#maybe trying to get to that 1k will prompt me to finally get through some of the requests in my inbox though

[violet-fire-cat]

Oh hey look I'm at 950 followers, getting pretty close to 1000, that's awesome! :D I've never had this many followers on anything before so that's pretty cool!

Maybe I'll do something fun when I hit 1000. I'm not sure what. Maybe a dtiys? I've never done one of those before. Would anyone even be interested in something like that from me??? Hmmm. We'll have to wait and see, I have to actually get to 1k first lol

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[wintfleur]

🌷 [ surprise ] with quinn!! maybe angst with happy ending ?

౨ৎ arguments on the dock and nosey brothers

°. — pairings ( Quinn Hughes x female! Reader )

°. — summary ( Jack can’t keep his mouth shut, causing an argument between his brother and his girlfriend )

°. — details ( g; angst, fluff. w; slight cursing, I think that’s all. wc; 1.5k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ a sudden kiss to catch there partner off guard

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( TYSM FOR SENDING IN A REQ LOVEY !!! when I tell you that it PHYSICALLY hurt to write angst with Quinn . . . I’m telling you the truth. I absolutely loved writing this, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. I’m actually shocked that I wrote this in 3 hours. Please don’t be a silent reader, your thoughts always keep me motivated to keep writing <333 )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist nhl masterlist

You didn't wait to hear Quinn's answer as you walked out of the kitchen and out through the back door that led to the backyard and lake. You slipped your bare feet into what you assumed was Luke's slide Ons and quickly made your way down the steps and onto the dock. You let out a heavy side and brought your trembling hands up to your eyes, rubbing them as your mind tried to process the new news. 

“Thanks’ a lot Jack” Quinn hissed at his younger brother who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut, shaking his head in annoyance and leaving the kitchen to quickly follow after you. Both of the brothers flinch when they hear Quinn slam the back door. Jack’s shoulders sank and he turned to look at Luke who was already giving him a disappointing shake of the head. “How was I supposed to know he didn't tell her yet?” 

“I don't know. Maybe the fact that Quinn told us to keep it to ourselves because he was still trying to figure things out?” Luke retorted sassily as he put his bowl in the sink before leaving the kitchen to go play some darts downstairs. Jack groans and rests his head on the cold island counter, he feels terrible. His heart had sunk when he saw the look of hurt on your face when he said those words. Jack whispers to himself “Good luck Quinn” 

Quinn slowly made his way down the wooden steps that led to the dock, he could see you standing in the middle of the dock, your body stiff as you stared out at the water. Quinn knew you knew he was there, the sound of the wood creaking under his weight as he walked onto the dock . . . but you refused to take your eyes off the water. 

“I know you're upset, and you have every right to be . . . but please just hear me out, '' Quinn spoke softly as he moved to rest his hand on your arm only to let out a sigh as you moved out of the way from his touch. You keep your eyes on the water, hoping that it would help calm you down as you whisper, “When did you find out?” 

“Two weeks ago,” Quinn whispered regrettably, his eyes down at the water. You scoff bitterly and bring your hand up to wipe at your eyes, hoping that your tears of frustration wouldn't fall. You finally turn to face him, your arms folded over your chest. Quinn looks at you and he feels his heart sink at the look of hurt on your face and the tears in your eyes, but that was nowhere as painful as hearing the hurt in your voice as you spoke loudly. 

“You're right, I do have every right to be upset. You found out two weeks ago, two weeks you have known that you wouldn't be with me for our anniversary . . . two weeks you have listened to me gush about planning our trip . . . our trip that you knew was never going to happen.” 

“Why didn't you tell me Quinn? . . . i would have understood'' you whispered, and you would have. You know you would have but finding out he kept it a secret for so long hurt. You never wanted to get in the way of his career, his dream, knowing how important it was to him . . . but you were important too. A single tear slides down your cheek as Jack's words echo in your head. 

“It's a great opportunity, it's just a shame he's going to miss your guy's big day” Jack says after he swallowed his last bite of the wonderful dinner you had made for your boyfriend and his brothers. You paused your movement on rinsing your dish and turned around to jack with a look of confusion “Big day?” 

“Yeah, your guys' anniversary? He's gonna be gone for like two weeks” Jack shrugged, and your heart dropped at the new information. You turned your gaze to your boyfriend who was giving Jack a heated glare while Luke looked between the couple awkwardly. You looked into your boyfriend's eyes as you asked, “Is that true?” 

“Baby i promise it's not like that i was ⸺” Quinn started as he tried to explain it to you, but you couldn't help but cut him off. 

“What is it like huh? When were you going to tell me? ⸺ if you were ever going to tell me at all. Where you going to tell me the day before or where you going to let me wake up alone to find out myself that you were on the other side of the fucking country!” You shouted as you threw your hands in the air in anger. Both Luke and Jack wincing inside of the house as they look out the window to spy on the two of you.

“Don't be dramatic you know i would never do that to you” Quinn shook his head as he took a step towards you, his heart hurting that you would even think he would do that to you. But he knew you were just upset, that you really didn't mean your words and all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms. 

“Well i used to also think we didn't keep secrets from each other, clearly i was wrong” you snapped as you fully turned to face away from him and moved to sit on one of the wooden chairs. You close your eyes and let out a heavy breath, resting your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. You hated arguments with quinn, they rarely happened ⸺ but when they did it was emotionally draining. 

Quinn frowns and moves to get on one knee in front of you, his hands softly rubbing your arms, knowing that it helps calm you down. “I would have told you quinn . . . i wouldn't have kept it a secret” you whispered sadly as you lifted your head out of your hands, locking eyes with quinn who looked at you with regret in his eyes. “I know baby i know you would and I'm so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to tell you not to go, I know this is important for you and I won't hold you back . . . I'm just sorry you felt like you couldn't tell m⸺” you abruptly stop talking when you feel quinn holding your face and his lips on yours, interrupting you and catching you off guard. Your eyes fluttered close and you felt yourself melt into the kiss, pouring all of your emotion into the kiss. 

Quinn reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, his gently hold on your face not wavering as he whispered breathlessly “You are more important to me, you will always be more important to me . . . i didn't say anything because i wanted to make sure you could come with me.” 

Your eyes fluttered open at his revelation and you lean back a little, Quinns hands falling to rest in your lap and taking your hands into his as he looks at you with nothing but love “I know it's not the anniversary you wanted . . . but we would be together, and Elias has been helping me plan it. I was going to tell you i swear, i was just waiting on the confirmation that we can stay in the honeymoon suite at the hotel we would be in.” 

“Really?” You whispered as tears reformed in your eyes, this time not of frustration ⸺ but of a strong emotion of love and guilt. Quinn was quick to wipe your fallen tears, giving you a small smile as he whispered “Don't cry baby, I'm not upset it's okay.” 

“The things i said i⸺”

“You didn't mean them, you were upset and hurt” Quinn cut you off as he caressed your cheeks before leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your nose, a smile forming on his lips at the adorable nose scrunch you do. 

“I’m sorry” you sniffled as you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders in a hug, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. Quinn chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. His knees were starting to hurt, but you were more important than the fleeting pain. Quinn kissed your forehead before saying “I’m sorry too.” 

The couple both close their eyes, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms after the emotional rollercoaster they just were on. The only thing they could hear was each other's heartbeat and the sound of the water that was around them. It was perfect and peaceful until you heard Jack yelling from the porch “Since you guys are okay, does that mean you forgive me too?!” 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him” Quinn groans as he hides his face in your neck, breathing in your scent to calm himself down. He was in fact annoyed with his brother, this wouldn't have happened, and he would have been able to tell you about the news in a much better way . . . technically jack’s the reason why you cried, and Quinn was sure to use that against him. You giggle and open your eyes, looking out at the water and the beautiful sunset “I’m sure it would be easy to convince Luke to help us.” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( one forehead kiss from Quinn and everything wrong in my life would be healed . . . please Quinn one chance I beg 😻 )

°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[nyoomfruits]

i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you (carlos/oscar, 1k, t rated)

wrote this in a 20 min sprint with my tsgc gc besties <3 prompt was 'royalty au + "why are you covered in blood?" "long story"' so i wrote a carcar fantasy au heavily inspired by the book 'so this is ever after' by f.t. lukens and the dungeons and dragons movie :)

Oscar really only just manages to stagger himself outside before he collapses on the stone steps of the castle, feeling all the fight drain out of him. Behind him, the castle burns, and he should probably put that out, should probably try to find the other, but right now he’s just exhausted.

