become completely consumed by you even if he was capable of saving face in front of others. Nothing mattered to him except you. Nothing else had meaning to him anymore. He had to have you. The risk of rejection was too severe for him. He could never bring himself to reveal how he felt. But he had to make you want him. He knew that if he could just figure out what you desired in a partner, he could make you his and own you. The more obsessive and possessive he became, the more you seemed to become oblivious. You might never even think to look his way.

He could be near you or call on you, but that was not enough. He wanted more than that. He wanted you to be his and only his not enjoying when another held your attention. He wanted you all to himself. He spent hours dreaming of ways he could make you realize how he felt, how he needed you like he needed air in his lungs. He would even contemplate things he could do to make you jealous, just so that you would notice him and confront him. He had to confess his feelings or he would simply implode. If you felt the same way he could not wait another minute. If you did not… He would find a way to make you care enough about what would happen.

You often caught a glimpse of him in your peripheral vision. It started to frighten you a bit, wondering if someone knew your secrets. But you always ignored those thoughts even being comforted by the tall blonde male himself that he would look after you, reminding yourself daily that Aemond wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You continued going about your life, trying to forget your suspicions. One evening, you were walking back to your chambers when you felt someone's eyes on you. Turning around and seeing Aemond, watching you. He smiled at you nervously. You were about to walk away when he stopped you. He cleared his throat. He had prepared this moment in his head for so long. There was so much he wanted to say, he did not know how to begin. He was nervous and fidgeting but he was glad he had finally stopped you. He had prepared exactly what he wanted to say. He took a step towards you. “My lady. I… I have spent a long time in this castle. And in that time I have been watching you and there is something I must tell you.”

Your heart started to beat rapidly, almost painfully. You knew what he was going to say but you didn't want it to be true. You listened to his words silently, wondering what he had to say. Your face was a mixture of emotions. You were nervous but you were trying hard to hide it. You were afraid that if you let your guard down, he would see just how much power he wielded over you. "What do you wish to say, Aemond?" You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You stood silently, listening to every word Aemond had to say to you. Your face was filled with emotions but you couldn't tell what those were, it was a mix of confusion and scared. You took a step back from Aemond, unsure of what to say or what to do. "You… what did you want to say?" You said while biting your lower lip nervously. Aemond's sudden approach surprised you, making you uneasy for some reason… You had never seen him so forward before, it wasn't like him. He stepped closer. He had to get this right. He took a deep breath and continued. “I-I… I wish to…” he stumbled a bit. He had to collect himself. “I have known you for a long time my lady, and ever since the day I first saw you my life has changed. Every time I look at you my heart beats faster. Every time you walk through these halls I have to stop myself from following you. My lady, I want… no… I need you. You are my everything."

You feel butterflies in your stomach at Aemond's words as he speaks of his feelings for you. You'd never heard something so romantic from anyone, let alone Aemond. You were speechless. Your mind was racing and you were not sure what to say. "Aemond..." You said while biting the inside of your cheeks, feeling overwhelmed by his confession. "I don't... I didn't expect this. I thought you... felt the way about someone else." You looked down playing with your fingers, trying to find the right words to say in return. “Do you… have someone else then, my lady?” He asked with a nervous expression on his face. He was not sure if he wanted to hear the answer to that question. He had to find out. But could he bear to hear you tell him that you loved another?! The thought of another man touching you, being embraced by your arms, kissing your soft lips was… it made him feel sick with jealousy and rage. No, why would you ever be interested in someone else? Surely he had to be your one and only.

“Darling…” he took a step even closer, you two were almost face to face. “There is no one but you. I dream of you, when I lay with those whores I close my eyes and see your face. You…” he paused. “You are perfect for me.” He grabbed your hand, his body trembling, nervous about your answer. “Please, say something. Tell me I’m wrong.” He whispered, his breath trembling. Aemond looked you in the eyes. “No. There has never been anyone else. How couldn’t I fall for someone like you? You are a beauty second to none. I do not deserve you for I am just a second son, just a prince. It is true I am the second son but you are my first love.” He held out his other hand. “Please, let me court you, my lady.” He said while holding back a smile. He was waiting for your response. Your thoughts were still racing, feeling confused and overwhelmed by Aemond's words and gestures at that moment. You look up at him, biting your lower lip as you tried to gather your thoughts. You didn't know what you should do or say but there was something Aemond's words brought to your mind a question you had been asking yourself for a while now. You looked up and met his eye, hesitating in what to say but you decided to just be honest. You took a deep breath and exhaled. "Aemond…" You said quietly. "I was wondering… do you truly love me?".

Aemond gulped. Could you truly be asking him that?! A question he had been dying to hear fall from your lips but could not bring forth. He was speechless, his mind racing, his heart beating faster than the drums of war. Was that your way of accepting his feelings? Or was that your way of turning him down? “Do I love you?” Aemond repeated the question. “My lady… I do not think I can love anyone else.” "Say it, Aemond." Your tone had become firm, as your eyes were looking straight at Aemond. There is no going back and you both knew it. "Say that you love me." You took a step closer to him, your face right in front of his. You wanted him to say it. "And mean it with all your heart." You spoke, putting your hands on his chest. You knew he was about to say it, you could feel it. He took a deep and nervous breath. You were so incredibly close to him. He could see your eyes, and hear your soft breath. He felt his heart racing and almost skipped a beat. He could not help but notice just how beautiful you were. But would he say the words? He paused and gulped. He had to say it. He had to mean it. He had to be true to his feelings or otherwise live with a regret worse than death. Aemond took a step closer placing his hands gently on your face and stared directly into your sparkling eyes. He had been dreaming of this moment. “I love you. I love you with all my heart.” The words just… poured out of him. His feelings had overcome him. He had no way of stopping them. There would be no turning back once he spoke them. But he had no choice. You deserved to hear the words. You deserved to hear how he felt. “I love you. I love you with everything that I am.” And he meant it. He meant every word.

You felt the coldness of your husband's touch after months of your marriage and knew things had changed. You knew something was wrong and wanted to have a word with Aemond about it only for him to keep sending you away. You confronted him late one night in your shared chambers, alone, with no one around. "Aemond, what happened to that sweet and loving man I once married?" You asked with a sad expression on your face while sitting on the bed watching him. You had noticed that Aemond was slowly becoming cold and distant towards you. You had noticed his behavior change ever since the wedding night when your marriage was consummated. He no longer looked at you the same way and didn't show any emotions towards you, almost as if he was trying to hide the marriage from the world. You had tried confronting him about this a few times before and he had no answer, only excuses and half-hearted replies.

Aemond was sitting in a plush black leather chair opposite his wife, trying to contain his emotions. He hated seeing you sad, he hated seeing you cry, it was like an aching pain that he could not shake. But he could not tell you. You had to know why he did what he did but how could he ever tell you. How could you ever understand? He had to keep his voice soft, his expression stern, he could not show emotion. He hated the thought of you finding out what he had done, it was the one thing he feared the most. “Oh, my dear wife.” Aemond took slow steps toward you. His movements were cold and unenthusiastic. “What has happened to me? I’m not sure. It is nothing to worry over my love. I am merely busy with my duties. The Realm needs me more than you.” He took his place on the bed beside you, looking away from his wife. Why were you being like this, always nagging him about the smallest things? Always making mountains out of molehills. He had important work to do, you had become merely a distraction. "Oh but, Aemond…" You said, slightly annoyed by his tone. "And why do you only love the realm? Is there no love left for me? Is that why you act like this? You are always alone with that cold and distant gaze. You once were sweet and loving but I am not so sure anymore if that man is still in you."

You were getting angrier the more you spoke since you've been having mood swings lately and could react to nothing. Standing up with your hands on your hips while you stared at him, not breaking eye contact. You wanted answers. "You are ignoring me, Aemond," you said, your voice growing sterner. You slowly approached your husband, stepping closer to him and resting your hands on his shoulders. "We hardly speak. You act as if I am not there. You use the excuse of duties to keep me away. But you don't want me. I know it and I can feel it… Tell me, Aemond, do you still love me?" You took a deep breath attempting to calm yourself. You looked so desperate, so vulnerable. Of course, you would ask him something like this in a situation like this. He looked up to you with a frown. He could not believe you would question his love for you. What would cause you to think such a thought?! “You silly woman.” He sighed. You were pushing his buttons. He could not bring himself to yell at you, but maybe that was what you needed. He knew what you wanted to hear. “Yes! I love… you. Happy?” There, he said it. He hoped that would shut you up.

Those cold words wounded you but you tried to keep your emotions in check. You had to fight the urge to give him a harsh word. You didn't expect Aemond to have grown cold to you. Taking a step back and sat back down on the bed, your voice sounding defeated. "Very." You finally replied. Your voice sounded soft as you tried to keep your composure together. You wanted to cry, you just didn't expect this. You were expecting to love your marriage to a handsome prince to a T. But you were wrong. Oh, how you were wrong… You didn't know what went wrong. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment or reason. You didn't understand the whole situation, you could feel Aemond's coldness towards you and you knew that you had to do something but you just didn't know what. You were getting desperate.

You were walking through the halls of the Red Keep, as everyone was busy getting ready for the feast. You heard two lords whispering to each other as you walked past, one of them talking about you. “The Prince's wife has gained weight. She's nothing close to what she once was in her youth.” He whispered, referring to your younger years, as the other lord chuckled at the comment. “She is no longer a beauty in the sight of men,” said one of them. You couldn't believe the way the Lords and Ladies spoke to you. They mocked you behind your back, calling you the Prince's delight and a whore, all of it hurt you deeply. But to see your own husband do nothing to stand up for you… it hurt more than any insult you had ever heard. You couldn't believe it. You had never seen this side of him before. You heard the whispers behind you and felt hurt. You were not the person you once were, but was beauty the only thing these lords cared about? But alas, it was true. You had recently put on weight. It was hard not to let your lifestyle get to you. The constant feasting and your love of wine were catching up to you. You did not wish to turn, you did not wish to confront them, you wanted to be left alone. You wanted this day to pass by without any issues but knew you still had to appear beside Aemond and hopefully, he be in a good mood.

As the feast started, you were placed next to your husband Aemond, who looked bored throughout the entire event. He didn't acknowledge any of the guests, or you. The lords whispered about your weight gain, behind your back to anyone who listened. Your dress was tight and the whispers bothered you, making you self-conscious. You ate in small portions, not wanting to appear gluttonous. You took a sip of wine and your eyes spotted Aemond, who was staring at you. You knew it was time for an important statement to clear the air. "Aemond." Aemond froze. Hearing his name be spoken. He was speechless. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears and could see the lords whispering and chattering, but for some reason, he could hear nothing. He felt as if he was going mad. But he knew that his hopes were in vain. He looked up to you. The look on his face was one of no emotions. What did you want now? “Yes, my lady?” Aemond asked with his usual apathetic tone. You seemed to be speaking, but he could barely hear you from all the feasting and loud music. What did you want to say?

