#it was the first ever anime i kept up with i have so many feelings for it

[kirakirabug]

I miss Wonder Egg Priority.

[ropes3amthoughts]

What you staring at 💀 what he making that pretty ass face for

Bro’s raising his hand to speak 💀 bro thinks he in school 💀 (which he shouldn’t even think bc his ass was homeschooled) dork ass I’ll kiss him

Bro likes tomatoes as his favorite food 💀 that ain’t even a meal bruh that’s an ingredient 💀 ingredient lover 💀 malnourished ass 💀 fake food fan 💀 eat some proper meals bruh 💀 bro’s gonna eat tomatoes straight up like an apple and be like “yummy” 💀 I’d take him out to dinner

Bro’s special interests are people and politics 💀silly ass he’s so excited and cute 💀 what’s he being cute for 💀 cute ass 💀 what’s he got a gorgeous smile for 💀 bro’s having fun and enjoying himself how lovely I hope he has many good days and learns to love himself like with all that idolizing he does of other people he really doesn’t thhnkot himself and maybe he jus like hates himself yo what if that has to do with him lke thjnkjnh he’s like a monster in that one part like he hates monsters and he sees himself like that I mean I guess that’s not really profound idk what I’m sayin I’m kinda tired and k think mh phone is too it’s getting warm

He’s such a mess lmao like bro just drank some unknown quantity of glasses of alcohol and took his clothes off (unclear which one he did first) and passed out in his bed seemingly backwards what are you doing silly ass 💀 drinking to help with his insomnia smh silly Kabru you’re gonna die young that is not good for you 💀 unhealthy ass 💀 gorgeous ass man 💀 I want to study him under a microscope except I’m really bad at using microscopes in middle school they made me do this before you go into the lab test and I passed it so good but when I got to the lab and started using the microscope i could not see shit like I kept turning them knobs n stuff did not work lnao all blurry so if I was like “bro you an interesting critter I’m gonna study you under a microscope” what would happen is I would just go “hmmm hm hmmmmm” all inquisitively and just look at blurry ness for a few seconds then be like “I can’t see shit lol that was a busy wanna make out@ then I would kiss him on his face and I would play with his pretty hair

This could b me. I know how to touch boobs and one time when I was like 10 I watched a YouTube video on how to transform into a werewolf and I genuinely believe it was real and I started walking around my house on alll fours and barking and trying to feel my connection to the mooon and when my dad came home he got really mad ya me and he started yelling at me also I have a sister this could literally be me like that could be me I could be feeling Kabru bobs more like Kabroobies lmao I would lick him like a popsicle like his skin like a cat and I would draw little animals on his arms in different colored marker and all the animals say I love you hearttttt and they are all happy animals and I would tell him is ok if he wants to wash them off because they’re stupid little marker animals and it’s ok if he doesn’t like them

Fun fact I first saw this picture of Kabru like ten minutes before I went to go golfing with m dad and my grandpa and our neighbor Bill or something and so I had no time to process it and so every time during golfing which was like three hours or so btw I would keep thinking of him like this and also this was before k realized I thought he was handsome I was like he’s a cool character. But he’s not like hot lol but then I see this picture minutes before golfing and my heart gets pounding and I feel like I’m choking and suddenly it dawns on me he’s the most beustfil man I’ve ever seen in mh life meow but then I immediately had to go golfing and like ever time I blinked I would see his gorgeous face and I was like “wow man I’m hay” but I couldn’t do anything about it or like tell anybody because I was busy absolutely fucking up my short game lmal Nd itz kujs ahdn fbe chata teds are locked jn a room tkvwtehr kr somwrbinf ow my fingwr hhrt they just sgafted crampimg but anhways tehy realize they lkkr each other n stff yeah j tealkzed i liked him when i was out golfing as soon i vake baxk from glfijg j tbnk j went kn a cfazu tsnt to mh flose frkends and stuff yeab anhways he looks vrewg gorgeous meow melw man

He’s sooooo cute bruh that tuff of hair that sticks out from behin this ear makes me crazy what the fucj why do you look like that I love you 😭 it’s 1am rn and I love him I can’t sleep I’m comipoling a handful of my little pictures of him to tumblr because he’s making me crazy oh Man U love him him I want to hold his face in mh hands I want uh kiss him I want uhhhh man he is gorgeous and I like his personality he s like assionage he really into his goals he’s like a do whatever it takes guy but like he has limits and stuff he’s not like crazy nuts but he’s driven and accomplished and he’s a cute little charmer he so handsome wow!! And he’s so smart and he’s a quick thinker very smart good at improv and he’s a good leader and he cares about people what a cool guy and I love his nice smile awwwwwwwww man he’s hot meowza k can never be normal about him I don’t feelnormal so about him ever man I’m so sleepy bruh I don’t even remember a single word I just toed snit if I said”I alone Kabru “ somewhere than k agree with myself because yeah I love him and that’s yeah awesome guy him great splendid incredible enamoring effiseneg 100 stars out of 2 or just 50 because that’s fractions wait I can do 100 stars out if 1 stars and get 100 stars or I could just move the decimal pace and I could get even more stars yeah babgygirkl are you the space because stars are you the dirt b cause I would give you flowers z are you mini cooking videos that go “yummy!” And have old Macdonald playing the background because I can’t take my eyes off you are you beautiful because yes you are I am going to bed goodnight to Kabru and the orhwr peippe too i guess njy mksyly Kabru i hope everhd rike he sleleehe sleep well full 9 hoirs well resyed Miss Ryoko Kui please Kabru sleepinh good plewse also comic where he has good day please I wish the best for him

[sleepysnk]

Squirting headcanons with the blue lock boys? Pretty please?

a/n: hi nonnie! thank you for sending this in. i’m so sorry it took me this long to finally get to this, but i appreciate you sending this! i hope you enjoy <3.

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro

warnings: established relationships, nsfw, squirting, fingering (kunigami), oral sex f!receiving (bachira), use of pet names (baby, princess), overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

SQUIRTING HEADCANONS.

isagi yoichi:

you and isagi had been having sex for quite a while. it was after your anniversary date, so you decided to indulge in some of your personal fun to end the evening.

isagi’s thrusts were quite erratic. he had this brutal assault against your cunt and he was making your vision blurry from simply just rutting his hips into you. he was determined to give you the absolute best treatment that night, and he was doing just that. he had your legs over his shoulders with his dick filling your pussy. your orgasm was making itself known in your belly, but something felt different in your gut this time. it wasn’t something familiar to you and part of you worried that something was going to happen.

you practically were warning isagi about what was happening, but he wasn’t halting. he kept going and going. he wanted to make you cum so bad and his own selfish desire was taking over him. what he wasn’t expecting was after his final thrust into you was this gush of fluid coming from your pussy. it covered the sheets and his cock, shocking both him and you. this was the first time you had ever squirted on him and you were somewhat embarrassed at first, but isagi thought it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen. his dick got hard all over again when he watched what happened before him.

“fuck.. don’t even be embarrassed, baby, i wanna see you do that again..”

bachira meguru:

you and bachira had been having sex for so long, you forgot how many orgasms you had the entire night. he had just returned home from a very long soccer match and all he wanted was to bathe in your embrace, but one thing led to another, and he pounced on you like a wild animal.

bachira had you in all kinds of positions. he practically almost folded you in half when he was making you cum for the third time. he was making you go crazy. your pussy was so tired and sore and there was a huge mess on his cock, but he didn’t show any sign of stopping. he could feel another climax coming from you since your cunt was practically closing in on him again, so he decided last minute to use something else on you. his pretty mouth that you swore hands down was from a god itself.

bachira pulled out of your dripping hole, leaning down and spreading your thighs apart to get a great taste. he lapped up your juices and latched his mouth into your sensitive folds. his tongue was so warm and he kept licking at your bud, making you shove your hands into his hair. you couldn’t stop the cries that slipped from your lips every time he went at it, and you were so fucking close to reaching that delicious high. there was something foreign about it, though. you somewhat blamed it on the overstimulation, but it was hurdling towards you so quickly you barely had time to react when you squirted all over his mouth and his face. your jaw was practically on the floor and bachira seemed just as surprised, but he couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his face. he always wanted to make you squirt.

“hehe.. took me some time, but i finally got you to do it, baby.”

kunigami rensuke:

kunigami is a big guy, so you already know that those fingers are also pretty big. he’s fingered you many times before and he’s made you feel full that way, even without his cock.

the two of you were watching a movie. you were lying beside your boyfriend and his hands started to explore you in a teasing manner. you knew him very well, so you already knew what he wanted from you. his fingers began to play with your clit, swirling it around to the point where you were soaked. he sunk two of his digits into your dripping hole, making any mention of the movie in front of you disappear the moment he started pumping into you. his fingers were so thick and nice you couldn’t hold back and started crying his name like it was a prayer. he was so good at it. it took your breath away every time he curled upwards to find that spot inside of you.

he had your thighs wide open, leaning in to kiss you every so often while he fingered you. he was reaching all of those nice areas inside of you and you knew you were getting close. your body language explained it all and kunigami was so damn excited to see how hard you were going to cum for him. you were scratching at his wrist, whining like a bitch in heat for him. then, after practically dirty talking you the entire time, you reached your high. he was surprised to see that you started squirting all over his wrist, leaving it all over the sheets. you were at a loss for words, but you were too fucked out to care.

“why don’t we do that again, baby? how about on my cock this time.. yeah?”

nagi seishiro:

after returning home from a long day, nagi wanted nothing more than to be by your side, but when he smelled how great your perfume was he had gotten harder than a rock. he missed you so much.

nagi lost count of how many times he had made you cum. you and him were both sweating and your bodies were practically sticky from it. he could care less, though. all he cared about was making you feel good, and that’s exactly what he was doing. you were a mess underneath him with his cock buried inside your sweet pussy. nagi only yearned to make you cum even more, and with your cunt slowly closing around him, he knew he was going to make that possible.

you were so overstimulated. your body was screaming for some type of relief but it was just too good to stop. your thighs were trembling and you couldn’t stop blabbing for more from your boyfriend. nagi thought it was so cute to see you in such a manner. he only kept up that rough pace he had and it excited him that you were once again reaching another orgasm. he was whispering dirty things in your ear, toying with your puffy clit to only make it more exciting for you. nagi kept going until he felt a huge gush of something on his abdomen and his groin. he saw you shaking while you squirted all over the bed. he honestly couldn’t believe his eyes that it had just happened, but he wanted to see you do it over and over again. it was such a turn on for him.

“oh? so that’s what you can do? heh, let’s try it again, princess..”

[therogueduchess]

Dear Penthouse I never thought it would happen to me— No

No shit, there I was. My very first ever Pride, in Providence Rhode Island. It was overwhelm in all the best ways. Sunny, music I could feel in my belly, people people people people people

Eventually, after wandering the stalls, seeing so many things, smelling so many smells, reveling in so many of our people all in one place, I got some pricey but really delicious chicken tenders and sat with my companion by the river. We talked about all sorts of things, and I took great joy in unfettered compliments to folks who walked by. Ears, wings, dresses, tiaras, skulls, glitter, tattoos—

And then someone walked by with, roughly, this shirt

I have only ever seen this referenced on tumblr. And the person was wearing sneakers with colorful ties, and as they came level in front of me, I took a chance.

“Hey!” I called out, “I like your shoelaces!”

It took a moment before the person looked over at me from their phone, said thanks, and kept walking. My companion was chuckling, and I figured, ah well, I tried—

The person sitting on the low wall on the other side of the walkway was staring at me with the most singular expression. I pointed a finger, delighted. “YOU. YOU KNOW!”

That person was giggling now, and the person beside them turned to make a shame gesture with their fingers.

“Oh no,” I crowed, “you know too, which means you can’t shame me!”

Then we were all laughing. Like, tilted my head back, mouth wide open like the animated guy from the reach toothbrush flip top head commercial (if you understand that reference right away we are brain-buddies now) and laughed so hard my belly aches

And then the first person, the shirt and shoelaces person, was in front of me again, confessing. “I had a visceral reaction!” they said, they’d frozen. “…I stole them from the President.”

I l threw up both hands, fists triumphant. “YEEESSSSSS!!!!!”

After all - it is law.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [15]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 14 | Fic Masterlist | Part 16

"I still don't understand why you had to creep around instead of just approaching her and introducing yourself properly," Jongho remarked, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung clicked his tongue in frustration, "Oh, come on! Can you blame me? She's so beautiful, I got nervous, alright?! I've never had to talk to her before, and I just... I panicked!"

The assistant squinted at his friend, "You do realise if the general catches wind of any of that, you'll be out of a job. Don't tell me you have a crush on our mistress..."

"And you don't?!" The private investigator squeaked, eyes widening in disbelief as Jongho shook his head, unamused, "That's inappropriate. Don't you ever suggest such a thing again."