Three years of chasing prophecy all led to this. He needs a moment to breathe.

Which is of course, annoyingly, when Carlos shows up.

“Cabron,” he says, coming to halt in front of Oscar, smoothly dismounting his horse. There’s not a single spatter of blood on his clothes, not a hair out of place. His armor gleams in the soft warm light of the setting sun. Oscar hates him so much. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Long story,” Oscar sighs, letting his head fall back against the stone railing of the stairs. Papaya, the little baby dragon they’d befriended on their journey, chooses that exact moment to trip through the large castle doors, skittering over the worn grey stones towards Oscar, chirping loudly.

“Hm,” Oscar says, scritches Papaya under his chin. “Well, tell him I’m okay, yeah. And to enjoy his moment. He did it and all,” he tries not to sound too wistful when he says it, as he watches Papaya skitter back into the castle. He’s just has a hard time accepting it’s all over now. Done. They can all go their separate ways.

Lando will probably have to do whatever The Chosen One has to do after they’ve defeated The Evil Wizard, George will go back to doing his whole Lord thing in the Kingdom of Mercedes, Alex and Logan will probably find a nice little inn to run somewhere. Charles will inevitably make some rich Lord fall for him and then never have to worry about money ever again, and Oscar.

Oscar will be alone. Like he was before.

“So he did it, then,” Carlos says, startling the shit out of Oscar, who had fully forgotten he was there. “Killed The Evil Wizard?”

“Yup,” Oscar says, pulling himself back up into standing with a loud groan. “You’ve got perfect timing, as always. Showing up when all the hard work is already done.”

Carlos ignores him. “And everyone is okay? Lando?”

“Everyone is fine, according to Papaya. Lando’s panicking a little bit but honestly I wouldn’t have suspected otherwise. Logan broke his leg, but Alex is already trying to heal him, so. All good,” Oscar sways on his legs a little, tries to hold on to the railing. Fuck. Maybe sitting down was a bad idea.

Carlos eyes him. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” Oscar grits out. He tries to take a step, and wavers. God, he’s so exhausted. His bones feel like mush. He’s not magic, like the others. He’s just Oscar, and he’s just spend hours fighting an unnecessarily large amount of The Evil Wizard’s minions.

He sways again, and suddenly Carlos is there, hand on his elbow, holding him upright. “You are hurt,” Carlos says, frowns.

“I’m fucking fine, Carlos, let me go,” he grits. God, he wishes they’d never bumped into Carlos back in the first year of their journey, in the Enchanted Woods. Fucking self-righteous magic ass knight always showing up when Oscar’s at his worst.

Carlos, as always, completely ignores Oscar’s request. “Let me get you back inside.”

“No, I’m, no,” Oscar protests, as Carlos starts leading him back up the stairs, struggling a little. “Carlos, let me go.”

Carlos doesn’t let him go, but he stops walking, looks at him for a really long time. “You were never planning on going back inside,” he says, eventually.

Oscar looks back down the stairs, at a moss stain a few steps down, stubbornly refuses to look at Carlos. “Fuck off,” he says, eloquently.

“Your friends,” Carlos says. “They would miss you.”

“Right, sure,” Oscar says, finally turns back to look at him. “Would they, though? Lando’s probably like, King now. George is already a Lord, Charles will probably marry one, and Alex and Logan have each other. What do I have?”

“Me,” Carlos says, and Oscar snorts.

“Oh, yeah, great. Fucking consolation price, that. No thank you,” he goes to yank his arm away again, walk back down the stairs, but Carlos holds on.

“And Lando,” Carlos continues. “And all your other friends. They care about you. I care about you. If you are not going back inside, at least come with me. I could use someone like you, on my journeys.”

“Yeah, really not making me feel better here,” Oscar spits. “Just. It’s fine, okay. I know Lando only took me along because I was the only one in our village to read maps. I know they see me as a burden. So it’s like, fine. It’s whatever. I can just slip out now and they’ll never have to see me again and it doesn’t have to be this whole big deal.”

Carlos makes a frustrated noise, and suddenly he lunges forward and kisses Oscar full on the mouth.

Oscar is still very much exhausted and very much covered in blood and very much confused, and so he doesn’t even consider kissing back until Carlos is already pulling away. He’s glaring at Oscar, something that’s somehow both slightly undermined and slightly made creepier by the fact that there’s now a smear of blood on his perfectly moisturized cheek.

“Do not ever say again people see you as a burden,” Carlos tells him, so firmly and adamantly, that Oscar can only look at him a little wide eyed and say, “Okay.”

“Good,” Carlos says, and then his frown drops, and he gingerly reaches out with the hand not still holding Oscar steady and carefully wiping a strand of hair away from Oscar’s blood stained forehead. “Now, let’s get you inside and clean you up, yeah? And then we can see how bad those injuries are.”

And Oscar. God, Oscar is so tired. And he hates Carlos so much. But Carlos is also looking at him so softly, so tenderly. And maybe he has never really hated Carlos at all. Maybe it’s always been something else. Something else that’s making his gut swirl and his throat feel tight. His lips are still tingling, and he only just manages to refrain himself from reaching up to touch them.

But then Carlos leans down and picks him up bridal style and Oscar thinks okay, yeah, no, never mind. He really does fucking hate Carlos fucking Sainz.

Or maybe, he thinks, as Carlos carries him back into the castle – that is thankfully no longer on fire -  back to their friends, back to their unsure future, as the sun finally fully sets behind them. Maybe it’s a mixture of both.

Either way, he can’t wait to find out. After a bath. And dinner. And possibly a million hours of sleep.

[avocado-writing]

If you’re still open for prompts, can we get Tav to bring Astarion for shopping, claiming she has no fashion sense, but in truth it’s to make him buy something for himself?

I don’t know if you’ve seen the free cam screenshots, but the inside of Astarion’s test is bleak and messy, and in the lower city camp he’s hanging filthy rags to dry above his tent, like he’s so used to only focusing on his outerwear that he forgot he can actually get himself some nice towels and bedding for personal use.

notes: what a sweet request! i get so many lovely requests for astarion and it's what he deserves tbh.

words: <1k

rating: T

“I’m not sure why you need me to come with you. Apart from because you’re in need of my stellar company, of course,” Astarion sniffs.

“Well, you have the best taste in camp, and I trust you with this sort of thing. Besides, what were you really planning on doing today apart from irritating Gale?”

Astarion makes a show of putting in a bookmark and slamming his novel closed, looking up properly at where you’ve wandered over to him. He pretends to be a bit irked, but he wasn’t really paying attention to the words in front of him anyway - he was too busy sneaking glances up at you as you helped out around the camp. It’s something he’s been doing a lot recently. His eyes are drawn to you. He is drawn to you. Magnetised. 

But that is far too raw-hearted and personal for you to know, so he’s desperately trying to hide his weakness for you beneath a layer of palette-knifed-on apathy. He suspects it isn’t working.

“Come on,” you continue, your pleading too sweet to be ignored, “it won’t take long. I just need to get a couple of bits for my tent, you know, to spruce it up. Please?”

Astarion groans. Secretly, he doesn’t mind. He’d quite enjoy it, actually. But if you know that then you suddenly have power over him, and the idea of letting someone have power over him again, even if it’s you, scares the unlife out of him.

Still, though. When your eyes are buttery-soft and there’s that furrow in your brow which comes with your sincere confusion, he feels his walls being shattered.

“Fine,” he groans, dramatically, “I suppose you do need some help picking out nice things. Let’s head off, then.”

He tries to ignore the way that his heart does a silly little leap when you light up at the idea.

