#justice for silver please

[lymooniee]

Silver being left out for the 92919383819203923th time pains me why the hell does he have like only 3 games he's truly been in ?? And others he's just a playable character for multi-player mode or he's barely in it at all. Justice for silver please he deserves so much better!! Like no shows with him in it at all either? It confuses me so much.

[story-weavr]

Alternative Backstories

The Flash Family

In 1940, young college student Jay Garrick became The Flash. He and his comrades in The Justice Society of America fought not only international threats but also enemies close to home. For the young Flash, that included the likes of The Rival (Edward Clariss) and the Fiddler.

During the Red Scare, the JSA were forced to disband and go into hiding. Jay Garrick and his wife Joan changed their names Henry and Nora Allen and moved to Keystone City, a part of Greater Central City.

For a time, they lived in peace, growing a family together. One day, however, the past came back with a vengeance.

In the past, there once was a boy named Eobard Thawne. He was a smart boy who had a hard life. The only thing that really brought him joy was The Flash.

One day, he managed to get his hands on The Rival’s Velocity 9 formula. Eobard, the smart boy he was, managed to make it better.

After becoming a speedster, Eobard dubbed himself Zoom and quickly raced off to be with his idol.

At first amused and worried for the young man, Jay as The Flash took him under his wing. Unfortunately, it became clear the young speedster didn’t truly understand what it meant to be a hero. His brutality and selfishness forced Jay to defeat him.

Angry and hurt from the betrayal, Zoom managed to flee, faking his own death to avoid getting hunted down by the JSA.

Furious at his mentor, Eobard swore to ruin Jay’s life. Hence, Theobard Thawne became the Reverse-Flash.

For a time, Reverse-Flash focused on strengthening his powers as well as hunt down all information related to The Flash.

Finally he was ready.

Using the Speed Force to both slow down his own aging and to time travel, Reverse-Flash killed Nora. Then using little Barry’s life as blackmail, he threatened Henry to take the blame for his wife’s death and to stay in jail.

While waiting for young Barry to become the Flash, Reverse Flash increased his powers and connections. He created an identity as Professor Thawne at the little known Flash museum.

He would go on to act as both Barry’s mentor and mysterious foe until his deceit was uncovered.

[sunshineofmoon]

ok, just because I went to re-read acomaf and acowar and realized something important: canonically, Bone Carver says that in the ancient black castle of Stryga, she had several mirrors (including the uroboros) and spent hours admiring and bragging about her youth and beauty… But what would be the problem with that?

Simple, Stryga is blind.

canonically, I mean.

in the first meeting between Feyre and the weaver, and the first time she appears, Rhysand tells that she is blind, therefore her other istines are mortal and enhanced. I even think that maybe the fact that his eyes are completely black has something to do with it; maybe she is blind because of her black eyes, or maybe her eyes are that color because she is blind.

what I mean is that it's likely she wasn't always like that. how did she spend hours admiring herself when she was blind? and no, I don't believe – and it doesn't make much sense – that her blindness doesn't work on her own appearance in front of mirrors.

what led me to think and theorize; the Fae warrior the Carver so fondly cites, it was she who imprisoned Stryga and her older brother, Koschei. confining the Weaver (who probably wasn't the weaver at the time, but never mind) in the Middle, what if... Did she do something with her eyes too?

in my fanfics, I imagine this warrior imprisoning her and saying something about "the Stryga enjoying her own company so much that now she would have to stay with her for the rest of her life". And the Carver mentioned that her brothers were so powerful, that the fae couldn't kill them, just trapped them... What if the stryga eyes had some kind of power? not like Medusa, no. but they were a source of power, and that's why the fae blinded her?

it just makes me think that sarah should have developed these creatures better...

[mellowwillowy]

TWST x Self-aware Yan Cannibal AU Ft: Unhinged GN Reader

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥

Unbirthday party has always been a merry occasion for 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥. Not only does he get to eat the strawberry tarts, but he also gets to have Trey's meat pie specialty.

Pigs who dared to enrage the tyrant by upsetting you, the law, are sent to the kitchen for the butcher and baker to process into something edible.

The card soldiers cheer in joy and anxiety, pleased to be able to taste the main course yet sweating over the idea of screwing up and ending up on the silver platter.

Yet part of them does not really mind if it's meant that they will be devoured by you, the law, their grace. Ace and Deuce have always irked Riddle but the sight of you smiling along with their pranks and mischiefs save them from the trouble they are about to face.

Cater will always upload it on magicam, boasting the sight of you enjoying your stay in 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥 as you nibble on the tart. Baked and minced to your favorite, as usual. Trey and Cater sure know their way around this, memorizing how you like it by heart.

--

"Looks like you two are having a hard time cleaning the guillotine huh?" You stopped in front of the guillotine, watching the other students along with the ADeuce duo wiping the blade that had severed yet another pig for you to feast on soon.

"Uh yeah, troublesome as always, I hate having this bloody mess all over my hands." Deuce furrowed his eyebrows, waving his hands for you to see. Ace immediately elbowed Deuce, "Dude, you are splattering the blood all over me!"

You chuckled at the duo before turning back your focus on Riddle and his chaperones, "I assure you, those blood does taste good too if you know your way around it."

Trey and Cater raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other, seemingly knowing what they would present for you at the next Unbirthday party.

"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to have your Grace have a taste of it at our next tea party."

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰

It's only natural to see the beasts ripping the guts out of the prey with their bare fangs. 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 surely offers an entirely different vibe when it comes to banquets.

Until Leona signals them, the beasts are nothing but starving predators, ready to shred the prey into minced meat. But Leona is nothing but a calm and obedient beast when it comes to you, eagerly waiting for you to give him the accord.

One tilt of your head and a nod is all it takes for Leona to snap his fingers, the chosen beasts leaping toward the prey eagerly as their claws and fangs tore them apart.

Jack was the fiercest among the others, even more than his seniors. For someone who held an upright moral integrity, he had it revolved around you and all sense of justice had been laid onto the tip of your tongue.

Ruggie on the other hand only watched in amusement next to Leona, waiting for the next batch of captured prey to be feasted by him. He would not cut line and steal a bite of what's not given to him from you, oh nooo, he was a patient hyena.

Leona cocked his head to you, eyes focused on you while waiting for you to lock your eyes with his, "Should I grab one for you to eat too, your Grace?"

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞

Mostro Lounge has always offered the best dining experience. It is not to be doubted again that 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 is most definitely going to serve you the finest meal, personally handled and cooked by the Tweels.

And of course, those who fail to fulfill the terms of Azul's contract have to feel how the merfolks gut them, spilling their whole innards all over as they choose which part is considered the most delectable for you.

From the sophisticated look of the beverage, tinted dark red yet a hue of purple could be seen, giving it a pleasingly aesthetic look for you to fawn over before you drink it down.

On the silver platter was a heart, decorated with things you had no idea about but you had seen back in your world. Fancy diners always do that, you thought to yourself.

"Only the best part for your Grace." Jade bowed down as he adjusted the plate and utensils. Floyd was grinning from ear to ear as he dusted the sugar cube into your drink, "And something refreshingly sweet for ya' highness!"

You gave them a curt nod before slicing it, Floyd kneeling down next to you while his face rested on your chair's armrest, eyes glimmering in excitement as he waited for your feedback. Jade might not show it in his face but even you could notice how his feet tapped against the carpeted tile, something you'd never see from someone who could stand still for hours without moving like an inanimate object.

You gave them an approving nod and smile as you took a sip from the drink Floyd personally went over length to make for you, "Satisfactory as usual."

A pair of hands clasped on your shoulders from behind, Azul cooed right into your ear "But your Grace, surely it can go beyond that no? We'll make sure of that the next time you choose to feast here."

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐚

Banquet has always been something that is always happening due to Kalim's nature and Jamil has never really found any joy from it.

But all that changes if the banquet is thrown for you. Oh, how the viper ensures himself to go beyond length in preparing the dishes. With Kalim's endless riches, he can use all sorts of ingredients one would never be able to obtain without spending a fortune for their rarity. Only the freshest and best ingredients are allowed to be used for your meal and so are the living meat of the students.

Everything must be set to a T. Kalim may not be a tyrant but when it comes to you? He's unconsciously pointing his fingers and brows scrunched at anything that is not abided by perfection. The lamps are not hung at the right angle, the pillows have not been changed into new pillows and the animals must be paraded in order and not roam like wild beasts. Anyone who just ever makes the slightest mistake will be sent straight to the kitchen as an ingredient. Had it not been for Jamil's suggestion to send them all bruiseless, they would have been beaten until they were nothing but pulp.

You were taking in the sight of the parade, everything was as amusing as you had always remembered. But the true highlight lay in Jamil's cooking, if you have to pinpoint the best cook in this twisted wonderland then it had to be Jamil. Unlike the finery of Mostro Longue, Jamil's cooking had a different feel to it. It was not as aesthetic yet it did not change the fact that it still looked pleasantly delicious. If Mostro Lounge accounted for the positioning of the food in a numerical and angle way, Jamil offered everything in a neat bulk. Curry, prata, shawarma, and all. Its display screamed for people to grab one yet no one dared to unless you ordered them to do so.

You cocked your head toward Kalim who was sitting right next to you, eyes glimmering in adoration as he drunk in your expression. Oh, would you finally like to have a bite? He held one of the shawarma out toward you with an empty plate in his other hand.

Jamil had ensured that there were 2 different platters, one for you which was made from the best ingredients and seasonings, while the other was less if compared to yours but still delicious nonetheless. One was made from meat and blood that had been considered the best while the other was made from those that failed to pass through the requirements.

You took a bite from his hand, savoring the taste of Jamil's hard work while enjoying the show of Kalim's tyranny. Truly, you love being able to taint your beloved sunshine.

"Say say, are you enjoying it all, your Grace? Not even a beat of music missed and all the food that sprawled across the room is ensured to be of the best quality." Kalim brought a goblet onto you and you held it in your hand. He gave you another grin that was just as blinding as the sun, his finger beckoned Jamil to pour you the carmine drink, squeezed from their cries of agony and pain before they were minced.

"But of course, your Grace has no need to hesitate to point something out if it's not to your liking," Jamil chimed in as he watched you swirl your goblet. The two of them stared right into your eyes, eyes enchanted by you despite one being an enchanter, "Because we seek only perfection for your Grace's taste."

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 prides themselves in their pitch-perfect diet. So what if their Grace has a different taste in the feast? All they have to do is readjust and tailor the whole dorm's diet to yours.

The fairest one of all, wearing a tiara that shines even brighter than any tiaras Vil has ever seen, truly living up to the radiance you emit just from sitting on the very throne with him standing right next to you.

It appeared that preparing a banquet was a huge feat for 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 as they were divided into 2 teams. Team One prepared the whole occasion while Team Two flocked toward you, amusing you with a theatric show as you watched them from your throne.

It appeared that Rook's fascination with the world of theatrics and you worked really well as he 'acted' out the role of a lover professing his love toward the protagonist really well. Strings of bizarre praises and wishes rolled from the tip of his tongue smoothly as though it was by nature for him to act so already.

Epel on the other hand was all energized to drag the qualified livestock into the kitchen after Vil had inspected them all personally. The livestock was to be of a healthy diet, bruiseless and ailment-free before it was allowed to be cooked and feasted by the Grace.

The moment Rook was notified that the whole banquet was ready, a trumpet was blown and you were led to the dining hall which had been decorated to match your attire. Were you wearing something cute, pure, sexy, cool, or pop? Either way, 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 never missed a beat in losing its elegance no matter what the theme was.

"Allow me," Rook pulled the chair for you to sit on before he readjusted the platter asymmetrically. Right next to your seat on the right was Vil sitting while the rest of the body stood, not daring to sit unless you allowed them to.

Seeing Epel all giddy observing you, you beckoned him to come to you and he whispered into your ear, "I seasoned it!"

You cocked a questioning eyebrow toward Vil and he could only sigh with a chuckle, "Oh what will I do with your Grace's taste bud?"

Rook poured a carmine red fluid into your glass, its smell told you that it was not made just from a fine wine but rather, a fine blood.

"A fine cocktail of white wine, dyed with a carmine golden drop, hand-picked and squeezed personally by me. Truly, your favorite, your Grace."

𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞

Honestly, what do you even expect from all these anti-socials? They are nothing but a bunch of hikikomori yet the Shroud Brothers just know how to surprise you!

Unlike the impractical methods that the others use to earn just a golden drop of blood from the livestock, the dorm has created countless practical devices that help them to create something quickly.

Compressors that grind down the gutless livestock into a fine drink. Shredders that allow them to save time from having to shred from chunk by chunk. And a practical inspection device that helps Idia sort out the best for you to feast on.

Ortho had to be the most eager one of all, singing non-stop as he ensured all were to be finished quickly when you informed him that you would be choosing 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 for your next banquet.

They specialized in efficiency and speed but that did not mean they lacked the skill of cooking a delicious dish. While it may be pale when compared to other dorms, 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 is a great option for when you are craving for something and want it to be on your plate in a short moment. They might not score 12/10 but they were able to at the very least score 8/10. Surprised much? Ortho had been practicing how to cook and all from the data Idia inputted into him.

"Uurgh.. uhh... y-your Grace... so what is the verdict? A level up? Or an increase in the ranking board? O-Ortho is really expecting your answer..."

You raised your eyebrows at his stuttering, "Getting better," you stopped for a moment to chew again, "and delicious."

Ortho immediately leaped toward you from Idia's back, causing him to squeak, his metal arms wrapped around your neck, "I'm glad! Please keep on coming here and I'll make sure to be the best cook you'll ever have!"

Idia brought a napkin over to your face, "Yes... should your Grace ever need for a quick meal, please come by... Me and Ortho... and Ortho... will always be ready at your disposal."

But who were you but the all-knowing God, you knew there was a slight taint of blot in your meal, Ortho, you assumed.

𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚

Lilia has to stay away from the kitchen. But don't worry, the bat is entrusted with hunting down livestock for the youngsters to process into something edible.

Malleus on the other hand is ready to strike anyone down with lightning should they make the slightest mistake in the banquet preparation.

Sebek is in charge of inspecting the livestock while Silver is in charge of the most gruesome part of the job (which was appointed by you for fun.) which is gutting. Surely tainting someone so pure like him has to be your favorite feast.

The candles on the table were all lit in emerald hue, fireflies surrounded you as Lilia levitated around you, joyously guiding you toward the dining table.

There you could see Malleus sitting on the second host seat, his hand prompts you to take a seat across from him. Lilia pulled the chair for you to sit before Silver walked out of nowhere, holding a plate of dishes for you to feast on.

Sebek on the other hand had been arranged to stand right next to Malleus, part of him was happy yet part of him envied Silver. Nonetheless, no barks had ever slipped past through his sealed lip.

"Kukuku, the boys went through great details and length in preparing this whole banquet, well, me included. It was fun hunting down these livestock for you," His index finger felt your platter, "it makes me feel like I must pick the ripest for you... feeding you... aa~"

Soon, he brought a forkful of meat sliced by SIlver earlier while you were distracted by Lilia. Malleus smiled at your dazed-out face and the way realization washed over you.

"May your Grace enjoy the blessing that you have graced us tonight." Malleus raised his goblet, urging you to do just the same.

"Cheers!" Lilia wiped your mouth with the napkin, Silver's hand holding out your filled goblet.

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲 ???

"My words! Did you have fun, hm?" Crowley immediately lunged toward you the moment you entered his office. He gave you the cutest pout you could ever see from him, his cheek rubbed against yours repeatedly.

"Are you jealous, Dire?"

"Of course not! How can someone as magnanimous as I, be jealous of my own fledglings?" And as though to prove to you his seriousness, he even posed ridiculously with his staff.

You cackled at him before giving him a kiss on his cheek, "I'm home, Dire."

Crowley stopped acting up and turned serene, giving you a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes.

"Welcome home, Master. Dinner's ready as usual."