Wooyoung kept his mouth shut, realising that his friend would be the last person interested in hearing him gush about how pretty he found you. He was fully aware that you were his employer's wife and therefore off-limits. Still, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the innocent fantasy of being a secret admirer.

Besides, he still valued his life, and it wasn't as if he was actually in love with you or anything. Deep down, humans are all visual animals, and he found his tiny crush on you completely justifiable.

Turning serious, Jongho inquired, "So, what did the mistress need help with? She's been secluded in the study ever since Prince Yeosang's departure and hadn't spoken to any of us until you showed up. Something must have happened."

With a smug nod, Wooyoung responded, "Ah, it seems I already know more than you. How does that feel, senior assistant Choi?" His grin disappeared when the younger man did not react as expected, only staring him down intimidatingly, as if daring him to continue with his playful shenanigans, "Ugh, fine, sheesh. The fourth prince invited her to his birthday banquet happening next week. She's really anxious since it's her first royal event and without General Park. She wants guidance on dealing with the royals."

Head shooting up at the revelation, the assistant knitted his brows together in concern, "The fourth prince... invited her to his birthday banquet? Did he say why?"

The private investigator shrugged, a hint of nonchalance in his tone, "He mentioned that since General Park is away, he hoped Lady Park could represent him this year."

A troubled expression clouded Jongho's features as he processed the information, his mind racing with possible implications. The idea of His Highness extending such an invitation seemed out of the ordinary, sparking unease within him.

Noticing the younger man's troubled demeanour, Wooyoung nudged him on the shoulder, concern evident in his voice, "Why do you look so bothered, man? What's on your mind?"

Jongho's stomach churned as he mulled over his thoughts, his voice tinged with apprehension as he responded, "I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been any of the other princes. But Prince Yeosang? He hasn't hosted a single birthday banquet in years. And besides, his connection with the general is minimal at best. So... what do you think he wants with our mistress?"

That revelation made the private investigator sit up straight, suddenly grasping the complexity of the situation. If what his friend said held true, it meant the fourth prince was plotting something. A surge of protectiveness for you washed over him, wanting to ensure your safety and not let his role model down.

Turning to the assistant, he asked, "Damn, I don't like the sound of that. So what's our move? Should we warn her?"

Jongho shook his head adamantly, "Absolutely not. She'd panic, and that's the last thing we need. I'll fetch the dressmaker; he's one of the general's closest friends, and along with Physician Jung's help, we'll try to figure this out."

"Oh, one more thing!" Wooyoung interjected, grabbing the younger man's attention, "Lady Park did mention that it would be great if she could somehow get in touch with Royal Secretary Choi. It seems she believes he's the only one who can offer helpful advice for navigating the royal event."

Pondering this information quietly, the assistant nodded, "Fortunately, I've corresponded with him on behalf of the general several times. I should be able to reach him easily."

Jongho furrowed his brows, noticing the unsettled expression on the investigator's face, "What's bothering you now?"

Wooyoung sighed, his expression clouded with uncertainty, "The lady also expressed her doubts about whether the royal secretary would even consider helping her. She's unsure if someone as busy as him would take the time to assist her."

Shaking his head, the assistant offered reassurance, "Don't worry. Royal Secretary Choi is genuinely one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He shares a friendship with the general and will certainly lend a hand to our mistress if she needs it."

That would soon be clear to them all when San arrived to grace everyone in the general's estate with his presence in just a few days, leaving Hongjoong, Yunho, and Wooyoung in awe as they watched the handsome man with an exceptionally fit physique—perhaps a little too fit to be a mere secretary—walk past the three of them, who were sitting in the living hall, with a respectful nod and courteous smile.

Jongho exchanged knowing glances with them as he ushered the royal secretary into the estate and towards the study, where you awaited his guidance with your studies.

"Am I the only one who thinks that guy seems more suited for the battlefield than the royal office?" Wooyoung quipped, prompting a reluctant nod from Hongjoong. For some inexplicable reason, he found the private investigator mildly annoying, almost like a younger brother, "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right about that. He does give off that vibe."

Yunho, known for his wisdom and maturity, offered a shrug in response, "We shouldn't judge someone solely by their appearance. Perhaps the royal secretary excels in matters of intelligence rather than physical strength."

Rolling his eyes, the dressmaker fired back, "Obviously, we're just joking. Lighten up a little, Yunho, or you'll never find a wife with that boring ass attitude."

The physician pursed his lips at the jab, while Wooyoung watched with amusement as the banter between the two friends unfolded, "Says you? You're older and still single. Perhaps the problem lies closer to home."

Hongjoong scoffed in disbelief and placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse you, I'll have you know there are plenty of women vying for my attention every day. It's not my fault I have standards."

"I could say the same." Yunho retorted.

Before the banter could escalate, Jongho intervened with a heavy sigh, "I leave for a minute, and you're already arguing. How is it that all of you are older than me?"

"I agree, assistant Choi. Their behaviour was rather immature," The investigator remarked, feigning innocence when the doctor raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who instigated the whole thing."

Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to defend himself, the assistant rubbed his temple wearily, "Oh my god, enough. Let's not forget why we're here today—to figure out the intentions of Prince Yeosang regarding our mistress."

"Is that the purpose of this gathering?" Eunsook queried as she appeared by the entrance of the living hall.

The four nodded in confirmation, and the head maid sighed before joining them, "If that's the case, I believe I may be of help. I was with the mistress in the palace on the day the master discovered he had to depart for war. Something happened with the prince while we awaited the general's return from his emergency meeting."

As she recounted the incident at the cherry blossom garden, a dawning realisation settled over all of them. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: why Yeosang, known for despising his own birthday due to its reminders of his painful existence, was now planning a celebration and extending an invitation to Lady Park, of all people. It was clear to the group that the prince had set his sights on the general's wife, and this elaborate scheme was likely his attempt to lure you away from Seonghwa.

"I understand we're all concerned about what His Highness might attempt to win over our mistress, but I believe we should have a little faith in her. Her devotion to General Park is undeniable. I don't think she would easily forsake him after all he's done for her." The physician suggested, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

As the others visibly relaxed with the reminder, the dressmaker appeared to be the only one still troubled, "Yeah, about that..." The dread in the room heightened at Hongjoong's uneasy expression.

"What is it?" Jongho inquired cautiously.

With a frustrated expression, the eldest man among them ran a hand through his hair before recounting the recent encounter with Jinjoo, your stepsister, and the doubts you were starting to entertain about your husband, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

The elderly woman's stomach sank at the revelation, but she shook her head to reassure the dressmaker, "No, Hongjoong, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known her stepsister would be there. No matter how much we deny it, the truth has a way of surfacing. We can't hide it from her forever."

The others nodded in agreement, though filled with worry at the implications. They knew Eunsook was right. Eventually, you would likely discover the truth. They just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, especially with Seonghwa away at war. The thought of you being possibly swayed by the fourth prince's charms sent shivers down all their spines.

Well shit, that's not good at all.

"San, you're an absolute lifesaver. Thank you so much." You expressed with gratitude after the lengthy crash course he had just given you on dealing with royal figures when attending such events, offering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Returning the smile, the royal secretary noticed the fatigue and stress evident in your expression. He sensed there was more to your distress than just the fourth prince's sudden invitation to his birthday banquet. Perhaps his close relationship with his elder sister had sharpened his perception of women's emotions.

Observing your troubled expression, San gently inquired, "Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Park? If you're worried about the general, I can assure you that he is being partnered with only the best military strategist in all of Joseon. They have yet to lose a single battle thus far, I'm sure this time would be no different."

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words. On one hand, you appreciated his attempt to ease your worries about your husband's safety. On the other hand, a nagging curiosity gnawed at your mind, Jinjoo's words still lingering, urging you to delve deeper into the mysteries surrounding your family's punishments.

San's position as the royal secretary and his close friendship with the general made him an ideal source of information. Surely, he would know the intricate details of the case and could provide you with the answers you sought. However, the thought of uncovering the full truth filled you with trepidation.

What if reality's more than you could bear?

You wrestled with your inner turmoil, unsure of whether to broach the subject with Royal Secretary Choi. Part of you yearned for closure, to finally understand the events that took place without your knowledge. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing the potential consequences of unearthing Seonghwa's carefully buried secrets.

As you glanced at San, who was patiently awaiting your response, you grappled with your decision. Would you dare to confront the shadows of your fears, or would you continue to dwell in uncertainty, afraid of what truths lay beneath?

To hell with it.

Taking a deep breath, you responded, "Thank you for your reassurance regarding my husband's capabilities. However, that's not precisely what's weighing on my mind..."

He arched a curious eyebrow, intrigued by what other concerns could possibly be bothering you besides Seonghwa's safety, "I'm all ears, my lady." He offered, inviting you to share your thoughts.

Lowering your head, you recounted your recent encounter with your stepsister and the unsettling doubts it had stirred within you. Then, with a hesitant tone, you inquired, "May I seek clarification from you regarding my husband's role in the Jang family's punishments?"

San maintained a composed smile, betraying no hint of shock at your revelation. With a calm demeanour, he laced his fingers together before him, "I empathise with your concerns, Lady Park, and I want you to know that they are valid. While the details of the case are confidential, I can offer some clarity to ease your worries."

You held your breath as he continued, "The truth is, His Majesty was responsible for determining your family's physical punishments, but the general took charge of overseeing the entire process."

So, it's true.

Your heart sank at the confirmation.

"Understandably, you may find his involvement frightening. However, you need to know that this has always been the nature of his job. If you think him cruel, remember that every drop of blood shed was in service of this nation's security. He's doing what only a few have the guts to do. And in this case, it's out of love for you that he was determined to ensure that those who harmed you and your mother faced justice. My lady, can you truly fault him for that?"

His words struck you like a boulder, and you realised he might be onto something.

The royal secretary grinned as he observed your expression, knowing his words were making an impact, "Besides, you've been here long enough to witness how good he can be to those he cares about. That includes you, all the staff in this estate, as well as his loyal friends currently seated in the living hall. Surely, there must be a good reason why these people choose to remain by his side, wouldn't you agree?"

Noting your silence and contemplative expression, San understood that you needed time to digest everything. While he hoped he had made a valid point, he knew that your conflicting emotions wouldn't dissipate so easily. Nevertheless, he had done his best to encourage you to keep an open mind and speak the truth.

Ultimately, the next steps were up to you.

"As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have another appointment scheduled in an hour, so I should probably head to my next destination." He announced, rising from his seat opposite you.

His words snapped you out of your reverie as you got up after him, "Ah, yes, of course. I can't thank you enough for everything, San."

As you escorted him towards the exit, he smiled warmly at you, "You're most welcome, Lady Park. Don't fret too much about the royal event next week. I'm sure you'll do splendidly, especially considering you've already managed to impress the fourth prince. He's not an easy royal to handle, so that's quite an achievement."

Prince Yeosang is... not easy to handle?

Before you could ask him to elaborate, the royal secretary was already boarding his carriage. With a defeated sigh, you waved at him as the vehicle began to pull away.

Heading back inside, your mind reeled from his words. His Highness had never seemed difficult around you, so you struggled to comprehend what San meant. Besides his slightly playful demeanour, you didn't find the prince hard to handle in any way.

Before you knew it, your head began to throb with the endless thoughts swirling around. Eunsook rushed over in concern when she saw you swaying, your hands pressed against your temples.

"Mistress! Are you feeling alright? Oh dear, you look exhausted," She exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice, "That's enough studying for today. Go and rest. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."

Throughout the rest of the week, Jongho and the others couldn't bring themselves to warn you about the potential advances of the fourth prince. They noticed how visibly stressed you were, dedicating all your time to refining your ladylike etiquette and practising formal speech with the head maid. Your determination for perfection in your debut at a royal event was clear as day.

After receiving all the help you needed, you were finally ready for the banquet. Standing before the mirror, you inspected yourself, admiring the delicate red flower the dressmaker had once again helped you paint on your forehead, perfectly complementing your new hanbok, "Are you pleased with the look, Lady Park?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Hongjoong. You never disappoint, and you know that."

With newfound confidence, you departed from the general's estate, accompanied by Jongho and Eunsook. Mentally reviewing the list of potential royals in attendance, you appreciated Wooyoung's efforts in the past week as he assisted you with retrieving specific books from the public library and studying the royal family tree.

The private investigator lingered near the estate's entrance after seeing you off, his jaw slightly agape. He had always found you pretty, but seeing you all dressed up and with the flower on your forehead, he was struck by your ethereal beauty. Just as he was about to entertain the thought that Seonghwa must have saved an entire country to deserve someone like you, he realised that might actually be true.

"Excuse me, Jung Wooyoung. That's not your lady to be ogling like that. Behave yourself, or I'll have to whoop your ass on behalf of the general." Hongjoong warned, rolling his eyes as the younger man pouted before sulking back inside the estate.