And so, Astarion lets you drag him into Baldur’s Gate. He is once again overwhelmed with how much he missed the city - not during the times with Cazador, of course, but back in his youth, when he was able to stroll about and shop like this under his own free will. When he had a magistrate’s salary and a healthy portion of it could go on things like this, frivolous and fine things. Maybe he is a little bitter at first as you take him store-to-store, but he soon finds himself relaxing into the joy of a spree; when your hand tangles with his he lets you lead him around, quietly revelling in your delight as you leaf through linens and silks.

Your day together becomes a chorus of, “this one or this one?” holding up bedsheets for him to help you decide between, letting him make a lengthy decision as he tests threadcounts against his alabaster fingers. He helps you pick blankets, new soft towels for when you’re able to bathe (a luxury at the moment, but still…) some sweet-scented candles and incense for your tent to cover the smell of dirt caked into you all. 

He suggests lavender. It’s his favourite.

At the end of the day he watches you count out gold onto the final merchant’s counter before taking a heavy woven tote full of your purchases. It feels like a satisfying venture has been had, but he still feels a bit hollow - after all, your hands are full, and his are achingly empty. 

You stop when you clear the doorway back onto the street, and hold the bags to him.

“What? I’m not carrying your things for you. I’m not Karlach!” he says, appalled. You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m not making you my pack mule, Astarion. I doubt you could be - ” he’s about to interject and bite back at that little jab, but you barrel on regardless, “ - they’re a gift. This is all for you.”

He freezes. Blinks. Eyes drop down to the shopping as if it’s a Mimic, waiting for him to let his guard down so that it can eat his arm.

“All for me?”

You nod, and when he doesn’t move to take the handles, you gently open up his fingers like the petals of a flower and deposit them into his palm instead. 

He feels the weight of the new things. Of his new things. He doesn’t know how to respond. His brain feels blank.

“I have money, you know,” he says, partly defending himself against your kindness, and partly against the idea that you might think he’s in need of charity. You sigh and cross your arms, a sure sign of not taking any of his nonsense right now.

“I know, and I am perfectly capable of giving you a gift because I think you deserve one. There is no trick here, Astarion. I just thought you should have a couple of new bits because you barely buy them for yourself. You’re allowed to have nice things, you know.”

Ah. That hurts him a bit, not because you’re being unkind, but because maybe you’re being truthful. His hands became used to a needle and thread by candlelight, to tiny neat stitches done with such precision it was difficult to notice that anything he mended was ever damaged at all. But he does not live that life any more. He can open himself to the possibility of being pampered again.

He likes that idea.

He retracts his arms, clutching the shopping to his body, as if he’s afraid that you’ll change your mind. You smile at him so brightly that he feels as if you are the sun.

“...Thank you,” he manages, eventually.

“Any time,” you say, and he knows you mean that.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @hopeful-n-sad

[makeyoumine69]

Congrats on the 1k of followers! You're so talented, I love your work and you deserve so much!

I would like to ask prompt 4 from the new list, maybe something we're we have been very bad for patrick the whole day, trying to get his attention? And he just gets so disappointed that he will have to punish us?

But this is just a vague thought, I would love to see your work and style on this prompt. 💖

Being stuck in an elevator with horny Patrick

— A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for your request, I hope you like it!🖤

— WORDS: 1.1k

— [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [1k CELEBRATION MASTERLIST] 🪓 [tip] 💗

That day at Pierce & Pierce was crazy, there were so many things to do and on top of that Patrick decided to act like a total asshole, which was so typical of him, but still annoyed you nonetheless.

After a short break from all that ruckus, you found yourself stuck inside the crowded elevator, cursing under your breath because sometimes you really hated your job. When there were only a few floors left, the elevator doors opened, and you almost dropped the folder with your documents when you saw Bateman walk in. The way he was smirking didn't promise any good.

"Woah, what a surprise," Patrick chuckled, standing next to you at the back of the elevator. "How was your lunch with that jerk from sales?"

Frowning, you waited for the doors to close before you finally looked at him with a barely audible hiss: 

"It was fine," you clutched the folder and pressed it closer to your chest. "And how did your lunch go? Is that blonde bimbo happy?"

You said it a little louder on purpose, causing some of the yuppies to turn to check you out, but Patrick just smiled and subtly slipped a hand behind you after the guys looked away.

"Just for your information," he suddenly leaned down to your neck, put his hand on your back and whispered. "I had lunch alone."

The elevator stopped on your floor, but you didn't even notice, and neither did Bateman, because his full attention was on your seductive lips and your shapely breasts, which looked so damn good in that white blouse.

"You know what? I—" A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you felt his big palm under your skirt. How the hell did he manage to do that so stealthily? Thank God no one around had noticed it.

"You what?" Patrick continued, sliding his hand up your leg, almost reaching your panties.

"Stop…"

You flinched and tried to brush his hand away, but that only made him more aggressive, so now you had to stop yourself from moaning as he deftly cupped your pussy through the fabric of your underwear, which was slightly wet.

"(Y/n), you didn't answer," his cheeky voice and smile sent shivers down your spine. "It's pretty rude to ignore your boss."

Embarrassed, you tried to hide how affected you got by his touch, even though your hands were shaking pretty badly.

"Now you tell me that?" you hiccuped, nearly crumpling the folder when his fingers reached your sensitive little bud and gave it several light strokes. "You acted like I didn't even exist all day!"

As you tried to get away from him, you noticed that almost everyone had left, leaving you both alone on the elevator. Like a hawk, Bateman calculated your next move in advance, and before you could even reach the door, he blocked your way and pressed the "STOP" button on the control panel.

Breathing heavily, you looked at him in shock before asking:

“What the hell are you—”, was all you could say before Patrick pushed you against the elevator wall and kissed you as hard as he could.

It was getting so hot from the heat that his muscular body was radiating. Your folder fell to the floor with a thud, but neither of you gave a damn. All you could do was desperately run your hands down his broad back and kiss him back. Bateman wanted more, his hidden nature was overtaking him, and he was getting more and more savage. You squealed in surprise when he grabbed your ass and pulled up your skirt roughly.

"W-wait! Not here, please", even though your pathetic pleas made him titter, he stopped and looked down at you.

"Baby, you forgot who's in charge here," he growled and attacked your neck, leaving wet marks on it. "But I'll be happy to remind you."

A lewd sigh escaped your lips when his sharp canines sank into your soft skin, making your knees buckle slightly, and only his firm grip prevented you from falling.

"Now listen to me carefully, darling," he pressed a finger along your lips, watching your chest rise and fall so quickly that he couldn't help but grab one of your breasts, squeezing it until you whimpered. "I want you to stick your finger inside your tight little pussy," he grabbed your hand and placed it over your mound. "And let me taste it."

You gasped so loudly that you were afraid that the whole building heard it.

"C'mon, it's not a big deal," Patrick kept grinning, making you even more ashamed. "Don't be shy."

Damn it!

Your little mind was about to explode from the level of tension, especially when he pushed on your hand, forcing you to touch yourself to feel how fucking soaked you were. Closing your eyes, you spread your legs wider and only then did Bateman release you, watching your hand slip between your thighs, his brown eyes darkening as he heard the slick sound of your fingers slithering into your dripping cunt.

"Push them deeper," he insisted, exhaling noisily through his flushed nostrils. "To the knuckles."

Trembling, you had no choice but to obey. 

You could feel your heartbeat pounding against your ears as you pulled out your fingers, all covered in your juices, glistening in the light. Languidly, you brought your digits to his lips. He sucked them greedily, almost moaning, as if he had waited his whole life for this.

"Fuck, you're such a brat, but you taste so delicious… mmmhm," Patrick hummed, enjoying every second of his little sick game. "Gimme your panties, slut. I don't think you'll need them anyway."

You took a deep breath and blurted out defensively: "No!"

Bateman raised his eyebrows in surprise before giggling: "You want me to do it myself?"