"I'm pregnant."

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.9k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Chapter 3: Coldening

The orange leaves falling on your balcony, the cold autumn wind signaling the end of the season. You could already see that most of the trees had lost their leaves.

What's more, most people were no longer going out without any kind of warmth, the chill that seemed to warn of a harsh winter approaching.

But the weather outside wasn't the only thing that was getting cold.

As you walked through the castle corridors, you rubbed your hands together to keep warm on that cold afternoon. Even if you were covered.

At least if you had someone to warm you up, you wouldn't need much.

However, you couldn't help but notice Leon's presence at the end of the corridor.

He was just staring out of the window, arms crossed and a furrowed brow, as usual. At first you had no plans to approach him and try to strike up some kind of conversation, perhaps because you were still closed off and tending to your recent hurt.

In fact, things had become even more distant between you. Since the last incident, you only met for breakfast and dinner respectively, not even at lunchtime, since Leon avoided you like the plague.

As a result, you simply interpreted that he didn't want to have any kind of conversation with you, and even you got used to the distance that was forming. Perhaps it would be better this way, each in their own space, to avoid so many problems.

However, what you least expected was to hear his voice calling you, almost in a whisper, "Can I talk to you?"

For a moment you stopped in your tracks, looking down and thinking for a moment. You couldn't just say no, that would be rude, but was it time to talk to him?

You didn't have time to consider any of this, as just then you felt his warm hand being placed gently on your shoulder, as if he wanted you to notice his presence, maybe to get your attention if only for a minute.

"Excuse me, Prince, I was a little lost in my thoughts." You say softly, turning your face towards him.

The same sweet, gentle smile was there, even though it was fake, you were incredibly convincing.

"Did something happen?" He asks in a sincere whisper, looking at you with a calm expression.

And for a brief moment you let yourself believe that he cared, even if it was far from reality.

"No, nothing. Just nervous, the wedding is next week." You say, yet the wedding was the least of your worries.

He looks you up and down, narrowing his eyes as if he doesn't believe a word you say.

Not least because he knew why you'd been so upset recently, he was the reason all this was happening.

"I see. Would you mind accompanying me?" He says calmly, offering you his arm.

Which, by the way, you politely declined, putting both your hands down the front of your dress. You made it perfectly clear that you didn't want to be that close.

Maybe it was wrong, but you couldn't act as if nothing had happened.

So he got the message, even if he was a little disappointed. He started walking towards the courtyard, hoping that you would accompany him.

And so you did, not making much of a point of starting any kind of conversation or anything like that. You just kept quiet and followed him, willing to listen to whatever he had to say.

You noticed his gaze on you, an almost guilty look, if you didn't know him, you could have sworn there was a hint of regret in his gaze.

But you knew it was just another insignificant justification.

The only sound was the rustling breeze, the wind that cut through the air and made you shiver. Along with the sound of dry leaves crunching with every step you both took.

"You refused my flowers." He whispered, calm as ever, yet you could sense a certain bitterness in his words.

You sighed, almost imperceptibly. How could you willingly accept it like that? As if nothing had happened, it seemed too hypocritical.

They were certainly the most expensive and beautiful flowers he could find, you had no doubt about that.

Just as he spared no expense in giving you the most expensive jewelry, the shiny necklaces that adorned your neck.

He couldn't buy your affection as he thought he could, or your silence and understanding. There was no money or jewel in the world that could make you understand and accept this situation.

"I'm sorry for the discourtesy, but I thought the flowers didn't go well in my room." You say simply, not bothering to look him in the eye.

It was obviously a lie, but you weren't going to be that blunt. Maybe he had a good excuse, right?

Deep down you knew it was just a foolish thought, because the truth was clearer than day.

"I see, I'll consider your opinion the next time I go to pick flowers." He says, the tone unmistakable from the distance between the two of you.

You nod, not paying much attention to his actual words. You knew it was a silent apology, but you still didn't know if you could accept it so easily.

Not least because it was a mistake of his that would be repeated, and you feared it would never stop.

Noticing your silence, he sighed. It was hard to admit that he missed hearing you jabbering with him, but at the end of the day it was an expected reaction on your part.

"I actually invited you here for another reason," He begins calmly, taking a seat on one of the benches in the courtyard.

You silently repeat the gesture, looking him in the eye and waiting for him to continue.

He lets out a quiet sigh, gently placing his hand on yours. A gesture that surprised you, to say the least.

Since when did he do this kind of thing with you?

"I need to go on a quick business trip, it'll last a few days. I just wanted to let you know." He mutters quietly, and genuinely doesn't seem happy with what he's just said.

You look at him a little puzzled, even suspicious. Why such a sudden trip? Just a few days before the wedding.

As if he had read your thoughts, he ran his thumb over the back of your covered hand, as if to reassure you of something.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be here until the wedding." The way he talked about the marriage in such a nonchalant way was enough to make you tense up a little.

Couldn't he at least pretend? Could he perhaps be less rude?

"I hope you're here, Your Highness." You said it slowly, and incredibly quietly, in a way that was a contrast to what you were feeling.

He noticed the way you narrowed your eyes, or even when you removed his hand from yours. Resting both your hands on your lap.

Then Leon nodded, correcting his sentence, "I'll be here. I wouldn't miss it."

And frankly, that didn't calm your heart one bit. What if he didn't show up? What if he decided to run away and just leave?

These were questions that plagued your mind, especially over the last few days. You couldn't imagine the embarrassment of this situation if it became real.

You already knew the ground you were standing on, and you were being very cautious not to let all this sink your future marriage even further.

"How many days will you be away?" You ask as you look at the bush of flowers.

The flowers that reminded you of so many things. Too bad most of those memories were negative.

"Probably four days at most. I don't want to spend too long away." He answered your question, his gaze not leaving yours for a single second.

It was as if he wanted to say more than he could, maybe he even regretted something. Or it could be something from your hopeful mind that was praying that this situation would somehow be reversed.

"And also, I wanted to talk to you about something else." He begins, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"Tell me, something to do with the trip?" You ask quietly, turning to give the prince your attention.

"I don't like the idea of you being alone while I'm away. I understand that there are several servants in the castle, but I'd still prefer to remain attentive." His words were enough to make you frown, pursing your lips into a small pout.

"No need to worry, you know I'm in good hands here." And indeed that was it, it wasn't as if you were somewhere dangerous.

In fact, you found his sudden concern strange.

"Even so, a friend I trust will be spending a few days at the castle. Chris Redfield, I suppose you've heard of him." Leon says while still placing his hand against yours.

You nodded in response, remembering the much-talked-about Duke who had recently arrived at the castle.

You hadn't imagined that he was a close friend of Leon's or anything like that, so it was actually a surprise.

"I'd like to introduce him to you." Leon says as he stands up, expecting you to accompany him.

You did so without much reluctance, even eager to see the so-called Duke. The dark-haired man was there, at the main entrance, having a conversation with the King, they seemed quite close.

But their attention soon turned to you and Leon, the couple of the moment. And you pretended so well that the people around you believed it.

Leon's father patted him on the shoulder, while Chris looked you up and down.

He was handsome, tall, strong and shapely, undoubtedly very popular with the ladies.

"A pleasure to meet you, princess." Chris says, bowing and smiling at you.

"My pleasure." You say with a gentle, genuine smile, looking at the man in front of you with tenderness.

The brief moment was interrupted by a group of stewards who came to whisper to Leon about the journey, warning him that he would have to check the carriage, just to make sure it was up to his standards, and take care of a few other things that you didn't quite understand.

With that, the king left with Leon to sort out what had to be done, and he didn't even bother to say goodbye to you.

"If you don't mind, I can take you for a walk." Chris says with a cutting smile, making it almost impossible to say no.

And well, it wasn't as if you had much to do at the moment, so there was no reason to refuse.Not to mention that Chris saw how disconcerted you were.

"Of course, I'm flattered." You say with a sweet smile, walking slowly through the castle as he follows you.

You couldn't think of a nicer person to spend the afternoon with. The man had so much experience, you could talk about so many subjects with him, and yet he could dissect each one perfectly.

You even found common subjects, and before you knew it you had spent the whole afternoon together, in fact it was already evening.

If it were up to you, you'd be talking to him for hours on end, but you knew you had your own things to do, and so did he.

You couldn't complain about the company you'd have for the next few days, it would help you not to feel so alone.It was a real shame when you had to say goodbye, after all, it was time for you to go to your quarters.

"Thanks for the company." You said with a genuine smile, stopping in front of your bedroom door.

Chris smiled, bowing to you, "My pleasure."

You couldn't tell, but from his tone, he seemed to be someone so subdued and gentle. A perfect contrast to Leon's personality.

You keep smiling, preparing to say goodbye to him, "Good evening, Duke."

He then says gently, "Good evening, Princess."

You nod and turn to enter your room, smiling from ear to ear, happy to have had a calmer moment after the recent storms.

"Were you outside at that time?" It was the first thing you heard as soon as you closed the door.

It was enough to make you look around your room, and it didn't take long for you to frown slightly, trying your best to keep your composure.

"Yes, prince. I was with the Duke…" You said quietly, looking at him calmly, acting as if his tone hadn't affected you.

For a moment you could have sworn you saw a sneer forming at the corner of his lips, as he got up from your bed and walked over to you.

"Forgive the inconvenience, princess. However, I don't think it's appropriate for you to stay late in the courtyard…" He begins, looking you up and down as if he were analyzing you, making sure you were in one piece.

You nodded, you could even think and know where this conversation was going. And you'd give in, maybe he'd make some sense.

"I can't imagine why." You say, moving to your dresser, sitting down on the small stool to start removing your jewelry.

It was clear that you knew the reason, yet you wanted him to refresh your memory.

You heard his sigh, as well as his impatient expression as you looked in the mirror.

"You know, princess. It's not proper for a woman to be out and about after eight o'clock, even more so with a man who isn't her husband." Leon says, trying his best to maintain his usual calm and inexpressive appearance.

He was probably only doing it to keep up the appearance of the two of you, so as not to make the situation even worse. You knew it was nothing sentimental, far from jealousy.

He couldn't be jealous of someone he didn't like.

"I don't understand the problem." You said nonchalantly, removing the sparkling necklace that was illuminated by the serene light in the room.

"People will talk, princess." He retorts, putting his hands on his hips and looking at you.

From his point of view, he didn't mind if you had someone else in your life, it would even be better because he would be free. But there was a contract to fulfill, a farce to maintain. And he was mad if he chose to compromise it in such a way.

You just smiled, raising your eyebrows while still admiring yourself in the mirror, "People talk about so many things."

You knew you had been bold, and that you had even overstepped the mark. But the look on his face was priceless.

He knew what you were referring to, he knew perfectly well where your hint had been directed.

You watched his lips press together in irritation as he narrowed his eyes. He wasn't naive and understood the allusion in your words.

And that was all he needed to move closer to you, taking the opportunity to place his cold hand on your shoulder, as if to make you feel his presence, or even to remind you of why he was here.