As your carriage approached the familiar high palace walls, Jongho and Eunsook exchanged determined glances. They had agreed to stick by your side at all times, wanting to protect you from whatever schemes Prince Yeosang might have planned for the event.

"We've arrived, mistress." The assistant announced as the carriage came to a stop.

With the head maid's assistance, you stepped down from the carriage with slightly less ease than when your husband carried you, feeling a pang in your heart as you were reminded of him. Despite your complicated feelings, you couldn't deny the longing for his presence. You hoped he was safe and well while you attended the birthday celebration of another.

Approaching the grand entrance of the hall hosting the fourth prince's birthday banquet, you noticed that the palace staff responsible for announcing guests had recognised you immediately, sparing Jongho the need to introduce you. As you reached the entrance, the staff announced in a loud voice, "Miss Jang, eldest daughter of the former Minister of Military Affairs, has arrived."

Your shock was palpable as the announcement rang out, your eyes widening and your stomach sinking at the unexpected introduction. The last thing you wanted was to be associated with your father, especially not at such a prestigious event. You had been specifically told by the prince that you were here to represent your husband. So why would they announce you like that, using your past title, when you now held a new and official one as the general's wife? The discrepancy left you feeling uneasy and out of place as you stepped into the grand hall.

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

« Preview of Part 16 »

"General Park! Letters for General Park!"

The messenger's urgent cry echoed through the camp, drawing attention to the main tent where Seonghwa typically conducted his affairs between battles. Bursting into the tent, the messenger gasped for breath, his eyes darting around, "Sir, may I enter?"

"Come in," A deep voice replied, but it wasn't the general's. Officer Song, the military strategist, sat alone inside, his gaze fixed on the newcomer, "General Park is uhh... preoccupied elsewhere at the moment. What brings you here, soldier?"

Handing over the stack of letters he carried, the messenger answered, "The general has received a few missives, one from his assistant and another from His Highness, the fourth prince."

Mingi's brow furrowed in confusion, "The fourth prince?"

The messenger nodded vigorously, "Yes, His Highness mentioned it's regarding an urgent matter and should be delivered to the general as soon as possible."

Officer Song nodded in acknowledgement, "I see. Leave it to me, soldier. I'll ensure it reaches him as soon as he's available."

As soon as the messenger departed, Mingi's curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unfolded the letter from Prince Yeosang. His breath hitched as he absorbed the concise yet weighty message. The prince started off by conveying gratitude for Seonghwa's service to the nation and extended well wishes, reassuring him not to worry about returning.

However, the content took a surprising turn with his final paragraph.

'Out of respect for you, I am writing to inform you that I will be proposing to Miss Jang. I believe she deserves the freedom to choose her own husband. Perhaps what she needs is someone who can remain by her side and not cause her any worry. If you truly care about her happiness, you would understand.'

Once again setting the stage for the main event HAHA sorry for the (sorta) filler chapter, but I promise there will definitely be drama in the next part.😈

Also, thank you so much for 1.3k followers! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[levisjinchuriki]

forever yours

summary: you and gojo have been separated for six months due to his troubles. you try to juggle co-parenting your young son and moving on, but gojo makes it obvious he’s not ready to give you up on your relationship yet

warning: just angst

word count: 2.3k

the separation of you and gojo was hard. you had devoted so much of your life, time and energy to him only to feel like you weren’t a priority. it was a terrible feeling you could push past during the first few years together, but after your wedding and the birth of your son, you started to realize how unfair it was. 

gojo’s job kept him away from home a lot, leaving you to take care of your son, haru. when he did manage to get some time off- things just didn’t feel the same as they once were. he always seemed distracted. 

he still loved you, of course. you were the only woman in his life he had ever truly been in love with. that will never change. and he didn’t realize how much he was slacking until you served him divorce papers one night- looking so defeated. it caught him off guard, and he was surprised that you had taken such a step. 

you were steadfast as gojo tried to convince you out of your decision. and when you didn’t budge he realized how many mistakes he’d made leading up to this moment. he couldn’t blame you, but he also couldn’t force you to take him back. 

he didn’t sign the papers. there’s no way in hell he’d do that. delusional or not, he’d convinced himself you’d be together again and going through the motions of a divorce would just complicate everything. he did reach a compromise with you, though. he was forced to accept the reality that he had lost you as his wife. gojo had enough money to take care of both you and haru so you could focus on raising him without having to work. per your request to live separately, gojo moved into an apartment on the other side of town. 

and when gojo put the last of his belongings in the moving truck haru ran up to him, sobbing as his small body clutched at gojo’s legs. 

“don’t go daddy” haru cried against him. it broke gojo’s heart. not only was he losing you as his wife, but his actions had torn his family apart. haru, the light of his life, was forced to be in the middle of his parent’s separation. it wasn’t fair to him and the guilt ate at gojo everyday.

your son loved his father, and if there was one thing gojo prioritized- it was haru. 

you had to turn away as tears slipped down your cheeks. it was almost too much for you to handle. you tried to stick through your marriage for haru’s sake, but you couldn’t keep up the act anymore. and although you were the one pushing him away, it hurt so much to see satoru leave. but it was the best decision for you, both mentally and emotionally. 

he had moved out six months ago now and still, the house felt all too empty.

—

the sound of Haru’s footsteps echo as he moves from room to room, looking for something to occupy his mind. he's become used to his dad not always being around, but he’s just a boy and he still needs his father in his life. gojo is still present, though only on the weekends when he has most of his free time. you would never completely take either of them away from each other. 

you sit on the couch, staring blankly at the screen in front of you- not sure what you had been watching as you aren’t paying attention. haru had been quiet tonight, spending most of his time drawing or playing alone. he’s almost four, now. he’s bright and everything you need. 

you smile as haru walks into the living room, clutching his favorite stuffed animal and rubbing his eyes. 

“mommy,” he yawns softly, “can i call daddy?”.

even after all these months the question is like a knife to your heart. you’ve tried to protect him from the worst of the separation, but the longing in his eyes is something you can’t ignore. you nod, forcing a smile. “of course, baby”. 

the phone rings a few times before gojo answers. his voice always has a warmth to it that makes you melt every time. 

“hey,” he greets. “is it bedtime?”. haru would talk to his dad every night before bed, a ritual that he tries his hardest not to break, even if he is busy with work. 

“yeah, he wants to speak to you”, you say.

haru’s small hands eagerly hold the phone to his ear, his face lights up at the sound of his father’s voice. “daddy! it’s me!”, he says excitedly. your heart melts at how much he loves his father.

gojo’s tone immediately softens. “hi, sweet boy. how’s my little guy doing?” he coos. gojo cherishes every moment he has with haru. it means so much to him to talk to him every night and make sure he’s okay, even if he isn’t around anymore. 

haru babbles about his day and gojo eagerly listens. he loves it when his son gets excited. 

haru clutches the phone tightly after he finishes, suddenly becoming upset. his small voice trembles slightly at his next sentence. “i miss you, daddy. when are you coming home?”. 

the silence on the other end of the line is heavy. gojo’s breathing is a mixture of sadness and regret. he wishes he could be there with the both of you. 

“i miss you too”. he’s not sure how to answer the little boy’s question. it all depends on you and if you are willing to sort through your issues together or not. he hopes you will decide to, but your relationship hasn’t improved much since he moved out. he’s not even sure if you still wear your ring. 

you can see haru’s eyes welling up with tears as he tries to hold back his emotions. 

“why can’t you come home? i want you here with us.”. he didn’t understand why his father had left in the first place. he’s too young to understand the concept of separation, even though you and gojo have explained it to him before. in his mind, if you both love each other then you should all be living together as one. he can’t grasp that even if you love someone so much, sometimes you have to let them go. 

gojo clears his throat. “i know, precious. things are complicated right now, but i promise i’m working on it”. whether he’s successful or not, gojo intends to try to mend things with you in any way he can.

“i’m coming to pick you up tomorrow and we can spend the whole weekend together. how does that sound?”. he tries to cheer haru up. 

the boy sniffles and wipes his eyes. “okay, daddy. i love you”. 

“i love you too, haru,” gojo says softly. “more than anything”. 

after a few more exchanged words and assurances, haru hands the phone back to you before climbing in your lap. you rub his back comfortingly as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“you still there?”, gojo asks. without needing to mask his tone for his son, you can hear just how defeated he sounds. 

you confirm you’re still on the line. the conversation is short- you and gojo discussing when to meet at the park tomorrow for him to pick up haru. in the last few months you’ve stopped having personal conversations with him- just trying to focus on co-parenting. it was easier for you that way.

you look down at your son and brush his hair from his face. he’s a spitting image of his father- same ghostly white locks and stunning eyes that held all the potential of the world within them. every time you looked at him, it was like seeing a smaller, more innocent version of satoru. and that made it harder to move on.

“daddy loves you very much. we’ll see him soon, okay?”, you assure him with a kiss on the head. 

haru nods against your shoulder, his small frame cuddled up to you. “okay, mommy”.

you hold him tightly, wishing you can offer more than just words of comfort. the house is still big and empty, but you try to fill it with all the love and reassurance you could muster. for haru’s sake, you hope that someday soon, this will all be behind you.

—

haru’s laughter rings out as he chases a butterfly through the empty park, the pure sound filling the air with a sweetness that tugs at your heart. you watch him, torn between the joy of his innocence and the ache of the life you once dreamed of with satoru. the butterfly flutters just out of haru's reach, and he giggles, his happiness a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

the crunch of footsteps on gravel snaps you out of your thoughts, and though you don’t look up, you know who it is. satoru’s presence is unmistakable, a force that commands attention even without a word. he slides onto the bench beside you, close enough that his warmth seeps into your skin without touching you. he watches haru play for a moment before turning his attention to you. 

“i missed you”. his voice is sweet like honey, the words slipping out effortlessly. it’s that natural charm, the way he makes even the simplest phrases sound enchanting, that drew you to him in the first place. 

you turn to face him, finally meeting his gaze. those damn blue eyes–deep and endless like the ocean—have always been your weakness, pulling you in no matter how hard you try to resist. they hold a mix of emotions, swirling with the memories of a past you can’t quite let go of. his eyes search yours, and for a moment, it feels like time stops, as if the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you and the unspoken feelings hanging in the air.

“what we had was a life full of complications,” you respond, not allowing yourself to get pulled into his trap. “you’re still in that world, satoru. and i can’t be a part of it anymore. haru can’t be a part of it”. 

his jaw tightens as a flicker of determination flashes in his eyes. “just because you’re pushing me away doesn’t mean i’m gonna give up”, his voice is low, laced with a quiet resolve.  “i haven’t given up on us”. the weight of his words hangs between you, thick with emotion, as if he’s daring you to believe him, to see the fight still left in him.

your heart aches at his words. you want to believe him, to let yourself fall back into the warmth of his promises. there is still so much love in your heart for satoru, but love alone isn’t enough to mend the things that had broken you apart. the dangers he faced daily, the secrets he kept hidden away, the growing distance that had slowly stretched between you until it became an uncrossable chasm—it had all become too much. the memories of what you once had clash with the reality of what you've lost, leaving you torn between the past and the painful truth of the present.

“don’t make this harder than it already is.” you plead, feeling your resolve weaken. he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. 

i’m not ready to let you go,” he admits, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “i don’t know if i’ll ever be.”

the confession hangs between you, heavy and unresolved. it would be so easy to slip back into old habits, to let him back in and pretend that everything could be okay again. but you deserve more than that. and deep down, you know the truth. satoru isn’t ready to change, and you aren’t ready to keep living in a world where he could be taken away at any moment. the weight of his unfulfilled promises and the uncertainty of your future press down on you, a reminder of the painful reality you can’t escape.

“haru needs stability,” you say softly, pulling your hand away. “he needs a life that doesn’t revolve around waiting for his father to come home in one piece”. gojo doesn’t miss a beat

“and what about you?” satoru asks, his voice laced with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “what do you need?”

for a moment, silence envelops you both, the weight of the question hanging heavily in the air, unspoken yet profoundly understood. you look at him, at the man who once meant everything to you, and feel the tears well up in your eyes.

you need to move on. it’s been half a year, and you’re still in the same place, still foolishly hoping that satoru will change overnight. still waiting for him to burst through the door, fall to his knees, and apologize for everything that’s gone wrong in your relationship. the reality of your stagnant situation presses down on you, a painful reminder that hope alone isn’t enough to mend the fractures that have grown too deep.

haru’s laughter rings out again, drawing both of your eyes to him as he runs toward you, blissfully unaware of the tension between his parents. satoru stands up as haru reaches him, lifting him into his arms with a grin that makes your heart clench. he showers haru’s chubby cheeks with kisses, telling him how much he’s missed him this week, making haru giggle with delight.sSatoru is such a good father, and that only makes everything harder.

“ready to go?” he asks, holding haru close. the boy nods, and satoru tells him to say goodbye to you.

“bye, mommy!” haru waves enthusiastically. you kiss his cheek and tell him you’ll pick him up soon.