The sudden voices from behind the elevator doors caught you both off guard, so you seized the moment and dashed forward to the control panel. But Bateman wouldn't be Bateman if he just let you do that, so he grabbed you by the waist and hugged you from behind.

"Okay, okay, little girl… have it your way. Just be prepared for the consequences."

With that, he slapped your ass with all his might, quickly ripping off your underwear with his fingers and hiding it in the pocket of his pants. His ferocity made you freeze, so you simply allowed him to get on with it.

Eventually, Patrick released you and you pulled down your skirt. He pushed the button that opened the doors, letting in the people, who seemed very irritated and confused about what the hell had happened to the elevator.

With a devilish smile on his haughty face, Bateman walked out and turned to give you a shameless wink before his perfectly formed silhouette vanished among a myriad of hurrying yuppies.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[tasteleeknow]

loved your latest chan fic! i was thinking what about the same angsty prompt but instead the reader feels like chan is only using them for sex as a stress reliever and they haven’t really been communicating even though they’re in a relationship, they’ve just been fucking and the reader finally brings it up to chan

so i just typed this out in a few minutes. sorry, i’ve got a lot of wips right now and don’t really have the time to make this a proper thing. maybe i’ll come back to it at some point. ended up being ANGST. hope someone likes anyway.

pairing: chan x gn!reader genre: suggestive themes [18+ only], angst, fluff. word count: 1k content: profanity. lots of tears. discussion about consent.

He collapses over you, the full weight of his body knocking the breath from your lungs. It feels good, for just a moment—to have all your focus on your lungs. But then he rolls off you and as oxygen floods into your chest, the reality of your relationship floods back into your head. 

You roll over to face the wall, hiding your watery eyes from him. 

“Good?” he says, breathing heavily. 

“Good,” you answer, glad for the steadiness of your voice. 

The bed rocks as he stands and disappears into the bathroom. By the time the shower stops you’ve cried, cleaned yourself up and pulled on your favourite pyjamas. When he emerges you’ve curled up under the covers, ready to pretend to be asleep so he has no chance of noticing your puffy eyes. 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you back against his chest. “You awake?” he whispers. You suck in a shaky breath, attempting to keep a sob from escaping. “Alright?” he whispers again, his warm breath tickling your neck.

You open your mouth to say yes, everything is fine. Instead your walls crumble, chest heaving as you cry again. He pulls himself from you quickly, sitting up and leaning over you to see your face. “What is it? Baby? What’s wrong?” When you don’t answer he pulls you up to sit in his lap—his back against the headboard. You don’t wrap your arms around him, letting them fall to your sides as he rests your head against his shoulder. “Talk to me. Please,” he whispers.

Talk.. to him? Your heartache twists into a sharp rage as you pull your head from him, practically jumping off his lap. His eyes are wide as you shuffle back from him, his arm reaching out for you. You stop just out of his reach, sucking in a deep breath. “Talk… to you? You want me to talk to you?” you gasp out, voice shaky. 

He frowns, arm dropping back to his side. When he says nothing you continue. “You’re asking me to talk to you when you’ve hardly spoken a full sentence to me in weeks. You come home grumbling about how hard your day was…you—you never ask me about mine. You haven’t asked me anything. You don’t—” you swallow down a lump in your throat, desperately trying to get the words out before your sobs take over again. “You don’t care about me at all apart from getting yourself off… do you? I may as well be a fucking fleshlight.” 

He’s quiet as you catch your breath, eyes dropping from yours to his lap. You watch as he fiddles with one of his rings. Just as you’ve had enough of the silence, opening your mouth to tell him to say something, he lifts his head. Your breath hitches at the tears streaking down his cheeks. He falls forward, crawling towards you and grasping your hands in his—pressing his lips to each one, his tears wetting your skin. Then, he sits up, keeping his hold on you as he looks into your eyes. 

“You didn’t—” he sucks in a shaky breath. “You didn’t want…” he drops his head as he trails off. “I didn’t—” his sob breaks you from your stunned stillness, pulling your hands from his so you can lift his head. 

“Breathe,” you soothe. As much as he’d hurt you, seeing him cry still tore through you. You couldn’t stand it. 

“Did you not want it?” he manages to say, chin wobbling as he very clearly holds back another sob. 

“What? No, I—I didn’t mean… I wanted you. I told you I wanted you. It’s the fact that’s all you wanted from me.” 

His shoulders drop and he lifts your palm to his lips. “It’s not,” he mutters against your skin. “It’s not,” he repeats. “I need you, I need—I need you and I have nothing to offer you. Nothing but—” he cuts himself off, bringing your palm to his bare chest and pressing it to his warm skin. “When my head is worn out, when I have nothing left to give you because life has sucked everything out of me, all I have left is my body.” 

You frown. “You were… too tired to ask me about my day?” 

“I feel like I have nothing left in me. I get home and you’re here and I’ve been so…so much all day and I just want to be nothing. I just want to feel you…and be nothing,” he says, looking between your eyes like he’s desperate for you to understand. You’re not sure you do, pulling your hand from where he still presses it to his chest. 

You crawl off the bed, feeling like you need some space. You walk to the door then turn, looking back at where he sits in the middle of the bed. “I need you too,” you say, voice much steadier now. “I need you to be more than that. You come home and you’ve had a hard day but what if I have too? What if I need to talk about it and you’re… nothing.” 

“Have you? Been having hard days?” 

“Of course I have, I—” you swallow down another lump, desperate to finish this. “I’ve had plenty of hard days and having you here, fucking you, it’s better than not having you at all. But I need more. It’s…not enough.” 

He climbs off the bed, making his way over to you slowly. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice breaking a little. “Look at me? Please?” he whispers, standing directly in front of you now. You look up into his watery eyes. “I never—I never want to hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry. Please.”

“Do you want…to know about my days? Do you care?” 

“I care. I care more than anything. It’s hard…sometimes for me to get out of my own head.” His voice is soft now, steady. His hand rests at the side of your neck, thumb brushing gently against your skin. “If everything I've been working on this month works out, we'll be set. For life. I'm working so hard for us. Even when it feels like I haven’t been here, everything has been for you.” 

“You’ll… try? You’ll try and be here more than—more than physically?” 

“I’ll be here. I’ll be here, I promise,” he whispers. “I love you. You still know that, yeah? I haven’t let you forget?” 

You're not sure if you did know that, not recently. But you believe him now. So you let it rest, suddenly exhausted. “I know.” 

He guides you to the bed, settling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you tight. “Tell me,” he mumbles into your hair. 

“Tell you what?” 

“Everything.”

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

[another-lost-mc]

KARASU x gn!Reader 1k Words | NSFW | Making Out | Dry Humping | Marking -> Prompt: “You don’t know how long I waited for that.” [ 2K Event Masterlist ]

When you wanted to have a relaxing date night with Karasu, he invited you to his home. It was in a quiet part of the Devildom, close enough to the House of Lamentation that he could walk you home after, but far enough way that it felt more intimate.

The added benefit of Karasu's home was his lack of roommates. The brothers were far too nosy and demanding of your attention for his liking, and it set his nerves on edge. He couldn't relax knowing at least one of them was hovering nearby.

Since the early days of your friendship, he compiled a list of human world television shows and movies that you liked or recommended. He used his contacts at Akuzon to special order the titles that weren't technically available for sale, and he had a substantial collection waiting for you to choose from when you visited.

He preferred the historical dramas best. He found sci-fi movies equally amusing and frustrating; he giggled at the dated special effects and rolled his eyes at the technical inaccuracies. He was indifferent to musicals and animated films, but he watched them if you wanted to watch them.

He insisted (like always) that you pick tonight’s film. Afterwards, there’s an empty chip bowl on the table and the credits are rolling quietly in the background. He turned off the lights before he put the movie on. You're both bathed in the static glow of his television and the moonlight trickling in through the windows. One of his arms is draped over your shoulders and you're both smiling and pretending that neither of you are misty-eyed after that particularly tragic ending.

"I've seen this movie a dozen times and it still makes me cry," you admit with a laugh as you wipe away the tears stinging your lash line.