Oh old times... ???

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

j word coded

TO BE CLEAR: I am NOT claiming that this other game (Ikemen Villains) is a "rip-off" of TWST; I'm pointing out parallels between them because I think it's entertaining to see how different games interpret the same or similar fairy tales.

Please also note that although nothing I say in this post is explicit, IkeVil itself is designated as 17+ and contains dark content. If you decide you want to try the game out for yourself, BE AWARE OF THE AGE RATING AND TRIGGER WARNINGS.

ARE THESE NOT JUST J WORD IN A BLACK WIG AND CONTACTS (the last one looks like a blend of Jade's sus face + Idia's sus face) 😭 His face looks so similar… and they're both "attendant" characters that act polite but are more manipulative than they appear at first glance... (although Alfons has Floyd's hedonism rather that Jade's restraint!)

More of my first impressions of the characters of IkeVil below the cut!! Again, there's nothing explicit, I just wanted to keep this post not too bulky.

And not just him (Alfons) either, ashldbiasydefpaei there's a Trey-lookalike and a Silver pre-hair color change in the same game! Roger has a rifle and is cursed by Snow White's huntsman, so I joke that he's Rook and Trey's test tube baby... and Elbert has Vil's keen eye and desire for what is beautiful!

There are also characters that don't look like an TWST ones, but definitely have personalities that remind me of a few! For example, Liam's laid-back affability is Che'nya and Chenya Cater-esque, Jude speaks in a gruff but aristocratic manner like Leona but is a tough businessman like Azul, and Ellis seems like a mix of Malleus's obsession with happy endings + Idia's gloomy demeanor…? No clue if he actually is gloomy or not, he just gives me gloomy vibes.

Victor is Crowley-adjacent! Like they're both overseeing this group of powerful men with magic so you'd think they're serious types--but they aren't. They're silly and use their own skills to do frivolous things like doing magic tricks or making cake fancier. They also both seem to be hiding a secret...

Harrison doesn't remind me of anyone in particular, though I do see little bits of our typical "lying" characters in him. He has the chill of a Che'nya but also Floyd's flippancy and lies as easily as like... I don't know, Cater?? Not sure on this one.

abfhbyoafvadpiadgo OKAY OKAY BUT THE FUNNIEST ONE TO ME IS WILLIAM BECAUSE HE'S "THE QUEEN OF HEARTS" CHARACTER... Most of the time when you have a character with this inspiration, they're controlling and easily angered (*stares at Riddle*), but William is NOTHING like that???? In fact, he's got a strong sense of justice and often encourages others to be honest and to act freely, even if it means disregarding the rules. Every time William opens his mouth... I picture Riddle shrieking and sobbing/j

[askaniritual]

As a former silver age DC enjoyer do you have a favorite Hal Jordan wipeout moment?

honestly i was never a hal fan 😭 his only value to me was that he was pals with barry allen, my very first all-consuming comic book obsession

[dramioneasks]

Top 10 Most “Kudos-ed” (Completed) Fics on AO3 of 2023:

Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark - E, 50 chapters, Words: 150,499 - Hermione, now in her mid-20s, is back at Hogwarts to pursue higher education. Trying to forget the trauma carved into her by the war, she spends one lust-filled night with a certain pureblood. But that night will have consequences. While her personal life unravels, a string of mysterious murders forces her to work together with Draco Malfoy, who himself seems to carry many secrets. "He scared her. Not because he wielded killing curses like they were nothing, but because he seemed to understand her in a way that even she didn’t. The more she let him in, the more power he had to destroy her." Come for the smut, stay for the plot. Read if you like: - Murder mystery - Dark Arts - Hurt/ Comfort - Hermione and Draco both deal with PTSD - Angst, so much angst

In These Silent Days by HeyJude19 - E, 14 chapters, Words: 67,209 -Hermione is familiar with fighting: for respect, for attention, for justice. She’s even made a career of it; working on behalf of creatures and beings. But her battle against the Ministry’s marriage law is one she loses. Badly. And now, she has to contend with not only public derision and patriarchal politics, but her growing feelings for her government-mandated spouse.

The Silver Envelope by sinflower81 - E, 70 chapters, Words: 192,647 - “Tell me again to release you, Granger. Tell me again that you just want to be friends.” It’s been five years since Draco last spoke to Granger. Things are different now, and though earning her trust will be a challenge, he can’t seem to keep himself away. Hermione has been busy advocating for elves around the world, but when her breakup with Ron turns her life upside-down, she knows there’s only one person who can help her. Alternating POVs between Hermione and Draco. Slow burn, eventual smut, light dom/sub. Diverges from canon after Voldemort's defeat.

In Silence & Submission by gillianeliza - E, 29 chapters, Words: 69,694 - 10 years after the war everything has changed. Enemies turned into friends and lovers. Fear turned into hope. Pain into joy. Everyone has moved on except for Hermione Granger. Nestled within her friend group, now made up of not just Harry and Ginny, but also Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and of course Draco Malfoy, she was content to allow the trauma of her past to haunt her. More than just content - it was what she felt she deserved - until one evening Draco Malfoy decided enough was enough. This is a low stakes, split POV fic that deals heavily with life AFTER the Battle of Hogwarts. You will find the POV of either Hermione or Draco stated in bold italics, in the middle whenever it shifts. Please read all tags as this work deals with BDSM, kink, trauma recovery, & suicidal ideation.

A Game of High Stakes by In_Dreams - E, 51 chapters, Words: 263,110 - In theory, the task is simple: kill Draco Malfoy. In practice, putting a curse through the Dark Lord's favoured lieutenant will take everything Hermione has―especially since he's trying to kill her, too. Even more so when the lines between them start to blur. Sometimes, the only way out is through.

Hogwarts: A History (Hermione's Version) by Lizzie_carlile - M, 38 chapters, Words: 141,828 - Lord Voldemort has been defeated, and the children of the Wizarding War are thriving. When the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black is adopted and takes her place in the family with her loving fathers, a new trio is formed. With her best friend and her brother by her side, Hermione Black is thrust into a world that she never knew existed. Will whispers from the past threaten to destroy the world she knows? Or will love once again conquer all? Another take of the Nice Things AU. What would happen if Draco asked Hermione to the Yule Ball before Ron Weasley had a chance to?

Teach Me How to Forget by scullymurphy - E, 20 chapters, Words: 109,646 - Hermione Granger is 27 years old when her life falls apart. Cheated-on, flatless, fed up with her job, she decides to change one thing she can--take a class and try for some career advancement. But change is never easy, especially when an old enemy is the catalyst. And the class instructor. "Just as the minute hand clicked over to the hour, the doorknob twisted and a figure slipped into the room. He was tall, a bit windblown. Hermione had a general impression of crisp cuffs and polished leather, and then a more specific one of the most beautiful grey coat—highlighting his shoulders and eyes, skimming to just the right place on his knife creased trousers. His movements were precise and confident. He was wearing the softest-looking gloves. He was not Professor Belinda Rowle. He was Draco bloody Malfoy."

The Order of Serpents by bl_crtz - E, 44 chapters, Words: 193,506 - During the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter walked into the forbidden forest, died, and walked out with crimson eyes as the new vessel of the Dark Lord. Since then, Hermione Granger served as an elite member of the True Order, isolating herself from other Order members and going on missions alone, not only haunted by the loss of her best friend, Harry, but Ron who had run away after the battle. Three and a half years later, Draco Malfoy shows up with his two year old son on the Order’s doorstep seeking to switch sides. Together, Draco and Hermione are forced to deal with not only each other, but their own past and confront who they’ve become because of the war.

The Contender by rubykrishna - E, 9 chapters, Words: 58,875 - Hermione stopped walking. Her eyes scanned back up the roster until they found the name that she initially mistook for a typo. Draco Malfoy….Beater. She could comprehend the words, the name and the meaning. She understood that his name being on the roster meant he was the starting Beater for England’s national team, but for whatever reason, when her eyes ran over the black ink, her brain could not articulate any emotions or reaction. 

Sincerely Yours by LovesBitca8 - E, 10 chapters, Words: 40,759 - A smile tickled the corners of Hermione’s mouth as she clicked Send. She listened to the whoosh of the message and then turned off her computer. When the ping! had come in, she’d had one foot half-out the door of her flat. She’d dropped her coat and darted for her computer desk, a wide grin blossoming at her inbox. You’ve Got Mail.

[lichenes]

Amour amour

Vincent has a strange fixation with your *gestures wildly*... CW: estabilished relationship, french people, kissing, tooth rotting fluff, LOTS of physical contact, sfw (nothing happens just some tension) Vincent Renzi x gn!reader wc: 562

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

Wherever you went it seemed that Vincent went there too. He seemed to be following you like a lost puppy, a lovesick expression painted on his face. You were chalking it up to you being in the honeymoon stage of your relationship but didn't expect for this state to turn into your everyday life.

Vincent entered the room you were in, wearing only the pyjama pants he bought as a pis aller to convince you he had some sense of style which didn't consist only of elaborately patterned shawls. He gave you a knowing smile. "Bonjour." He said in a low, sultry voice immediately breaking character and bursting into laughter.

You amused him by giggling and sat up on the bed you were previously laying on, extending your arms towards his presence. Vincent obliged and with a slight chuckle he got closer to you in a few strides pressing his bare chest to your face and embracing your head.

"Very comfortable..." you mused, a laugh threatening to escape your lips, words muffled by his tight hug. "Shhhh..." he shushed you and started stroking your hair. You relaxed into his touch putting your arms around his waist.

You stayed like this for a few moments more before the day had to start fully. After you let go Vincent crouched down to be on your lever and put his hand on your cheek gently caressing it with his thumb. Both your hands wandered towards his silver locks which looked especially alluring.

Tugging on them he released a content whine. "Careful." He mused as he got closer. Every time it was the same with him, he knew exactly how to sweep you off your feet without even trying. Vincent put both his hands on your cheeks and gave you the sweetest kiss imaginable, not wanting to overwhelm you in the morning.

When he turned to walk away you grabbed his hand and he turned around questioningly. "Chéri?" You stood up and got closer to him and put your hands around his neck, smiling, you ghosted your lips over his and immediately turned around walking away towards the kitchen.

His lips chased yours but never quite got to catch up to them. Vincent followed suit and entered the kitchen where you were just putting the kettle on.

"Ah you're cruel..." He feigned affront, putting his hand on his chest. Your back was against the kitchen counter and you chuckled at his theatricals. He went up to you and stole a kiss which you teased him with before, knocking the air out of you with the fervency of it.

Vincent pulled away clearly pleased with himself grinning wildly. Your face was hot from all the affection you recieved, clearly enjoying it. It was your turn to put your hands on his cheeks. Just as you were about to say something he chimed. "You're so pretty sunshine." Your cheeks got even hotter.

Sunshine. It was one of Vincent's favourite pet names for you because it made you the most flustered. Your blushes, stolen glaces, the way it made him feel transcended humanity's understanding of love. Goddess was a word that didn't do you justice.

You were more like an eldrich benevolent force which was the only thing he got out of bed for. You chuckled into the kiss. "Ah Vincent Renzi, the man you are..." you sighed contently.

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.63)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this; his pants off and you begging "Daisy please-"

Tags: fluff, a little hurt but mostly just comfort, first times, soft cuddle sex, unintentional mutual somnophilia, knotting, scenting, under clarified limits, a touch of slick kink, breeding kink, a touch of size kink (you know the good stuff), unrealistic amounts of cum, implied belly bulge, implied feral sex, small triggers after sex, small references to past abusive relationships, hole check's, knot checks, dom/sub undertones to later scenes but not in the main smut,

W/c: 14.2k

A/n: thank you guys for being patient for this next chapter :) it's one of my favorites so please give it lots of love! i know we've all been waiting for hobi's confession and the completion of their arc, did i do it justice? Also i'm sorry that i have a pathological need to end every single chapter with a cliffhanger lol, this one is no different!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

(5 years ago. Before Yoongi. Before everyone.)

Jung Hoseok cleans his arms in a bathroom. He is 21 years old, there is lipstick on his fingers, and nothing bad has happened to him yet.

Bad is all relative of course. Some would call growing up in a rich area while living in a one-bedroom apartment bad. Some people would call not really knowing your parents because they work late nights bad. Some would even say that the fact that they won’t pay for Hoseok’s college education a fucking tragedy.

But between you and me and Hoseok; other people wouldn't know a fucking tragedy if it hit them in the fucking face. Talking to some people about your suffering is like trying to make a toddler shoot the broad side of a god damn barn with a double barrel shotgun. Or like those little lemon slices they put in the water at olive garden-

It's fucking useless. And you're more likely to be sent to the hospital than get some actual fucking results. Weather it's because of food poisoning, a bullet wound, or because some idiot you trusted thinks you're a god damn suicide risk.

See right? Talking about your problems is fucking useless.

But he’s always been able to focus on the brighter side of things. It's a blessing and a curse because optimism always lies to you. It's easier to be happy than it is to be upset, at least for Hoseok at this moment.

At least he was an optimist until they ruined him a little. After this year, finding the silver will take effort.

The tiles beneath his feet are cold to the touch. He knows that there’s a button somewhere to turn on the heated flooring but he just can’t find it. Hidden and unfamiliar as he is with this den. So different from his own little dormitory halfway across the city.

This fancy three-bedroom apartment is one that he will move into in precisely 4 months once they make it official, he’ll live here for exactly 2 years 3 months, and 8 days before being kicked out and moving into the pack's den. It’s exactly 2 years to the date that he meets Min Yoongi in the record store.

But nothing bad has happened to him yet. Today he is just himself, No idea of what's about to befall him and that It won't just be bad.

This apartment is upscale, with its wainscotting and long gauzy curtains that barely keep out the sound of the city streets 5 stories below and the lightly warm June morning. He’s not quite sure who pays for this one yet. Hasn’t had the chance to ask, he's only been seeing this pack for 2 months. This Hoseok is shyer than the one you know. Timid and unsure of where he should place his dulled claws.

It's all awfully mysterious. The question of "What do your parents do?" and the answer pressed to a raised finger. The truth lingering between lipstick and manicure on a single giggled breath.

"That's a secret"

He casts a glance around the bathroom, the marble counters, the plush hand towels, and even the designer soap is forghein to him.

Rich people.

It's one part tired jealousy and one part true distaste. Even if Hoseok had all the money in the world he wouldn't waste it on painting a bathroom white or powdery Dior soap. Why not blue or orange or green or pink?

(Oh Hobi. The pack’s bathroom will be green one day, with delicate tiles in the shade of the lightest moss. Not yellow-toned and not blue. he's going to help yoongi pick it out, He just doesn’t know it yet).

Their apartment is just a few blocks from the college that he attends, a freshman but not for much longer. A freshman, along with the pack's youngest. Her on the business track and him in a weed-out art department. The prerequisite humanities course is their shared battleground.

Out of everything in this story, this is the only true coincidence.

This version of Hoseok likes omegas with a bit of a dark side. The ones that are a bit bitchy, a bit entitled and alot pretty. The ones that hone their eyeliner to a vicious edge, or the male ones that act a little bit more like alphas and disobey gender norms. That’s what drew his eye to this pack's youngest in their hum 1 class.

He got a little melty when her eyes turned less “I’ll kill you if you even sniff in my direction” and more “A pretty alpha like you has to have a pack right?”

Hoseok had stuttered when he’d said that No- he didn’t.

Before long he’ll drop out because he just can’t cut it at art school. Just can’t spend nights with fingers black from charcoal, working on things that will one day be thrown in the garbage because he’ll have a pack to attend to. Good alpha that he is.

(It will be years before he realizes that it wasn't art school just mediums. He’s meant to use flowers to make things instead.)

They’re not his pack yet, not yet. not yet. Not Yet- But there is a gift waiting for him downstairs. A fancy set of pastels and paints. It’s the start of courting even though he’s supposed to be the one buying them gifts. He’s the penniless college student they’re the ones with the nice apartment. He’s the one with the knot, and they’re all omegas. It’s a give-and-take.