“i’ll see you sunday?” satoru confirms, his gaze searching yours.

you nod, unable to trust your voice. with one last wave at haru you watch as they make their way toward his car. as they disappear from view, the weight of what you’re leaving behind settles heavily over you. moving on was never easy, but with satoru, it feels almost impossible.

----

>> ch 2

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading!! everyone is welcome to leave feedback and requests in my inbox!! please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[love-bitesx]

: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

[kaita0]

Til the Day I Die One

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader Word Count: 2k

Summary: You have a big fat crush on the lone wolf and you try so hard to avoid and shove your feelings down. What happens when two people who clearly like each other constantly avoid their feelings and hide their emotions?

Warnings: Angst, Slow Burn,

Notes: Reader has wings/Eagle Mutant with Talons

“Jean I just found-” You cut yourself off with the sight before you. There sat a topless rugged man with dark brown hair with an equally dark-haired beard. Sweat glistening down his body, mouth agape at the sight before your eyes. You didn’t know what to say. What can you say at this moment? So many thoughts were going through your mind for miles at a time. 

You heard your name being called multiple times. A sheepish smile appeared on your lips. “I’m sorry!” You move your wings to shield your face. “I didn’t know you had a guest.” You could hear two pairs of chuckles coming from in front of you. “It's ok, There’s no need to worry. Just give me a few minutes to get this big guy settled.” You nod your head even though they are unable to see it. As you scurry out of the clinic, you fail to see the way the mysterious man’s eyes follow after you. 

Ever since you caught a glimpse of the man, you just couldn’t get him out of your head. From his muscular body to his strong jaw. Or even the protruding veins running along his big arms. The way he would saunter around the school, a smug grin on his face that was filled with confidence and arrogance. You kept your distance, choosing to always watch from a safe yet wonderful distance. 

You could already feel your face start to burn up and the big fat grin appearing on your face at the thought of him. You feel someone tap your shoulder, and your eyes meet with Storm’s as she has a small grin on her face. “What you thinking about?” She asks, her voice was playful. “Nothing important.” A small ‘sure’ leaves Ororo’s lips. You turn your whole body to her, tilting your head in confusion. “Is there something wrong?” She shakes her head at your words. “Nothing really, The professor wants you in his office.” 

You are confused on this information. As you haven’t been having any troubles with the students or with missions. So what could he possibly be asking you about now? “I guess, I will go now. See you later?” Your words come out more so as a question than a statement. Ororo smiles and nods her head, watching you go up the stairs of the mansion. Once you reach the professor’s door, you give it a light knock. Even though your mutant abilities are very animal-like, doesn’t mean you are actually one. 

You hear a soft ‘come in’ before you open the door. “I am sorry to interrupt, but I promise I did nothing wrong this time-“ You cut yourself off when your eyes lay on the other person in the office. There stood the man you had been thinking about for the past few days, arms crossed and a smug expression on his face. “Hello my dear, I have a small request of you.” You slowly step into the room and close the door softly behind you. “It’s time you officially met our guest, Logan.” Finally getting the name of the mysterious man, you reach your hand for a formal shake. At first, it seemed Logan was only going to sit there and stare at your hand but after a while, he eventually shakes your hands. 

He gave your hand a very firm shake before quickly letting go. “I need you to show Logan around. Let him get a bit more aquatinted with what we do here.” Your eyes quickly turn to the Professor. “I am confused. He’s been here for 2 days, surely others are better suited to be his guide around here. Like Ororo or even Jean. Hell, maybe even Scott. I just don’t think it's wise for me to do when I have only been here for a few months.” You explain, Charles nodding along with your words. 

“Don’t worry, you will do great. It is nothing major after all just a tour. As for your questions on Ororo, Jean, and Scott. I have them doing a mission we spoke of previously.” A small sigh escapes your lips. “Ok, I’ll show him around.” You can see the smile appearing on Charles’ face. “Perfect. Now run along you two. There is a lot to uncover.” Before long you and Logan stood outside of the professor’s door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was starting to feel like some sort of setup. “Well, Aren’t you going to show me around?” 

You glance in his direction, seeing how his eyes wander around the mansion. As you begin to explain the purpose of all of this. The reason why the Professor started this school for the gifted, is the reason the X-Men exist. You bother now outside of the mansion, taking a small stroll in the garden. “Do you have any questions?” You ask Logan, not really having your eyes on him but the pond in front of the both of you. There's no need to actually look at him since you see his reflection in the water. You weren’t ready to see the way his eyes trailed along your body as if examining you. 

“How do they work?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion, such as a vague question. You turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?” That's when you feel a slight tug on your wings, making them unconsciously spread. Logan’s eyes run along the wings, not to mention his surprise and fascination. Just silently listen to your words. “I mean, it's the same as when you control your arms.” You begin to demonstrate by folding and unfolding your wings. “It’s like when you take those claws you got.” Logan’s eyebrows scrunch together. “They are not claws.” 

A small smirk appears on your lips. “So what would you call them?” You watch as his mouth opens to close once again. A loud grunt leaves his lips as he turns away from you and begins to walk away. “Hold up, Don’t get mad at me because you don’t know. Mr. Claw.” If you thought he was moving quickly then, you couldn’t even describe the pace he was going now. Using your wings to float above him. “No need to get so angry! I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He continues to ignore you as he enters the mansion, leaving you in the air behind him. You gracefully land on the floor and continue following behind him. “I didn’t show you where your bedroom is. Unless you want to go back into the lab room where you have been.” Logan’s feet come to a stop, making the grin already on your face widen at his display. 

You only got to be around him for a few hours alone and honestly, he seems like a big grumpy old wolf to you. A little laugh escapes your lips as you think of the comparison. “What you laughing about?” You are startled by his words and shake your head. “Nothing just follow me.” You lead him to his room. “Well, Good night.” The awkwardness between you two is so thick you decide to just run along. You left without hearing your own good night from Logan. “Goodnight to you too, bub.”

As the night grew apparent, Logan lay in bed thinking of everything that had happened. The fight he got into with “Sabbertooth”, the impending doom of Magneto, and You. He obviously couldn’t sleep with these many things on his mind. Eyes land on the clock next to him reading ‘3:45 AM’  He grumbles under a “shit” under his breath as he slides out of the bed. His feet touched the cold tiles on the floor. He takes steady and long steps out the door and to the kitchen. 

In the kitchen, he sees the fridge door open. He raises an eyebrow and wonders who could possibly be in the kitchen at this time of night. He could see the feathers peaking out around the fridge door. “What are you doing up?” He could see you jump and quickly close the door to the fridge. He could see how rigid your body was from shock. He watched it sink into a more comfortable aura. The furrowed eyebrows fall and rest calmly back onto your face. 

Logan was so worried watching your facial features that he didn’t hear a word you said. “Huh?” He questions you. “I said I came for a small snack. What are you doing up?” You raise your eyebrow, curiosity was evident in your eyes as you search his whole body. He folds his arms together and leans against the kitchen doorframe. A cocky grin on his lips. “Hoping to find some beer. You can even say I’m also looking for a snack.” He watches the smile grow on your lips as you shake your head. “I don’t have any beer or any sort of liquor. This is still a school after all. I do have some Chamomile tea.” Logan scrunches his face up in confusion. “What is that?” You turn to go into one of the cabinets to pull out a yellow box. You open it to show him the many tea packets inside. 

“I don’t think I want that.” He grumbles. “I promise, this will have you sleep quicker than any brand of bee can.” Logan’s facial expression still doesn’t change as he isn’t convinced about the effects of the tea. “And how do I know I can trust you on these things? You are so bold to compare the two.” You send him a little smile. “Just because we are in a school, doesn't mean I don’t have a life outside of all this. Just trust me.” Logan was amused by this. His genuine first impression of you, cute, small, shy little thing. After all, Logan was twice your size and the first time he saw you covered your face with your wings. You just seemed so fragile. 

He decided he was going to trust you and sent you a small nod before sitting down at the table inside the kitchen. You clasp your hands together as you begin to bowl the water. Once you fixed up the cup, you set it in front of Logan, who eyed you suspiciously. You nudge the cup once more so he can take the hint. After a few minutes, he takes the cup and takes a few sips. He sets the cup down, eyes closed because of the warm feeling running down his throat. He would be lying if he said the tea didn’t taste good. You stand there awaiting his reaction. He gives a slight nod in acknowledgment. 

“See, it's good, isn’t it? We can sit and drink together.” You pull out your cup and sit next to him. You both sit in silence as you drink your cups of tea. It didn’t take long for you to finish your cup, Logan was done a while ago. He had even begun to drink the empty cup in hopes of just sitting here a little longer. Your presence just makes things go quiet. It makes it easier to just exist with this silence. “Well, I’m all done. Hope to see you tomorrow.” Logan watches you get up from your seat and leaves the kitchen. You stop before you fully leave. “Goodnight, Bub.” He was taken aback by the statement, he didn’t think you heard him. A smile forms on his lips at this. He too begins to get up to go to his room. The effects of the tea hit him as his eyelids began to feel heavy. He makes it to his room where he flops in and sleep takes him. 

Logan tosses and turns in the bed, broken memories going through his mind as a nightmare. He begins to mutter unknown words. There stood Rouge over his sleeping body, staring at him. Her expression stretched with worry as she looked down at Logan. Her hands slowly creeping to touch Logan. As if awoken by the small touch, Logan launches out of the bed and towards Rouge. His claws were already outstretched and stabbing into her upper chest. A loud gasp left Rouge's lips at the sudden pain etching through her body. Without much thought, her hands reach out to grab onto Logan’s arm. 

Almost as if Logan was under a spell, his eyes blink quickly before everything settles in. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” He began to repeat over and over again. His words stopped once he too felt pain coursing through his body. Starting at his arm and leading up to his neck and head. A loud growl escapes his lips as he crumbles to the ground. The door to the room slams open and Storm and many others are behind her. “What’s going on in here?” Rouge guilty turns her head around and mutters, "It was an accident.” As You and Storm rush to Logan’s aid. 

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, and grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Where do you go to, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings.”

She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas, yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

[moongreenlight]

Need more secret wife please 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday? WIP Wednesday.

Secret Wife p3 SMALL UPDATE that I have been hoarding like a dragon with treasure lol (I am riddled with guilt)

It takes Johnny upwards of two hours sat alone in his car in silence to fully process what just happened. He’d tried to ask a thousand follow up questions in some rapid-fire babble, but he was met with a wall of stony silence. Goes on stupidly for well over two minutes until Ghost knocks him with a cupped palm on his temple. Little rougher than could be considered friendly, but nowhere near harmful. Served to bring him back to earth.

“Take a breath, sergeant.”

The low rumble of Simon’s voice barely rises over the dull roar of the cars around them.

“Fuck off.”

Johnny looks less gobsmacked than he feels.

“Mind your manners.”

A bite. He must’ve quit smoking around you for the time being. Made him more waspish than usual.

“Cannae believe you, bastard. Kept a secret tha’ big from us all this time?”

Simon took a labored breath in. A sigh like the stiffness of his muscles was creating a vice around his lungs. He threw a sideways glance back toward your car a few aisles over. Like he was making sure you were still there and situated. Pursed his lips and rubbed the bridge of his nose while saying something about how Soap was to under no circumstance take you up on the dinner offer. Turned on his heel and made his way back over to you without a goodbye.

Johnny had half a mind to disobey out of sheer bull-headedness but decided against it just before he sent you a message on his last day of leave. Deleted the text he’d drafted and resigned to trying to press Simon more about things when they got back on base.

He tried, persistent bugger that he is, to pester his L.T. to give up more information. When the two of you’d gotten married. Why he hadn’t said anything. Why wasn’t he invited to the wedding? Was there a wedding? Does anyone else know? All fruitless. Snubbed each time.

He would have been offended if he hadn’t come to know Ghost so well over the years. He’s cagey at his warmest, so it’s no real surprise that he’s kept this under lock and key. The real shock came from the understanding that it happened at all in the first place. Johnny had a hard time wrapping his mind around someone as kind and welcoming as you somehow getting tangled with someone as stoic and brutish as Ghost. He tried to conjure up infinitely many situations where the two of you met and the coupling made sense, but he never stumbled on one that felt right.

Your went into labor over a month early. Just a few weeks after the boys had returned to base. Four hours before the boys were due to board a flight that would deploy them for three weeks. It was the only time Simon had ever been late to call. Johnny was sent to go track him down by an extraordinarily eggy Price.

He found him ready to leave, rifle slung over his back like a soldier. Pacing the hall outside your room in the bay. Down a short corridor in the back that usually hosted surgeries. He was whale-eyed and hostile toward the sound of Johnny’s boots echoing across the brick. It was jarring to see him so agitated. His hulking frame tangibly vibrating through the pounds of gear he was sporting. He truly considered just walking away. Spinning some tale about desertion because that seemed entirely less daunting than trying to corner an animal like Ghost.