"I'm not usually this affected by films, but despite it's sad ending, I found the movie overall was very enjoyable," he admits quietly. He pulls you closer and sighs against your temple.

Normally this is the point in the evening where he announces it's time to get ready so he can walk you home, but neither of you want to move. There's a slow realization that you've built something of a routine together, and it gets more difficult each time you have to say goodbye.

You know if you stay too late, one (or some) of the brothers will make a fuss about it. You’re not sure what they’re concerned about. You're still enjoying the shy intimacy of your relationship with Karasu and the most you've done together is share sweet, chaste kisses when you found moments alone together, but—

"I like having you here," he whispers. His quiet confession feels shockingly loud, or maybe you feel that way because he's admitting to you what you're too shy to say to him.

His hand rests on the cushion between you, and you cover it with your own. He still hasn't looked at you properly, but you can tell when he shifts his gaze to your fingers that slowly stroke his. You're not sure if you're trying to comfort him or tease him or invite him, but when he finally looks up, there's something hopeful shining in his dark eyes.

He makes a soft sound when your lips meet, and your noses brush together when you try to slot your mouth more comfortably against his. The kiss is hardly scandalous—it’s not desperate or sloppy, and you're not trying to curl your tongue with his own—but heat still blooms inside you. You don't even realize you're whimpering into the kiss until he pulls back and gasps your name.

He stares at you so intensely that you think you've overstepped, but he cups your cheek before you can look away and utter an apology.

"You don't know how long I waited for this," he murmurs. He licks his lips and you subconsciously mirror the movement; he stares at your tongue and you watch his throat bob when he swallows.

He surprises you when he leans forward. You expect him to kiss you again, but he moves shockingly fast; he swings his leg over your lap and when you blink, he's straddling your legs and leaning forward on his hands. You're caged between his arms and you can hear his fingers clench the leathery material of his couch on either side of your head.

When he finally comes to some sort of decision, he pushes away from the couch and leans back slightly. The shy, hesitant demon you know seems to fade into someone more confident, more sure of what he wants. He slips his glasses off the bridge of his nose and folds them carefully before he tosses them aside. He rolls his shoulders and you're awestruck when his wings unfurl behind him. They surround you like a black feathered veil, and all you can see is him.

His crimson pupils seem to glow in the darkness; they draw closer when he leans his face towards you again, and his chest just barely presses against your own. His fingers hover over your cheeks and he strokes them so gently with his fingertips like he's still in awe of you.

"We have a bit more time," he says thickly, and his voice is rougher and deeper than you've ever heard it. Your hand curls around the back of his head so you can tangle your fingers in his hair, and when his mouth crashes against yours, the kiss can only be described as hungry. His movements are unskilled and rushed at first, but the slick glide of his mouth moving against your own grows more confident, more daring, and you swallow each other's desperate sounds.

He cradles your head so gently, even when his hips start grinding down against you. He moans against the skin of your neck when he licks at your pulse point and dares to leave a little mark there for you to find tomorrow. You roll your hips against his to find friction to take the edge off your own blazing arousal. His gaze turns predatory and you move together in the feathery darkness he made for you.

By the time he walks you back to the House of Lamentation nearly an hour later, both your lips are kiss-swollen and desire still surges like a current between you.

(He had to change his pants when he slid off your lap; you were too embarrassed to admit that your thighs were warm and sticky from his ministrations too, but part of you liked it. The satisfied tilt to his smirk when he bid you goodnight gave you the impression that he liked it as much as you did.)

[stxrshxpxd]

“that’s my girl!” part 5

masterlist

paring: dr house x reader

word count: 1k

prompt: wilson helps reader understand house’s motive a bit more and they might finally be on the same page

Wilson lazily flicked through a magazine as he sat slumped on the break room couch. I sat, slightly on edge, next to him. I was trying to figure out how to start the conversation I wanted to have.

“Do you think House can love?” I asked at last and he looked up at me immediately.

“Well,” Wilson laughed at the sudden question. “He’s not a robot but I see why you might ask that question. He appears… robot adjacent.”

I chuckled and nodded and we fell into silence again as I thought further. Wilson watched me for a moment.

“Wait, are you…” he narrowed his eyes and pointed at me. “...Of course.” He laughed shortly at the realization. “Wow, I’m off my game.”

“Listen, I just wanna know if it’s within reason to think that something is happening. And I want to know what that something is.”

”What has happened?” he asked with an excited little grin and I chuckled at his gossip thirst, as I was trying to chase the blushing in my cheeks away. I went to answer but Wilson shook his head before I could and he waved his hands in the air as to tell me I didn’t have to say anything.

“Love isn’t his default,” he said instead. “His first instinct is need and addiction and attachment. He needs things that take away pain. He’s attracted to new, stronger drugs… I guess, do you wanna be his new Vicodin?” Wilson shrugged at me and pressed his lips into a thin line. I stared out at the empty room and chewed on the inside of my cheek.

“I know you know this and I probably don’t have to say it, but, be careful. If he wants to he can really hurt you, and even when he really doesn’t want to he really can. You know?” Wilson sighed and folded up the magazine. I nodded and smiled at his sweet concern. He threw the magazine on the coffee table in front of us and he slapped his knees.

“I have to get going.”

I nodded again and watched him exit.

Taking a deep breath, I slid down to half lay against the backrest, tracing the patterns in the ceiling with my eyes. I wasn’t left alone for very long though. House came in silently and sat down in Wilson’s spot. I gave him a glance and was expecting him to say something, but he stayed quiet.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he answered.

I furrowed my eyebrows at him and laughed softly at his demeanour.

“Did you want something?”

“Oh, would you get me a blueberry muffin? Thanks.”

House began pulling out his wallet and I chuckled with a roll of the eye.

“You offered,” he joked, sticking two dollar bills in front of my face.

“I’m not going down two floors to the cafeteria for you because you’re dense and can’t understand a question,” I countered and House smiled.

“Fine. You can do something else for the money.”

“I thought you had other girls for that.”

House laughed and laid his head in his palm as he looked at me for a long moment. I looked away and in the corner of my eye I saw him look away and then I looked back at him. Some sort of a game was being played between us and now nearly half a minute had passed of silence.

“Do I ease your pain?” I quizzed after some time. House didn’t answer.

“You don’t fall in love. You fall in need, and addiction.”

“When did you talk to Wilson?” House attempted to joke but I didn’t smile back.

“I mean, why else would you be here right now? You’re never in the break room, you’d rather be alone in your office. And you obviously don’t have anything to say to me. You simply have to be around me.”

I felt juvenile and didn’t want to admit it to myself but I was wading in pride about him having picked me. The great Dr House needed me. I felt like a hormonal, stupid kid for wanting to give in and be his drug, his toy. But then I thought again. The great Dr House needed me. Maybe I had finally leveled with him. Or maybe I even held the power.

His chest rose and fell shallowly and he stared up at me under his brows with a slight frown. For a short moment I could see through his facade. I had told the truth and maybe he hadn’t even come to terms with it himself.

“Okay,” I said in a small voice. “I can be your drug.”

House opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t think of what to say before I connected my lips with his. It was a strangely slow kiss for us and he was hesitant to kiss back at first. When I laid my palm against his cheek he finally responded, softly pressing back into my lips.

Nothing about our kiss felt like a drug high though. It felt like a sweet dance and the tempo was staying steady as we kissed for another few seconds. It was weird to be so in sync and on the same wavelength as House, both of us naturally pulling back at the same time.

“Hmm.. How much more will I get for…” he began in a mischievous tone and glanced down as he flicked through his wallet. “…forty bucks?”

I shook my head, chuckling at him.

“Third base?”

“Don’t you have lives to save or something?” I asked back, standing up. His gaze followed me and he smirked softly.

“Chase and Thirteen are doing the blood cultures. I’m killing time while we wait.” He shrugged. “Now, if only there was something fun we could do.” He sighed excessively and tapped his temple in joking pondering. “Ooo! That thing we did the other morning!”

“I’ve got clinic duty in fifteen minutes.”