Yet somehow even though he’ll be the only alpha he knows he won’t be the pack alpha.

He cleans the lipstick from his fingers. Bright red. He knows he has it in other places too, down below the tugged low hemline of his pants pulled on after they were done fucking.

The last thing he wants to be is like the other alphas in the fraternities on campus, the ones that holler at all the omegas shit like “I can taste your slick from here baby,” and “want to study anatomy together? I’m a hands-on learner” Hobi dreads the idea that he might be like that. Even a little bit. Even unintentionally.

But still, their words from earlier ring in his ears.

“They haven’t been dating for that long, you can’t expect us to be comfortable all the time with you in our nest, it's a really intimate thing for us."

Hobi feels like one of those phraternity alphas when it makes him uncomfortable.

It’s reasonable that they wanted to give his knot a ride and try him out before they make it official. One alpha and four omegas, these odds are every alpha’s wet dream. He knows his performance was Oscar-worthy.

It had been nice to be in a nest for just a little bit, Hoseok’s biology wants it, the tense knot between his shoulders all loose.

Hoseok has never been loved by someone who wanted to talk to him every day, it will be easy for them to reduce his focus to their beck and call.

There's 4 different colors of lipstick on his cock. Four different shades from four different women. His new packmates get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick arrangement.

In the future, he’ll deny that he ever thought of any of these women as that- as packmates. He'll say it was only ever Namjoon’s pack that he wanted in this way. He’ll say it never compared and it didn’t. Except for these first few months. These first few days.

Memories lie to us all the time; memory is the best secret keeper.

He watches one of his packmates sit on the edge of the nest, she wears the lipstick prints better than he does. Lining the inside of her thighs, her own lips smudged.

Hoseok doesn’t let the smile fall from his lips and she smiles back. She tugs her long hair free of a bun that she’d put it up in so that she didn’t get slick in it. It will be a few more months until she cuts it above her collarbones. Blunt to a brutal edge.

Hoseok’s sweatshirt is on the edge of the nest, and Hoseok watches as she brings it to her nose, breathing in deep. Hoseok is just about to say that she can wear it when she throws it onto a nearby ottoman. Not onto the floor thankfully. No omega has ever worn his sweatshirt before. Hoseok tries not to let the rejection of his scent sting.

She looks at the lipstick on Hoseok, there’s a bit on his lip. “Come here.” She asks, parting her legs.

Hoseok is a good alpha and goes.

~-~

(Now, You and Hobi)

When Hobi wakes it's because the pack is moving around the room, bickering, and struggling to be quiet, bickering a little.

Their low hum drum voices as they talk about “Jungkookie? where did you put my mittens?” and ”I sort of love that you still wear mittens, babe.” Yoongi’s deep rumble, “Did Jimin buy those for you too?” All teasing and understanding. Because if anyone knows how Tae likes to be teased, Yoongi does.

Tae’s fond little croon is so melodic it makes Hobi sigh, ears straining to hear more of it. “Yes, he did. Got pup matching ones too.”

Pup. that’s you. Curled in the center of the nest under Hobi's elbows. dozing but unable to lift your head from where it's pillowed. You’re sure that Yoongi knows you’re kind of awake or at least listening in because Yoongi knows everything.

You’re sure that as he looks down at you and Hobi tangled together, he’s doing it with a smirk. You don’t need to open your eyes and double-check.

The temperature of the nest is balmy, overly warm in the way that it gets when it’s cold outside and the nesting is hitting so particularly good that Hobi won’t even think of moving. (The way it feels when you come out of the cold and into the waiting arms of someone you love) Hobi nuzzles into the warmth in front of him.

A small storm brews outside. The snow has been falling since midday. Just a little here and there. But Tae loves how it looks with all the Christmas lights. There aren’t quite enough up yet but the holiday season is close.

But the snow won't last, soon it won’t be falling at all. It will all melt off by tonight, the afternoon is supposed to be sunny. Can sun showers happen with snow?

"Do you think we could walk all the way to the gym, it's not all that far! only like 10 miles. We could run it in like an hour!"

He listens to the others talk. The sound of Yoongi’s voice, gravely and vaguely upset. “Jungkook, you’re not really thinking about going to work out right now- You’ve barely been home for like 5 hours. I just said we could go do something not run 10 fucking miles.”

Jungkook always gets this way; when the dizziness of the seizures turns to restlessness and he's honestly fine but the others can't resist trying to baby him. Too awake to sleep anymore. He sounds grumpy, whiney, and pouty even though Hobi's eyes aren't open to see him turn his puppy eyes on Yoongi. “I’m never going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hyung- I’m gonna go crazy.”

There’s the faint sound of lips meeting and smacking. Kisses that are probably meant to soothe Jungkook. ��How about we compromise pup.”

“A walk?” Tae offers, sounding hopeful.

“A long walk.”

You shift a little and Hoseok opens his eyes. You're mostly still asleep just settling, making yourself more comfortable with the new space no longer corralled by arms and bodies.

Hobi’s mouth is dry when he watches you shift onto your stomach your face half-smushed into the cushions, scenting them a little in your sleep. The homey scent fizzle in Hoseok’s bones tells him that you've scented him too. Being surrounded by the pack's scent like this makes Hobi’s skin feel like pop rocks. Like his bones are mentos and coca cola. All sensitive and tingly.

He’s cuddled with you before- through your nightmares and last night at the hospital of course- but it’s never been just the two of you in a nest. He’s never been the only alpha here, charged with guarding the pillows and blankets and you curled soft in the center.

Hobi tentatively puts an arm around your waist, tugging you a little closer. The house still hasn't totally warmed up yet and you'd be cold without some body heat. He does it slowly, seeing if you’ll wake.

There is a hand in his hair, petting softly, and he snatches his arm from around your waist the second Hoseok realizes he's being watched. Yoongi leans over the edge of the couch-turned-nest, smirking a little. The door shuts behind Tae and Jungkook with a puff of cold air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

He would look intimidating if his beanie didn't have cat ears. 

The pads of Yoongi's fingers rub soothing circles under Hobi's jaw and his lips part unintentionally. “Be good yeah?” he says, whisper soft. Hoseok just nods, too sleepy to verbally respond.

They haven’t talked much about Hobi’s confession; that night on the beach what feels like ages ago. But everytime he thinks of it Hobi still tastes salt on his tongue and your name on his lips. 

Yoongi’s wearing the same look now that he did then; half hopeful and half worried. But if there was anyone that would object on your behalf, if Hobi wasn't allowed this closeness with you, Yoongi would tell him.

Yoongi doesn't say that you and him aren't ready for cuddling like this. Yoongi doesn't say that Hoseok should give you space or not cradle you to his chest like you are something as fragile and necessary and as doomed as his beating heart. Trembling and stuttering with the force of sweet expectations and hopes made hollow with satisfaction.

Yoongi does not realize that Hoseok's heart has not had a steady beat since he woke up holding you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything. Yoongi just drags a single knuckle down his cheek and leaves. Heading out after Tae and Jungkook who are, judging from the hallow sound of snow hitting the windows- are having a snowball fight.

“If one of those hits me I’m not holding anyone’s hand for the whole walk-“

The door keeps out the sound of Tae's sweet giggles and Jungkook’s pouted, "just one hyung- I won't hit your face-" 

And the two of you are alone. Wrapped up warm, quiet and hushed, just the two of you.

Well, except for Noodle.

The meticulously kept edge of the nest is all fluffed, Noodle makes sure of it. Small paws depressing the blanket as he kneads it and then settles on the edge. His purr is audible from here as he blinks slowly from the bottom of the couch turned nest. Jin wrangled him for a brushing yesterday morning and his coat still looks extra fluffy and kempt. 

Unwatched and unjudged, Hobi tentatively reaches to cradle your ribs again. Thumb smoothing down the center of your stomach, a little close to your belly button. You’ve got a little hair there. Hobi’s fingers like the feel of it. Not rough but not silky.

Your skin feels like champagne bubbles and sparklers, everywhere he touches your skin goes fizzy. Hobi looks down at you, breath hitching, and thinks Is it really so horrible to want this? Why am I so afraid of this? 

You wiggle a little closer in your sleep and Hobi’s arm goes vicelike.

Noodle's purr goes a little louder. 

Hobi doesn’t like to think about his last pack ever, but he recognizes that hollow ache and tug that says memories aren’t too far behind. And it threatens to swallow him until he looks down at you. The house is quiet but your eyebrows are puffed up like something very shocking is happening in your dreams. He doesn't want to think about them right now. 

He drags his nose across your hairline; scenting you. Tasting your emotions on his tongue. Comfort. Ease. Arousal-sweet. Not all that abnormal. Not nightmares then. He is always on the lookout for them. After Jungkook and the hospital, he sort of thought they might come back. 

Hoseok counts his stars and snowflakes, and rests his forehead against the nape of your neck.

Over the next hour, you’re restless. Moving, worming your way closer to him as he goes in and out of sleep. You make a soft noise and he shushes you. a growl that says to stay put and alpha's here.

You blink slowly up at him. Hobi pulls back, taking his arm from around your waist, feeling like he’s just stolen candy from a jar on the counter that’s for him anyway. You stretch and don't comment on it, yawning. 

Noodle hops closer, squirming between the two of you and stepping over your shoulders. Meowing right in Hoseok’s face. “Alright alright, I’ll feed you again.”

You snuggle into the warm hallow he left on the couch when he detangles himself, hand under your cheek watching him as he stumbles out of the nest. Noodle follows tail held high. It's truly horrible. Leaving the nest when every bit of Hobi's body wants him to stay in the warmth. The house is always so slow to warm up. 

“Fuck the floors are cold.”

“Quick,” you say, face above the edge of the cover. Hoseok rushes, doling out a single scoop of dry food and then running back to you. Hobi wastes precious seconds to grab his headphones from the kitchen table before collapsing onto the couch where you hold the blanket up, sealing the warmth and him back inside. The headphones tangle between the two of you and he falls with a giggle. Disappearing among the white blanket. He sinks thankfully into the warmth, into the safety that the nest offers. Into you.

Your warm arms wrap around his shoulders and his body shivers delightfully in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Your jaw pops when you yawn and then he yawns too, a breath later. You laugh too and tuck your face into his shoulder.

“Fuck- it’s so cozy.”

It really is, the kind of cozy that only comes along a few times a year. A quiet to your bones that says there is nothing to do now but rest. The coldness that turns your bodies into these molten-loving things. Your warmth and Hoseok’s warmth. One warmth.

He breathes, deep and heavy.

“I don’t know if I want to get up yet.” The house is still quiet. Nothing but Noodles happy munching sounds and the faint scratch of big snowflakes hitting the windows.

Hobi’s heart beats frantic against yours and you sigh. “Wanna listen to some music?” He offers. Hobi always loves a backtrack, a little compliment for the exposition.

You nod, a little sleepy, but Hobi has a playlist for that. He’s got a playlist for everything including ’sleepy cozy pup time’. The headphones take a second to locate, lost in the nest. But when he does you share them. One earphone a piece, the sound turned low so you can still talk.

Hobi puts on a love song, and it makes you smell all sweet. Stretched out with your hair tangling because you’ve left it unbound, the split ends prodding at Hobi’s cheeks. He doesn’t really listen to the song, just watches you. Eyes closed humming softly.

Your scent sours and Hoseok's hand goes tight on your wrist. You tell him what's bothering you without him even having to ask.

“I saw this line the other day that didn't like." You look at the ceiling, not at him. "it said a love song is really good if you can’t tell whether they’re talking about another person or if they’re talking about god.”

You think about Jimin and Tae. You've been thinking about it since Tae talked about their childhood earlier and the bloody cross between the two of them. If holiness does exist, it’s in Tae. If there is anything like religion for you or Jimin, it's love. God has nothing to do with it. God's not the person who makes love songs sound good.

Hobi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow. “I’m not sure Jimin would agree with that either.”

You turn in time to see Hobi’s smile. It catches the sunlight, lingering right on his cheek. An octagonal shaft of sunlight that has traveled millions of miles to get there could not have found a more beautiful place to fall. He huffs a quiet laugh again, and you swear you might hear the highest note of a piano somewhere.

You wonder when he became so musical to you, maybe it’s just because he’s the person who made you love music so much.

(You can tell a love song is good, when it makes you think of Hobi).

“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?” You rest your lips against his shoulder and Hobi’s body doesn’t move an inch. They’re soft where they lie not a kiss but not not a kiss either. You can rest your lips against his skin, you can rest your whole body and Hoseok wouldn't move an inch.

“Always worried, got to worry about Minnie. Always worried about everyone.” You mumble. Eyes closing.

The light comes through the windows all honey yellow, turning the bookshelves that Yoongi made gold instead of white. Turns the tops of Hobi’s hair a little red too, the brown has endless depths in the sunlight all burnt umber and Sienna where the sun hits, yellow ocher at the tips. The sunlight savors falling on Hobi, down to the last inch.

You try to keep your eyes open, struggling, and Hobi sets a hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair lightly.

"Go back to sleep pup."

You hum, already half there. He pulls you a little on top of him, holding you with a firmness usually reserved for too-large packages and the tenderness reserved for very fragile very precious things. It makes your whole body feel tingly at the edges.

“Thanks for not leaving the nest when everyone else did,” you think he might be asleep for how long it takes him to answer. But everything in the last 24 hours has left you feeling like you don’t want to be alone, that you can’t be left by yourself. He breathes up and it presses against your stomach.

“Didn’t want to go with the others- just wanted to stay here in the nest with you.” nesting is a biological need for alphas as much as it is for omegas, Hobi hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.

He murmurs, hand still skimming through your hair. His thumb rolling against the nape of your neck and you shiver hard into the touch, sinking further into him. “Is that okay?”

Your hand finds a spot under his arm and you use it to tug yourself closer, getting your forehead against his shoulder, the headphones slipping from your ear.

“Yeah. It’s always okay.”

Hobi tucks your hair behind your ear and puts the headphones back in.

The next time you wake it’s because Noodle is licking at your forehead, grooming you, and you hear the shutter sound of Hobi’s camera, his small giggle. You swat at noodles face and he bats at you a little before settling on the small of your back, fighting Hobi for necessary real-estate and howling when he gets pushed off.

“Nu, be quiet,” Hobi’s hushed words are answered with an equally quiet meow that sends you straight off to dreamland again.

You don't know how long it's been, it could have been hours or minutes the next time you wake. You just know that Hobi smells good, smells musky sweet caramel all drippy and heady, that you've got your nose pressed up against his scent gland. All surrounded by it. Surrounded by him.

The next time you wake is not so innocent.

You’re a little too close. Cuddling with Hobi in a way that you might with Yoongi- with Namjoon or Jungkook. All warm snug hot. Bodies and dreams tangled so thoroughly that it's hard to tell where dreamy wants begin and fragile delights end.

You’re warm at your front from Hobi and warm on your back from the sunshine streaming through the window. Warm all the way through. Until he moves his hand and you realize that’s from him too. His fingers splayed over your spine.

You think you can be forgiven for confusing them. Hoseok and sunlight are one and the same.

The apex of your thigh is pressed tight to his hip just where his thigh starts. Your leg hitched over his hip and tight to it. The fabric of his sweatpants and the fabric of your pajama shorts are all bunched up from your movements. Your knee bent at a comfortable angle. His scent is heady in your nose, pressed to the low tugged collar of his shirt just over his heart.

As close as you can be but still not enough.

You don't even realize your hips are moving, sleepily grinding against his thigh until it's too late.

Hobi grabs your hips and groans.

You stop mid-movement, thoughts sloshing sleepy. And oh, you were moving, weren’t you? There is a dampness between your thighs and the scent of slick and arousal sharp in the air. That comfortable pleasure hiccup in your throat that says you want to cum and can. could like this.

You jerk back from the warmth in front of you, startled into wakefulness as you realize exactly you were just doing.