Johnny eventually got him to leave. It was a non-option at this point, just a matter of getting the big bastard into the chopper. Tugging him away was like leashing a feral dog. He was fanatical, tugging at the lead and choking himself the entire way across the landing pad. Didn’t stop snarling until he was pushed down into his seat by Price and made to shut up.

[bloodlinesgirly]

Fearing the fall~ Daryl Dixon

warning: angst(first time writing it) blood, violence

word count: 1452

set in alexandria(no mention of when)

x reader (long hair mentioned but that’s it)

requested (i hope this is what you were imagining!)

not proofread

There are very few people who can ever say they had a connection with daryl dixon. He’d be the last to admit it but you were one of them. But with you it’s different, it’s not like it is with rick or maggie, or even carol. it’s different. you're different.

The first time he felt it was when you sat in his lap, bandaging the wounds on his face.

“i already told ya m’fine” he growled, trying to slap your hands away from his face but you persisted. dipping a washcloth in warm water, dabbing the blood away from his cuts.

“you’re not fine, Daryl, you’re bleeding.” you apply the last bandage, giving him a pat on the back, a signal telling him you were finished. he huffed at you like usual.

the second time he felt it was scavenging through a grocery store on a run, he knew you were strong, you could do it alone, but he couldn’t let you. he needed the peace of mind knowing he was there in case you couldn’t handle things. you’ve always handled things. you’ve been through 10x more than any human ever should. you weren’t weak and you definitely didn’t need him glued to your side in an already cleared grocery store. he knew that. so why did he feel otherwise?

the third time he felt it was the strongest. blood gushed from your thigh, impaled with the knife of a man you were trying to help. you sobbed and screamed for help. but you kept fighting. you were losing blood, you could feel yourself going in and out of consciousness. but you kept moving, taking down the man who managed to deceive you. daryl was a few feet into the woods pulling arrows out of some animal when he heard you scream. his heart raced as he dropped everything and ran, screaming your name trying to find you. he was being reckless, what if there were walkers nearby? what if he tripped and hurt himself? but he didn’t care. the only thought in his mind was getting to you. he saw red when he finally found you, sat against a tree unconscious, the man dead at your side. he laid you down, putting your head in his lap, doing everything in his power to wake you up.

“cmon’ please…you’re okay…you have to be okay” tears fell down his cheeks and dripped onto your forehead. He felt you stir, coming back to consciousness once again. daryl had never felt more relief than he did in that moment. he got you home, the doctors in alexandria were able to stitch up your leg. you were okay. why wasn’t he there to protect you? why didn’t he work faster, pay more attention? He blamed himself for everything that happened that day. he was cursed. everyone hes ever cared about has gotten hurt or worse.

So he stopped letting you in. no longer was daryl dixon the man you laughed with, cried to, or went to for help. he promised himself he’d always do anything to protect you but he will never let you in, infect you the way he has so many others.

The day was warm, sweat dripped down your neck as you pulled your hair up tight in a ponytail. you saw daryl perched on the porch of carols home. His biceps speckled with dirt and maybe some freckles from the sun. he shook the hair from his face before lighting his cigarette and taking a drag from it. you bounced your way over to him, shooting him a smile like you always did. he didn’t smile back, he didn’t even look your way. maybe he didn’t notice you, you thought. “hey! daryl, do you mind helping me with some of this gardening stuff? it’s hot and a lot of this stuff needs out of the ground and-“ you started to ramble on like normal. the way you always were able to when it came to him.

“nah” he grumbled

“i was thinking maybe you could-huh” your voice dropped, he’d never flat out denied you like that before.

“busy.” he spoke flatly.

“oh…okay” you frowned, confused and almost hurt. you returned back to your work anyways.

a week later.

It was killing him and he didn’t know why. you’d come up to him trying to speak to him like usual and every time, you were met with a dry response or nothing at all. everytime he watched your excited expression drop, everytime he watched you hold back tears, it broke him. it had never been hard for him to take a step back before, ignoring people and staying to himself has always been his thing. until you. he craved your presence like no other. he wanted to hear your laugh, see your face focus as you patched him up, the way your eyebrows crinkle when he annoyed you, your animated expressions as you retell your day, but most importantly he missed the way you’d hug him after every conversation, no matter how much he complained. he was hurting himself so he wouldn’t hurt you.

but he was hurting you, he was making you question where you went wrong constantly. and what hurt more was that you could never think of an answer. so you found yourself in bed with tear stained cheeks yet again. you loved him more than anyone, even if he would never be ready to love you back.

Over the next week and a half you’d gotten maybe 4 words out of daryl. you kept pushing, working conversation after conversation out of him until eventually it was just too much.

“daryl please can you just talk to me…that’s all i’m asking.” it was dark and the sounds of raindrops hitting heavy on porch roof was almost enough to drown out your voice. you were begging him to speak and he couldn’t, no matter how bad he wanted to give in he couldn’t let himself. the second he lets you back in he’s trapped you, you’ll get hurt and it’ll all be his fault. he couldn’t deal with the pain of losing you, having you from a distance was enough if it meant having you at all.

“please..” your voice cuts through his thoughts, he looks at your face finally. you’re crying, his heart sank, he didn’t want to make you cry, he was supposed to protect you.

“no…no please don’t cry..” he whispers just loud enough to be heard.

“what did i do wrong daryl…please…please just tell me and i’ll fix it. i’ll fix everything i promise” your cries get louder, your sobs break up your sentences. he jumps up to wrap his arms around you.

“you didn’t do anythin’…i thought i was protecting you.” he spoke into your hair, every sob pulled from your throat tore him apart a little more.

“what? protect me? you’re not protecting me daryl. you’re hurting me.” hearing those words come from your mouth is what he needed. it’s what he needed to realize exactly why he felt the way he felt. he promised he’d never hurt you and now look what’s happened. he’s done exactly that. why did he do all this? because he loved you. you’re the only person who’s ever shown him what love is, and how good it can be.

“i was scared…m’sorry…m’ sorry” he repeated softly.

“scared of what daryl?….me? i don’t get it.” you question, your voice is shaking as you look up at him. his expression is soft and almost sad looking.

“i…i feel for you…in ways i’ve never felt f’anyone” he responds, his voice is strained and gruff as he speaks.

you can hear your heart beating in your ears

“…what do you mean?”

daryl clears his throat before pulling you back to his chest, he hesitates before speaking into your hair.

“…i love you..”

he hears you sob again, picking your head up you wipe tears from your eyes.

“i love you too daryl, more than you realize. i always have and i always will, no matter what.” you hug him tightly and finally he hugs you back, his arms tight around your waist. you look up at him, smiling softly before reaching up to cup his face and pull him into a kiss. it’s sweet, exactly what you had imagined.

he’s always known you were different, it took him longer than most people would to accept it. he loved you and there was nothing he could do about it. he is yours just as you are his. his promise to protect you stays the same. the only difference is he’s no longer protecting you from himself.

i’d love to make a second part to this if interested!

[ppongie]

H.VERNON - Blew it

You’ve been thinking a lot lately. About whether to leave your boyfriend or not. And as embarrassing as it sounds, you two have been official for a short amount of time, three months.

The reason why you wanted to break things off with him is because his past haunts you. The amount of women he slept in bed with, his natural flirty personality, and he lacks communication.

You told him you’d be understanding with him and what he’s going through but, your feelings are all mixed up now. He’s the type of guy to get into trouble and not care at all, the tattoos on his arms says it all.

You were now standing near an empty alleyway where it all began. It’s where you first met him, your first kiss with him, and the first time he’s ever confessed to you.

They were lovely memories but, right now he’s not that available for you anymore and it sucks.

You then heard a familiar engine noise that came from afar, it was him riding his motorcycle. You’ve texted him in the middle of the night to ‘talk’ and that was enough to make him get up and meet you.

You were hugging yourself from how cold it was and your eyes followed his every move. He shook his head after taking his helmet off and placed it on the bike. He turned and immediately catches your silhouette.

He walked towards you with his hands in his pockets, blowing out smoke from his mouth.

He’s been smoking.

He walked up to your side. “Hey, I saw your text” you looked up at him and nod. Taking a few steps back, you leaned to the wall. “There’s something I want to tell you.. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now.”

He stood still and stared at you with no worry in his eyes. “Alright.. tell me.” He removed his hands from his pockets to fold his arms, he was standing across from you leaving a respectable amount of space between you two.

“I think we should end this.” You gestured with your index finger, between you and him. He only tilted his head in confusion “What?”

“I mean,” you let out a sigh trying to collect your thoughts “I want us to break up.”

Vernon was very confused, his brows knitted together as he heard those words come out your lips “You’re fucking with me, right?” His lips curved into a grin, letting out a chuckle “You made me wake up at four in the morning just to pull this prank on me?” He was taking the conversation as a joke, like he always does with you. Never had a serious conversation in his life.

“No im serious” your lips trembled as you talked “I don’t think the word ‘forever’ is by our side anymore.”

Vernon scoffed “What is this?- you think it’s like the movies? Like we’re going to have a picture perfect relationship, of course we’re going to face hardships, y/n.” As he kept talking his voice got louder.

You stared at him as your pupils were shaking “I know-“

“If you know then why’re ending things so early!” He was very frustrated now, his tone said it all. “Because you’re a wild guy, and I don’t know what you’re up to most of the time. So I think you’re out with friends acting like animals.” You fought back at his words

“You ‘think’. And animals- seriously?” He started pacing in his spot, “I don’t tell you where I am most of the time because it’s non of your concern.”

“Because you’re sleeping with someone else, right?”

“Fuck no-“

“Then why don’t you tell me!”

“Because I don’t want to!”

“That’s not an excuse” you breathe out.

Staring at the dirty wall covered in paint was far more relaxing than looking into his eyes. For now.

He only shook his head “I’ll let you know where I am when I want to. We’ve only dated for like.. what? Three months? And you think I’ll fully open up to you just like that?” He asked too many questions at once.

You stayed quiet and kept looking at the wall, then you heard his foot steps coming closer to you “I’ll talk to you when I’m ready, I don’t want to scare you away..” he whispered.

You bite your lower lip and looked down at your shoes “You already did..” tears started to built up your waterline. You wiped them away quickly with the back of your hand.

“So you’re going to cry now?” He complained in an awful tone, “Trying to make me feel guilty for not talking to you that much?” He continued and you scoffed in disbelief “You’re being a dick.” You retorted.

“Says the one who wants to break up out of no where at four in the morning. The fuck did I do?” He squints his eyes at you, shrugging.

“Vernon, what the fuck?” You were now as frustrated as him.

He only shook his head once more “You tell me.”

“I’m ending things because you’re not making enough efforts like I do.” You faced him with tears blurring your vision “That’s bullshit and we both know that.”

You still don’t get why he’s holding on to you when during the relationship he’s been nothing but dry and needy.

“I just need a break from you.” You tried to word your sentence better, for him to agree with you. But Vernon still won’t budge.

“Fucking talk to me about it and we’ll sort things out, you can’t just leave me like this.” His eyes finally met your teary ones. “I’ll talk to you when I’m ready” you copied his words before stepping away.

He caught you by the arm “Where do you think you’re going?” You tried to pull your arm away from him but his grip was too strong “Anywhere but here.”

You say as you struggled to get out of his grip, your sobs failing you miserably “Without a ride? At this time?” He replied.

“I don’t care-“ “Well, I care. I’m dropping you off.”

You failed to argue back with him. Too tired of this nonsense to continue. “Vernon stop.”

“Just stop it.” He then let go of your arm, stopping his tracks after reaching to his bike. It did break him to see you like this, a crying mess, but he won’t ever show it.

“Fine. Go. You brought this to yourself.”

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Alright, here we go

First and foremost I want to talk about what flying bark's animation has meant to me.

In a world where every day I see 2d animation being rejected for cheaper 3d and puppet animation at every turn, Monkie Kid's animation was the one of the first things that gave me hope for the future of 2D animation. I can't tell you how long I've been wanting a 2D animated show, growing up I wanted one so desperately, I craved good animation amongst the stiff 3D and flat storytelling, so when I got it, when Monkie Kid happened, I was so unbelievably happy. It was everything I wanted in a show, gorgeous animation, excellent voice actors, romance free and friendly to my desperate friendship-craving, romance-overstimulated brain and written in a way I enjoyed so much. I struggle to describe exactly how much I’ve adored everything this show has been up until this point. It truly is a masterpiece.

Monkie kid has kept me company during the lowest and roughest points in my life. I got to such a bad place mentally but Monkie Kid’s fast-paced, snappy, detailed, colourful bright animation brought light into my darkest mental times and not only helped me stay connected with people but kept me creating even when I wanted nothing more than to lay on the floor and never move again. I'm aware most of the flying bark team is active on the bird app and none of them are gonna see this most likely but I still just wanted to say thank you. Thank you so much for animating this show, thank you so much for giving it your all. Thank you so much for giving me something I’ve always wanted so perfectly. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for keeping me company at my lowest, thank you for sharing your joy of animation so I could catch some of those rays of sunlight and feel a little of that joy too. Thank you for your positivity and good vibes, thank you. 