“Meaning you-“

“I have time,” I finished his thought and he pulled a wide smirk before letting me pull him up off the couch and lead him towards the nearest restroom.

[dairyminki]

Inked By Fate - ONE

↬ pairing/s: park seonghwa x fem!reader, choi san x fem!reader ↬ genre: soulmate!au, racers!ateez, rivalry, angst, romance, fluff, pining ↬warning/s: none (lmk if i missed anything) ↬wc: 1k+

*reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!

・・・・・★

You hissed as you felt the pricking sensation on your back growing much more intense by the second. Your hands gripped at the counter, knuckles almost turning white, as you tried to steady yourself up whilst trying to not give in to the pain.

Here, it goes again.

A minute or two later, the door to the shop opens, revealing another female whose face turned panicky upon seeing your state behind the counter.

"Oh my god, Y/N!" The newly arrived female runs to you and then quickly guides you to one of the chairs. She eases you through the pain by cracking some jokes and telling you everything about her day. By the time the pain subsided, you were left staring at the pastel-painted ceiling, spaced out on the chair with a sore back.

"Y/N..."

A voice snaps you out of your mini daze.

"I-I think it's the biggest one yet, Jia." You told your best friend whose eyes widened in response.

"That explains why you looked more pained than ever." Jia says, pouting. "I'm sorry you always have to go through this. If only I can do something-"

You immediately put a hand up, indicating that you don't want to hear Jia continuing her words.

Because in the first place, it's not and will never be your best friend's fault. The cruelty of fate and destiny - that's what to blame.

"Ji, can you check it for me please?" You ask her instead, gesturing your back, with your head. Without any other word, Jia rushes behind you and rolls up your baby blue shirt.

"Oh my- Y/N, it's very pretty!" Jia exclaims, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"Jia, everything for you is pretty," you counter.

"No- I mean, I'm not kidding this time. This one's different!" Jia insists, and when you turn to look at her, you could see how your best friend's eyes sparkled in delight.

Seeing the doubt in your face, Jia offers, already extending her hand to you, "Do you want me to take a picture of it?" she asks.

"Yes, please."

・・・・・★

As soon as you got inside your apartment, you immediately went inside your room and made your way to your bed. Hugging a pillow, you laid down on your side as your mind drifted off to the familiar dark abyss where your endless thoughts resided.

Just how much pain will you still have to go through before you finally meet them?

For all you could know, maybe the chances of meeting them might not even be that high...so does that mean you'll have to suffer endlessly through these pains?

Sometimes, you question why fate and destiny chose to play their cards this way...

Why do they have to make it so hard for everyone, just for the sake of finding each other's soulmates? Your soulmate.

Yes, all the pain you've been feeling is all caused by your one and only soulmate. Your, supposed to be, 'other half' who, for some reason, you still can't find.

As a child, your parents always told you and your brother about the concept of soulmates, and of fate and destiny. Because of that, you've learned to love and appreciate the concept so much that everytime you see the inked initial on your wrist, you can't help but smile. Looking at it always manages to make your day.

That is, until you turned 18 - still no signs of your so-called soulmate. Due to that unfortunate reason, you had to experience another soulmate mark.

You remembered giggling in joy once upon a time as you let your imagination run wild. You imagined that maybe you'll have the infamous different eye color mark, or maybe the changing hair color one - but you certainly didn't expect this - for getting another tattoo related mark.

It started when you were in the middle of your Physics midterm exam, when you suddenly felt pain surging through your lower leg. The pain was bearable, but still it was pain.

When you went inside the bathroom, that's when you took notice of the black ink that was present in your leg. The tattoo was in the form of a fiery crown. And at first you were confused, thinking that your eyes were probably deceiving you. However, after spending nearly an hour staring at the same spot on your leg and searching on the web for confirmation, you eventually found out that it indeed is, your new soulmate mark.

After that, the tattoos just kept coming, and before you even knew it, your upper arm towards your back was littered with black ink.

And then today happened...

The biggest tattoo your soulmate has ever done - and they really had to place it on their back?

You wanted to curse them, but you thought that what if your soulmate didn't know? What if your soulmate didn't know that this is the case for your new soulmate mark? That for each tattoo they decide to get on their skin, the very same one starts to blossom on yours as well? Can you blame them?

"What a day..." You mutter under your breath, and then you suddenly realized that you still haven't seen the new design on your own back. And so, you quickly fished your phone out from your pocket.

"Oh my god...Jia wasn't joking." It is pretty. Maybe, the prettiest you've ever seen.

The tattoo was an infinity symbol, but instead of the plain one, it was made of a rose, with its stem bended into a loop with all the thorns present. And then somewhere along the lines were the words, fate and destiny.

You don't know why, but you felt warm. You felt warm because it's as if your soulmate was thinking the same as you.

That no matter how beautiful the concept of having soulmates is, the process of finding them says otherwise. But in the end, you know it'll be worth it. Just like a rose, no matter how beautiful it is, it still has prickly thorns that might pierce your skin. But in the end, it'll still be a beautiful flower to those who can see.

So that's why even though this game of hide and seek might be tiring and somewhat painful, you'll still move forward. Hoping that each step you take will finally lead you to your soulmate.

"What a beautiful pain..." You sighed as your gaze went to the letter that was inked on your right wrist.

S.

・・・・・★

↬a/n: hello hello hello~ this one's finally been freed from my drafts dungeon and i'm so happy! the first chapter is just an introduction for y'all to get a glimpse of the character and their life. see ya on the next chapter where things will begin to unfold ♡

↬ IBF MASTERLIST ↬ ATEEZ MASTERLIST

[chelemlem]

For the prompts: 5 times Oscar takes care of Lando and 1 time Lando takes care of him Back!

ty anon! hope u don't mind that i combined 2 prompts + made it LOVE ISLAND AU ↓ (why is this 1k)

"Watch your step," their driver says sharply, half a second before Lando's loafers slip on a particularly wet patch of earth climbing out the car.

"Cheers, mate," Lando says, heart thundering. Jesus. Fine way to start off his reality T.V career. Week one and out of the running 'cause he split his head open on some fucking rocks. 

Lando extracts his fingers from around the guy's bicep. Huh, not bad. He wasn’t trying to cop a feel, but.

"Anytime."

And he’s back to squinting at something on his digital notebook. Pale and rumpled, he looks out of place in the Majorca sunshine. There's a subtle furrow between his brows, like he’s got a long list of tasks to get through, and Lando’s just the first.

"That was close," George fusses, strategically sliding an arm around Lando's shoulder in a way that both highlights their height difference and show off his delts. One of those posh Cotswold types; harmless enough. Lando'd picked him for his first date because at the end of the day, they wanted the same thing—to win.

"Yeah, scary," Lando blinks up at him. Giggles for the cameras.

 

Lando's going to quit. 

Or like. Sue someone. He stares down at his pre-packaged meal, stomach turning. This was the one thing, the one thing he listed as part of his dietary restrictions, and still—

A shadow falls across his lap.

"Here," the PA from before says. Brown hair, thighs. Oscar?

Lando eyes the unmarked takeaway box hovering in front of him with suspicion. It smells okay. And anything's better than fish.

"Chicken rice," Oscar clarifies, handing him a spoon to match. "Thai okay?"

Oh. Lando gives him a smile, small but genuine. So someone did read the profile they made him write. Who would've thought?

Oscar clears his throat. "If you need anything else, just—I'll be over there."

He hightails it to where Luisa and the other girls are holding court around the firepit, sliding his headset back on as he goes. Nice arse too. 

Crew aren't allowed to speak to the islanders, if Max’s rudimentary Reddit trawl is to be believed, but whatever. Lando's not one for rules anyway.

He tucks into his chicken rice and tries to think of other things he needs. 

"There's a new bombshell arriving today," Oscar casually lets slip at mic-up. Quietly, under his breath.

The fuck? It's only been forty-eight hours since Nyck got here. Or maybe longer—who the fuck knows with the way time passes in the villa. There's nothing to do but tan and flirt, the sun setting on the same listless, lazy day forever. Forever. 