"We shouldn't give way to unnecessary speculation." He says seriously, putting both hands on your shoulders, looking at you through the mirror.

You'd be lying if you said his touch didn't send shivers down your spine, making you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

As well as the gasp you couldn't contain as soon as you felt his lips on your ear, his warm breath against your skin, unconsciously making you clutch the fabric of your dress tightly.

"We should avoid misunderstandings. You know…" He whispers, making a point of keeping his piercing blue eyes on you.

He knew the power he had over you, and wouldn't hesitate to use a little manipulation to keep you under control.

You turned your face towards him, getting so close that your lips were almost touching, the tip of his nose brushing lightly against yours.

If you looked closely, you could see that the distance in his gaze had gone, and deep down there was a new expression in those eyes that were so cold.

Sympathy? Inquisitiveness? Apprehension?

You couldn't say for sure, but it was something new. You risked saying that maybe, just maybe, he was seeing you differently.

It was a low blow on his part, but he had you at his mercy, and he was willing to use that to his advantage.

"Avoiding misunderstandings…" You murmured, not failing to look him in the eye for a second.

The closeness was enough to make you feel butterflies in your stomach, to make your breathing quicken without the slightest intention.

"Yes, dear." The nickname that rolled off his lips so naturally that you believed the tenderness in his voice.

He moved away from you with a calculated elegance, looking at your features through the mirror. He knew he had won this time.

You sighed discreetly, straightening your posture as you stared at him.

God, how could he have such an effect on you?

He knew you'd gotten the message, he knew he'd made it perfectly clear what he wanted. It didn't take long for him to realize that his words had already been absorbed by you, and he wasn't going to repeat them.

"I wish you a good night, Your Highness." He says with a brief, sideways smile, then leaves your room.

You stare at the closed door, feeling your heart flutter in such a way.

Did he really think of you like that?

Dear… That's what he called you.

Oh, heavens. How you'd beg just to hear him call you 'my dear'.

Just once more.

It couldn't hurt, could it?

[sleepysnk]

a/n: i was feeling under the weather the past few days and i actually was able to get some inspo for some headcanons! i hope you all enjoy! 🫶🏻 also don’t ever get sick </3 it’s annoying as hell.

characters: manjiro (mikey) sano, ken (draken) ryuguji, baji keisuke, hanma shuji

warnings: fluff, reader is sick, sickness (nothing too bad just a cold), mentions of vomit, mentions of food, use of pet names (baby, my girl, princess, babydoll, doll, babe), very very fluffy content.

TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE SICK.

manjiro (mikey) sano:

- oh boy, expect something a little odd from mikey of all people. he doesn’t really know how to take care of someone when they’re sick.

- you had woken up in the middle of the night shivering your ass off. it took you forever to fall back asleep, but when you woke up the next morning, you felt awful. you kept breaking out in cold sweats and your body just get terribly achy the whole time. you assumed you had caught something from someone at work, because many of your coworkers called out a few days prior because of illness.

- mikey decided to swing by when you didn’t show up at your usual meeting spot earlier in the day. he grew curious on your whereabouts, so he made his way to your place and found you swaddled in blankets and the most comfiest clothes you could find.

- completely dumbfounded. he honestly thought you were planning some kind of sleepover or something.

- “babe, why are you doing that? did you plan something without me?! your own boyfriend!”

- then when he noticed how uncomfortable you looked, he picked up on the fact that you were clearly unwell. there were tissues scattered along your bedside table and your skin looked a bit lighter than it usually would. you also seemed fairly exhausted and it made your boyfriend worried.

- you tried telling him to leave because you didn’t want him to catch whatever you had, but he refused. he told you time and time again that you were his girlfriend and it was his job to take care of you.

- mikey decided to go out and find you whatever you needed (with the help of draken of course). he found whatever he could to possibly make a person feel better. soup, medicine, gatorade for the electrolytes, etc! he also had to buy himself a dorayaki on the way, but otherwise he managed to find some pretty nice things for you to feel at ease.

- he actually makes a nice bowl of soup for you to enjoy. mikey also makes sure to lend you one of his sweaters so you don’t get cold at night. it’s super adorable and he honestly gets so worried 😭. he makes you call him every night before bed so he can make sure you haven’t somehow passed away or something.

- you guys can’t kiss, but he makes sure to give you a nice forehead smooch every time he swings by your place.

- he is so salty he can’t makeout with you :/.

- when you start to feel somewhat better, he comes over and watches movies with you. you find that his presence helps you sleep a little better. he probably rubs your head and let’s you lay on him so you can get a nice rest. it’s so cute and he sometimes whispers nice things in your ear so you can feel more relaxed. he’s such a sweet boy <3.

- he’s a sweetheart, don’t ever lose this man.

draken (ken) ryuguji:

- he’s such a good boyfriend. i can’t help but say this every time i talk about this goddamn man. i think you can expect the best from draken of all people.

- you had gotten home from work and you were honestly exhausted. you thought you needed a nap or something, but that wasn’t the case. you woke up the next morning with the worst headache ever, and your throat felt like it was sandpaper every time you swallowed. draken noticed your change in behavior immediately, and was very concerned by it.

- draken instantly went into protective boyfriend mode. he made sure that you were keeping yourself hydrated and getting lots of rest, because he didn’t want something bad happening to you. you were his baby. he worried for you more than anything else.

- i hc this man knows how to cook a good meal for you. he definitely went to the grocery store and picked up some stuff for you. he’d make a really nice soup that’d make you feel all warm and fuzzy. it’s all you really feel like eating during the time you’re unwell, so expect lots of soups and other things of the sort. other foods taste horrendous and you can hardly stand them.

- he’s like a total caregiver. he checks on you every chance he gets and always makes sure you’re doing okay. draken constantly reminds you to take your medicine and eat and drink properly. even if you hate it, he’s always making sure you’re okay. he could never lose you.

- “hey baby, how’s my girl doing today? you take your medicine? make sure you finish up your soup. i’ll bring you extra water too.”

- he LOVES to take showers with you. he knows you two shouldn’t be that close, but he also wants you soothe your worries. i feel like he’d be the type to give you massages and help clean your body. he wishes he could kiss you, but he knows that he’ll fall ill. he doesn’t want to burden you with that, so he makes sure to hug you from behind or kiss the top of your head.

- hoodies. hoodies. hoodies. he will give you all of them so you feel warm at night. don’t worry, he’ll also make sure to cuddle you if you have a chill from a fever. he knows how hard it can be to deal with one, so he’ll be by your side for all of it!!

- he so puts the blankets in the dryer so they’re nice and warm for you!

- HE SO WANTS A KISS.

- “no, no kisses.” “aw! come on :(“

- when you start feeling better, he is so relieved to see you back on your feet. you can finally eat regular foods and he’s honestly so glad that you’re back to your usual self. he’d honestly probably cook you something, like a favorite dish. you’d thank this man for everything because he was truly a savior while you were sick in bed.

- however.. he does feel a scratch in his throat later on.

baji keisuke:

- say what you want, but this man is kind of dense. i’m not saying he’s dumb or anything like that all the time, but he can be clueless.

- you woke up the previous night feeling horribly nauseated. your stomach was in knots and you actually ended up catching some kind of stomach bug. you also threw up in the bathroom and it was horrible. you weren’t sure how you had gotten sick, or where you could have gotten the bug, but it was hell. you could hardly fall asleep that night from the stomach pains you felt.

- baji knew something was off the next day when you didn’t come swing by his house like you usually did. he grew really worried so he took a trip and found you in your bed, curled up in a ball looking not so great.

- he honestly thought you were pranking him or something. you had done it before.

- ��hey, get up. i know you’re messing around with me right now.”

- after sort of yelling at him, he quickly realized you weren’t joking. he could see how sick you looked and he felt guilty for not believing you. you explained that you hadn’t felt great and you were throwing up your guts the entire night. he wondered if it was because you had eaten at a new restaurant just a few days prior. however, that shouldn’t have been the main focus. he wanted to be a good guy and take care of you because he felt horrible seeing you that way.

- he went to the store and bought you things that could soothe your stomach. his mom had informed him that it’s best to eat soft foods when suffering with a stomach virus, so he bought you some soup and make sure to give you extra water.

- he’s the type to rub your tummy if it feels upset or tight. he knows how bad those stomach aches can be, so he’d make sure to massage you nice and well. also, if you do end up throwing up again, he will hold your hair back and clean up any messes you might make. he’s gonna deal with it all, and he doesn’t care about anything but your well being.

- “baby, drink your water. don’t forget to! i don’t want you feeling worse!”

- total worrywart. he hates to admit it but seeing you in such a state makes him feel so bad 😭. he knows he shouldn’t feel bad, but he just can’t help it. you’re his girlfriend and you mean the world to him. he wouldn’t want something bad to happen to you because he wasn’t there to properly take care of you. that’s why he’s sticking by your side as much as possible.

- he probably would lay with you in bed while you tried to take a nap. he’d be running his fingers along your skin and trying his best to soothe any pain you might have. it’s super cute and he sweet talks you the entire time to make sure you feel relaxed.

- eventually, the bug passes and you feel a lot better within the coming days. poor guy was so fucking worried but you managed to pull through it without any issues. baji probably reminds himself to never let you eat at that restaurant again 😭 and he also makes a note to never go there either.

- better thank him, because you’ll get lots of cuddles and kisses in return ;).

hanma shuji:

- hanma is a very busy man. he has shit to do and things to take care of, like you, but he was completely blindsided when you started to feel sick.

- you were a shivering mess the previous night when you were trying to fall asleep. you just couldn’t get warm and hanma woke up to you shaking like a leaf next to him. he assumed that maybe the heater had turned off or something, but when he awoke the next morning and heard you coughing up a lung, he knew something wasn’t okay with you. it was really worrying for the man.

- “hey, i’m taking you to the doctor, doll. put on something warm.”

- the doctor eventually revealed that you had the flu. your temperature was fairly high and he prescribed some medications for you. hanma was relieved to know that it wasn’t anything too bad, but he wanted to be a good boyfriend and care for you. he hated seeing his princess all sick and exhausted in bed, so he figured he’d help you with it all.

- such. a. fucking. king. he’d take a few days off of work and tell anyone who protests to go fuck themselves.

- hanma would definitely make sure you’re comfortable at home. he buys you plenty of tissues, ibuprofen, etc! he also lets you wear his clothes because he knows you’ll be more comfortable that way. he cooks you some nice food as well, and he even serves you tea for your sore throat. it’s all really sweet, so expect the real princess treatment if you’re not feeling good.

- he also doesn’t care if you get him sick. he’ll cuddle with you, kiss your head, hold you, everything. he’s like a damn furnace and his body heat honestly helps with the chill that comes with a fever.

- “just come here, babydoll. it’s just a little cold or whatever.. could care less about myself.”