I know so many people have gotten inspiration from flying bark and I have to add myself to the infinite list. My art has improved so much thanks to their inspiration. My style has developed, I’ve had so much fun, I’ve written some of my favorite works ever based off of expressions that the characters make alone. My last amv I made because I was so grateful for the animation that we'd gotten up to that point. I wanted to showcase, to thank, to appreciate. I didn’t know it would be a goodbye. Words can't describe all that flying bark's animation and even their storyboards have done for me. When nothing could make me happy, monkie kid wormed its way into my brain and somehow kept me in one piece. I know that wouldn’t have been possible without the animation that left me at the edge of my seat, breathless and laughing over how incredible it really was every single time. Every new clip, every new episode I’d pause and rewatch again, I’d rewatch over and over, I’d take screenshots of every goofy background character, I’d screenshot every expression I could, I’d go through episodes frame-by-frame, literally one at a time for hours on end just so i could catch every detail, I’d open my eyes wider and wider to try and take in every bit I could in a way I’ve never been able to do before because there is nothing else out there like monkie kid. There was nothing as fun and as joyful as every single frame that flying bark gave us. And I am going to miss that so much.

The fact that season 4 was a sendoff is so heartbreaking to me, it's hard to describe how devastated I feel knowing something that kept hold of my hand when I was facing hard hard things in my life is suddenly gone. I don’t know how to ever express how important this show has been to me, it’s kept me going and helped me get to a place where I could breathe again. It’s connected me with some of the greatest people I know. It’s given me incredible experiences, introduced me to what animation could be and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt having to say goodbye so suddenly. 

I know this isn’t the end of Monkie Kid as a show. I know season 5 is still coming. And I also know Monkie Kid has lost a huge part of what made it unique and special, a huge part of its heart and soul. Without flying bark it feels like half the show is missing and although I hope I can still support the show, no one can deny the cavern-sized hole that is left by flying bark’s absence in it. The animation team has such an incredibly positive atmosphere around them that just absolutely radiates from the things they create. I am going to miss that so desperately in monkie kid. I’m going to support every other show flying bark works on, I’m still going to love their animation wherever it goes, but I am going to miss it in monkie kid like nothing else I’ve ever missed.

I do have some other thoughts regarding the new changes in monkie kid but I wanted to keep that separate from the actual farewell, so that’ll be it’s own post and I just want to end this by saying thanks for everything Flying Bark you’ve been a real one. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re already being missed so hard it hurts. Keep those good vibes and keep up what you’re doing. You all really are incredible and an inspiration to artists everywhere. We love this show because of the voice actors, because of the writers, because of the music but a great deal of people loved this show because of you. You’ve inspired a community of artists, you’ve inspired me. Thank you flying bark for everything you've given us, you gave it your all and I’m gonna carry the impact you left on me for the rest of my life. 

LOVE YOU FLYING BARK. Here's to a bright future. Thanks for everything <3 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

pleeeeaaaasee do more shane x reader (preferably gender neutral). Your writing is so good and the "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" one broke me. You're a hurt/comfort master

HAH you've given me another idea from this ask alone (insp by my farmer getting alex's 8 heart event while married to shane)

Sorry gang I swear fluffier stuff with Shane is coming

.....

It was just a few days into summer, and Shane already had plans to change up his usual routine once again.

Ever since moving onto your farmland, he found himself getting more motivated to take longer walks. This morning, he planned on doing so after ensuring the crops were watered and the animals were well-fed.

He greeted the cows, rabbit, pigs, and chickens as they filed out of the coop and barn one-by-one, not letting any of them miss their daily pets. Seeing the ostrich and little green dinosaur emerge didn't faze him as much as it did the first time he saw them--he still had no clue how you acquired their eggs (especially one from the skull caverns), but you didn't treat them any differently.

They were both lovable creatures. Just like the blue chickens he introduced you to several months ago.

Knowing you raised some and kept them on the farm made him beam with pride, glad he got to stay here and help run things in your steed.

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

You set off for the beach earlier than usual today, having left a note on the table, and Shane opted to just hang back and repair some of the fences that were looking a bit worn out.

According to the TV, it was a "good luck day", and you hoped to find fortune in the form of a rainbow shell washed up on the coast. You certainly loved foraging them, but even if there weren't any around, you figured you'd go fishing.

Your husband wasn't the best at either skill, although a few hours after you left, he felt a little bored and decided to go visit the beach. Maybe you could use his moral support since other people--mainly Willy and Elliot-mentioned hearing you curse like a sailor when you were wrestling with a fish...or when said fish escaped your line.

He could be there to cheer you up, or teasingly bet on how many joja cola cans you'll fish out of the ocean.

That would be pretty funny, he thought.

So he headed off on his usual walking route, but instead of going to Cindersap Forest or stopping by Pelican Town's river, he ventured towards the beach, greeting whoever said "hello" to him.

Upon arrival, however, Shane stopped in his tracks as he noticed you weren't entirely alone on the beach.

It wasn't Willy, Elliot, Leah, nor that parrot kid you rescued from Ginger Island, but Alex.

He wouldn't have minded that so much....if not for the fact that you two were sitting awfully close together on the coast, overlooking the foamy waves. You were totally oblivious to his presence, so he hung back with suspicion.

Of course, he knew you were growing more sociable with the rest of the villagers, and he didn't want your marriage to be the reason you stopped talking to people.

Even so..something didn't feel right about this, especially as he watched you move closer to Alex, putting an arm around him. And when the younger male put his head on your shoulder, Shane's heart dropped.

You were talking, but obviously he couldn't make out what you were saying thanks to the noisy waves and annoying seagulls.

At this point, however, it became clear what was going on.

And it made him feel utterly sick to his stomach, his mind constantly circling back to one conclusion. Only one explanation as to why you'd ever be that close to Alex, and perhaps why you've been frequently leaving the farm earlier than normal:

You were seeing him behind his back, thinking he'd never find out.

He didn't know how else to interpret that. How else could he?

But of everybody in this town, why did it have to be the guy who reminded him of his youthful days in gridball?

The guy who radiated positivity and was always in high spirits?

The guy who wasn't old and weak and depressed...like him?

'I knew it..they finally got bored of me. But why would they do this?' Scowling, he felt like storming over and saying something, but he couldn't will himself to freak out here and now.

No.

Why bother?

Instead he decided to turn on his heel and storm back to the farm, nearly tripping over a rainbow shell as he did so. The saloon was closed, so he couldn't escape there...but he'll settle for rotting in bed until you come home.

You'll be back, and he'll confront you then.

.......

Coming back to the farmland around noon, you frowned a bit as you didn't see Shane anywhere outside. He wasn't at the mini coop like he normally was, and poor Charlie was looking for him.

"Where did he go, Charles? Hm?" With a soft coo, you kneeled down to pet the chicken. She clucked, her beak pointing towards the cabin, and you thanked her with a small handful of corn before continuing inside.

However, as soon as you stepped into a rather quiet house, all the excitement sapped out of you. You'd normally hear him playing video games or watching a Tunneler's game, but as you entered your shared bedroom...you found him just laying down, his back turned to you.

"Hey, honey." You sighed, relieved as you sat down on the mattress. "All that farmwork got tiring, huh? I understand. Thank you for doing it."

"........."

"..Shane? You still asleep?"

There was a long silence, only for it to be broken by a quiet sniffle, and your heart sunk, wondering what happened. "Hey, what's wrong-?"

As you put a hand on his shoulder, Shane flinched and rolled over to face you, his eyes red and watery, and his expression full of disgust...as though you did something wrong.

You've never seen him get this angry at you. Not since your first meeting with him. "Baby-?"

"No. Enough petnames, [y/n]." He huffed, sitting up and staring at you with contempt. "You don't get to act like everything's fine. Like I don't know what's really going on."

"...what?"

"Why were you with Alex today? Did he convince you I wasn't good enough for you anymore? That I'm past my prime?"

You blinked in bewilderment, wondering how on earth he knew that and why he was getting so upset. "Wha..you were at the beach? Why didn't you tell me?"

"That's..not important." He grumbled. "If you love him more, fine. Just tell me. I was ready for the day you'd finally get sick of me. But..to do that behind my back...I just..." Fresh tears brimmed his eyes as he clutched the mermaid pendant with a shaky hand. "I thought you were different..but I was wrong."

Now you were totally lost, heart racing as you tried to wrack your brain for any reason he'd assume that you were cheating on him with Alex. You knew he had some major jealousy issues, and he's been actively working through them with his therapist, but it was never this bad.

"Listen, I promise that what you saw isn't what it-"

"You don't have to lie. I get it. He's young, better looking...he's everything I used to be. So why don't I just go and you can have him live on this farm with you? At least he won't be a burden. At least he won't-"

"Shane just stop. Stop." You raised your voice, growing infuriated. "What in the hell made you think I wanna be with Alex when we're married?! When I've been nothing but there for you since I moved to town?! If you let me finish, I'll explain everyth-"

"Oh I'm sure you have a "perfect" explanation already lined up." He rolled his eyes. "Unless you can tell me why you were that close to him, I don't see why I'm even-"

"Today's the anniversary of his mom's death."

Shane blinked once.

Then twice.

Then three times.

"Wha..?"

"She passed away 12 years ago." Frowning slightly, you watched his expression shift wildly. "Alex was sitting there, crying his eyes out, and I just...wanted to comfort him. Like any friend would do. That's all."

At this moment, Shane felt like the biggest piece of shit in the valley, and his shoulders sagged. He didn't know what to say.

"We just hugged, and he told me about the good memories they had," you continued, moving closer to put a hand over his own. "Cross my heart, absolutely nothing was going on between us, honey. You really think I'd do that to you? To the man I love?"

"....I....I didn't know he lost his mom.." He mumbled, still at a loss for words.

"Well it's not exactly something he'd share with the whole town. And I was gonna keep it between us, but you wouldn't let me explain myself." You reminded him with a small huff, and he looked down in guilt.

As quickly as your anger rose, however, it was quick to disappear as you watched him. He seemed very torn up and ashamed for accusing you of cheating, but you could understand his perspective and why he saw it in that light.

You would've been suspicious, too.

"Look..I know it did look like something else was going on. And I'm really sorry-"

"No, no..I should be sorry for acting like a total dickhead." Shane gazed back up at you, and his face tore your heart to shreds. "I didn't mean to freak and accuse you of anything. You were just comforting a kid who lost his mom and...I got angry for no reason. Without hearing your side. I shouldn't be like this..yet I feel like some bitter old man.."

"Hey, you're not old." You shook your head, cupping both sides of his cheeks and giving him a gentle kiss. "You're barely 30."

"Still..my body feels that way." He lightly chuckled, enveloping you in a tight hug. "And again, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, [y/n]...I promise I'm working on these stupid jealousy issues."

"I know you are, and I forgive you." Smiling, you squeezed him tight. "We're gonna be okay."

"Mhm..also..um..I found something for you." He let you go and dug into his jacket pocket for an unknown item, and when he presented it to you, the grin on your face was infectious.

"Oh my god..you found one for me?!!" Your eyes lit up, as you now held a beautiful rainbow shell in your hands.

Shane nodded. "Iridium quality."

"You're the best. I love you." Laughing, you brought him back into a hug, giving him a few more kisses. "And you said you sucked at foraging, huh?"

"Ah, well..just the "chopping trees" part. Picking stuff off the ground is easy." He shrugged, his smile bashful. "Glad you like it, sweetheart. Take it as my apology for that..um..misunderstanding."

"I forgive you a thousand times over. Now..I think I'll display this beauty in our aquarium. What do you think, Shane?"

"I think I'll go with and see."

You both hopped out of bed and headed over to where you kept the aquarium tanks, with Shane in better spirits than he was before.

He still felt guilty for acting that way towards you, but your everlasting patience and persistence with him prevails.

He's glad he picked up that rainbow shell for you.

[the-badger-mole]

Destined

Zuko hated the idea of destiny. It seemed that nothing he actually chose for himself really mattered. Did anyone ask if he wanted to be the Fire Lord to lead the country out of war? Did anyone care? No, it seemed they did not. When he tried to talk to his uncle, he got nowhere. Iroh empathized with his nephew-of course he did- but it was not his destiny to lead the Fire Nation. No, his destiny was a tea shop where he could make small talk with his regulars.

Bitterness got him nowhere, though. Zuko realized that on one level. On another level, he wasn't even twenty yet, and he was already finding grey hairs from the stress. He loved his country. He loved it enough to shudder at the idea of the power vacuum that would form if he should ever abdicate. The throne, he'd realized long ago, was his destiny. Sometimes, destiny felt like a shackle.