But more importantly—

"They hotter than me?"

Oscar's face does this put-upon little thing before sliding back to neutral. Instead of responding, he winds the mic pack around Lando's waist, bending down to secure it at his hips. 

Lando knows how to do it himself by now. Oscar knows Lando knows.

"By a fair bit, I reckon," he says finally, and escapes before Lando can call him a liar. 

"Also, you've got a terrible poker face. At least pretend to be touched when he surprises you with breakfast." 

"He made me eggs and toast, mate. Not exactly Michelin-star, is it?" Or chicken rice, for that matter.

Oscar sighs. "Next week's vote's going to the public. Just so you know."

Lando's not worried. He's survived this long—longer than Daniel, even, who won fan favourite, week two—so clearly there's something he's doing right.

He sort of wants out, anyway. He misses his phone. God, he misses sex. Everyone talks a big game, but when it actually comes down to it they're fucking, like, shy about doing it in front of the cameras. And the cameras are bleeding everywhere. Lando would know.

The only reprieve, or something like it, is—Oscar. 

He's not exactly forthcoming with chatter, but through the power of being cute and annoying, Lando learns a lot about him anyway. 

Like how he's a fan of the cricket. And he's got three sisters, none of whom give a fuck about the show. And how apparently being a former cub scout makes him some kind of authority on tying people up. 

"Just saying those knots seemed loose, is all." 

Lando feels a smirk coming on. "Watching, were you?" 

Oscar rolls his eyes. "I review the Hideaway footage to make sure it's fit for broadcast, yes."

"Kinky."

"Good job. Really defended my honour there." 

"Fuck off," Oscar says, surprisingly calm for someone with bruises trawling the side of their face.

"Dunno why you thought you could take him. He's got like two stone and six centimetres on you. And Charles heard he's done amateur boxing—"

"Got one decent one in there, at least?"

"Element of surprise, s'all it was."

Lando gives up with the bandages. He has no idea what he's doing—and his hands are shaking too much to be of any real use. Best leave it to medical.

"Oscar," he says, rubbing his eyes. His thumb comes away damp. Christ, this better not end up on telly. "The fuck were you thinking, mate." 

Oscar exhales long and hard. His voice is softer when he says: "Sorry. Wasn't really… thinking."

Lando punches his arm lightly—the good one.

"Next time, just. Ask me out normally, alright?"

"They're not firing me," Oscar's voice sounds stunned through the phone, coloured with relief. It's the most emotion Lando's ever heard out of him. Well, second most. "Did you—?"

"My agent said me and Carlos can call it quits two months after the finale," Lando interrupts. It's important, after all.

There's quiet over the line. He can hear Oscar breathing. In out, in out. 

"And what did you say?"

Lando leans forward, against the dash of his borrowed McLaren. The one he's being paid to drive around in, posting selfies with wine and roses in the passenger's. 

Runner's up is first loser and all that, but. It's still a pretty good deal.

"Told her I'll do two weeks." 

[icyhottodo]

SALTY COOKIES ˚₊✩‧₊

contains: 1k words, fluff, f2l, gn reader is a sorcerer as well but its mentioned once, kissing, yuji, nobara & gojo are menaces, maybe ooc? i tried T-T

summary: megumi has a certain soft spot for you. but maybe not the salted cookies you gave him.

prompt: "Are you mad at me?" "Why would I be mad at you?"

nini’s notes: i was scavenging through the depths of the internet to find inspiration and found one and RAN with it. this was supposed to be a kbg work but i miss gumi.

megumi gets angry at anyone on a regular basis. one thing your fellow friends noticed is that megumi would never get furious at you specifically.

"you’re lying, nobara," you say in disbelief.

"i swear y/n. it's like megumi never gets mad at you. he yells at us, but when he turns to you, he goes all heart eyes. look!" nobara dramatically exclaims to you before waltzing towards megumi. who was on the other side of the classroom, listening to yuji and gojo talk to each other.

nobara creeps up to megumi until she reaches just behind him and pops up from his back. "boo!"

"what the fuck, nobara- oh. hey y/n." megumi’s outburst was suddenly stopped when he turned around and saw you. (along with nobara hiding behind you as a meat shield. but megumi decided to ignore the short-haired girl and focus on you instead.)

megumi scooted his chair closer to you and leaned on an empty desk. placing his head on top of his hand with a small smile on his face. he greets you hesitantly, "hey y/n."

ever since nobara mentioned the truth about megumi acting around you, you could see how much nicer he acts around you.

"hey, i got you your favorite food." megumi offered, turning his head away from you to act uninterested. his eye catches a sparkly-eyed nobara, yuji, and gojo with their hands made into a ball.

"fushiguro! where's our foooood!?" yuji whines, shaking megumi’s body, with the other two frantically nodding their heads yes.

"you three can get your food." megumi rolls his eyes before walking away from their pestering.

you were finally sure that megumi has a soft spot when your peers decided to play a playful prank on the stoic man. they had baked some chocolate chip cookies, but the twist was that they intentionally substituted the sugar for salt instead. they walked up to you with a platter full of those salty cookies, asking you if you would want to hand those cookies to megumi.

"now, you don’t have to give these to fushiguro if you don’t wanna." yuji smiled anxiously, waiting for your reaction.

with the cookies being shoved into your face, you considered acting along with them or not. while the prank is harmless, you still felt slightly bad about tricking the guy. on the other hand, with this prank, you could tell for sure that megumi acted differently around you, perhaps even liking you. this outweighed your cons. plus if this went wrong, you could say yuji, gojo, and nobara told you to do so.

"alright, i will do it," you said as you smiled and took the platter of cookies. 

you found megumi training with maki in the courtyard. megumi saw you in the corner of his eye, and you gestured for him to come to you for a minute. because of this, megumi became distracted from his sparring, causing him to get whacked with a stick by maki.

"ouch. okay, you win this time; spar with the panda. i’ll take a break." megumi says, already jogging to where he saw you walk behind a huge willow tree. megumi left so fast that maki hasn't even gotten the chance to reply yet.

panda says, "fushiguro liked y/n, huh?"

"salmon."

"here," you said, showing off the plate. "i made some cookies for you to try."

"what's this for?" megumi asks, cautiously taking a cookie from you. you weren’t the one who usually bakes or gives anything out of the blue.

"i was just trying out new hobbies. i want to see if i am any good at it." you lied on the fly, without thinking. maybe you should take acting as a side job instead of being a sorcerer.

with your explanation, megumi takes a bite out of the cookie and immediately grimaces. megumi slowly chews on the piece of cookie before swallowing it down his throat harshly. you can notice his adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he has entirely consumed the sweet.

"i’ll be frank with you. it's salty, did you maybe switch out the sugar for salt by accident?"

after hearing this comment, yuji and nobara jump from who knows where much to megumi’s surprise. gojo sticks his tongue out and says, "it was a joke, bleh. we baked that and told y/n to give it to you."

you could see the cartoon-like cross-popping veins appearing on the corner of megumi’s forehead. megumi was ready to scold them, but before megumi could yell at them, yuji had pushed his other two friends, gojo and nobara, away, taking the plate of cookies from you in the midst of it. leaving the two of you in silence, which made you feel awkward.

is megumi mad at you? maybe you shouldn't have said yes to your friends. you asked shyly, looking at the floor away from the black-haired man. "are you… mad at me?"

a few seconds of silence passed by, making you more anxious by the second. the silence was broken when you heard footsteps came closer to you, megumi’s shoes appeared in your eyesight. you felt a rough hand touch your face, his thumb finger touching below your lips while the rest of his hand was tucked under your chin.

megumi gently pulls your head up to meet his gorgeous blue eyes with an adoring smile on his face. megumi was mere centimeters away from you. "and why would i be mad at you?"

well, that was a surprise. megumi eyes wander down onto your lips, making butterflies erupt wildly in your stomach. his eyes went back to your eyes. "can i… kiss you?"

megumi’s voice was so tender yet still had tones of uncertainty. you smiled, nodding your head at his question. megumi gave you a simple, fleeting peck, but it had you wanting more. you smiled at him when megumi pulled away, but you took him by the collar and passionately kissed him.