- he makes sure you nap often. sleep is honestly some of the best medicine a human being could have, so he lets you fall asleep in his arms a lot. it usually happens after you’ve eaten some soup or watched a movie with him after a really long day. hanma will always make sure you’re well rested and taking care of yourself. it doesn’t matter how far he may be or what the risks might be.

- has probably teased you a few times for being sick 😭. he’d poke fun at you by cleaning up your tissues and making a gross face whenever he sees the snots all over them. you know he’s joking but you can’t help but throw a damn pillow at his head.

- when he does go back to work, he makes sure to call you and check in as many times as he can. he reminds you to take your medicine and that he’ll be home as soon as possible to take care of you. it doesn’t matter how much you reassure him, he will blow up your damn phone to make sure you’re not dead or anything. it’s super cute though. he always knows what to say to make you feel much better.

- once you do get better, he’s very relieved. your fever broke and you were feeling much happier within the coming days. hanma gave you all the kisses and lovings he could possibly give out. it’s super cute.

- he’s such a sweetheart ugh 🥲.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary

i can't find any hard evidence.

good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.

i'm coming with you.

sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.

i just couldn't take it anymore.

maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.

if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.

i thought you were dead.

it sure is good to see a friendly face.

at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.

my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.

i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.

nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?

don't make me laugh, damn it.

some women find facial scars attractive.

i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.

when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.

kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.

what do you want from me, [name]?

i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.

it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.

my instincts are what got me into this mess.

never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.

well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.

if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.

you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.

you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.

i brought wine.

your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.

hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.

i want something to go right. just once.

think you can win this thing, [name]?

i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.

so... is this the part where we shake hands?

the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.

i've been doing some more research on human customs.

glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.

let's not go there.

i can afford the good stuff.

what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.

don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.

if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.

still trying to make me blush, huh?

i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.

it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.

the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.

not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.

i've actually seen you dance. no comment.

i know there are other things you're good at.

probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.

so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?

it gets even better when you try it in bed.

you don't lack for places to get lost.

did we break anything last night?

you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.

if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.

forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.

come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

we're in this 'til the end.

we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.

looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.

if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.

oh crap!

guess he didn’t like the food.

looks like we got the jump.

pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.

we won’t get a second chance.

that was me, sorry.

nothing like being stranded.

we’ll do more than that.

just the usual minor flesh wound.

what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?

i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.

stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.

drinks will be on me.

one of my favorite places to fight!

i’m hard to kill. you should know that.

it’s gonna be bad all over.

for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.

you’ve waited long enough for this day.

just wait ‘til this war is over.

you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.

maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?

how do i not have one of those?

surprise on our side for once. i like it.

brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.

[lvrdrafts]

Rescued by Love Part 2

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

The prospect of an arranged marriage had always seemed like a relic of the past, something that belonged to a different era. Yet here you were, facing this reality head-on as you prepared to meet the parents of the man you were about to marry – Bucky Barnes.

At first you were very nervous meeting them but as the conversations flowed, you found yourself laughing at Mr. Barnes' witty anecdotes, and Mrs. Barnes even shared a few embarrassing stories about Bucky's childhood. The tension that once hung in the air seemed to dissipate, and for a while, you allowed yourself to believe that things were changing for the better.

As dessert was served, Bucky's father leaned back in his chair, a contented smile on his face. "I must admit, I'm surprised. You've managed to bring a certain charm to this place. I can't believe Bucky was able to find someone" he says and you laugh.

"I'm just happy my son brought a decent girl to marry." Bucky's mother says with a smile. With all these compliments you felt as if this arranged marriage wouldn't be that bad.

After some time, you excused yourself to use the bathroom, a small smile playing on your lips as you left the room. As you walked back, your footsteps light, you couldn't help but overhear a conversation that left you frozen in place.

"You know," Bucky's mother voice was hushed but still audible, "She's charming, but not exactly what I expected"

Bucky's father's response was just as cutting, "Well, she may not be that pretty, but if she can bring us a lot of heirs, that should make up for it."

Your heart sank, the weight of their words pressing down on you like a heavy stone. The moment shattered the illusion you had dared to hold onto, the belief that you were making progress in winning their approval. And then, Bucky's voice, his tone almost resigned, "I'm marrying her because of necessity, not because of her looks."

Tears stung at your eyes as you grappled with the realization that the warmth and acceptance you had felt might have been nothing more than a facade. The hurt cut deep, and you struggled to hold back the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall, and pushed open the door. Entering the room, you did your best to compose yourself, your emotions hidden behind a practiced smile. "I hope I didn't miss anything important."

Bucky's parents exchanged glances, their expressions revealing nothing of the conversation you had inadvertently overheard. "Of course not, dear" Bucky's mother replied, her smile almost too sweet.

And so, you resumed your place at the table, the weight of their words heavy on your heart. You engaged in the conversation, playing your part in the façade, all the while feeling the distance between you and the family grow.

As the evening drew to a close, you exchanged polite goodbyes, a sense of emptiness settling within you. The illusion of acceptance had been shattered, and you were left to grapple with the reality of their expectations.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

After the whirlwind evening at the Barnes estate, marked by both fleeting warmth and heartbreaking revelations, the days that followed were a blur. The weight of impending changes hung over you like a storm cloud as you and Bucky moved forward with the marriage arrangements. The papers were signed, sealing your fate within this complicated alliance.

A few days later, you found yourself standing in your own home, surrounded by half-packed boxes. The reality of leaving your life behind to move into Bucky's home felt like an overwhelming prospect. You folded a shirt, your mind wandering between thoughts of the past and apprehensions about the future.

And yet, the past was a shadow that refused to fade. Every item you folded seemed to hold memories – memories of the years you spent with Steve a man who had harbored resentment for as long as you could remember.

While in your thoughts you hear footsteps and you turn around to see the man himself. "I'm happy you're leaving. Maybe now I can finally have some peace" Steve's voice, filled with bitterness, echoed in your mind as you folded a cherished sweater.

Tears fell onto the fabric, as if your sorrow had seeped into every fiber. The weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest, and it felt like you were carrying the weight of his blame as you placed the sweater in the suitcase.

"This is a blessing in disguise – well, for me, really. At least I won't have to see your face around here anymore." Steve says chuckling at the sight of your tears.

The words struck like a dagger, reopening wounds that had never truly healed. "Steve, I didn't ask for any of this. I lost her too, and I've carried that pain with me every day."

He scoffed, his eyes narrowing in disdain. "You think your life is hard, well its not harder then mine. You may have lost her, but you didn't suffer like I did. You didn't have to watch her die."

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you struggled to contain your emotions. "Well at least you didn't lose your mother, and your brother you asshole!" you scream.

Steve looks at you with no emotion and you can't see if you hurt him that badly or he just doesn't care that much. "Get the fuck out of my house and I don't want to see you again" Steve says walking away.

As he walked away, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands. The room felt emptier now, your belongings neatly packed and ready to leave behind the pain and resentment that had defined your relationship with Steve.

Taglist:

@cjand10 @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @hereticdance @kentokaze @bruher @tupperwarefullofdirt

[booksash]

ACTFL QUOTES!MINOR SPOILERS!

I asked some of my Goodreads friends,who read ACTFL,to share some quotes from the book.One quote is a little bit spoilery,but i will put it at the end of the post,if you do not want to read it.Here are the quotes:

"You are not in danger.I'm here because a friend of ours needs help- your help.He's about to make a horrible decision and you need to change his mind before it's too late to save him."

"-I would have thought you like bad ideas.

-Only when they're mine."

"But soon there was more light than dark.A world of bright as if the sky and the ground has switched places and now Earth was covered in shimmering stars."

"It's my fault.It's too late now."

”But just because he was all she had didn't mean that she needed to give him all the power. "

”Evangeline spun to the side and slapped him hard across the face. The sound of her hand hitting his cheek echoed through the inn, loud, cracking, and satistying."

“"Please, Little Fox, remember."

"Her hope might have been powerful, but it wasn't magic. It wasn't enough.“

"I just forgot to breathe."

"We can go wherever you want, little fox."

" "I know I seem naive," Evangeline pressed on. "I know my faith in love might appear foolish. I also know it might not be enough. But I'm not doing this because I believe I'll win. I'm actually a little afraid I'm going to lose. I no longer think love is a guarantee of victory or of happily ever after. But I think it's a reason to fight for those things." "

"It was only a flash—but her cheeks felt flushed.Apollo smiled, clearly thinking he was the reason."

MINOR SPOILERS!

"She was safe in her bed. She'd be even safer when he left her. But he was too selfish to leave just yet."

"She was better off not knowing him. But he was enough of a bastard to hate that she’d forgotten."

"He wanted her to look at him, just once, and know him the way she had before."

"I lied," he said. "I do wish that we could have had a different ending."

"And she wanted nothing more than for him to stay."

"He'd said he wished their story could have had a different ending, as if they'd already reached the final page.But Evangeline wanted more pages"

"Bastard. Murderer. Monster.I hate you, Evangeline wanted to say."

SPOILERS!

"She was choosing Jacks.She was choosing wrong."

"But maybe the reason for the warning about falling in love with Fates wasn't because loving a Fate could never work, but because it was so much harder. Nearly impossible."

Yes ,i am a monster.I enjoy hurting people.I like blood.I like pain.I am a monster,but wether you remember it or not,i'm your monster."

[daydreamingyuta]

Could you write a jaehyun x reader & them hugging like the scene in tangled? The one where she jumps over the couch and they hug each other tightly hehe

I SAW THAT SCENE AND I COULDNT STOP THINKING OF JAEHYUN 😭😭😭😭😭

Necklace | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, drabble, boyfriend!jaehyun decides to surprise you with a necklace you've been wanting for a while, because he knows your reaction will be cute. a/n: stopp this is such a cute request! thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy reading! <3 wc: 627

You really thought Jaehyun wasn’t listening to you. You tried to not let it bother you, it’s really not that big of a deal. However, deep down inside you couldn’t help but be a little sad. 

You had been talking about this gorgeous necklace from Tiffany’s for a while now, hoping that Jaehyun would get the not-so-subtle hint that you wanted him to get it for you. It seemed like everytime you mentioned it, he was only passively listening. It wasn’t like you expected him to get it for you, but his unresponsiveness was what was killing you. Little did you know, Jaehyun just wanted to surprise you with the necklace once he got it. 

When he had asked you to come over to his apartment after work, you didn’t suspect a thing. You two tried to see each other as much as you could, so nothing about this felt irregular. 

“Hey, angel. How was work?” Jaehyun says, engulfing you in a warm hug that feels like heaven. You take a moment to take in the scent of his fresh clothes and cologne that never failed to make you feel at home. 

“It was alright. You know that big project that we’ve been working on? It’s stressing me out so bad, but it looks like it will be done by the end of next week.” 

“Hm.” Jaehyun hums, rubbing your shoulders to try and relax you. “Why don’t you go into my closet and change into some of my comfortable clothes so you can de-stress?”