Katara felt like a prisoner. She loved Aang. Of course she loved him. She wouldn't be here if she didn't. He'd chosen the Southern Air Temple as their home, and she'd loved being introduced to his culture. Truly she had. But Katara also wished that Aang would be more open to incorporating more of her culture, too. It wasn't like everything the in the Southern Water Tribe had to do with bringing animal products into the home. Katara had given up her warm furs and hearty stews. For the most part. She still partook whenever she was home, which was oftener than Aang liked, but not enough for Katara. She felt like a foreigner in the wide halls of the air temple. Especially since the Acolytes had taken residence.

The Acolytes were a particularly sore point for Katara. The way they fawned over Aang hit the back of her mouth like a bitter melon and made her jaw clench. Aang swore up and down that she didn't need to feel intimidated by them. That once she'd gotten used to the way things worked around the air temple, she would feel much better. And she would get used to it. She had to. It was her destiny to be with Aang forever. He was the the powerful bender she was supposed to end up with. That's what Aang kept reminding her when she brought up how uncomfortable his relationship with some of the Acolytes made her. That's what he said when he failed to stop them from making comments about her being the Avatar's First Girlfriend, or from sticking their noses into her business about the few Southern Tribe artifacts she kept in her own room. So what if they happened to be made of bits of animals? She wasn't going to get rid of the ram seal horn her father and brother painstakingly carved for her, or the fur parka her Gran Gran sewed for her no matter how many disapproving looks she got over them.

"We'll figure it out," Aang often told her. "You and me are destined, so it has to work out."

Destiny felt like a weight. Duty more than inclination steered the ship, but maybe the ship would be better dashed against the rocks and sunk to the ocean floor.

It was completely by accident that they discovered they felt the same way about destiny. Zuko had been looking for a place to hide from the foreign diplomats attempting to corner him into discussions he was far too overwhelmed, and they far too many drinks in to discuss at the opening banquet of the sixth annual Summit. He found Katara had not only discovered his favorite hiding place, but had set up camp with an assortment of grilled meats on a stick- a Fire Nation specialty that had until Zuko's reign been more popular among the populace than the upper class.

"Sorry," Zuko said, already backing out of the secluded balcony.

"For what?" Katara asked. "This is your home. You have more a right to be here than I do." She had a point, Zuko had to admit. Not out loud, but still.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," he told Katara.

"You haven't," she assured him. She gestured to her meal with a rueful smile. "I just didn't want Aang shaking his head at me while I ate. I don't mind having company... Or would you rather not have company?"

"I didn't really want company," Zuko admitted. "Not of most people here. But I wouldn't mind yours." Katara smiled and slid her plate towards him.

"I'm not going to be able to finish all of this on my own," she told him. "My eyes were bigger than my stomach this time." Zuko took a skewer awkwardly and sat beside Katara.

"Is Aang really that bad that you have to eat meat in secret?" he asked half-joking. Katara rolled her eyes.

"Killing animals just to eat is wrong!" she mimicked his preaching tone. "How would you feel if it was Appa or Momo you were being served?"

"Sorry I asked," Zuko chuckled. "I won't tell about your secret meal if you don't tell that I'm hiding from King Kuei."

"Well, he is very intimidating," Katara chuckled.

"You laugh," Zuko said dryly. "Have you ever been cornered by him? The guy can never just get to the point. He has to talk around the issue in circles until I want to scream at him to just spit it out. But I can't do that because I'm the Fire Lord." Zuko scowled off into the distance and took an aggressive bite out of his skewer.

"If it helps," Katara said hesitantly. She cleared her throat. "If it helps, I think you're doing an amazing job."

"Yeah?" Zuko smirked at her. "Glad someone thinks so."

"I'm sure a lot of people think so," Katara insisted. She turned towards him and held his gaze. "Zuko, you're doing an amazing job as Fire Lord. I'm glad it's you who ended up on the throne."

"I know, I know," Zuko scoffed. "It's my destiny."

"No," Katara said slowly. "I think...I think it's more than destiny. I think you were the right person for the job because you chose to be."

"Is that what you think?" Zuko asked, raising his brow at her. Katara nodded firmly.

"What is destiny, anyway?" she asked. She sounded strangely emotional. Zuko eyed her worriedly. Katara held a skewer in a grip so tight, Zuko was worried the stick would snap. But she took a breath and found a wavery smile.

"I think what makes you such a great Fire Lord is the fact that you care," she said. "Maybe it was your destiny to lead the Fire Nation, but it's who you are that makes you so good at it."

"You think so?" Zuko asked. Katara nodded firmly.

"Just because you're destined for something doesn't necessarily mean it's supposed to be something good. I think..." Katara frowned and thought for a moment. "I think maybe someone's destiny isn't supposed to be good. After all, it seems like Ozai was destined to be Fire Lord. At least for a little while. Even the war must have been destined. So if destiny can be good or bad, then maybe it's up to us to decide which it's going to be."

Zuko had the distinct feeling that Katara wasn't just talking about his destiny as Fire Lord. This felt more personal. This felt like a moment for him to say something profound. He had nothing.

"Not everything is destiny," he tried, hoping that he could help her with whatever it was that had made her so morose.

"How do you know which is which, then?" Katara asked. Zuko shrugged. He leaned back against the wall and looked up at the stars.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe...maybe trying to identify destiny is a mistake. Maybe...it's more important to try to do what's right. Even when it's hard."

"But how do I know what's right?" Katara huffed, and leaned back against the wall beside Zuko.

"i don't really know." Zuko chewed his lip pensively. "When Uncle told me he wouldn't take the throne, I thought it was a huge mistake. I thought he was the best fit for it. After all, of the two of us, he was actually groomed for the part. But after I took the throne....? I don't know...It didn't feel right immediately. It still doesn't feel right to me sometimes, but I did it. At the time, I resented uncle for not at least taking the throne until I was of age, but now that I've been Fire Lord for a few years, I get it. Uncle...he is a good man, but he did some terrible things. He's tried to make up for it, but it was never going to be enough. Not enough to expect everyone to be comfortable with him on the throne. I get it now. I think me taking the throne was the right thing to do. It has been hard. It's been lonely, too. But it was the best call either of us could make.

"But you didn't know it was right when you did it," Katara pointed out.

"No," Zuko tapped his finger thoughtfully on the flagstone. "I don't think I was completely sure that I was the best fit for Fire Lord. I still think Uncle would've been the better choice, history aside. I think there are a lot of much smarter people who probably deserve to be here instead of me. But I also know that there wasn't anyone who had a shot at taking the throne who would care about reparations to the other countries, or about rebuilding for the lower classes. I love my people, Katara, and I think...I think that helped me figure out what I needed to do, even if I don't always like it. I almost never like it."

Katara blinked hard against the tears that had suddenly sprang up in her eyes. She reached out for his and squeezed it tight. She knew how hard leading was for Zuko at times. He did it gracefully, though. He did it fairly, and she could see the progress the Fire Nation had made under him. It wasn't perfect by any means, but it was substantial. If only she could feel that, at least. If only her destiny could make her feel half so accomplished.

"I wish I didn't know what my destiny was," she sighed. "Maybe if I felt like I had even as much choice as you have, I'd feel better." Zuko shot her a strange look. He had so many questions, but none of them felt appropriate. Instead he sighed and scooted closer to Katara.

"Maybe you need to focus less on what you think your destiny is and focus more on what you feel is right," he said. "I know you. Your sense of right and wrong is...well, it's unshakeable. I trust your judgement, even if you don't. If you were making the right choices, you wouldn't feel this conflicted. Even if your choice made you uncomfortable, if you thought it was the right one...well, you wouldn't be on a balcony alone eating secret yakitori." Zuko held up a skewer and waved it at Katara. She laughed and pushed his hand away.

"What if I make a choice and it's the wrong one?" Katara asked.

"I don't see that happening," Zuko said, grinning at her. "But even if you do make a mistake, I think you're smart enough to fix it. I'd help you, if you wanted. And so would Sokka and the Chief. So would all of us." Katara flinched at that. Zuko pretended not to notice.

"What would you do if you didn't know your destiny?" he asked. Katara sat quietly for a long while, looking thoughtfully across the garden below. She absently ran her thumb over Zuko's fingers.

"I think ...I think I'd like to go back to the Northern Tribe," she said. "To finish learning healing from Yugoda. Then I'd like to go the Foggy Swamp and learn swampbending. Then I'd like to find every copy of Southern style bending scrolls I could get my hands on and learn that, too."

"Then you should!" Zuko insisted. "Do that. I'll help when I can. My grandfather kept things from every nation he could. I'm having everything organized and sent back to where they came from. I'm working on the Earth Kingdom now, but I don't have anyone to help sort through all the Water Tribe artifacts. The job is yours, if you want it.

"Are you serious?" Katara gasped. Zuko nodded with a grin.

"I was planning to ask your father to recommend someone soon," he told Katara. "Maybe it's your destiny to do that, for whatever it's worth. I mean, it's an important job, but it's not a long one. Maybe six months to a year. But maybe it'll give you a chance to think about what you want. What you think it the right thing for you to do."

Katara considered his offer for a moment. Her initial reaction was to insist that she couldn't do that. That Aang needed her. But she bit her tongue and thought. What did Aang need her for? She cooked his meals, kept the Air Temple tidy, and kept his diary for him. It was important to keep the Avatar on task, but was it right? Was it right for her?

Soon, all the points in favor of it presented themselves. Sure keeping the Avatar on track was important, but reclaiming all of the Southern style bending she could? Learning everything she could about waterbending? The thought made her heart ache with a longing she'd almost forgotten how to feel. If Aang really was her destiny, he'd understand why she wanted to do this. After all, he was also working to reclaim Air Nomad culture.

It was tempting.

It was tempting.

It was...

"I think..." Katara said slowly. She cleared her throat again and turned to Zuko. "I think I'll do that."

"Really?" Zuko's face lit up.

"Really," Katara said, nodding once sharply. Then she smirked at Zuko. "You're going to get sick of having me around."

"Never that," he swore. "Never, ever that."

[mothwingwritings]

Animal Magnetism

F!Reader X Yujiro Hanma (Omegaverse AU)

Well folks, here is my first ever attempt at a true Omegaverse fic. I wanted to start out with something little to get a feel for it, but since I don’t know how to chill it ended up being a bit longer than anticipated. ^^; I’m still getting the hang of it all, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! Thank you so much for reading!!!

Also, I have a rather busy end of May-June coming up, so I’m not sure how much I will be able to write and update during that time. I apologize in advance. That being said, I wrote this pretty fast and edited it even faster so that I could get it out before I get swamped, so I apologize if it reads a bit rushed. (シ_ _)シ

THIS FIC IS NSFW, SO 18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

WARNINGS: Noncon/dubcon, yandere vibes, ABO/Omegaverse AU (reader is the omega ofc), death, strangulation, brief mentions of stalking, reader is degraded and treated like an object by Yujiro Hanma. You know how it is. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

You considered yourself lucky to have found the love of your life.

That wasn’t always the case for Omegas. Since your childhood, you’d heard countless horror stories from your parents and friends, tragedies and cautionary tales of the horrors Omega’s faced when looking for a mate. Many of your kind faced dismal futures as breeding factories or were forgotten and neglected by their partners whenever they weren’t in heat. It was a lonely, painful, and unfulfilling existence, but a sad reality that many Omega’s endured nonetheless.

Because of this your parents sheltered you, doing their best to keep you from the cruel power imbalance of the outside world. Your father made sure he was the only alpha allowed near you on the property, the rest of your friends and acquaintances consisting of either other Omega’s or Beta’s. Not that you much minded, after all the negativity you heard surrounding Alpha’s you figured this was for the best. You weren’t missing out on anything, and as long as you took your suppressors accordingly, you were sure you could live out the rest of your life just fine without Alpha influence and still feel completely fulfilled.

That was to say, until a certain bodyguard was hired as the family escort, specifically YOUR escort. You had heard he was an Alpha and were quite shocked that your father would allow such a person so close to you, especially with all his previous warnings. But as time passed and your curiosity grew, you would eventually introduce yourself to the man of your own accord, excited and nervous to see what manner of individual he truly was. At the time, you would have never ended up guessing that one meeting would end up turning your entire world on its head, bringing more joy to your life than you could have ever imagined.

You were smitten the moment your hands joined in the initial shake, taken in by his easy smile and sparkling eyes. He had respectfully kept his distance from you at your father’s request, but you could tell he was elated to finally speak with you, a small blush gracing his cheeks as soon as you said ‘hello’. He was a kindly man, mild mannered and soft spoken, but strong where it mattered and protective to a fault. Were it not for the unmistakable scent that exuded from him, you wouldn’t guess he was an Alpha at all, or at least he certainly didn’t fit the description of most of the Alpha’s your father warned you about-all full of machismo and brutality, ready at a moment’s notice to tear you apart to satisfy their own base urges.