Oh no- you didn’t mean- Hobi. Alpha, warm and comfortable at your front.

You start to back up, still half asleep, but terror and embarrassment flood you like the ocean floods the sea rocks at high tide.

Hobi groans, a deep near growl sound, and moves before you can back up even an inch. he was just as asleep as you just were until you pulled away. His sleepy brain still clings to you.

His hands slip lower, holding you tight against his front. His sleepy alpha brain is malfunctioning. Sweet omega needs to stay close. The source of his warmth and the friction against his front cannot slip away.

His hands are on your ass and your pussy is pressed flushed to his hip, and Hobi-

Hobi is your best friend, Hobi is your packmate and Hobi has to be unaware of what he’s doing. You’re sure of it. You try to pull away again from him fighting back more embarrassment than you've ever felt in your entire life, hands pressed to his chest.

But He pulls you right back to him.

Right into a unmistakable hardness poking at your stomach. Hard and warm. Right where you were grinding in your sleep.

Hoseok’s heavy breath brushes your ear.

Instincts are incredibly hard to describe. The way they hook into your consciousness and separate reason from action and want from logic. The part of you that’s in control, that recognizes that you and Hobi shouldn’t be this close like this if it’s not talked about, is so distant.

A needy sound echoes that might be from you, that is from you, as Hobi’s hands slide up your hips and under his sweatshirt. Cold hands on your warm hips and oh-

Hobi’s eyes are cracked open, looking down at you, watching you with pink cheeks. Tongue darting out to lick at his lip. “S’okey you just-" his eyes flutter closed again; breath warm against your face. "You take what you need.”

It’s only a testament to the pack's care that you associate these things with each other. Safety and coziness are just so close to pleasure and comfort. Your sleepy body associates this kind of nesting with sex. it's only natural that you'd get a little needy while inside of it.

You can get needy, Hobi doesn't mind.

Before either of you can say if you really should, if this is really a good thing to do without talking about it first. Hobi’s hands are on your waist, pulling you back snug, his hard thigh between your legs.

If you were more awake, you’d think better of it, you’d think so much but there is only that sweet pressure. The drag, the wetness, the soft little huffs of breath that he shushes when he lets you take what you need. Helps you with his hands on your hips and guides you back into rocking against his thigh.

You feel it all the way down to your toes when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass then back up again, underneath the hem of your shorts and then your sweatshirt- his too (all of you his). Rucked up to your ribs.

“Soft.” Hobi groans.

This must not be real. This has to be a dream. Because Hobi doesn't want to touch you like this, Hobi doesn't groan and twitch against your stomach or guide the movement of your hips with his hands into a slow grind that has you gasping against his jaw. Hobi doesn’t leave the seat of your pajama bottoms soaked with slick. Hole clenching around nothing already. Utterly boneless where you lie against his front.

There is one single moment where you look at each other, one single moment where you try to keep from going any farther. Even though you want it, even though he wants it too. If Namjoon and Jin have taught you anything they've taught you caution.

Hoseok can smell the others lingering on your skin, the spot on the top of your head where Yoongi rested his cheek. He leans down, brushing his lips over it. It’s such a tender gesture and it breaks the flood and he's tugging you up, tugging you even closer, desperation coloring his voice all sweet.

“Fuck- please.” His forehead rests against yours, “fuck I just need-“

You're not sure who moves first, who starts the kiss only that once you’re kissing him it’s hard to stop. One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.

Teeth clanging against each other, harsh as they nip. Kissing so good that when you pull apart for breath you're both gasping and it has nothing to do with needing air.

Hobi has such nice lips it’s no wonder that they’re heart-shaped. Made for kissing, made for the needy needy licking against the seam of his lips. He shifts turning you on your side, surging up to kiss you properly and put his weight behind it. cradling your head with one hand and your side with the other. You’re so pliant, so willing to let him kiss and take. You want him to take everything. arms around his neck.

He breaks apart, forehead resting against yours, heart beating so quick that he can feel it in his palms. Pupiles blown when he blinks. “If you take what you need, and I take what I need- Can we-“

Your hands thread hard in his hair. Tugging him back to your lips. Closer and closer. “Fuck Yes- please-“

You don’t know where the wanting comes from, why it’s raging through you like a fire. His lips move against yours frantic, you bite his lip and he jerks. Hovering over you with your back against the nest, all tingly and fizzy. Your bones feel like champagne popping, like shooting stars burning out.

Hobi’s hands shake when they touch your hips, just like yours do when you mirror him, your touches shy but just as hungry, tugging up his shirt, fingertips and nails pressing bluntly to his happy trail of fine dark hair. You can feel the way his cock jumps against your stomach and thigh when you scratch gently.

You pull back a little and sit up and it’s sacred; the way that he panics, scrambling to hold onto you. You're A little bit shy when you take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. hair fluffing when you get it free from the cotton.

Your bare skin and the cold room. You get goosebumps on your arms almost instantly when they cross over your bare chest. Hobi’s breath stutters in his chest, like roman candles flare and settle. Hobi takes his sweatshirt from you and sets it aside in his haste to hold you again.

He starts to tugs his pants down, getting tangled because he won't even pull back an inch from you. You kiss his throat, again and again making up for lost time. Sucking a mark there. His hands fumble with the waistband of his tied tight grey sweatpants. finding the loops and then freeze when he feels wetness. Pulling back and looking down just to make sure that that is what he thinks it is. you stop your kissing and look too.

There is a wet spot, darkening the grey material. Your slick from your grinding, the spot where you got so worked up and felt so good that you couldn't even help it. He pulls back so that the light can kiss it but yeah that's definitely from you. Evidence of how much you want this. Evidence of how much you want him.

Hoseok thinks you might have actually set his body on fire. Is about ready to start checking your fingers for matches.

You blush so hot that you think you might be burning in embarrassment. Hands between your legs, clutching at the material of the nest, so embarrassed you can't watch as Hoseok looks down at it and then up at you.

“I’m sorry I- I can’t help it- I'm always-“

Hobi’s hands smooth over the wet patch, splaying up to cradle his cock where you’ve left your mark. And he looks at you, jaw rolling and eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

It’s hasty how you both move to take his pants off, and he kicks them to some forgotten corner of the nest, his boxers pulled off too, and then clings to you. You cling to each other. Kissing again. Hands knotting through his hair and tugging.

You glance down and oh- Hobi has such a pretty cock. the prettiest in the pack maybe (don't tell Tae), Flushed at the tip, hair neatly trimmed and curving up.

Your bare thighs press to his adds a whole new level to this, the skin there is sensitive and unknown. Lying thigh to thigh somehow feels more intimate than chest to chest as you lie the way lovers do, your leg, his, then yours again.

You’re damp between your legs when he touches, hands shaking. He doesn't bother to take off your shorts just tugs the soaked bit of fabric to the side. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a pussy but he knows enough to do it gently. Petting over your folds like he’s teasing a flower to bloom and opening a rose for a bouquet.

“Please” you gasp, hand vicelike around his wrist. Kissing his frantic pulse again. Hot lips and a cold nose drag down his throat. You hiccup as the pads of his fingers find your clit, shaking against him. "Please-"

But you don’t need to ask, you don’t need to beg. Whatever you need Hobi will give it to you. Your hands scratch as his back when he presses close, snaking underneath his sweatshirt. Breath heavy.

He kisses your neck and bites it when his length brushes the wetness between your thighs. Hot and honey slick. his hips press to your hips, harsh lines of his thighs pointing low that you like. There is so much about Hobi that you like; the way that he kisses, the way that he touches. oh- it’s better than you imagined.

His knuckles are glossy with your slick when he curls them against the nest, holding himself up.

Hobi bends down to skim a kiss across your neck, your collarbones, your sternum.

You laugh, your giggle high and bright. He has to pull back, not upset at all but wanting to laugh too, giggling too. “Why are you?”

Your smile means everything to him. “Your hair tickles.” It is kind of fluffy, kind of pulled everywhere from your kissing and you run your fingers through it, scratching a little around the nape of his neck, and Hobi is done playing.

He pulls back, already dripping a bit of precum, silvery and pearl like at the head of his cock, standing against his stomach. a little hidden because he's still wearing his sweatshirt. Checking because he can’t not check.

“Is this- can I- fuck are you-“

“Daisy, please-“ Oh, how that pet name unhinges him.

He won't make you wait another second for it, hands shaking as he holds your hip. Shushing your needy whimpers with a soothing alpha rumble as he guides his cock close. Giving you what you both need.

Hoseok is not as big as Namjoon or Tae or Jimin, but he’s properly thick. Not the kind of thickness that knocks the breath out of you but the kind that fits just right. Not enough to make you ache or hurt even a little. It doesn’t hurt at all when he eases in slowly.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

That might be because of how soaked you are; dripping messy underneath the warm humidity of the blanket. The visual of your glossy pussy robbed from him but unimportant as Hobi stares at your face, resting his head against your forehead. Watching your eyes dilate and eyelashes flutter. “There we go- fuck-”

It’s not worth pulling back to separate how close you are. How good it feels to press his chest to your chest, not even a single inch separating you. His kisses go gentle and messy, moving against yours in a gentle rhythm just like his hips after he gives you a second to grow used to it. Rocking just a little.

Hoseok has heard the others talk about your pussy, those moments that he tried to block out at the beginning and then started to file away once loving you got more real. But for everything he's heard from his packmates, nothing compares to the reality.

The closeness. The way your hips fit. The hot- too much- clench around him.

He understands a little maybe, fully buried in you for the first time, why they talk about it so much. Why Jungkook had slipped it into dirty talk a few times with Namjoon and why it had made him growl and cum so quick. Why Tae had teased Yoongi for hogging you.

Your pussy feels like an inside joke in all the best ways, the kind of inside jokes that always have you feeling both known and loved. You can’t remember what you used to laugh about when you were a teenager and if asked Hoseok would fail to describe why sex with you feels so full. Why it feels like highlights and golden ages, the golden hour drenching you. It’s not sex for pleasure’s sake and it's not sex for closeness's sake either- although that’s part of it.

It’s not sex at all, it's making love. With Hobi, it’s making love from the beginning.

It's not instincts and mating bond urges. It’s not one submissive giving to a dominant. It’s not about protection and safety even though that's there or because you're an omega and he's an alpha. Because he's a man and you're a woman.

It's just love, that's it.

And it doesn’t hurt at all. For either of you.

The eye contact is never ending, his warm and fucked out the more he rocks. Gentle at first and building up frantic. Hobi doesn’t fuck like the rest of the pack does either; he doesn’t speak, letting out these quiet heavy breaths and shushing your squeaks with soothing alpha grumbles. His thumb wiping away the few overwhelmed tears that slip out and a smile swallowing your hiccuping breaths.

"Fuck” he breathes, moving his hips a little faster. His stomach presses to yours damp and tacky with sweat. Hoseok’s doesn't fuck in and out all the way, hardly moving away from you at all. Just rocking in deep.

Hobi doesn’t stop hitting every spot, comfortable with these unending rocks of his hips, maddening in the way that he never stops filling you. Never pulls out even half way.

Your hands weakly clench in the blankets of the nest as he twitches right there. That sensitive spot inside of you that feels like courting ecstasy when he nudges it. It’s the same spot that Yoongi likes to tease at, the spot that only his long fingers can reach properly and Tae’s too when she’s really trying. Ghosting over it and petting at it until you’re mad with pleasure.

But Hobi doesn’t tease, Hobi just gives. rubbing against it again and again with every gentle roll of his hips.

you put your hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpers when he pulls back, sitting up just a little. Holding your waist and forcing your body further down on his cock, nudging it as deep as it can go and you sob.

Hobi grins, a little cocky, a little pleased that despite his size compared to the others you're still equally as wrecked.

“Right there yeah?” he teases, and then rocks against it again. thumbs pressing against your stomach where he cradles you. waist so tiny that they almost meet when he holds you.

Your cheeks are hot, and you have to turn and whimper into the pillow. he lets you shift so that you're belly down in the nest and he's behind you glued to your backside. lying his weight down behind you like a blanket. pressing you into the nest where you'll stay like a good pup.

Hoseok instincts are absolutely purring. omega, getting bred in such a pretty nest. Good warm soft omega.

Your hand laces with the blanket, needing something to hold onto and he kisses the back of your neck, treading your hands together as he keeps going. This new position lets him rock in even deeper, putting his weight behind it.

“If you keep going, I’m not gonna be able to-”

His breath ghosts your ear, lips dragging down the column of your throat to nip and suck gently at your scent gland, marking you there. his hand presses, holding you to the bed as he rocks harder. His barely formed knot already inside and growing, getting you closer and closer as it thickens. Keeping him right there at the spot and you on the edge. You're so wet it's making noises, soaking and dripping down his cock.

He kisses your mating mark, nipping at it, and you’re gone.

You cum, a wet gush around his knot and a broken whimper. a growl in his throat sounds loud in the empty house. It sounds like made mate happy, made omega cum for me. Hoseok's Alpha is absolutely preening watching your Legs shake, the nape of your neck sweaty, body slack and head tilting to bear your neck. both of your bodies messy from it, filthy and blushing with love.

Hobi’s not far behind, rocking another time, a third, a quiet satisfied breath into the back of your neck before his knot pops locking you together as he cums so gently. No growls or gasps, just hot spurts that fill and satisfy you. Knot popping and Locking you so close you can feel his cock pulse. So close you can feel the same heartbeat on his lips when kisses you, hurried kisses pressed to the nape of your neck that quickly go slack with sleep.

Your hand settles across your stomach, and oh- you realize why hobi wasn't bothered by how wet he got you earlier. He just keeps cuming, so much that it's leaking a little around his knot. You're not sure that Jimin or Tae or Yoongi cum this much, Namjoon definitely does- but thats kinda proportional.

he just keeps going, heat flooding you. Maybe he's only cumming so much because it's the first time, and he needs to claim you from the inside out. you're a little too dizzy to figure it out.

You feel like you might pass out. You don't know if it's squirt or cum or just sweat when he lies himself over you. cuddling closer despite the mess. Teeth at your bared throat, Sucking softly, Soothing.

instincts are kind of embarrassing at best, irrationally hot at worse. you squirm a little closer so that his knot goes deeper.

The sunlight spills across your cuddled forms, still underneath the big thick blanket. He doesn’t pull out, the knot keeping him snug tight. His hand is on your cheek, rubbing up and down your jaw. He pulls the blanket up around you. And neither of you says a word as your rapid breathing calms.

You’re not sure who falls back asleep first. Only that he wraps his arm around you and pulls you back on top of his chest, cuddled there. Knot warm and safe inside of you.

knotted together like this, you're finally finally close enough.

~-~

When Hobi wakes you’re watching him and his dick is out. Wet and slick and cold.

That would certainly cause him to be alarmed if it wasn’t for your expression; a little pale. Hands between your legs and looking at the doorway.

You just really don't want to drip cum onto the couch, like- obviously. Hobi didn't hurt you. But the brief terror at waking up uncuddled and so suddenly douses Hobi like a bucket of cold water.

The cold might be the actual reason for his sudden wakefulness. The wintry air in the room is jarring because the house is finally heating up. (as much to do with the heating system doing its job as it is with your activities earlier that turned the windows all hazy with condensation).

It's like someone had just come in and then abruptly left again. Your cheeks are pink, and there is a cloth on the side of the couch, folded and warm. You didn't get it for yourself.

“Don’t freak out, but Yoongi and the others walked in while you were asleep.”

You’re kind of glad that he wasn’t awake to see your mate barely contain his screech, jumping up and down with Jungkook in the entryway. Namjoon’s subtly grinning expression when he took in your appearance and paused in the cold doorway breathing in deeply. Tae wrapped around one arm; their walk interrupted by his return from surgery.

He groans, barely awake enough to think about the visual that Yoongi and the others were treated to. The consequences are better than a shot of expresso at wakeing him up.