Your face lights up when he says this, you loved wearing his clothes so much. You practically skip into his room and pick out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. By the time you’re changed, Jaehyun was on the couch in the living room. 

“Y/n, come into the living room when you're done.” Jaehyun yells, so that you’ll be able to hear him, he must not have noticed you right behind him. You were about to say something, when you noticed a little blue Tiffany’s bag. You could barely hold in your excitement, not at the necklace itself, but the fact that Jaehyun had been listening to you this whole time, and went out of his way to get you something to make you happy.

You couldn’t help but rush to him with a big hug that causes you to fall on the couch, right next to him, his arm tightly around your waist supporting you up. “Jae, you got it for me?” You beam, pulling him into a sweet kiss.

“Are you surprised?” Jaehyun asked, with a very pleased look on his face.

“Of course, I really didn’t think you were listening to me.”

“Hm, I’m sorry. I just thought it would make my pretty girl happier if I surprised you.” 

You nod your head adamantly, “It was definitely better, Jae.

He takes the necklace out of the bag and signals for you to turn around so that he can put it on you. You oblige and lift your hair up as well. He clasps the necklace on and places a sweet kiss on the back of your neck before turning you around so he can see it. He touches your collarbone and traces his finger down to the necklace, lifting it up to admire it. “Pretty.”

You can’t help but give him another kiss before you go look at it in the mirror. It’s such a beautiful necklace, you honestly can’t believe you’re wearing it right now. Jaehyun comes behind you while you’re admiring it in the mirror and wraps his arms around your waist and sways gently. “I love spoiling you, angel.” He says, pressing more kisses onto your neck, before resting his head on your shoulder. 

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [party twenty-eight] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Jisung was waiting on the bed when you made it back to your room. He raised his eyebrows expectantly when you came into view.

“So where were you?” he asked. 

All you’d responded to his text with was be right there, not giving him an answer of any sort. You had tried to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse for why you weren’t in the room yourself, but that had evidently backfired on you since you still had nothing. You’d tied your wet hair back in the hopes of making it look less obvious that you had just taken a shower since you were still wearing your dirty clothes, but that was honestly the least of your worries

“I was with Minho,” you answered, figuring a half-truth was better than a full lie.

“Doing what?” 

“He felt bad for me, I guess. Didn’t want me to be alone so he invited me to hang out.”

Jisung seemed to buy it, but he still looked confused. “You know you didn’t have to say yes, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I know. I said yes because I wanted to. Your brothers can be fun to be around.”

 “I guess,” he murmured.

“Not as fun as you, don’t worry,” you reassured him. 

“I wasn’t worried!”

“Sure you weren’t.”

He brushes you off by shaking his head in denial before changing the subject. “Anyway, did you guys eat? Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“I think there’s a place down the street that’s still open where we could go grab some soup, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“Sure, but didn’t you already eat with Felix?”

“Yeah, I was just gonna tag along so you could have some company.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

The streets were unsurprisingly empty. It was strange to see the wide sidewalks devoid of all of the foot traffic you had grown accustomed to in big cities like this. The restaurant Jisung had mentioned was a little hole-in-the-wall noodle shop squished in between department stores. A flickering neon sign hanging in the window above the door was the only indication that it was still open and you still hesitated before pushing open the door, just in case it was actually closed and they had forgotten to turn off the sign. 

It was about as busy as you’d expected. There were couples and groups of friends scattered throughout the room, all grabbing a quick bite to eat at the only place whose kitchen was still open at the late hour. 

Everyone else was dressed to go out and you were still wearing your stupid Han Family Vacation t-shirt. Jisung had put on a hoodie over his so at least you weren’t matching. 

He helped you order from the English menu and then picked a booth for you both in the back of the restaurant. 

“Thanks for this,” you sighed, holding up the receipt and gesturing to the place.

“Least I could do after ditching you.”

“You didn’t ditch me, Ji. I had to practically beg you to go to that thing with Felix.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.”

“You’re so stubborn!” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Why do you think we’re best friends?”

“Because you didn’t know anybody when you started school and I was the first sorry sucker that you stumbled across.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Shut up.”

You tried to kick him underneath the table but he saw it coming and moved his leg before your foot could make contact. 

“Nice try.”

A server delivered your soup shortly after the kicking incident and dropped off a plate of dumplings as well. You almost told them you didn’t order them, but Jisung simply thanked them and slid the plate over to his side of the table.

“I thought you already ate,” you mumbled in confusion.

“I did but that was hours ago,” he responded defensively. “And I know you hate eating alone.”

You smiled gratefully and leaned down to slurp up some of the broth from your miso soup. It burned your tongue a little, but you still managed to swallow it. Soup was best piping hot anyway- unless of course, it’s a fruit bisque or gazpacho, but that’s a different story. 

When soup is hot, you can feel it warming you from the inside out. That’s why everyone eats it when it’s cold outside or when they’re sick with chills. At least, that’s what your mother always told you to get you to eat soup. 

The miso soup wasn’t your mother’s chicken noodle that was actually from a can, but it still comforted you the same. Your cramps had already subsided from the medicine you took… and from the orgasm Minho had given you, but food also soothed the ache. 

“Want a dumpling?” Jisung offered, holding one of the wontons out to you with his chopsticks. 

You opened your mouth as an answer and he fed it to you, nearly dropping it into your soup in the process. 

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. 

“Very good,” you agreed. 

Once you were both done you cleared your bowls and set them in the bin by the door, thanking the cashier again before letting yourselves out. You were in no rush to get back to the hotel, but you did have to get up early the next day to get everything on the itinerary done before your flight in the evening. 

You took another shower when you made it back to your room, saving yourself the trouble of lying to Jisung again. You needed to get the fried food smell out of your hair anyway. 

You crawled into bed after trading the shower with Jisung, willing yourself to fall asleep before he was done so that you wouldn’t have to lie awake next to him feeling guilty like you had the night prior. 

It must have worked because the next time you opened your eyes it was light outside. It was your alarm, not the sunlight, that had woken you up though. You rolled over with a groan to shut it off, noticing you had a couple of texts from Minho. Jisung was waking up next to you so you ignored them, turning your phone face down on the bedside table just in case he looked over. 

“Ready for another day of family fun?” he groaned. 

“Always.”

You got ready together and packed the rest of your things in your suitcase. Since you were only in Beijing for a couple of days, you hadn’t really made the effort to unpack. Everything was easily stuffed back into your luggage in a matter of minutes. You helped Jisung with his while he brushed his teeth. He had always been slow to get ready. 

Despite your best friend’s speed or lack thereof, you and Jisung were the first ones down in the lobby. The rest of his family members trickled in slowly. First Felix, then Minho, and finally his parents. 

You checked your bags with a luggage storage facility a block or so from the hotel so that you could walk around the city without worrying about it. The service was actually quite cheap and came with an option to insure your items just in case anything were to happen to them. You didn’t have anything valuable in your belongings aside from your laptop, but even that wasn’t anything crazy expensive. You couldn’t say the same of the rest of the Hans. Minho’s backpack alone was some fancy brand you didn’t recognize. Dom paid the extra fee for the insurance and herded everyone outside so that you could make it to the Forbidden City before scrambling to the airport. 

- 

You’d think with how much traveling you’d been doing in the past month that you’d be used to the chaos of airport security and customs but somehow you were still caught off guard by the TSA agents randomly selecting you to be searched. 

“Fucking again?” you muttered to yourself as they pulled you aside.

“You’re just lucky, babe,” Jisung said sweetly with a pat on your back.

This time, he waited for you while the rest of the Hans went ahead to the gate. It didn’t take as long since you were the only one from the group that was selected. 

“They’re about to start boarding, c’mon,” he ushered you through the terminal as soon as you were released, leading you by the hand as you weaved through the crowds. The whole ordeal gave you a strange sense of deja vu. 

His parents were waiting by the front desk at the gate. They explained that Felix and Minho had already boarded and that you and Jisung should go ahead and board too while they sorted something out. 

“Do you think everything’s okay?” you asked as you scanned your boarding pass. 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he assured you, not sounding entirely confident in the matter. 

“I can take the middle seat this time,” you offered, shimmying through the aisle so that you could walk and talk to Jisung at the same time. 

“Are you sure? It’s a long flight.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted. “You’ve sat in the middle like every time so far.”

“That’s because I want you to be comfortable.”

“That’s very chivalrous of you.”

“I know, I’m a great boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes and let Jisung squeeze by to settle into the window seat before sliding in next to him. You made eye contact with Minho as you hovered in the aisle. He was a handful of rows back with Felix and some stranger. He raised two fingers to his eyebrow in a cocky little salute, making you roll your eyes yet again. 

Minho’s pick for the family trip was Bali, Indonesia. Unfortunately, there was no direct flight to Bali from Beijing which meant that you’d have to make two connections before finally touching down on the island. 

Jisung told you that he picked it because he was a sucker for nostalgia. Apparently, the three of them had visited together a few years ago during one of the tour legs for his backup dancing and had the best time. He had loved it so much that he’d wanted to go back ever since and bring their parents but was so busy that he never had the chance until now. 

The seat next to you stayed empty until the very last minute, giving you the false hope that you’d score extra space. It was eventually filled by a girl who looked to be about your age, who greeted you and Jisung politely before sticking her AirPods in her ears and ignoring you entirely.

You could tell that your best friend was into her as soon as he laid eyes on her. She was exactly his type- thick, tall, and she wasn’t giving him an ounce of attention. She checked all of his boxes.

“Keep it in your pants,” you muttered, unsure of whether she could hear you and/or speak English. You didn’t care either way.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” he shot back defensively. 

“Yeah, well your eyes are about to pop out of your head. Dial it back.”

“Shhh!”

“Oh sorry, am I embarrassing you?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“Sucks.”

“You’re the worst wing-woman ever.”

You nudged him subtly with your shoulder. “I’m not a wing-woman, I’m your girlfriend.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Yes, dear,” he sighed and laced his fingers with yours. 

You leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe she could be our third.”

His eyes widened. “Really?” 

“No!”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind having a threesome with a stranger, especially if they were as pretty as the woman next to you. It wouldn’t be your first time. But you could never cross that line with your best friend, especially now that you were involved with Minho.

You felt a little guilty for cockblocking him since you were getting laid, by his brother of all people, but there was just no feasible way to make it happen for him. 

“Even if you did have enough game to pull her, there’s no way you’d be able to get away with a quickie in between flights.”

You kept glancing at the girl next to you out of fear that she was listening in and totally creeped out and horrified by your conversation about her, but she still had her earbuds in and appeared to have dozed off. 

“You don’t know what I’m capable of!”

“Yes, I do! I’ve spent too many nights in your living room being forced to hear what you’re capable of.”

Jisung scoffed at you. “Perv.”

“What part of ‘forced to hear’ didn’t click?” 

He glared but didn’t respond. Your whispering was beginning to get heated so you mutually decided to stop talking for the time being so that no one would be able to overhear you. Instead, you just traded increasingly absurd looks until you both got bored. 