This man was the opposite of that, and when you fell for him, you fell hard.

Years past in a whirlwind, from the initial awkward first dates, to buying your own place together, to his heartfelt proposal to you. Through it all he always remained respectful, giving you all the space and time you needed to adjust to your life with him, never pushing his boundaries or showing any untoward aggression or advances.  Because of this, even after spending years together, you were able to remain pure, saving yourself for the day the two of you would join as one, marking each other to truly solidify your union.

And so time marched on, moving so fast that on more than one occasion you wished you could stop the clock altogether, just to steal a few more moments with him.

But now, you would never enjoy his company ever again.

His corpse had been tossed aside, discarded several feet from where you lay. It was so bloodied and broken you could barely recognize it as human, let alone as someone you once loved. Your chest rose and fell with erratic breaths punctuated by fear, the desire welling inside of you momentarily quelled by this sudden nightmare.

Minutes ago he was atop you, peeling the clothing from your aching, hot body. Moving painfully slow, he took his time enjoying your first heat with him, no longer constrained by the suppressors you had taken your whole life. You were scared of the process, worried about losing control of yourself and becoming mindless, driven by only your base needs. Not to mention the pain it would entail, the endless torture of emptiness, and the desperation you would experience relying solely on him for release from your torment.

But he had been patient and understanding through the whole process, explaining how it would all go down and how he would help you through it, alleviating any rogue fears that still remained. He even went so far as to help you prepare your nest, purchasing you any and everything you may need to make it comforting and inviting for when the time finally arrived. Meticulously helping you arrange everything while gushing about how excited he was, how lucky he felt having you as his mate, the one he would be eternally bonded too. He seemed more into the prep work than even you did.

Now, the nest that was to be used to consummate your love was stained in crimson, his blood splashing across it in vibrant streaks the moment he was knocked off you, flung across the room like a rag doll. No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the lifeless body that used to be your beloved. Everything that had made him shine had been stolen in the blink of an eye, leaving only a husk remaining.

Above him stood his murderer, Yujiro Hanma, looming with a bestial sort of feral energy as he stared at the carcass by his feet.  Before this moment, you had never interacted with the man they called ‘The Ogre’, but that didn’t mean you didn’t know all about him. It was hard not to-the strongest man in the world was a celebrity in his own right, renowned the world over for his ferocity and ruthless nature. He had started and ended wars by simply existing, going wherever he pleased and doing whatever he wanted because there was no one who could stop him. He ruled countries from the shadows, amassed wealth and respect from the most influential men in the world. Truly, he was not a person to be reckoned with.

All that aside, you knew him best as the man your father despised the most. A once respected comrade from your father’s military days, you were aware that Yujiro had done something unspeakable to your father in the past, therefore disgracing him from your entire family. Your father had always been an amicable and fair man, someone that you couldn’t imagine having any enemies (even with his military background), let alone ones that used to be dear friends. And while the mystery of what Yujiro may have done to your father to receive this treatment gnawed incessantly at your brain, you kept your questions to yourself, not wanting to open any old wounds that may hurt him in the process.

Now you wished you had pressed the issue more, maybe then you would have a clue as to why this mythical family villain had abruptly entered the scene, irrevocably changing your life in the process.

The slaughter happened so quickly that Yujiro didn’t even break a sweat. Not that he would have anyway-the differences in ability were clear as day, you didn’t need any fighting prowess to realize that. Your mate never stood a chance.

The ogre’s fiery hair danced wildly around his head like a halo as he turned his attention your way, his figure both terrifying and awe inspiring as he took his time stalking towards your vulnerable form. There was no need for him to rush- the power of his presence alone was enough to root you in place.

Splayed out in your nest, you were completely exposed. Your nude chest heaving as a thin layer of sweat coated you, anxiety and confusion mingling with the raging heat your body was going through. Even after watching the execution of your mate before your very eyes, your body was still yearning, causing a horrible, all-encompassing burning that scalded you from the inside out. It made you desperate for release as your mate was in the process of marking you, taking his time exploring the body of the woman with whom he was destined to spend the rest of his life with before carrying out the duty.

And while his drawn out advance was driving you to the point of madness, amplifying the throbbing ache in your core with each teasing touch of his hands and sensual kiss of his lips, you knew the sluggish pace was for your benefit-to prepare you properly. It was your first time, the start of your forever with him. He wanted to make it special, for your pleasure to be immeasurable when he finally entered you, making you feel so good that when he bit down to mark you as his, the pain would be nothing in comparison, if felt at all. You had a life time of love ahead of you, but that was no excuse for him to give in to his desire and rush your first union.

But he was gone now, and his kindness had left you feverish and wanting-so desperately wanting- release. Craving your alpha, needing him so badly you could barely stand it, you writhed pathetically on the ground, whimpering in agony at the absence of fulfillment. Unable to control yourself, your hand traveled to your privates, tears flooding your eyes when stuffing your fingers deep inside of yourself only seemed to hurt you more. It was hollow and empty, not what you needed, not what you craved.

Were you in your normal mindset, revulsion would have washed over you at your actions-the love of your life had just been slain and here you were making a sorry attempt at masturbation while his body lay decomposing beside you. What kind of woman does that? How could you live with yourself after this? How could you tell yourself you truly love him, when now that he’s gone the only feeling your addled brain can conjure is disappointment over the fact that you won’t get the fucking you have become so desperate for?

How had you become so disgusting? You lightly shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts of self-loathing. Perhaps the blame did not lie fully on your shoulders, but to another culprit, one who was stalking his way closer and closer to you with each passing moment, hunting you as a wolf does livestock.

In any other scenario, this heart-rending moment would have been enough to crack the shell of haze your heat had left you in, no matter how worked up you had become. But the man who was now standing above you, Yujiro Hanma, was dangerous in ways you hadn’t even begun to fathom. His smell of his musk was so overbearing you nearly choked on it, the lust it sent coursing through your body turning you into something unrecognizable. You honed in on Yujiros scent long before his arrival, at first mistaking it for your own mate’s scent that had been amplified by your combined heats. And while it disgusted you to admit it, this new, intoxicating scent excited you far more than your own lover’s ever had, turning your mind to mush the longer you inhaled its aroma.

Yujiro’s cruel eyes bore down upon you, a look of mild amusement displayed on his face as he took in your weakened state. The smirk he wore as he killed your lover began to grow, his lips spreading into a full on smile, baring his teeth in a look that could only be considered as malicious.

“Well what do we have here,” he leered, the mere sound of his husky voice enough to make you moan, “Feeling a bit neglected, are we?”

He bent down on his knee, kneeling beside you as his eyes flicked across your body. After a brief once over, his large hand reached out towards your head, thick fingers knotting themselves into a fist as they gripped your hair. Roughly he yanked you up, dangling you mere inches from his face as he continued to stare at you with his horrible, ravenous eyes.

You scrambled to get your bearings, perching yourself on your knees to help alleviate the pressure on your scalp. Positioned so closely to him, his pheromones became even more intense, slick starting to seep from inside you from the proximity alone. Bright red bloomed across your body, a mixture of extreme arousal and embarrassment, as you wriggled in his hold.

Yujiro scoffed, “Look at you, I haven’t even touched you and you’re already leaking,” He swiped his fingers briskly against your weeping pussy, making you cry out as he gathered the evidence of your intoxication on his hand. Holding the glistening fingers up to your face, his smile returned as he goaded you.  “Bet your little boyfriend lacked the power to make that happen, didn’t he?”

Any anger that may have welled inside you over the slight against your beloved was instantly quelled, eaten by the tumultuous feeling of frustration the situation ensnared you in. All you could do was stare at Yujiro with pleading eyes, any words you attempted to speak dying out the moment you tried to voice them, becoming little more than whiny, petulant mewlings. Rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to create friction, you prayed he would show an ounce of mercy and grant you release soon, fretting over how much longer your body could handle waiting.

Yujiro sighed, chuckling softly under his breath, “Your father is a damned fool, you know that? I told that stubborn bastard that his cute little Omega daughter was meant to be mine, knew it the moment I saw you. I warned him that he could try and pair you off with some other lesser Alpha, but it would be a waste of time. You were fated to be mine- made to take my cock. Trying to make you anything other than my bitch was both asinine and disgraceful.”

He shot you another wicked smile, “Idiots like him may not realize what a fucking honor it is to be my cumdump, but surely you do, right sweetheart?”

You squeaked as he tugged you closer, his breath fanning your face while he stared down his nose at you, “Or maybe you don’t, given the situation I found you in. Looks like my ravenous little whore just couldn’t contain herself, could she?”

His lips curled into a snarl, his booming voice reverberating through your bones as he continued to address your misdemeanor. “Nesting with some weak piece of shit like that, have you no pride in yourself? I’m embarrassed you even gave him the time of day, let alone bared yourself to him. Who do you think you are, trying to fuck basic trash when you belong to me?”

Without giving you a chance to respond, he released his grip on your hair, shoving you roughly to the ground in the process. Hearing him move behind you, you attempted to push your feeble body into a sitting position, trying to reacclimate yourself. However before you could achieve this simple goal, his hand latched to the back of your head, shoving it down until it was smothered in the soft blankets beneath you. His free hand yanked your legs out from under you, pulling your ass up in the process. Though you couldn’t see him, the power radiating from him was immense, his aura so domineering you felt as if it alone was steadily crushing you. Were you in any sane frame of mind you would fear for your life, struggle and fight against the oppressive hardness that slotted itself against your dripping entrance.

But the slave you had become welcomed the intrusion, and as he tightened his hold on you, growling in your ear like the wild animal he had proved himself to be, you couldn’t stop your body from shuddering in anticipation of what was to come.

“It’s time for some corrective action.”

He entered you violently, his thick cock impossibly hot as he sheathed himself inside of you. The initial pain tore a scream from your throat, your vision dotting as you felt blood trail steadily down your shaking legs. He gave you no time to adjust, continuing his brutal assault as he pounded into you, uncaring of the damage he was inflicting upon you. The smack of his skin against your was punctuated by your cries, at first full of pain, but slowly morphing into expulsions of pleasure.

When the abruptness of his entrance fully subsided, you began to focus on the feel of him inside of you. Each slam of his hips ignited you, creating a feverish frenzy within that blocked out all other sensations and judgment. He filled you so completely, easily reaching all the spots that your fingers tried so desperately to reach just moments ago, satisfying all the areas that had been so urgently in need of attention with each stroke of his cock. You wanted more, needed more, moving in time with him as you chased after your pleasure. Wanton moans spilled from your lips, muffled by the bedding that was being shoved into your mouth with each thrust.

Even in the uncomfortable position he had locked you in, unable to breathe properly or escape from his grasp, all you could find yourself caring about was the alpha behind you and how he was making you feel- a strange sense of pride bubbled inside you the longer he went at you. The most powerful man in the world was doing little more than using you, and yet it was the fact that he chose you to begin with that filled you with flattery. A nobody like you being sought out by an alpha like him... Isn’t that what all Omegas dreamed of? To be desired by a dominant Alpha, having the honor of bringing them pleasure and receiving pleasure in turn, wasn’t that your only purpose, your reason for being?

You never dreamed you would feel that way before, but now you were finally starting to understand. The delirium of your desire had launched you into a state of inescapable euphoria, rebirthing you as nothing more than a shell of a woman who had finally realized her purpose, completely giving herself over to her unquenchable cravings while her Alpha’s assault molded her destiny.

Yujiro was a monster. Any man who did what they had done to the love of your life, any man whom your father had hated to the point of excommunication, any man who would violate you in such a way without so much as batting an eye, was an abomination-the remaining rational part of your mind understood this.

Yet as this demon, deserving of nothing but your scorn and hatred, spilled himself inside of you all you could feel was thankful. Thankful that the ungodly heat was starting to subside, happy that the pain the experience had brought you was alleviated, and blissed out over the feel of him nestled deeply inside of you, convulsing as the twitch of his cumming cock rained pleasure down upon you.

Finally, you felt complete.

After pumping you full of his hefty load, he hoisted you up in his arms, repositioning you so that you were facing him, straddling his lap. Gasping the moment you gained access to fresh air, a distressed groan croaked from your throat as his incisors latched to your neck, sinking deep into your scent gland. Your body shuddered at the sensation, fresh waves of pain and rapture coursing through you as he marked you decisively as his.

The cock that was still stuffed inside of you remained rigid, showing no signs of softening as your walls fluttered around it, the next round of your heat coming far sooner than you had anticipated. His hand wrapped securely around your throat, replacing where his lips had just been. He clamped down hard, pain pulsating from the open wound your scent gland had become, struggling once more to breath. His other hand grasped your hip, both limbs working in unison to bounce you on his dick-using you as if you were a human fleshlight.

“Don’t forget your place again,” he grunted, pulling you down on his cock so harshly, you saw stars, “You’re mine now.”