But really, was there ever a possibility that the others wouldn’t find out about this? Does Hoseok even want them not to know?

He's too tired, too think about this logically.

Hoseok wonders why he didn’t wake to you holding him. He’s seen you hold the others, hold Namjoon in the morning when you smell like him. The way you wake slowly and run your fingers through their hair. The other alphas have a habit of cuddling up to rest their head against your chest. Hobi remembers that day by the beach when you pet his hair, he wants you to do that now.

But he can't fucking ask. Asking you to cuddle him would be fucking embarrassing.

“Shit." He shakes off his neediness and easily locates his boxers in the mess of the nest because they're bright red. Surreptitiously tucking his now soft and deflated knot back inside. You look away, letting him have that moment of privacy without comment. Your arms curl around your chest, you’re still nude from the waist up. thighs clenched togeather.

“Yeah uhm, they went back out to like- give us some space.”

"Did they say anything?"

You look away, wiggling over to the edge of the nest. "No. But they looked like they wanted to say a whole lot.”

You definitely don’t say that you heard their scuffle, Namjoon and Tae using their alpha privileges to wrangle an overly excited Yoongi and Jungkook. or that both of them had come back inside, both with pink cheeks smelling sweet at the sight of Hobi’s face pressed to your neck and the fresh hickeys at your throat.

(Hobi’s hickeys are always so small and cute. Tae can’t wait to take a picture and save it, for memory's sake. She’s half tempted to take out her phone and snap a picture of the two of you now.)

Your hiss of “Don’t say anything, I swear to fucking god if you wake him-" cured her of any bad ideas and had Namjoon grinning, his dimples showing.

Yoongi’s finger pressed to his lips in the doorway. Smiling wide and showing his gums. Omegas do get awfully protective over alphas in their nests. Especially post-knotting.

You’re honestly a little surprised that their muted shouting hadn’t woken Hobi. The closed door had kept out the cold but not the sound of them discussing on the porch; mostly Tae's insistence that they needed to get out of the house for lunch instead of heading back inside.

“But what if they need aftercare?”

"We shouldn’t leave them alone and unprotected.” (Classic Joonie).

“Yeah! What if they need cleaning!”

Yoongi snorts, “Gross Jk- I’m pretty sure the last thing they want is you licking up Hobi’s cum.”

“But he always likes it when it’s Jinnie-" that had your face and body heating (although that could just be Hobi- a literal furnace that he is wrapped around you).

Now his warmth is on the other side of the nest yet it feels impossibly farther away. As you both stew in silence under the weight of what you’ve done, what you just did.

Everything feels quiet and scary as you put yourselves back together in silence. You use the wet washcloth to keep yourself from dripping all over the couch while he looks for his pants in the mess of blanekts that smell like sex.

Thoughts like shit shit shit and what have you done ping-ponging back and forth across his brain. Mind bouncing between unlikely personal regrets and likely female rejection (of which he is only too familiar with).

Hobi doesn't like feeling rejected, it always brings up bad memories. He didn't wake up to you holding him. Is that a rejection or is his brain just making it up? People always hold each other after sex. Don't they?

You reach for his sweatshirt but before you can touch it a growl bursts forth from his throat and you freeze.

Hoseok scrubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories fitfully. Maybe it’s just because of the fact that he woke up and you weren’t wrapped around him. He's going to have to cuddle you himself if he wants it right now.

This first time with you reminds him of other first time's that didn’t end well. He's sorry for it the second it slips past his lips.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just- my fucking instincts feel like they're on fire."

“So can I…?” you trail off. Your skin has goosebumps again. And Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s the casual nakedness that has him feeling so unmoored. A blush trailing its way up the back of his neck even though it shouldn’t be weird. He saw you shirtless every other hour during Namjoon’s rut for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, just wear it- please wear it.” He can’t take back his growl, but he can meditate by watching you pick it up and hug it to your chest. Looking at him for a second as if to check that it’s still alright and he’s not going to snap at you again.

There is a hickey on your shoulder, the spot where it meets your arm. Hobi doesn’t know if it’s from him or someone else. It's a little too red to not be new. You don’t look uncomfortable being nude in front of him.

If anything, you look a little bit glowy.

You look at him and then pull it over your head. His cheeks still heating stubbornly as your chest moves a little, jiggling.

Why do girls have to just- girl all the time- it's honestly a little unfair how much hobi blushed.

He watches you, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers as you stand up pulling the sweatshirt down your hips. He stares at you until you ask a little flustered by hiding it, “What?”

He tugs on the hem of his sweatshirt, slowly, carefully, leaning forward as he tugs on one of the strings with his teeth. His hands go to your waist pulling you close gently, half sure of himself and half afraid. Hoseok is always somehow half afraid. Is this allowed? Is this wanted?

He rests his head against your stomach, loosely twining his arms around your waist to pull you closer, still loose enough that you can step away if you want. All of this can stop if you don’t want it. He hopes you know that.

Hoseok looks down at your feet, not at your face. “I love it when you wear my clothes. I really don't know where that came from.”

“Careful,” you say, a grin in your voice. Your tone light because you don't want him to smell so sour again. “I’m gonna go for your pants next.”

You snatch his from the floor and dart away. Nothing excites an alpha’s instincts like a chase, and Hobi feels the fire light down his spine. His movements are a hunt-heavy blur. Brain honed in on you.

He catches you by the counter, your giggle echoing off the high ceilings. His blood heating again as he drags you by your hips and flops down into one of the bar stools, sitting you on top of him with a growl.

His hands grip hard around your waist, determined until he’s shy. Letting you go softly, “Sorry I just-”

“Instincts still? Don't worry I get it.” You give him his pants and sit up off his lap so that he can put them on. And now is not the time to get another boner Hobi- but it’s kind of hard not to when you smell so bred, so wholly satisfied.

Hobi did that. Hobi's the one who made you look like this drowning in the afterglow.

Your own instincts are telling you that you want to take the blankets from the couch and drag them upstairs, and tuck them in around the scents of the others. So that they can all see and smell how good you made your alpha feel.

Hoseok’s pleasure leaves an undercurrent to the air that’s intoxicating. Half sugar-sweet and musky alpha. Your body hums with it as he steps up close behind you, close enough you can feel his warmth and not his body, nose skimming the bruise he left close to your mating mark. Letting out a tired sigh.

You did just work off a lot of energy, regardless of the half-nappy half-cuddle fucking that just was; It's also left you fucking hungry.

As much as the kitchen has been a place of anxiety for you it really isn’t with Hobi there. There is still that tape line on the floor that guards you off from the stove, sink, and the fridge. Hobi steps out from behind you and goes to the fridge, getting out some of the prepped fruit that Yoongi almost always keeps on hand.

But you keep looking at the kitchen, the pans hanging above the sink, your mixer sitting dusty in the corner. The hanging mugs. Everything.

He brings it to you, setting it down in front of where you sit. instincts making his eyes fever bright. He watches a little too intently as you lift a raspberry to your mouth. Something about watching you eat cools his instincts, making him release a taught breath.

He watches as you lift another piece, a blackberry to your lips and bite down. Almost purring, too afraid of what might slip out if he speaks. He half wants to do it himself and feed you from his fingertips. But that’s a little too embarrassing to consider.

A minute later, after you’ve eaten half a dozen more pieces, he reaches past you, about to get a piece of peach. He doesn't think anything of it, but when he reaches past your face- you flinch.

It happens so quick that he almost doesn’t even catch it. One second your cheek is turned straight and the next your eyes are darting from him to the bowl. Scent souring with fear and memories from Geumjae.

Fuck. (No cuz actually- fuck Geumjae.)

You don’t look at him with fear, you just look at him with a strange sort of sadness in your eyes. Sorry. Like you’re sorry for being scared. hoseok's hand goes tight on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

Hobi sits down. Holds your hands in his, and waits for a second before he speaks. makes his words quiet and gentle because anger at someone dead and gone has no place here.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You have nice hands, warm where they press into his. And he cradles them, your knuckles flexing vaguely in his grasp, gentle but commanding.

“You’ll try not to, you mean."

You smile at him sadly. Hobi’s chest is tight with it. He needs you to know how much he means those words. How much he needs to mean them. But you both know how hard it is to promise that.

"No. I mean I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.” He repeats. You smile at him sadly again. And he knows his brief anger earlier when you touched his sweatshirt- usually such a normal thing for you- didn't escape you at all. But grief and mourning and memory always finds you at the worst times; after first times and on sunny winter afternoons.

The two of you are a mess, bodies teeming with the memories of failed loves, lost and broken. But you can ignore your triggers; such innocuous things as you wearing his sweatshirt and him reaching past your face. You can ignore your memories; the wretched and rotten ones, just for today.

You let the heavy moment pass and look at the other side of the kitchen. Hobi’s chest feels tight with something. Something that he needs to say but can’t just yet. You can only tell someone you love them for the first time once. You don’t get a second chance.

Hobi just wants to get it right.

You’re looking at the kitchen that Yoongi made for you, holding his hand still. using the other to feed yourself more fruit.

(Is there anything more intimate than holding hands with someone? It feels like more than the pads and lines of his fingers are pressed to yours. soul to soul and palm to palm. The future is written out right there but you ignore it. Love line, health line, fate. But the two of you are dedicated to writing your own end. Your love line is exactly the same length as his, not a millimeter longer).

Hoseok’s chest is still all tight. “What are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t made anything in months.” You sigh, sad. “I want to. I used to love baking, I used to-” you break off, sorrow making you quiet.

Hobi’s eyes are fixed on your shoulder. There are freckles there. He’s not sure why he’s never noticed them before or that you’ve got them dotting your back.

Hobi swallows past something in his throat. Pushing you gently from your chair until you're standing next to him. Cupping your waist because now that he's started touching you it's hard to stop. Now that he knows he’s allowed to touch you so casually, so affectionately, he going to keep doing it.

“Go. I’ll watch you, make sure you stay safe.” Because that’s the rule, isn’t it? Not that you can’t be in the kitchen at all, just that you need someone there to keep you safe.

The words feel tight in his throat, not easily said. I love you. He thinks as he watches you move to the mixer with a small but pretty smile that looks like daisies have taken root on your skin, everything sweet and flowering.

I love you. He thinks as he watches you get your cookbook from behind the mixer. I love you he thinks when he watches you place a mug from that morning in the sink. I love you he thinks as you get the sugar, the vanilla, the salt. He has to get up and get the flour for you, unwilling to have your arms strain underneath the heavy container, doting on you just because he can.

Just because he wants to, just because he loves you.

The shadow of what’s left on the bag hits his dark clothes like a ghostly outline when he holds it. The flour is a bit like you; everywhere he touches it leaves an impression. The rainbows from his suncatcher you put in the kitchen shift with the angle of the sunlight, winking out one by one as dusk falls.

He sits at the kitchen island and watches as you hum and flick through your recipe book. Golden hour fades to orange and pink the same way that roses fade.

He’s not sure why he blurts it out, why he asks, “What’s your favorite?”

You look up from your cookbook, everything is set out but still, the recipe is undecided. “What?”

Hobi can not look at you for this, instead looks at the kitchen island and the old butcher block countertop. Fingers toying along the edge where a knife left a gash.

“You always make everyone else’s favorites; Namjoon’s honey cakes, coffee-flavored things for Jin, the vegan stuff for Jungkook you know- but-” his eyes flick up to you in a moment of bravery. “What’s yours? What's your favorite?”

You think for a moment, a kitchen apart, fingers tapping on the countertop and Hobi can’t take his eyes off of you. His body feels a little achy but in that ‘was just fucked good’ sort of way that makes his breath deeper. Quieting some alpha part of him that always wants a little more. A little more scenting, a little more validation, a little more attention.

But everything can wait.

“My favorite thing to eat or my favorite thing to make?”

“Both. Either.” You glance at the clock. Going to the pantry for a second to double-check that you have everything you'll need. “I’ll have to make some of it from scratch but-" you look at him. “Do you have time?”

Hobi nods. “As long as you need.”

Hobi watches as you measure out the flour and sift it. Hobi watches as you wait for the eggs to get to room temperature and fucks with the playlist. His phone will eventually get splashed with coco but- it’s okay.

All of this is okay, all of this is I love you I love you I love you and I don’t know what to do with all of it, can you take someone it, please. I don’t have enough space in my body to hold all of it. Hoseok doesn’t speak for how sheer the impulse is just to blurt it out.

The yellow plastic mixing bowl keeps clattering against the counter as you stir the egg yolks until they froth up and fizz. Pouting you turn your eyes to him. “Can you help?”

Hoseok has to swallow back the words before they slip past. Hopping up a little too quickly. “Yeah of course.”

You don’t tell him what you’re making, let him guess. So many of your recipes need egg whites and vanilla. You let him put it together on his own. Hobi doesn’t peek at your recipe book and spoil the surprise.

Every action, every spoonful of sugar is I love you too, just say it. You don’t talk about the sex you just had and you don’t say I love you to him. You wait for him to say it first. You don’t say a thing besides; “Just a half teaspoon of that; drizzle it a little at a time, or else it clumps together. Good.” Hobi’s cheeks heat with every bit of praise and you have a lot of it for him.

Hobi looks away when you look up from the bowl, oh so carefully folding the batter and egg whites together. So gently that the hiss and bubble of whipped egg yolks disintegrating is hardly audible.

Hobi hasn’t baked since he was a kid; since he got into his head that chocolate chip cookies were totally something that an eight-year-old should be able to make on their own without adult supervision and almost burned his parents’ apartment to the ground. He tells you the story and you laugh.

He can tell that you’re making adjustments as you go. Adding in a bit of cinnamon, piping off the cookies in neat little lines, and then tapping them oh so carefully to get rid of the bubbles.

The stove preheats and then the tray goes in, filling the room with your scent. That cakey baking aroma that has him resting his head back against the cabinets when you sit on the floor and greedily breathing in.

You wait the 30 minutes like that, sitting on the floor between the cabinets and stove. Your feet pressed to his knees and a glass of lemonade between the two of you.

“You really like baking,” he says, and your eyelashes flutter, you must be getting tired. He takes your feet into his lap, using his hand to massage up your calf. Smiling when you sigh.

“Yeah, it makes me feel- I don’t know. I like making the world sweeter, just a little. Even if it’s just my little corner of it. Making things you guys like makes me happy too.”

“You know, you could go to culinary school if you wanted.” Hobi gets a little shy because you hadn’t explicitly told Jin and Namjoon not to tell anyone about your plans or your application (still pending). It will be a few more weeks until you find out, but that change is just on the horizon.

He's already seen Jimin perusing expensive leather bookbags and has overseen a recommendation letter coming from Namjoon’s email. Hobi might have read it for him to double-check because Hobi always notices things the others might gloss over. Jin and Tae had given it proof read too.

You make a noise in your throat, halfway between a hum in approval and a hum in distaste. “I don’t know, it seems like- a lot to do for a hobby.”

Hobi and you are the only two in the pack who wanted to go to college but didn’t. Couldn’t in your case because Geumjae wouldn’t let you and flunked out in his. He gets the lack of clarity in your voice; to go back or not go back. To try again or not try at all and not worry about whether or not you’re enough.

“I already started applying anyway. Namjoon and Jin and Tae put a lot of effort into helping me apply and-” You let out a frustrated sigh.

Hobi shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. You can change your mind.” There is always time. You tap your toes against his shins and he grabs your feet and you jerk, ticklish. And he almost almost gives in to the urge to tell you he loves you right then and there.

“But could you be happy? Doing this all the time?” You turn, putting your hand over your eyes to peer into the oven and make sure that the ladyfingers are rising properly. “Doing it every day? Would it make you happy?”

You pause, hand on the door before replying in a small voice. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could be happy.”

You stand with a crack of your knees, sticking out your hand for Hobi and almost falling into him when he truly uses your hand to help himself up.

“Come on, we’ve got to make the whipped cream next-”

It goes like that, you both talking, and Hobi fucking with the playlist. Thinking three little words and not saying them.