Jisung was the first to fall asleep, slumping against the wall of the plane in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. He’d forgotten to close the shade of the window so you leaned over and closed it for him so that the setting sun wouldn’t wake him up. 

You were about to join him, leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You weren’t used to receiving notifications on a plane, but the airline you were flying had in-flight service. You had to shift awkwardly in order to reach your pocket and not wake either of the people beside you up. 

The message made you want to scoff aloud. 

M: is ji asleep?? come to the back ;)

You sat up straight and craned your neck to try and catch Minho’s eye, but his head was down, probably buried in his phone. 

Y: what? no.

M: why not

Y: just because he’s asleep doesn’t mean i can come see you for no reason that’d be weird

M: are you just saying that because you’re afraid he’ll wake up?

Y: well yeah kind of

M: he won’t

Y: you don’t know that

M: c’mon, i’ll make it worth your time

Y: can’t you just tell me what this is about

M: but that ruins the surprise :(

Y: what surprise could you possibly have 30,000 feet in the air

Y: and don’t say your dick

M: …

Y: you’re so fucking annoying

M: all i’m saying is i haven’t joined the mile high club yet

Y: this is a commercial flight with your entire family. we’re not fucking on this plane.

M: worth a shot

Y: you’re insufferable

M: you love it

You sighed and put your phone face down in your lap, taking a quick glance to your left to see if Jisung was still asleep. He was still slumped against the wall with his eyes shut, seemingly dead to the world. You tried to do the same but it was hard from the middle seat. You were paranoid that if you were to doze off you’d accidentally lean over onto the stranger next to you. You’d seen enough rom-coms to know how awkward that would be.

You settled on scrolling through the in-flight movies on the little screen attached to the seat in front of you. You’d have to buy a pair of earbuds to watch anything, but you figured it would be worth it if it meant you wouldn’t be bored out of your mind for the next three hours. 

There was a mix of Chinese and international films but everything was dubbed in Chinese either way and only a select few offered English subtitles. You picked one that you’d seen a little bit of press for back home and bought the earbuds from a flight attendant when they came around with the snacks. 

-

It was late when your first flight landed and everyone was feeling worn out from all the tourism and traveling but you still had two more flights to catch before you’d finally be in Bali. The layover in the Hong Kong airport was two hours and you spent it trying to sleep whilst curled up next to Jisung in one of the stiff leathery chairs in front of the gate. Your exhaustion allowed you to fade in and out of consciousness fairly easily, but you were having trouble staying asleep. Each time you’d drift off you would suddenly jolt awake in a panic, thinking you were late for something. 

Every time it happened, Jisung would assure you that he’d wake you up when it was time to board the plane, that you could rest, that they wouldn’t leave without you. Eventually, you gave up on the idea of getting any sleep altogether and resolved to just stay awake until you were on the next flight. 

“I know this is the part of the trip where everyone’s getting tired,” Dom had said when you were walking from one side of the Hong Kong airport to the other, “but that’s why we saved the more relaxing destinations for the latter end- so we can all get some rest.”

His words did little to comfort you considering most of your energy was being spent keeping up with all the lies you were telling everyone but you smiled and nodded with the rest of the group anyway, trying to play along as always. 

The second flight was about the same length as the first and this time you got the window seat. Jisung sat in the middle with Felix on his right and Minho and their parents filled up the row behind you. 

“You should sleep,” Jisung suggested, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“I’ve been trying to,” you grumbled back, unable to soften the tone of your voice. 

You felt bad for snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. Not after everything else you were doing behind his back. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled in apology. 

“It’s okay. I know you’re tired,” he assured you, making you feel even guiltier. “Do you want me to rub your head?”

You could only shake your head in response, not trusting yourself to speak. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to cry and turned your head towards the wall as your eyes welled up with tears. You didn’t even try to stop it, knowing it would be even more obvious if you did. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it from Jisung either, even if he couldn’t see your face. He knew you too well, knew your body language. But he didn’t ask about it, likely not wanting to alert Felix, who was oblivious, that anything was wrong. 

Thankfully, the crying exhausted you even more and you were able to fall asleep, only to be woken up again when the flight landed at the second layover stop.

It was a shame that you wouldn’t be able to properly visit Malaysia but at least their airport was pretty nice. It had been several hours since you’d last eaten so Nikki ordered a bunch of food for everyone to share from the only kiosk that was open in the middle of the night. You shared a thing of white rice with Jisung but you didn’t have much of an appetite to try anything else which was a bummer since you didn’t know when you’d have another chance to.  

The third and final flight was a few hours later. By then, you’d had a little food and sleep so you weren’t feeling as dramatically miserable as before but the numb feeling of guilt still lingered in your stomach. You assumed that wouldn’t change- not until you came clean to Jisung about… everything. And you couldn’t see yourself doing that any time in the foreseeable future because you were a pussy. 

You’d rather end this fling with Minho now and take it to your grave than lose your friendship with Jisung. Was sleeping with someone twice considered a fling? Regardless, you had to end it before you got too attached. You weren’t sure what it was for Minho, but until he said otherwise you would stay under the impression that it was just sex. Again, it didn’t really matter what it was. You just had to put an end to it. You weren’t sure why you thought you could finally give into the sexual tension just because Minho found out you weren’t actually dating his brother but it didn’t matter now. It was too late and you were already suffering the consequences of your actions. 

You’d given Jisung the window seat again which left you sandwiched in between him and Minho this time around, and being so close to him was making it difficult not to think about the intimate moments you’d shared with him. Your arms were just barely brushing against the armrest and yet that was the only part of your body that you could feel. He was just so warm that your attention was drawn to wherever your bodies connected- be it your arms, your lips, your thighs… but you couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were trying to cut yourself off from him in order to save your friendship. You wouldn’t have sex with Minho again. You couldn’t.

You were shaken from your thoughts by Minho nudging your shoulder. You gave him a questioning look, wondering what he would have to say to you with your best friend sleeping right there. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, smirking as he did. 

“Wanna have sex?”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!

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[beneathstarryskies]

I'd just die to make you proud (Renji x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2,270

Summary: Renji wants to be someone you're proud of. Sometimes he goes a little overboard trying to prove it.

Warnings: smut, fluff, fights, hollow, poison, coma, fem!reader, penetration (p+v), unprotected sex

“Why do you do this, Renji? You’re going to get yourself hurt or killed or suspended from your squad!” You scold him as he sits on your bed. His long red hair spills down his shoulders and over his face. He winces as you dab ointment on the cuts on his cheek and over the bridge of his nose. He wants to confess right away, to tell you how he’d gotten into that stupid fight on the training ground defending you after he heard some creeps making lewd comments about you while you were busy training. He just pouts as you continue fussing over him and scolding him at the same time. 

“Come on, answer me, Renji,” you whine, now desperately seeking answers to why he’s acted this way. You knew how hard he worked to become a lieutenant, and yet he seems determined to sabotage himself like this. You can’t make sense of it, and he doesn’t seem to be willing to offer answers. 

“Just forget it, alright!” he says a little too loudly, making you step back from him with wide eyes. His face softens when he realizes he's startled you. He takes your hands and sighs softly. “Listen, I’m sorry. Just forget it. I’ll start being more careful.” 

“I hope being more careful means not starting more fights,” you huff before carefully placing a bandage on his cheek. 

“Hey, they started it!” 

“Well, whatever,” you roll your eyes. 

He sighs again and pushes your hands from his face. He stretches and pushes his hair back. For a moment, a tense silence falls over you until Renji stands up to grab his kosode off your bed. He slips it on and ties it loosely before putting his hair up in his usual ponytail again. 

“Just don’t worry about it, okay?” he says before kissing your forehead. “I have to go.”

“Ren, where are you going?” 

“Well, if I know Captain Kuchiki he’s already heard about this and is ready to tear me a new one, so,” he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Better go face the music.” 

Just as Renji suspected, Byakuya knew of Renji’s fight almost as soon as it happened. Word travels fast around the Seireitei, especially when respected lieutenants get into what amounts to a bar fight on the training grounds. Byakuya is at his desk, busy working on paperwork when Renji walks into the office. He bows before taking a seat across from Byakuya. 

“Sir, I can explain,” Renji begins, but is cut off with a simple wave of Byakuya’s hand. 

“There is nothing I can say that you don’t already know,” Byakuya says without looking up from his paperwork. “Lessons on decorum seem to be wasted on you so I won’t bother wasting my breath.” 

“I’m not suspended?” 

“No,” Byakuya shrugs. “Although, I can change my mind if you wish.” 

“No sir, thank you,” Renji stands and bows again before turning on his heels to leave. 

“Renji, one more thing,” Byakuya calls out. Renji cringes inside when he turns to face his captain again. “Next time you want to defend your beloved’s honor, at least make sure you knock the perpetrators out cold so I won’t be bothered in the middle of my afternoon tea.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll make sure,” Renji nods. “Uhm, I mean…I’ll also try to not get into fights!” 

“Good, you’re dismissed,” Byakuya says nonchalantly. 

Weeks pass after the incident, and Renji once more finds himself in the heat of battle. This time with a Hollow. The two of you were sent with a squad to get rid of it, and your teammates lie dead on the forest floor in pools of blood. You’re leaning against the base of a tree, clutching at a wound on your side where the Hollow has spit poisoned thorns at you. You’d been lucky to only be hit by one, but the poison was enough to drain your energy. Renji was left as the only Soul Reaper still standing in the fight. 

“Renji, let’s go! We have to retreat!” you cried with what little energy you had left, but Renji won’t listen. He can’t stand the idea of you seeing him turn tail and run away when he knows he can beat this Hollow. He’s managed to dodge most of the attacks. 

No, he’ll beat this damn thing or die trying. He wants more than anything to make you proud, and there’s no pride in running away. He’ll be victorious or he’ll die a hero so you can get away. 

“Just run!” he yells at you, not having time to think about the hypocrisy of his words. 

“Renji, please!” 

He ignores you, continuing to fight the hollow with his full strength. Finally, he manages to find a weakness in the Hollow. Right as he’s making the final blow, the Hollow attacks back. 

All you can see is a bright flash of light and a spray of poison. Then, finally, the smoke clears and you see Renji kneeling on the ground holding his shoulder where one of the thorns pierced his skin. Despite the poison working through his body, he stumbles to you and gathers you up in his arms. He has you cradled safely in his arms as he stumbles back towards the safety of the Seireitei. He kisses your forehead softly to soothe your quivering and fear. 

“I got you,” he whispers. 

You cling to him pitifully with your head buried against his chest. Both of you are gasping for breath as the poison works its way into your bloodstream. You don’t know what happens, but your vision goes blurry and then you pass out. 

When you come to again, you’re in the medical ward. You look around the medical ward and a few beds down you see Renji. It takes all of your strength to get out of your bed and stumble towards him. You kneel beside his bed and take his hand as he sleeps restlessly. His heart is pounding and sweat covers his forehead. 

“Renji,” you whisper. “Renji, please wake up.” 

Your eyes widen as he continues to sleep. You try to wake him up again, but he remains sleeping. Tears sting your eyes as you shake him, but he doesn’t stir at all. One of the young bedside attendants notices you’re out of bed and runs over to you. 

“Renji-san needs rest,” the attendant explains. “He is exhausted and badly injured!” 

“Will he wake up?” you ask with your eyes full of tears. 

“Yes! He will awaken, but he needs rest.” 

With those words, you’re ushered back to your own bed to recover. 

Weeks pass with Renji still locked in his sleep. Despite it all, you’re expected to go to missions and continue on as though it’s business as usual. You miss him so much. Every day you’re worried about him. You go to visit him every chance you get, hoping to see him awake and awaiting your visit.

One day, after a hard mission, you go straight home instead of stopping by the medical ward. You just want to clean up first and have a moment to get your thoughts together before heading back into the medical ward to see Renji. 

Just as you’re getting out of the shower, you hear a soft knock on the door. You pull on a robe before going to answer it. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you see Renji standing there. 

“Baby!” you gasp and throw your arms around him. He wraps his arms around your waist and spins you around happily. 

“I’m back, honey,” he says softly. “I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

���I was so worried Renji! I thought you were never going to wake up!” 

Tears roll down your cheeks as you cling to him, taking in everything from the warmth of his body against yours to the way he smells as he you bury your face against his chest. He rubs your back soothingly. He knows his mistake cost you a great deal of worry, and for that he’ll spend lifetimes trying to atone for. 

“You waited for me?” he asks softly as he sets you back down on the ground.

“Of course I did,” you whisper and kiss him softly. You then take his hand to pull him into your home. “I was so worried, but I would’ve waited forever.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly and kisses you sweetly again. “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

You kiss him eagerly, wanting to taste him and remind yourself that he’s really here with you now. For his part, Renji is overwhelmed by emotion. His hands cradle your cheeks as you kiss over and over, each kiss becoming more heated than the last. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get so excited after so long being in recovery, but he feels his cock stirring in his pants. Especially when you start letting out those sweet little moans between kisses. 

“Don’t scare me like that again, Renji,” you whine. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I wanted to make you proud of me,” he says as he pushes you towards the couch. 

“I’m always proud of you, baby,” you whisper between heated kisses. 

Then, he gently lays you back on the couch and spreads your thighs. His deft fingers loosen the knot holding your robe together and he opens it almost in reverence. His cheeks heat up as soon as he sees your body exposed to him. His hands are shaking as he reaches out to touch your breasts, his warm palms moving over them carefully. 

“I want to be someone you’re proud of…Someone you love…Someone…” 

“Renji, please,” you whisper and pull him down to kiss you again. Your hands eagerly move to undress him, shredding each piece of clothing until your bare bodies are pressed against one another. 

“I love you,” he whispers. He shudders as those words leave him for the first time since your relationship has started. He feels like an idiot for taking so long to confess it to you, but it’s out there now. He had to say it before the feeling ate him up inside. 

“I love you too,” you say softly. 

He leans into you, surrounding you with his warmth and presence in a way you’ve craved for so long. He kisses a sloppy trail along your neck and collar bone as one hand sneaks between your bodies. You gasp as his fingers rub your folds in tentative exploration. It’s been so long since he felt your warmth in any way, and now it’s all he can think about. He craves it so badly he can barely think straight. His kisses begin going lower, and when he reaches your stomach you realize what he’s doing. He wants to taste you now, but you don’t know if you can wait that long. You cup his cheeks and pull him back to you. 

“Renji, I can’t wait,” you whine. “I need you now.” 

“Now?” he asks in surprise. “I-I thought…You needed more.” 

“No I need you,” you whimper and raise your hips to grind against his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans and kisses you sloppily. “Alright, but I’m gonna go slow.” 

He knows usually you need more preparation than this, but he can’t deny you when you’re pleading for him like this. He gives his cock a few firm strokes before guiding it to your entrance. True to his word he pushes into your warm walls slowly, savoring the feeling of your body engulfing his. It’s a connection he’s craved more often than not it seems. Even in his coma, he sometimes dreamt of it. Of being buried to the hilt inside of you and hearing the very same moans you’re letting escape now as he rocks his hips at a gentle pace. 

“Are you proud of me, baby? Are you proud to be mine?” he asks desperately.

“I’m proud of you, Ren,” you moan as you lock your legs around his waist. “I’m always proud of you!” 

He grunts softly and already he’s struggling to hold on. His strong arms wrap around your body, holding you flush against him as he quickens his pace. You cry out at the change in tempo. The passion and pleasure growing inside of you is almost too much to handle. 

“Renji, fuck, it feels so good,” you cry out. 

“I know, baby. I feel it too,” he grunts. 

He reaches between the two of you so he can rub your clit in rapid circles. He needs to feel you cum before he can even imagine letting go of himself. The couch squeaks underneath you as he pounds into your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck! Renji!” you cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, and with the clenching of your walls he’s done for. He throws his head back and curses fall from his lips as shots of thick seed paint your walls. 

The air seems to grow lighter as you both come down from your orgasms. His cheeks are flushed and he flashes you a silly grin before resting his head against your chest. You run your fingers through his hair as you hold him close. 

“I won’t make you wait for me again,” he whispers against your skin. 

“You better not,” you chuckle. “But, baby. I’m so proud of you. You don’t have to be an idiot to prove it.”

His eyes widen as he looks up at you, “So now I’m an idiot?” 

You sigh and kiss him, “That’s not what I meant!” 

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

How Tim Drake stole the show and lost millions for a good cause....... aka getting laid

Part 2

Kon didn't really expect this, to feel so powerful he's fucking Superboy after all but being with Tim watching the envy and just the pure power his boyfriend walks with it's hot and addictive.

The entire gala is practically watching. Tim's arm which is decorated by a Rolex that they picked up today which cost more than Kon has ever seen. It feels good like he deserves it and for now he feels like kryptonite couldn't even touch him.

"How you feeling baby, you look a little flustered." Tim's whispers in his ear voice dripping with sex.

"I'm good but I have to ask is this like you, I don't know how to explain but is this a show?" He feels a little ashamed asking like he is questioning how much Tim loves him but this doesn't seem like Rob.

"Kon, everytime I see you it takes every bit of training I have from bending you over. Right now I want to show all of Gotham who you belong to." He looks straight into his eyes licking his lips.

"I was a Drake before a Wayne this will always be where I belong I want you to know every bit of me. I don't know the cost of a bannana but I know that the woman standing across from us is wearing ten thousand dollar heels that are out of season. This is me and I'm proud of who I am, who you are." He can't help the smile that slips onto his face.

"I didn't mean anything by that I just needed to know this feels like a dream I feel like a queen and I just I love you sunshine I just needed to know." He shoots forward kissing Tim falling into his arms were he belongs.

It's feels like it last forever and not enough when Tim pulls away.

"Now as much as this is my gala and I would love to pull you into a closet and have my way with you My Air we need to go greet Bruce and my siblings so let's go."

Tim directs him over to where the entire batfamily stands looking like gods who are being disturbed by the lesser he especially sees Batman looking him up and down with what seems like disgust.

He wants to hide but he remembers he's on Tim's arm and nothing can happen to him when he's with Tim.

"It's amazing gala don't you think Bruce I decided to come a bit later than expected I was distracted had to pick a couple things up." Tim's voice drips with something he can't name.

He sees Jason and Damian also looking at him something in their eyes that makes Kon want to cry beg for his place as if they are kings and he's just the pathetic peasant asking for scraps. It sends a rush of anger and he does something that he hopes doesn't cause Sunshine to kill him.

"Daddy, You think we could go grab something I'm starving, we barley ate this morning you wouldn't let me out of bed." Giggling as he kisses the side of Tim's neck.

He looks straight at Bruce his face frozen the other bats not much better but Rob catches his attention eyes burning his voice comes out commanding.

"Of course Bruce I have more important matters to attend to good night see you at home." The arm that he somehow forgot for a moment wraps tightly around him leading over to the food and far away from judgemently Bats who seem to hate him.

-

Bruce thinks he should have just never gotten up today not only is his child causing him a migraine. He just heard said sons boyfriend call him a word that he can never hear again. Nevermind the recount of a sex act that he wishes he could bleach from his brain. Luckily his second oldest is always willing to distract him in his own twisted way.

"Am I the only one who feels like they are missing something, I know I tend to piss of Baby Bird but he seemed more high strung than usual." Jason mutters eyes calculating.

Dick doesn't hesitant to also insert himself of course giggling like a school girl.

"Oh you sweet summer children you at a Gala with Tim Drake and I love my baby brother but he's much like his name sake. He has a fair maiden and a love of precious gems this is Tim." Tone changing to an almost growl.

"You all looked at Kon like he wasn't worth anything and to Tim that's the one thing he loves more than anything you pissed off the dragon now I will be going to make my amends for not being more welcoming have fun." He throws over his shoulder making a beeline to Tim.

Bruce really wants a god damn drink.

[felikatze]

FE brainrot continues. Based on base Keaton's battle artwork in FEH, which made me realize what a babygirl pose that truly is. Okuma Yugo drew both base Keaton and Halloween Dogboy Grima, which automatically makes him my hero forever.

Anyway. Wolfskin Isabeau.

This is where I hit you with my FE crossover headcanons.

The two wolfskin characters that exist are, to put it mildly, fucking morons. Both Keaton and his daughter Velouria (the only playable Wolfskin) are well and truly Dogs in personality. They like smelling things and collecting cool looking rocks and bones.

They are both named after fabrics.

I think, beastfolk have it better in a place like Vaugarde. Their ability to shift shapes at will is seen as a boon from the Change God themself. They're admired, nearly holy.

And yet. And yet.

Why do they change shape into... this? Into animals? Are they humans who change into animals, or animals who change into humans? Their abilities are praised in theory, but in practice, anybody's bound to freak out when someone turns into a huge wolf creature in front of them.

There's no real stigma against being beastfolk, but, well, don't show it, will you?

I think, Isabeau keeps his nails short, even though they always grow far too quickly. He smiles with a closed mouth to hide his teeth. His ears are weighed down by earrings, so they wiggle less. There's nothing he can really do about the tail, but people at least find that charming.

He plays into the stereotypes on purpose. Acts like a dog for jokes, to make others laugh. Because a dumb wolfskin is expected. Because a dumb wolfskin is less threatening. Someone with intelligence and cunning, who can also tear you to shreds with their bare hands?

....People don't like that very much.

But Isabeau didn't like being shy and demure, didn't like dancing around what he is. What he's always been. When he Changed, he wanted to be bolder, wanted to be someone who others look up to, confide in - not just something like a cute pet.

It's about confidence, and gender, and all of that, yes. It is also about being honest to the monster inside of you. As the journey progresses, he lets it trickle out, bit by bit. Using claws instead of closed fists. Hitting harder, faster, using his senses to warn others of danger.