You let the ladyfingers cool for a few minutes while you make the expresso. Dunking them in quickly. Piping out the honey-flavored whipped cream in sticky little dollops. Shaking out the cocoa with a practiced hand.

You make the caramel for the top last. Sugar-burning, glass-like little strands on top for a bit of crunch.

The tiramisu is a delicate creation, the layers perfectly spaced out in just the right ratio of cream to chocolate. You let it sit for a second in the fridge and when you take it out, you cut it into a single perfect little square and put it on a plate for him. Treading over the blue painter’s tape line and lingering by him where he sits.

“Try it.” You ask and he does obediently.

Hobi takes a bite of it, rolling the flavors around his tongue while you watch. You haven’t cut a piece for yourself just yet, but you have a fork. You stand on the other side of the kitchen island and take a bite from the other corner of the pan, humming happily when the taste hits your tongue.

It really is your favorite. You grin at the plate, “I could finish this whole thing in one sitting.”

Hobi takes another bite. It’s really good, the flavors are simple but delicate, each of them identifiable but yet cohesive. He could eat all of it too.

Hoseok swallows and realizes why it's your favorite; It tastes like all of you- like the pack.

The honey whipped cream is Jin and Jungkook, and the chocolate cocoa on top is your mate; dark chocolate like an Oreo cookie. Hobi thinks it might not be normal cocoa. The homemade ladyfingers are soaked through with Namjoon's coffee and the cake itself is a delicate dance of Tae’s cinnamon, Jimin’s vanilla, and your scent too. Buttery and yummy.

He's finished half of what's on his plate before he realizes that you added the crunchy layer on top, the caramel too.

That’s Hobi isn’t it? The Burnt sugar sweetness. He knows that’s not typical but still, you added in anyway. The smell of caramel is thick in the air. Sweet sweet sweet. Hobi always smells the sweetest when he’s falling in love.

The tiramisu tastes like the whole pack. Like love soaked threw. Hobi’s heart and body is full of it.

He thinks this might be his favorite too.

Hobi tries to blink back the wetness, really tries not to cry as he takes another big bite. He gets a little bit of whipped cream on his lip, licking it and sniffling. You pause, a bite hovering between the plate and your mouth before you set down your fork with a clink.

“Oh Hobi”

The space between you is nothing more than air as you quickly head around the kitchen island. You cup both of his cheeks and he sags into the touch, hands instantly going over yours to keep them there. Tears spilling warm and unabated down his cheeks.

Hobi decides right then he is beyond pretending that he doesn’t want it, that he doesn’t want you. Wet cheeks and imploring eyes.

“Oh Hoseok, what’s wrong?”

You’re standing between his legs and your collarbone rests against his cheek. Your hand runs through his hair and his heart pulses hard.

"I didn’t mean to make you cry. If this is because-” you trail off. You don’t say that you shouldn’t have had sex earlier because you can’t find it in yourself to regret this even a little bit. But you are sorry for not doing it in a way that didn't make him cry. If that's why he's crying.

“No it’s not that. I just-" Hoseok can hardly speak his mouth is so full of love that it bursts from him before he has a chance to think it through. Sobbing a little as he says it;

"I'm crying because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you.”

Hobi stutters and your hands on his cheeks go firm for a second before they relax. “I love you; I love being around you, I love that you're my best friend and that i get to love you too. I love living in this house with you. I’m crying because for the first time I get it-”

He can’t stop the confession now that it's started, and if he'd just open his eyes he'd get to see your smile but they're screwed shut tight.

“I get it, I get why once Yoongi met you, he couldn’t leave. I understand why he brought you back to us. But-” he hiccups and you giggle a little at the sound. His eyes shoot open and he realizes that you're crying too- that you haven't stepped away. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs and grin down at him.

“I'm so fucking afraid too- I can’t help but feel like the way we started just- fucked everything up. I fucked everything up back then by being jealous. I look at you and I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”

You hold his face in your hands and think; I will be gentle with you, I will be gentle with you even if it kills me. You have never loved someone broken like you, and you know how easy it is to make a wrong step. But you’re sure when you say the words anyway.

“You won’t.”

“But-” you kiss his hands, knuckles, fingertips. His forehead, his lips Everything. Your eyes are focused and Hobi can’t look away.

“You won’t, you promised not to hurt me and you won’t.”

He falls silent, and you pull him in close. His lips still tingle from your kiss and you kiss him again, long and lingering, hard with the force of your conviction. It tastes like tiramisu.

When you break apart, Hoseok rests his ear on your heart and listens.

You should say I love you back, you really should return the words. But you think there will be other moments to say them. You'll say it when you wake up with him tomorrow morning, you'll say it when you fall asleep tonight curled close to him. There will be more time to say them- during a late-night drives when you look over at him in the dark. There are always going to be more times to say it and you’ll say it and mean it every time.

Unfortunately, life isn't so neat and tidy.

You wipe his cheeks and he wipes yours and you both giggle, leaning into each other. You get him a tissue for his nose and start laughing all over again. Being with Hobi will always be like this, half your lover and half your best friend.

“Do you want to go on a drive later, only,” you wipe tears from your own eyes, “want to take the others this time?”

He smiles, “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He tries to pull you in for another kiss but you feed him a bite of tiramisu instead and it gets half on his cheek, “finish your cake alpha,” you command, and Hobi is perilous to disobey. the next bite you take ends up on your cheek too because he tickles you, and you blush when he leans forward to lick it off your cheek. All giggly and happy and close. You sat practically on the edge of the counter. Noodle meows and laps up some of it from the floor.

You don’t need to say I love you back, you already have. Hobi can taste it on the edge of every bite.

You cut him another piece and share it this time, and he can't stop looking at you, can't stop smiling.

You smile around a mouthful, "i'm gonna tear up that train ticket."

"Don't you fucking dare. We've gotta like- put it in a scrap book or something."

You clean up the tiramisu, thinking of what might happen when the pack gets back, thinking of how things will go now that you’ve settled this. They’ll be happy; all of you all together finally. This last piece of your little family finally falling into place.

Maybe it will go like this:

Maybe when the pack gets home, there will not just be tiramisu on the counter. Maybe there will be gluten-free lemon bars and honey cakes. Chocolate ginger cookies dusted with powdered sugar and freshly baked bread with cheese and garlic. Little personal cheesecakes that you made in a muffin tin dotted with jam preserve because now that you’ve started to bake again there might not be anything to stop you.

You already feel the urge in your hands, the urge to make things. You think it might have been learned from Yoongi.

Maybe they’ll come home with pizza, unsure if a party and alcohol is really the proper way to go about celebrating, but the cake from the bakery that Tae will buy as a joke, will have flowery lettering and “congrats for losing your Hobi-ginity"

It will make you laugh until your lungs ache like the fireworks have gone off. Will make him blush and rub the back of his neck in shyness.

When they come home there might be a few sly comments but the pack knows when to tease and when not to. Maybe Namjoon will take a hearty sniff at Hoseok’s throat, dragging it up and down the nape of his neck, huffing happily. (Namjoon has always been a little bit possessive of Hoseok the same way Jin has always been possessive of you, but that's pack alpha's for you).

Tae will tuck your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the mark he left on your throat, manicured fingers gently stroking over it. and Yoongi will shoot him a challenging look and drawl, "really daisy? is this really something you wanna start?" all playful. the way yoongi only gets when he's really really happy.

And when Jin gets home, Maybe he’ll drag you over his lap with some squirming because there is no avoiding this hole check. Not when Jin and the others have been waiting.

Under the hungry eyes of the rest of the pack, you would still squirm. Your mate watching and grinning as he nibbles a piece of pizza and just watches as Jin pulls your sleep shorts down to your knees. Leaving them there to pin your thighs together. Hand against the small of your back to keep you still.

Of course, the pack omega has to look after the two of you and make sure the lowest on the hierarchy is being safe without a stronger presence nearby. But your entrance is pink fucked warm, not red and inflamed. Hoseok’s knot is the perfect thing to warm you up, and Jin tugs his sweatshirt over your hips to keep you warm as he examines you.

Fingers drag your entrance apart to show the others how good hobi did. Prompting them to touch and feel for themselves, all of their fingers teasing at your entrance and all of them touching you. Tae and Jungkook holding your thighs, Jimin and Namjoon resting their hands on your ass to help jin hold you open better and yoongi prodding to feel-

They'd want to see his cum slip out, forced from your hole by your needy clench. Of course, they'd just fuck it back inside because not a drop can go to waste. one set of fingers and then another, jungkook leaning down to taste.

Jin’s eyes would be all dark eyes and honey tones, looking hoseok up and down, cheeks as red as the sweatshirt you wear. His praise makes Hobi feel just a little bit too proud for his own good.

Hobi would probably get a knot-check for that, because if the alpha has something to be proud of then surely the others need to check his ego (and only in the way that hobi likes).

The alphas would scuffle with him a little, wrestling to settle him. Hobi's instincts are still fever bright and he needs to be put in his place. To feel the pack for what they are; very necessary safety bumpers.

He'd go so easily after a few nips- Jimin would help pull his pants down so Namjoon could get his big hands around him, fingers teasing at the red skin around his base and making Hobi growl and gasp. Pausing to cup lower and make sure Hoseok's empty, that he didn't hold back breeding you. Tae would tutt and make him open his mouth, her finger teasing along his teeth just for shits and giggles. Just to make him groan.

Nothing makes an alpha more proud than getting to show off his teeth.

Jin would smile at the display, and croon. “Good alpha.”

Maybe Jin will pat your pussy lips softly before pulling your pants up, making you flinch and then relax and jungkook would bend down to give Hoseok's knot a little kiss before standing.

The whole thing would take maybe 5 minutes but it would leave the whole pack ravenous for more. The final evidence of this finally happening; all of you together and not fragmented.

As you should be, together.

Maybe later, after treats and pizza, you'll all get to go to the beach like Hobi promised. Two separate cars. And Namjoon might let Hoseok and Jimin do donuts in the empty parking lot without too much fuss. The smell of tires and gasoline ripping.

Jungkook whooping and Yoongi watching on with his grin, Jin in the back seat with you going “Oh- oh hope- slow down” looking a little green. But terrorizing the pack omega is kind of your job.

It’s cold and late at night but you’ll tear out across the sand. Running to the shore. Tossing your shoes into the dark and toeing into the waves. Yelling happy.

You and Hobi will try and throw Yoongi into the water and then the other alphas will actually succeed in throwing Namjoon, pushing him until he inevitably tumbles into the seafoam. All 7 of you will try and wrangle Jungkook into the same wet fate and fail.

Jin will tuck Namjoon’s wet hair back behind his ear and grin at him, his grin saying the words they don’t need to. Kisses tases like secrets and salt but that much has not changed. Might never change when it comes to the eight of you. All the secrets in the world couldn’t keep you apart.

You’ll get zoomy in the way that dogs get in wide-open spaces. You’ll run. Your feet slapping against the sand, tossing spray into the air as high as your laughter, chasing after each other. A bunch of barefoot kids in too-big bodies and sand between your toes. Hands clasped tight in each other’s so that you won’t let go. You won’t ever let go now that you've found them.

For once you'll be absent of all the things that drag you down. Lighter than the warm air that billows over the sea. Mouths that store special secret salty smiles for the better. Damp fingers that curl against warm wrists. holding onto each other tight even though you’re running and running-

Running.

Maybe.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, what happens is this;

You are sitting at the kitchen counter when Hobi gets a text. It’s from Jungkook asking about the pizza types that you’d want and

Yoongi’s left his phone, he says with a little 👀 emoji. But he won’t truly tease the both of you until he gets home. Of course Yoongi was too distracted by you and Hobi post coitous to grab it from the other room.

you to to the pantry to put away the flour and this close- you can hear another phone ring from the bathroom. It's it yours? Only No, it's not your phone sitting on the counter, but Yoongi’s. Lighting up with Jin’s contact information.

JinJinJin: 5 missed calls.

It's so like your mate to leave his phone in such a random place. You smile as you pick up.

Jin is already talking a mile a minute. Fear and panic make his words come quick and desperate.

“Yoongi- why the fuck didn't you pick up" You don't have time to respond. Don't have time to let him know it's not your mate but you that picked up the phone.

"I don’t know how the fuck it happened, I don’t know- but-“ he’s almost shouting over the phone, such raw panic in his voice that it has your body going frozen.

Jin lets out a broken sobbing breath.

"I shot Minnie.”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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Notes:

I ended up editing out a good portion of Hoseok ’s inner monologue at the begining, because I realized that at that point in time with the other pack he wouldn’t have been thinking stuff about how terrible it was because it wasn’t terrible yet. i probably should have even edited it fluffier if we're being honest. i think that would have been more unsettling.

The line where she says “One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.” Is a little hard to explain, she’s not thinking about Yoongi in that moment but the person she associates the most with love is Yoongi so- yeah it made sense. I feel like this line might make people go a little like “what??”

I swear if you guys didn’t cry a little at the ‘It doesn’t hurt at all.’ Parts I’m not doing this right because I was SOBBING.

Listen, I almost edited out the line where he calls her pussy an inside joke so many times- but for me- when I was younger I always wanted to be a part of inside jokes because like- if you are that means you’ve got history with someone- Hoseok is thinking this because until this moment- he hasn’t been able to be apart of something that the rest of the pack had understood.

When Hoseok was leaving a hickey over her mating mark it’s his way of saying “this is mine too 😠” to Yoongi,

Honestly??? Why is Hobi so feral in this like- he’s a /little/ unhinged from how much he wants her and tbh it’s fair. Look away if you don’t wanna read him going APESHIT for her.

ALSO- I’m just imagining him on the walk with jungkook and Tae, cheeks slowly pinking up because he can feel that they’re having sex down the mating bond, maybe getting hard and the others noticing, both of them plastering themselves along his side and teasing him with words like “do you think he’s making her all wet and messy hyung? Do you think she’s gonna cream around his cock like she creams around yours?” and Yoongi just- endlessly suffering around the two horndogs that are Tae on estrogen and jungkook on a regular day.

The moment where they’re holding hands and it’s talking about palmistry is a refrence to noah kahan’s song everywhere everything and the line “it’s been a long year, in all of our books pages dog eared, we write out the ends on our palms dear, and forget to read.”

The worst worst worst part about this chapter is that I don’t??? have a fucking recipe for the tiramisu?? Like I’ve made it before but I’ve never made honey flavored whipped cream or put caramel on top 🥺 maybe I’ll test it out one dayand update this chapter

Okay so the ‘flash into the improbable future at the end is a little too horny for the end of smutt but I couldn’t just /not/ put it in there because you know how I love a good hole check scene.

do you hate me because of this cliffhanger? even i have to say its a little unforgivable.

please be patient for next chapter because i do not have A SINGLE fucking word written for it. like nada, we're starting from scratch come monday.

~-~

Hobi's sex Playlist (jk isn't not a sex playlist)

Dominic fike- Mama's boy (hobis' flashback)

Mitski – my love mine all mine. (yoongi telling him to be good)

Lana del ray – chemtrails over the country club. (the sex)

Olivia Rodrigo – can’t catch me now (when they're both triggered from the respective abusive relationships)

Tom o’dell – black Friday. (Juz cuz)

[thatoneoldguy]

How I Think Characters Would Be Like In Bed ig

An: I don't write often, but I hope I can do some of your favs justice💀 (mostly One Piece)

🔞MDNI🔞

CW: kinda smut, Headcanons

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Degrades the shit out of you because it makes you feel good:

"Ah fuck take it baby"

"Take it like the good little whore you are"

Trafalgar Law, Satoru Gojo, Geto Suguru, Roranoa Zoro, SABO, Nami, Nanami Kento, Aki Hayakawa, Tengen uzui, Portgas D Ace, Smoker, Shanks, Mihawk, BUGGY, Franky, Katakuri, Marco The Phoenix, Silvers Rayleigh, Yamato, Bell-mere, Koby (he would probably be too embarrassed unless he's feeling extra confident)

Degrades the shit out of you because it makes THEM feel good:

"Yeah? You fucking like that whore?"