Here, this is useful. Once the journey ends, and it stops being useful... Well, he better reign it in, right? But it's exhilirating to be honest to his own capabilities. He doesn't know if he can go back. He doesn't know if he wants to.

Also thinks about. Wolfskin Isabeau within the context of Manakete Siffrin.

Siffrin, who, at first, doesn't even realize he's not human either.

For the first time, there's someone who just... isn't fazed by beastkin at all. Sure, Odile wasn't scared, but she'd never met a wolfskin before and Isabeau had still been a curiosity, comparing to the kitsune Odile knew. Yet Siffrin didn't even seem to know what a beastkin is.

Just utterly at ease, with whatever Isabeau shows them. Of course he'd fall in love.

Of course he'd accept every single monstrous part of Siffrin, too. Whenever Siffrin is just a little too quick, a little too strong, when their long ears flick or his eyes reflect the light oddly - when Isabeau sees that Siffrin could be just like him - yeah, of course he'd fall even harder.

I have more thoughts on how Siffrin would feel on their end (how they feel feral compared to Isabeau, who controls himself with perfect precision, how they feel rabid after being restrained for so long), but this is honestly long enough.

Hi to everyone who clicked that readmore, I hope the length of this jumpscared you. Ask me about my isat/fe AUs. Any of them. Please.

[jeon-ify]

that night : j. yunho - pt 2

a/n: HELLO!! thank you all for the love you’ve shown me in the last fic— actually all the love you’ve shown me since i started my account!! part 1 was crazy. what do we think? will reader forgive yunho???? idk girlll its crazy out here :3 on a serious note yunho does not look like the type to ever do things like this. it was originally supposed to be a san fic but san is too possessive and clingy so i decided to make yunho seem like he has a different side to him.

based on ‘you broke me first’ by tate mcrae

warnings: yunho is a crybaby, reader gets kinda mean, wooyoung gets horny, flirting between y/n and mingi, yunho cries a lot, reader cries a lot, mentions of violence, mingi appears, swearing

this ones a bit of a shorter chapter.

part 1 here.

—————————————————————————————

to: woo 🧍🏻‍♀️

y/n: im not opening the door

y/n: i dont wanna see his face

y/n: this is so UGHSKEJD

*seen*

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: its not that serious just see what he wants

then think it over l8r

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: show me the fit

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: u better dress accordingly

*seen*

y/n: FUCK fuck the doorbell just rang

y/n: brb

——————————————

*ding ding*

(***)***-****: i’m outside

(***)***-****: hope i’m at the right place

your heart drops to your ass. you walk down the hallway and to the bathroom, looking over the way your tinted pink balm looks on your lips, triple checking the placement of your perfume, and the way your hair sits on the nape of your back. as you peek through the door, your throat falls dry.

his pretty black hair— the way it’s parted on his forehead, the way his sideburns lay on his cheekbones so delicately. his cheekbones you missed so much, it’s all hitting you so hard that he’s here— but not in the way you wanted him to be. the black crewneck he’s wearing underneath his silver chain hugs his chest so comfortably, almost making your heart hurt from how you can’t lean on his chest the way you used to.

your feet finally move themselves to walk over to the door once again— this time, to open it for the man on the other side. his breath nearly stopping from how scared he is to face you. how guilty he is that he’s doing all this because he fucked up your 6 year relationship.

he has nothing in his hands but his heart and an apology to hand over to yours— the hands that carried him when he couldn’t carry himself— the hands that you used as a weapon to fight for your relationship— the hands yunho loved to hold.

he does nothing but look. he watches the way your breathing changes. he watches the gloss in your eyes start to increase; but you’ve held back your tears tonight (hopefully).

“h-hi, y/n.” is all he manages to say. he’s taken aback from the way you look right now. the victim eyes, the sadness that he’d poured onto you years ago that he didn’t get to clean up.

“you can come in, i don’t bite.” you respond. you move to hold the door open as he takes off his shoes and hangs his car keys on the hook on the wall. you close the door behind the both of you, as yunho looks around, admiring the way you decorated your apartment. he looks like a lost puppy, waiting for you to say something.

he notices that you’ve moved on. how you have your life together. it hurts him knowing that you did this without him, and that you never needed him to love yourself, carry yourself the way you’ve always wanted. he wanted to be a part of the way you are today.

he sits down on the fluffy white couch, fiddling and picking at his nails, trying to find the words to initiate the conversation. you sit across from him, watching the way his face shifts and his mouth opens to say something, but taking back the thought.

it’s been 10 minutes. not a word was exchanged.

“yunho, why are you here? you’ve said all you needed to say over the phone.” you started. you really don’t know why he’s here, not saying a word at all. he looks up at you, having found the response to your question.

“i-i don’t know. us talking over the phone isn’t as important. but what i would like to start off with is by apologizing to you. y/n, i know that there really is nothing that would change your mind, or anything that would— you know— make you forgive me. i want to know how you’re doing in life, how every thing is treating you. how’s your lash thing going? i remember you talking about it before.”

he slurs on his words, nervousness ravishing his entire body. you notice the way his cheeks flush into a coral toned shyness, as well as the way his crewneck is slightly bouncing on his left side. his heart is beating out of his chest.

“yunho, please. i really don’t mean to disrespect you right now or devalue what you’re trying to say, but this right here isn’t gonna fix anything. if you’re trying to make things right and have me back as what you did before, it’s not working. so please, if this right here is an act, or if you’re just trying to win me back by this whole ‘sorry i fucked up take me back’ kinda thing, i’m not having it.” you already have too big of a headache for games, yunho not noticing how tired and afraid you look to face him again— to face the problem again. he nods, taking in a deep sigh of regret, knowing that he shouldn’t have shown up tonight.

you run your fingers through your hair, attempting to relieve the tension in your frontal area. yunho keeps his head down as you talk, his knuckles turning pink as he scratches and peels at the skin shielding the bone. you walk to the kitchen while yunho watches you try to get away from the conversation.

“did you want some water, or coffee or wine? any preferences? just trying to break some of the tension here is all.” you say, pouring yourself a glass of water. you’re dehydrated, your throat dry since you’ve checked yunho’s texts that night.

“i’m okay. thank you for offering. i appreciate you.”

i appreciate you.

“uh- y-yeah, you’re welcome.” you stutter, the last three words catching you off guard. you still pour him a mug of coffee, with 2 creams and no sugar, the way he used to drink it every morning with you.

his eyes are damp, glossy and emotional. you can’t tell if he’s putting on an act, or whether or not he’s actually sorry. he looks down, you hear him sniffling, trying to control his breaths. you sit down, your hand has a mind of its own, catching yourself before almost going to rub at the nape of his shoulders.

“yunho, why are you crying?” concern masks the weary and vulnerable expression displayed on your face, while yunho finally breaks.

he always hated when you asked him that. he’d never stop crying the minute you’d ask how he was or what was wrong.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i’m really sorry. i shouldn’t have come here.” he sobs. he stands up as you follow, confused as to why he’s the one hurt.

“yu, don’t leave yet. we’re not done talking.” his eyes lit up like a puppy with treats. he stops in his tracks, turning to look at the way your eyes turn soft, still wanting to talk to him. he sets his keys back down, leaving his car to run, not having a care at all.

“what made you do it?” is all you say after 6 minutes of him adjusting to the situation you’re both in.

“i’m not gonna make up a shitty excuse like oh i was drunk, but i wasn’t. i don’t understand what was going through my mind when they stopped by. they both came by and asked for you and i said you weren’t home. they asked if they could wait here and it was around the time you were almost off work.

they sat down on their phones and i was sitting in our— my room, and they called me over to sit with them. i didn’t think any of it but they kept talking and asking why you weren’t home. i told them you were just getting off work and that they should call you, but sara got up and sat right by me and started talking shit like ‘she can’t handle someone like you’ or that i deserve better.” he talks slowly, taking his time explaining, making sure nothing goes unnoticed. he’s trying to recall the moment to the best or his ability.

“did you believe any of it? did you try to tell them that you didn’t wanna do anything with them? or that maybe i could be home any second? did any of that occur to you?” you argue. right now, he’s explaining and not answering what you want him to.

“i started to, since we literally hadn’t had sex in like 4 months. you were caught up with work and i started to feel like you moved on. it’s not your fault, it never was.

but they started feeling up on me and laughing with each other about how stupid you were to think you could have someone like me— which already pissed me off. they just got super touchy and i guess i started letting go of myself and do things with them. one thing lead to another and i you got home. i wish you’d gotten home sooner that night.”

his eyes water, the deep sigh he elicits ends the conversation at that. it doesn’t feel like he’s been gone for somewhat years, it hurts like it just happened yesterday. a million thoughts at once cloud your brain until you don’t catch that his head is in his hands, tears pooling between his feet on the freshly mopped ground.

you can’t help but cry with him— an experience you both needed for a while. you feel yunho stand up from the spot next to you, kneeling before you and holding your hands in his large ones. he cries and cries for minutes on end, his eyes puffy and red. his nose crimson red and shiny. you hold his face to meet your eyes, the mutual sadness flooding the room around you.

“i’m so, so fucking sorry, baby. i’m so sorry. i never deserved you. i never did.” his eyes meet yours as tears fall down his red flushed cheekbones. he moves the both of your hands to bring them to wipe the tears on your dolled skin.

“my baby, my star, my heart, i would kill for you, i would do anything you tell me. i don’t know how to make you feel how much i regret doing this to you. you’re doing so good, you’re so independent and you don’t need me— and that fucking kills me. i was supposed to be with you. i was supposed to be by you the entire time. i fucked that up for th-the both of us.” he cries. his heart feels drained of everything, his chest empty and his eyes burning from the tears he’s cried.

“i don’t know, yunho, i need time to process all of this. i know you’re sorry, but i just don’t know what to do. what if i forgive you and you make the same mistake?”

you feel like the world stops when you watch yunho cry. it’s the worst feeling seeing him cry, because he’s just so pretty. his crewneck darkens in color from the tears he’s wiped.

“y/n. don’t feel like you need to forgive me. i want you to do it out of your own heart, i want you to readjust to me the way you did when we first met, hm? take all the time you need.” he stands up, planting a kiss on your forehead. your heart sinks as he walks out the door. your head falls into your hands, sobbing even harder than what you held in minutes ago. you don’t know what to do from this point on, leaving the situation up to the universe, or if you should start by being friends with him, then see if it would move up from there.

your phone dings twice, interrupting your crying session. you thought yunho sent you a text already, but you notice that this number isn’t familiar whatsoever. you click on the notification displayed on your lockscreen:

Today at 8:20PM

(***)***-****: hey its mingi

(***)***-****: wyd

*seen*

—————————————————————————————

HI!!! THIS CHAPTER IS SO SAD ☹️ what do we think?? should reader forgive yunho? should reader tell yunho mingi texted???? idkkkkkkkkkkk 🤞🤞

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