"Fucking slut, take it all"

Donquixote Doflamingo, Douma, Sukana, Geto Suguru, Muzon, Crocodile, Ceaser Clown, Eustass Kid, Monet,

Mostly Grunts and Breathes Heavily:

Mihawk, Katakuri, Marco the Phoenix

Gentle Praises/whines Here and there:

"Yeah, just like that baby"

"You feel too damn good"

"you're so sexy"

Nico Robin, Sabo, Nanami Kento, Kyojuro Rengoku, Donquixote Rosinante, Shanks, Garp, Smoker, Buggy, Mihawk, Vivi Nefertari, Franky, God Usopp, Katakuri, Silvers Rayleigh, Yamato, Bartolomeo, Viola, Tashigi, Bell-mere, Koby

Absolutely over the top with moans and praises:

"God you're so fucking sexy"

"Oh fuck I love you so much"

"Please baby I need more of you~"

SANJI, ACE, Satoru Gojo, Buggy, Bartolomeo, KOBY

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

(These are all just my personal opinions on the characters) Thank you for your time 🙏

I'll probably add to this later, but for now I'm going to sleep <3

[capriciouscapsss]

How Will Your F/S Pursue You♚

Book A Reading With Me 💞

today, as i finish up the last of my readings for the week, i am eager to return just to make another reading talking about how your f/s will pursue you! go ahead and book a reading if you'd like to learn more about your future spouse or don't, whatever's fine 😭 today I'm doing a short reading since again I don't have that much time but I still want to make something cute 💞 with that being said...let's get started 💞💞

we have four piles; intuitively choose the one you're most drawn to. 

Pile I. woman sm*king

[8oS, 9oS, 2oS, KoW, 7oC, the fool, p, s.c]

your person pursues you in a more laidback way. they're very unsure of themselves, most of them not likely to go ahead and pursue you without being sure that you're even in to them in the first place. they're quite shy. i can see them being the type of people that only stare at you when they know you're not watching. looking at you when you look at something else with a small smile on their face. thinking of you constantly. asking themselves if you like them or not. they might even be in a state of unrest, a will they won't they type of thing when it comes to pursuing you.

once they know though...then they change. they start acting different. start carrying themselves with more confidence. they start joking about so much lmao, almost like since they know that you're reciprocating their energy they feel comfortable enough to show you their true selves. also the type that feels that, after knowing you like them, will start to fantasize a lot about what could be. like they see you somewhere and they think about you for hours after.

pursuing you would be them being super shy at first, acting like you're not there. and then once they start getting the vibe that you're feeing them as well, that's when they start vibing more. being spontaneous, saying stuff that'll catch you off guard. being more possessive, grabbing at your waist or simply just letting people know that there's something going on between you both.

now please understand, these people will mess up. they might not say the right thing or do the right thing all the time. in fact, i think the f/s of this pile will be the one that messes up the most. they're not that experienced in the area of love, but one thing i will tell you is that having them pursue you is chaotic and funny but most of all warm.

Pile II. lonely in a movie theater

[the emperor, 4oW, KoS, Justice, 10oC, 10oS]

smooth talker fr. someone who knows how to worm their way into the heart of who they're talking to. i feel like they like to talk about the future. when you both are together they might look at random stuff and tell you to think of both of you doing those things together. they make themselves appear bigger too lmao like a peacock showing off their feathers.

also, things will get a little dark for a second so bare with me but, they're not people who know what happiness exactly is. they don't have a good picture of a happy healthy relationship.

that's why they seem to chase it with such vigor. they want what they've never had. they've likely grown up around people with silver tongues, people that can say exactly what you want to hear. might even be a fan of baby talk or just sweetening their words a lot. i also feel like that your person might highlight your differences to them a great deal. for ex. if they have dark hair and you have light hair you'll hear them say "if we have kids, i want them to have your hair"

being with you will also put them out of their comfort zone, like finding out that their words can also be met with actions. their words speaking of their future with you and their actions making sure no one tries to get with you in order to make it happen. telling you your attractive and making sure they show you off at the same time.

Pile III. riding a motorcycle

[PoW, 9oP, 2oW, AoP, AoC,Strength]

a definite gift giver. like this is giving me taurus/2nd house venus energy. someone that doesn't know how to love in words or actions but they're definitely good gift givers. they're very romantic. whether it be a small gift or a big one they're definitely going to deliver.

they like showing you their idea of what a better life could be at their side. might like taking you on trips fully paid. they have moneyyy. i imagine them taking you to a vacation spot and telling you about this plate on the menu that they love but you haven't tried; they're going to do all they can to make sure you try it as well. even if it means you ordering two plates lmao.

also i believe that they could win you over by just being there for you. supporting you, making sure that you're well cared for. loving you even in the hardest of times. they'd like to also act like they were hurt in order for you to take care of them lmao.

probably likes teasing you and commenting on how much you love him more. how you're the one who's fallen hopelessly in love all whilst knowing that they're the one that's fallen hard. might be a little more on the dramatic side lmao, think wattpad king falling for the calm and collected wallflower.

Pile IV. riding in the passenger seat

[AoW, 9oS, 8oS, 2oC, The Fool, QoP]

a mess in a heart shaped bottle. they don't know how to act. they're the type of people that change tactics easily. one moment they're totally going to go for it and the next they don't know how to approach you correctly.

they're Katy Perry's "Hot and Cold" personified. like they remind me a bit of Stiles from Teen wolf. they can be the type of person that feels like they have a 15 year plan then just like he did, they throw caution to the wind and ditch all that for a chance to talk to you. their way of coming to you is from all angles and from no where all at once. acts like they have no interest and then they forget about all that and they're professing love to you.

they'll behave very weirdly lmao. i mean i can imagine them going to you and telling you about their plans with you. trying to win you over slowly. taking you on dates. treating you with care and respect. being careful to not even touch you LMAO and then i can see them forget about all that and just be spontaneous. taking you on last minute adventures, calling you out of the blue. stuff like that.

will get crazy if they find out someone's trying to steal you from them but they also love the chase. love knowing that you're into them but almost acting coy? I can also see them approaching you as a friend at first. Aquarius vibes? but with a stable purpose. so aqua and taurus mixed.

[targaryenimagines]

The Khaleesi’s Queen

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,559

Summary:

Warnings: G!P Daenerys, slightly rough (and possessive) sex, oral (R!Receiving).

Author’s Note: Changed up the prompt, which I hope is okay! I decided to still keep the screenshot though as I did get the rest of the idea for this snippet due to it. Tried to figure it out the first way, but I wasn’t doing it any justice in the slightest. I suppose this can be seen as a continuation of My Khaleesi, but it can be a stand-alone too. (This is told mainly through Dany’s POV, if you’d like me to make a partner through the Reader’s just let me know!)

“Do you take me as some sort of fool, Councilor?”

The question is asked in an airy tone, one that a person would use when making a remark about the weather or the coming crop season, but the fiery undercurrent, like iron piercing through the sky, kept the man it was directed to in place. Violet eyes locked on dark brown, a message clear within them: Speak. Now. I’m running out of patience.

“O-Of cou-course not, Your Majesty,” the man stumbles, trying to alleviate the situation. “I-I just wished to tell y-you what your ancestors used t-to do.”

A sneer works itself across a beautiful face. “Yes,” she drawls, disgust clear in her tone. “But those same ancestors didn’t have the bond I do with my son.” Rising from her chair, Daenerys pins the cowering man in place with her gaze. “What will you have me do, Councilor? Have sex with my queen on the back of my son’s back in hopes of creating another?” She takes another measured step closer. “Do you think I’m unaware of what’s being said about me? That I’m oblivious to the gossip and rumors being spread?” Daenerys is a mere five feet from the man now. “Everyone within the Seven Kingdoms knows about my bond with my children, but you choose to council me into doing something that’d be sacrilegious in their eyes? That’d create even more discord within the land?”

Daenerys pauses then, tilting her head as she surveys the cowering man— from his balding head down to his recently polished shoes— and her gaze darkens further.

“So, I have to ask, do you take me for a fool?” She reiterates. “Because you must if you think I wouldn’t question you or your motives.”

He shakes his head, practically throwing himself at his Queen’s feet. “I-I swear to you, Your Majesty, I’m just a lo-lowly scholar. Ju-Just trying to help.” Fear weasels its way down his spine when he felt her lean closer to him. “I-I swear it.”

A breathy chuckle echoes across the room, barren of any form of amusement. “Oh? You swear it?” Crouching down, Daenerys forces the man to look into violet eyes. “I must believe you then.”

Snapping her fingers, the shadows around the edges of the room come to life as figures clad in obsidian black step from them, silver spears glinting under the light.

“Grey Worm.” The Captain of the Queensguard steps forward, back dutifully straight. “Nādīnagon zirȳla.”

At once Grey Worm, and another Unsullied, step forward and clasp the now begging man under his armpits and begin dragging him from the room. His cries for mercy falling on deaf ears: “N-No. Ple-Please, Your Majesty! Don’t do this. Please.”

Dark oak doors close with a resounding bang, cutting off his pleading.

Silence settles once more over the office, save for the faint crashing of waves against the surf outside and the cries of gulls. If Daenerys closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was back in Essos. Back when things were simple but infinitely more complex. Settling back into her high-backed seat, Daenerys lets loose a soft sigh.

“Did you just have that man executed for telling you something you didn’t wish to hear?” A teasing voice breaks through the silence, the warm cadence of it bringing a smile to Daenerys’ lips. Looking down, she’s met by the sparkling gaze of her wife. “Or did you have that man executed for interrupting us?”

Huffing out a laugh, filled to the brim with adoration, Daenerys pulls you from your kneeling position, placing her hands on your hips once you’re comfortably straddling her. “I didn’t have him executed, ñuha perzys.” She places a delicate kiss to the corner of your lips. “I just wanted to have him leave my presence in a timely manner.”

You nuzzle closer to her. “And to do that you had to scare him? Are you certain it has nothing to do with his untimely entrance?” Wiggling on her lap, Daenerys has to bite back a groan as your familiar weight bears down on her growing erection. One that had found its home in your mouth a mere twenty minutes before— only to be unceremoniously ripped out when the man had knocked, requesting an immediate audience. “I know how you get when certain things don’t go your way.”

“Careful,” Daenerys warns, nipping at your exposed neck. Delighted in the way your breath hitches at the slightest bit of pressure to the small area underneath your jaw. “It’s not polite to tease your Queen.”

Rocking your hips more, you quip back. “It’s a good thing you’re not my Queen then.” Dipping your head, you press a heated kiss to her lips, groaning when her hardness hits just the right spot through her tailored pants. “You will always be my Khaleesi.”

The sound of the title, the first one she had ever truly earned, falling so sweetly from your lips, when the taste of you was still heavy on her tongue, brings a small snarl forth from deep within her chest, rumbling out across the relative stillness of the room. Standing, Daenerys grips you tightly by the waist and deposits you on her desk, uncaring of the various baubles that fall off due to the action. She easily finds her home between your thighs, pressed flush to your beautiful form.

“A Khaleesi is very different from a Queen,” Daenerys purrs, pressing another heated kiss to your lips. Running her tongue against the bottommost one, a husky sound of contentment being made when you let her gain access to the warm heat of your mouth. Fighting for dominance, one that she easily wins, Daenerys plunders further into your mouth, running her tongue along the roof of it, savoring the taste of you. Once she starts to become impeded by the lack of air, she pulls back and nearly comes undone at the wanton expression across your face— kiss swollen lips, lust darkened eyes, a delicate sheen of sweat along your brow. Exquisite. “A Khaleesi takes without question. A Khaleesi is rough, making sure her claim is known, but a Queen is soft, gentle.” Driving her hips into you, Daenerys snarls. “Are you certain you want a Khaleesi instead of a Queen?”

Throwing your arms around her, Daenerys is pressed firmly down, both your fronts flushed together. “Yes,” you hiss, nails digging into her shoulders. “I want my Khaleesi to claim me. To show me that I’ll only ever belong to her.” Your hips cant once more, trying desperately to get some friction. “Show me what a Westerosi Queen could never accomplish.”

At the mere thought of you being claimed by another, at anyone else having the privilege of seeing you come undone, Daenerys’ world view narrows to only you, only bringing you pleasure, so that you’d never think about leaving her.

She’d turn this world into nothing but fire and ash before she’d ever let that happen.

Nostrils flaring due to the possessive fire roaring within her chest, Daenerys takes in the delicate symphony of scents that wash over her due to the action: the sweetness of your bath oils mixed with the heady scent of sweat and the musky undertone of your arousal, strong despite the layers that separated her from the source of it.

“Lean back,” she growls, pressing one last deep kiss to your lips before she began to make her way down your body. Nimble fingers tearing at the buttons and fabric that she comes across, tongue and teeth lavishing the newly exposed skin with attention, until you’re lying delicious bare, save the last bit of your smallclothes, across the dark wood of her desk. The sight of your laid open, and waiting, for her brings a jolt of arousal straight through her body, but she didn’t wish to satisfy her own needs. Not yet. For now, she’d remind you that she’d only ever be the one to give you this sort of pleasure, that no one would ever be able to replace her. Daenerys settles onto her knees between your thighs, rubbing her nose lightly across the patch of darkening fabric at the apex of them. “Don’t even think about cumming until I say you can.” Violet eyes rise to meet your own, expression stern. “Do you understand?”

Nodding, almost frantically, you spread your legs further, giving her more room to maneuver within. Taking advantage of the additional space, Daenerys mouths over your soaking center, tongue flexing against the sodden material that kept it covered from her, as her hands clasped your hips to keep you in place. The sound of breathy moans and pleading whines from above her sending a delicious thrill down her spine.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" The question is rhetorical, she doesn't expect you to answer, but the questioning keen in response brings a soft smile to her lips for the briefest of moments. Pressing closer, Daenerys finally tears at the last barrier keeping you from her, the sight, and the scent, of your glistening center causing her own mouth to water in renewed hunger. "I crave you, ñuha perzys. More and more with each passing moment. I crave to bring you as much pleasure as you can withstand." Daenerys places a delicate kiss to your throbbing clit. "I crave your taste." Lowering her head, she dips her tongue teasingly into your entrance, savoring the flavor that could only ever come from you. "I crave the sounds you make as I ruin you."

Without preamble Daenerys buries her head between your thighs, thrusting her tongue as far into you as she could reach, the keening cry of pleasure tearing itself from your lips music to her ears. You pulse around her tongue, inner muscles flexing, as you try to pull her deeper into your depths, the feeling a reminder of how exquisitely tight you always are for her, something that brings another jolt of arousal coursing through her, making Daenerys aware of the throbbing between her own legs. Forcing her thoughts away from her own need, Daenerys consumes you, tongue lashing across your clit before diving back into your slick hole, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as she keeps you in place, despite your clear desire to chase whatever friction you could find. Your desperation for her, the clear need you had for her, almost made her take pity on you, almost allowing her to let you fuck her tongue, but the only thing you'd be cumming on in the near future would be her cock -- nothing more and nothing less.

Taking notice of the heightened pitch of your cries, the growling rasp building within your moans, Daenerys knows that you're close, that you're almost cresting the peak of the pleasure she's giving you, which means, with a small bit of reluctance, Daenerys tears herself away from you, tongue running along her bottom lip, savoring the remnants of you upon it. Your responding whine allows for a satisfied smirk to grace her beautiful face, soothed that you clearly wanted her as much as she wanted you.

Maneuvering quickly, Daenerys didn't have time to deal with all of the buckles that she wore, not to mention her boots, she simply opened her zipper and shoved her tailored pants as far down as they would go, her erection finally free once more, poised to claim what had always belonged to her. Rubbing herself against your wet heat, Daenerys arches a brow. "Do you want this?" It was the last warning she would give you before she claimed her wife completely, as a Khaleesi should. "You still have time to choose your Queen."

With a heaving chest, and narrowed eyes, you spit back. "The only woman I could ever want is my Khaleesi." You hook your legs around her hips, arching against her. "So, fuck me."

Not giving you a chance to rethink your words, not that she believed you would, Daenerys thrusts into her wife, the slick channel greeting her like an old friend, the feel of it causing a deep snarl to rumble from her chest. If she could manage running Westeros from right here, then Daenerys would never leave, but the times that she could make herself at home between your legs once more were that much more important to her when she could manage to find the time -- her devotion to you superseding all else barring the devotion she had to her son.

"Yes," you hiss, nails digging harshly into her clothed back. "It feels so good, Dany. So good."

Lowering her head, Daenerys harshly bites the sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue soothing the burn that no doubt appeared due to the action. "You're so beautiful." She nuzzles against a slightly older mark she had left a few days prior, quickly going to work to make it as fresh as the one she had just left. Slamming with more force into you, delighting in the sharp keen that's torn from your lips, and the way you flutter around her, due to the action, Daenerys finally detaches from your neck. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and you're all mine."

Nodding frantically, you arch against her lithe body. "I will only ever be yours, Dany." Taking her by the face, you press a needy kiss to her lips, all tongue and teeth as you pant against her. Clearly trying to stem off the encroaching orgasm. "I will only ever want you."

"And you'll only ever have me." Legs beginning to burn due to the power behind her thrusts, and the familiar fluttering within her belly, telling her that she wouldn't be able to last that much longer, Daenerys tugs at your bottom lip. "Cum for me, my queen. Cum for your Khaleesi."

As if a switch had a finally been flipped, your body arches completely off the desk, arms and legs slightly spasming, as your inner muscles tighten completely around her, and a fresh wave of wetness coats you both. The feeling coupled with the delicious sight, causes Daenerys to come with her own groan of your name, her hips still softly thrusting as she leads you through the last waves of your own orgasm.

Once you stop shaking, for the most part, Daenerys leans forward and places a delicate kiss to your brow, still firmly planted inside of you, nuzzling against your sweat-stained temple. "You were wonderful, ñuha perzys, but don't think that I've had my fill of you yet." She runs her hands down your sides, rubbing gently across your lower abdomen. "I still have to put my heir in you."

With a delightfully tired smile, you run your fingers through sweat-matted locks, the silvery-gold still looking radiant despite it all. "I love you, Khaleesi."

Violet eyes flutter shut at the title, the affection in which it falls from your lips, warmth suffusing itself within her chest because of it. Cradling your face delicately between her hands, Daenerys confesses. "I love that you still call me that."

You huff out a laugh, pressing a light kiss to her inner wrist. "Even if we're in Westeros now, Dany, you will always be my Khaleesi. No matter what."

"And you," Daenerys replies, adoration clear within her tone and gaze. "Will forever be my darling Queen."

[thesummerestsolstice]

So the Silmaril is *extremely* bright, right? Earendil is next to it all the time. And mortal eyes aren't built for that kind of intense radiance– or for Valinor's light, to that point. Conclusion: either Earendil has been blinded by the Silmaril, or he needs some very serious eye protection to keep his vision intact. Either way, he's probably going to choose to keep his eyes covered. I have some suggestions.

Solid helm. Standard armor, but without eye holes. Probably made out of dragon scales. Good for protection against void monsters, and entirely masks his expression.

Blindfold. Comes in a variety of colors and fabrics, flowy and aesthetically pleasing. Hearkens back to blindfolded depictions of justice, which feels appropriate for him.

Stained glass visor. Shaped a bit like a face shield, but with multiple colors and pieces of glass. A little bit eerie. Pretty, but impractical. Mostly for ceremonial purposes.

Veil. Probably layered for better light protection. For Finwean dramatics and Peredhel gender fuckery. Always waves as if underwater. A personal favorite of Elwing's.

Sick-ass shades. Entirely a-historical. Extremely funny. A gift from Ulmo. Presumably worn to taunt Morgoth in the void.

Bonus inspired by @runawaymun. Many half-elves actually use glasses in their day-to-day lives. Look, elvish and mannish senses work very differently, so Peredhel tend to have some weird sensory stuff as a result of the two mixing. Lightly enchanted glasses are often used to deal with visual issues– you know, sensitivity to light, focusing distance problems, strange and unknowable colors in the corners of your vision, all that. Elrond has a few pairs with really intricate glasses chains that he's gotten as gifts over the years. They are very gender and Elrond loves them dearly.

Photo Credits:

Shades: https://www.fruugonorge.com/rimless-wrap-around-sunglasses-for-women-men-trendy-womens-y2k-sunglasses-oversized-shades-cool-star-fashion-sun-glasses-uv400/p-142701338-301669064?language=en

Glasses Chains: https://daelunejewelry.com/products/silver-stars-glasses-chain

[lunaviee]

can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33

OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..

the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG

okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁

OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭

“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”

chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s

tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…

synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓

RIN ITOSHI—

the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.

after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.

*click*

the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.

“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.

“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”

you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”

his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.

“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.

he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”

“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.

“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.

“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??

“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.

“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”

how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?

“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”

you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.

his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.

“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)

“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”

the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?

“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.

who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.

it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.

“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”

you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh

“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”

“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face

“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.

“yeah, you’re right, thanks”

“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”

“i’ll stay here and bug you more”

“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling

• { time skip - two days later } •

the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.

sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.

your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.

you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.

your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.

“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.

rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.

the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.

that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.

he’d been..crying?

your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.

“i’m sorry” he blurted out

he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.

he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.

“i’m so sorry [name].”

“i know.”

“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”

“i know.”

“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”

he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.

“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.

silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.

“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.

rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.

“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying

“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”

“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”

“i know.”

the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.

“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed

rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.

“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.

[luveline]

Anything with Zombie apocalypse! Peter Parker, like how Peter and reader survive or how they met each other just Anything please

Shuffling, a tired groan. Dragging footsteps. A body drops down next to yours. 

"Hello," he says. "Can't you sit somewhere normal?" 

"Hi, Pete." You point down at the group of your survivors. "She's the one who stole my camera. I know it." 

"What's your evidence?" 

Peter brings a knee up to tuck the bottom of his pants into his socks. It helps stay warm in the cold, as does tucking your shirts in, even if it makes for ugly outfits. You pluck a leaf from his unruly hair. "She was– you know how when someone asks you about something and you know you didn't do it but you try not to sound guilty anyways? She was the only one who stayed casual when I asked." 

"So you think she's guilty because she sounded not guilty?" 

You shake your head in defeat. It's a stupid theory, but it's true. She one hundred percent stole your camera because she's a klepto. "It didn't even have any battery left. She just stole it 'cos she knows it's special to me." 

"Maybe you lost it." He unzips his coat and digs through the front pocket. "Left it behind." 

"I wouldn't have," you sigh. "Trust me. It's the one thing I wouldn't forget." 

Peter pulls a lump from his pocket and offers it to you. "Wouldn't be this, would it?" 

Your camera is small and silver in his hands. It looks foreign. The world grows greener by the day as plant life encroaches the streets and skyscrapers shatter in the bad weather. Technology is everywhere but useless, discarded, cars burned to shells and cell phones dropped useless in gutters and eaves. Your camera doesn't work anymore, powered by eight double AA batteries that are impossible to find out here. 

You take it eagerly, a laugh sneaking out and echoing loud enough to make the others camping down look up at you where you're sitting. "Be careful!" Macy calls. 

"Where did you–?" you ask, shocked.

"It's not classy, but I went through her stuff. After you went to sleep last night I asked around and she was being too calm." 

"I knew it," you say, hugging the camera to your chest. There are photos on here you don't want to lose. One day, when you find batteries, or even luckier a computer that works, you'll get to see them again. "Peter, you don't know what this means to me." 

"It means everything, right?" he asks with a shrug. 

You put it down gently and offer your arms to him. He moves in quickly, almost laughably quickly, but his hug is light and breezy. "I didn't do it for you, I'm all about justice," he says. 

"Yeah?" 

"For sure. The people need a vigilante, right? Now more than ever." 

You kiss his cheek. "You're my hero, Parker." 

"Hey, kids!" someone calls, "Get down here!" 

"I'm twenty one!" Peter shouts back. 

"Come on! We need to go before it gets dark." 

When it's dark, bad things happen. The mutes come out to play. Peter gives your shoulder a last rub before he stands, and together you climb down the crumbling metal steps down to the streets again. "What happens when she notices the camera's gone?" you murmur to him. 

"She didn't have it," Peter says, hand ghosting the small of your back, "so she can't lose it. Right?" 

You offer him a private smile. "Right." 

[dellalyra]

𝐑𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

pixie says: i got him i got hydro daddy so here’s some celebration fluff ft my babies the Melusine’s.

Imagine Neuvillette coming to you, a small box in his hands and a Melusine skipping alongside.

You had been close to the Iudex for a very long time, two of the eldest beings in Fontaine. The Hydro Dragon and the leader of the remaining Naiads were bound together by fate - spirits and embodiments of the nation’s elements. Although he posed now as the Chief Justice, as you as a florist - you maintained that friendship from all that time ago.

However, his arrival at the beach you would always sit on after work with his small companion, Liath - you recognised - was unexpected. The fact he knew where to find you was enough to set your heart alight.

“Madame Y/N, please do excuse our interruption - I hope we are not intruding?” Neuvilette asks, poised as ever.

“Nonsense, Neuvilette. Come, sit. Hello Liath, how has your day been?” You say, patting the space your large cloak has been spread out on the sand.

Liath immediately pulls Neuvillette by the hand and they sit down beside you, the Melusine immediately climbing to sit on the man’s lap and the soft smile on his face makes your stomach feel warm and fluttery.

“I’m afraid I must ask for your assistance, it appears a skill of yours has eluded my talents. A skill in which Liath is currently searching for.” He says.

“Oh? How can I help?” You smile, turning to sit facing them.

“Liath came to me today, mentioning how much she admired the style you wore your hair in several days ago - however, I am not well versed in the art of braiding.” He says, face extraordinarily serious for a man asking for braiding advice.

“Oh well that is something I can help with! You want your hair to be like mine, Liath?” You ask, patting her small hand.

She nods and turns to Neuvillette who passes her the box on his right. Her small hands present the blue box tied with a blue ribbon to you and you unravel the bow to find a ridiculously excessive amount of hair clips, bows, ribbons and bands laying underneath a silver soft bristled hair brush.

“I was not entirely sure of what accoutrements you would need for this endeavour, Madame, so I collected everything I could think of. I do hope the brush will suffice, it is my own.” The man says, resting his cane against his leg as Liath crawls from his lap into yours.

“This is more than enough, I could braid the hair of every Melusine in Fontaine with all of this!” You smile.

“Can you do my hair like yours, please? The one long plait with a big ribbon at the end?” The darling on your lap asks.

“Of course, sweetling. Monsieur, sit closer - I will teach you how to do this in the event I’m ever occupied.” You say, patting the space beside you, to which obliges and shifts to sit at your side.

You pointedly ignore the hammering in your chest when the breeze wafts his scent toward you: sea salt, fresh air and something cool and calming.

You begin to brush the Melusine’s hair, soft gentle strokes removing any tangles and easing a path for the style.

“So you just gather hair as you go along, make sure you have three strands - and you overlap them like so, see? If it’s tighter, it will last longer - however I find if they’re too tight it tends to give me quite the headache so I’ll do it nice and loose for this little angel.”

Neuvillette watches your fingers weave through the silky strands and deftly manoeuvre it to your will - or rather - Liath’s will.

“And ta-da!” You say, securing the soft pink ribbon at the end.

Liath reaches up and feels her hair, before looking at the small compact mirror you produce from your bag and smiling.

“Oh thank you so much! I look almost as beautiful as you now! Papa - doesn’t it look pretty!” She spins toward the man beside you.

“Beautiful as a pluie lotus, dearest.” He responds.

“I’m going to show Sedene!” She scampers off toward the Palais, leaving you with the Iudex.

Somehow - this became routine. Every day, Neuvillette and Liath would show up to your spot on the beach, or your florist as it rains - and you would fix the hair of the Melusine. However, the second day - Sedene joined too. Then Aeife, then Elphane, then Blathine and soon you had a gaggle of giggling Melusines decorating each others hair in a chain of styling.

“Madame Y/N?” Liath asks about a month into this newfound tradition.

“Yes, sweetling?” You say, finishing up her hair as she turns to curl into you.

“Are you our mama?” She asks, yawning and nuzzling into you.

At this, the Iudex snaps his head from the newspaper he was reading across from you.

“Would you like me to be?” You ask the cuddled up bundle.

“Very much so. You do our hair, and take care of us if we’re not well and give us kisses. And since Monsieur Neuvillette is like our papa - and he thinks you’re beautiful and he feels a lot of love when he looks at you then that would make you our Mama!”

The Melusine has no idea what she’s said.

You snap your head to look at the hydro dragon.

His eyes are wide, newspaper held tighter in his grip as he looks between you and the little gossip.

“Does he now? Well, then - I suppose I am your mama, if you would allow me the pleasure.” You smile, settling a blanket on the sleepy child.

As she drifts off to a well deserved nap - the man turns to you.

“I do apologise, Madame. Liath - I did not expect her to be so free with her words. If my presence makes you uncomfortable I shall take my leave immediately.” His horns seem to droop slightly, and the sky turns a little bit greyer.

“Well - someone had to make a move. After all, I have been waiting for 700 years.” You smirk, shifting to stand and lay Liath on the armchair of your apartment above your shop.

Neuvillette snaps his head to you.

“I - 700 years? That was when -” The man stands up and walks toward you.

“When we met, yes.” You take his hand and pull him to your kitchen - where you can speak without volume concerns.

He looks at you as if you’ve grown another head.

“I have been in love with you since the moment I stormed into your old home with intention of befriending the mighty Sovereign of Hydro.” You laugh, taking your hand and placing it on his cheek to which he subconsciously leans in to - every touch starved ounce of his body singing in delight.

“A Melusine revealing my love for you wasn’t quite my intention, yet I fear my lack of romanticism would have impeded any attempts made by myself.” He says, and you huff a small laugh at him - never giving himself enough credit.

“Yet, as we are here now - I’ll do my utmost. You have enchanted me, body and soul, from the day a young Naiad flung open my doors. I’m sure you’re reasoning for keeping these feelings to yourself are similar to mine - you were far too precious and integral to my life to allow myself the risk of you no longer being a part of it.” He says, stroking a long finger across the rise of your cheek. You agree with him, voicing the same opinion that he was far too meaningful to you to potentially lose, yet you figured he felt for you about 50 years ago - but thought it best for him to figure it all out by himself rather than moulding things for him - given his nature and responsibilities. You can see a trail of shimmer on his lower lashes, this sweet, oh-so sensitive man. You wipe the beginnings of tears from his eyes.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, please don’t cry.” You smile, seeing him grin down at you and the mirth in his eyes lights your heart.

You tilt your head up to him and he cups your face with his large hands.

“May I kiss you, my darling girl?” He asks in the gentlest voice imaginable.

“Please.”

His soft lips press to yours and you feel as if you’re floating in the purest, warmest most divine pool of water as the clarity of kissing your love sets in. The kiss is gentle, romantic and full of pent up longing - the soft swipe of your tongue across his lower lip makes his hand grip tighter on your waist as you wind your hand into the silky white hair cascading down his back.

He pulls away, both needing a reality check - he looks at you as if to ensure you’re real and you smile at him, pecking his lips once more.

“I love you, Neuvillette.”

“I love you, dearest Mate of the Hydro Dragon”

“And we love you both too!”

The cheerful, loud voices of 3 melusine’s make you both jump as they appear at your door - boxes of cakes and sweets in their arms.

“Liath! Wake up! Papa finally kissed Mama!”