"i… i really like you, y/n," megumi said breathlessly.

"i like you too."

[mistydeyes]

HIIII CONGRATS ON 1k!!!!!!!!! “crystal glasses” w kyle maybe?? ur angst prompts r so good as an angst lover it’s so difficult to choose🫶🫶 THANKS💕💕!!

thank you so much anon! and ahh I love that everyone enjoys these prompts the angst ones are just TOO good

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompt: crystal glasses - a fight ends with shattered wine glasses and someone is left to pick up the pieces

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader

warnings: SWEARING, violence, angst, kyle highkey being a dick when you call out his savior complex

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Fights with Kyle were rare. In fact, they seldom happened as you both would logically worked through the argument and find the root of the issue. However, that all went out the window when you both had been drinking. Something about alcohol fueled your anger and all the repressed feelings came to the surface. What had started as a nice night of drinks with friends, had ended with you both arguing and slamming the flat door as Kyle angrily went on about someone who had hit on you. He did this every time, you grew embarrassed at the amount of screaming matches he had gotten into with other patrons. You poured a glass of wine as he continued his fruitless tangent.

"Why the fuck would you entertain them? They were clearly trying to shag you," he yelled as you choked down the bitter red liquid. You looked at him angrily as he turned the argument to you. "Oh so now it's my fault?" you challenged back, "it's my fucking fault for just talking to someone and having them get the wrong idea." Normally, Kyle would relent and apologize for his accusatory behavior but he was too forgone with his opinion. "Then why did you just look at me blankly then when I said I was your boyfriend?" he continued and now held the wine bottle to his angered face. "God, Kyle," you said bitterly, "way to go fucking blaming me for some asshole." You laughed cynically as he just stared and breathed heavily. "You always make it a fucking issue when you can't come in and be the hero," you mumbled and the air grew silent.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he countered and you swallowed as this had opened up another hidden sentiment you held. His words sounded slurred as the amount of liquor from the night began to hit you both. You looked at him through a harsh gaze before you replied. "You fucking heard me," you started and took a step back to establish some distance, "You always get so riled up when I'm not bowing to your feet and thanking my savior." He was about to speak up before you stopped him. "Don't even try to argue with me, you always find a way to make me feel bad about shit like this!" You secretly hated going out with Kyle as no matter what the context, he always found a way to flaunt your relationship and his military status. "God you know I thought I actually was helping but maybe you want to go home with one of those pricks," he replied and what he continued next made your blood boil, "maybe I'll just let them take my whore of a partner."

At the utterance of the term, you stood there in shock. "What did you just say to me?" you practically screamed at him and he had a sick smile on his face. "Just saying what I see, a fucking whore," he replied and that was the final straw. You looked down at the half drank a bottle of wine before angrily throwing the liquor in his face and the glass on the ground nearby. He jumped back slightly and held his jaw as he felt the wine soak his chest. A string of swears followed as you grabbed your things in haste and ignored his shouts. Grabbing your phone, you blocked out his continuing conversation and attempt to rationalize his opinion. "Just stop fucking talking," you screamed back and stepped around the shattered wine glass. You hastily grabbed your coat as he stood with clenched fists at the kitchen counter. "Oh so what you're gonna call me a whore and then fucking hit me?" you asked sarcastically and he held his hands to his side. "Where are you going?" he said more quietly than before and you started to see maybe a semblance of sobriety from him. "I'm going to fucking let someone take your whore of a partner," you replied and flipped him off before walking out the door and heading to a friend's house.

[aiiku]

cocoon.

miya osamu x gn reader

word count ~1k

synopsis sharing is caring.

tags pure fluff, university au, established relationship, slice of life.

notes a little warm up with the prompt jumper! wanted to do smth light-hearted and not so deep for once :) uni bf osamu is the dream 😵‍💫

+

"Is that my jumper?"

With his eyes half-lidded and his mouth flattened into a too-firm line, Osamu's seen you for all of ten seconds and he looks done with you already.

"You mean our jumper?" you ask, trying (and failing) to hide the curve of a cloying smile.

His own pressed-flower lips look soft, pink and inviting despite their downturn; you don't know whether you want to admire the artwork for longer, or slot your own mouth against his and kiss some life back into his petals. You bite the inside of your cheek, stifling your laughter before it arises at the glare he shoots your way.

"My jumper," he emphasises, tugging on the hem that you'd been playing with mindlessly, "that you swore up and down you hadn't seen."

"Maybe we just have the same one," you suggest with a shrug. It's not hard to see through your words, but it's fun to watch him roll his eyes and bat away your hand when you try to hold him. "Come on, don't be like that, 'Samu."

"I turned my whole room over looking for that," he grumbles, walking ahead and making his way to your shared lecture. "Turns out you're a liar and a thief."

"I'm sorry," you giggle, locking both of your hands around his arm before he can pull away. "It's just so comfy!"

"I know," he replies, tugging back on his arm to no avail. "That's why I bought it."

"I'll give it back to you tomorrow." You grin when he finally gives up on pulling his arm away. "Promise."

"That means nothing to me," he scoffs, shaking his head. "Giving me trust issues and shit."

"You're so dramatic, you know that?" You roll your eyes. "Maybe I should just keep it."

"Maybe I should just break up with you, then," he teases, smirking at the bitter scowl that turns your lips.

You want to crush his petal-soft lips to fine, pollen-sized dust.

"You wouldn't dare," you grumble, pinching the skin of his bicep in retaliation.

"Fucking— ow," he hisses, complaining under his breath as you rub a soothing circle over the sore spot. "Definitely breaking up with you now."

"'Do it again,' did you say?"

"Don't you dare." He narrows his eyes at you until you hold your free hand up in surrender. With a quiet huff, your mini feud is over, and you find yourselves already at the door to the lecture hall.

You follow Osamu up the stairs to the seats at the back, settling down and talking since the lesson has yet to start. He tells you about how he had even resorted to digging through Atsumu's cupboard in search of the beloved jumper you're wearing. You snicker at the snarl in his voice when he says his brother had even asked for money before letting him look through the mess.

"You owe me ¥5,000 for putting me through all that, by the way." He shudders, remembering the mouldy food he'd discovered folded between Atsumu's jerseys. If that were to ever get out of Atsumu's cupboard, it would cause worldwide devastation. "¥10,000, actually. He's a pig."

"Do I look like I have that kind of money, 'Samu?"

"Nah, you look dumb," he smirks. "Especially in that ugly sweater."

"Guess I'll just keep this ugly sweater all to myself, then."

"Oi, no, I want it back," he grumbles, pouting at the failed turn of events. "It's not ugly, just doesn't suit you."

It's a lie — and he knows you know it — but the irritated look you shoot him anyway is endearing.

"It looks better on me than it ever did on you," you reply, raising your chin and looking away from him. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you, Miya."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see a boyish grin break out across his face, loud as sunflowers. You're glad the lecture hall is still fairly empty because you don't manage to escape Osamu's teasing hands. He throws an arm around your shoulder to hold you in place whilst his other makes its way to your waist to tickle you.

"'Samu!" you squeak, jumping in his grasp. You're helpless, squirming in his grasp until your knee knocks against your desk. People turn at the sudden noise and you duck away from their curious stares as if you aren't grimacing, clutching your knee like it will fall apart without your hold on it. Osamu snorts as he eases up, watching you rub over the sore spot. When you glare up at him, he blinks, lily-innocent. "I hate you."

"Nah, you don't" — you do just a little at this moment, but you both know the feeling will pass quickly — "come here."

You lean away from him, but he's nothing if not adamant as he springs closer to your side to press a quick kiss to your temple.

His hand replaces your own, and you aren't quite sure how, but the touch feels much more healing when it comes from him. It's unfair, you think, but you won't complain about the sudden warmth that blooms beneath his palm, the peace his nurturing brings about.

His chin digs into the bed of your shoulder when he rests it there, but you ignore the pain in favour of scrunching your nose when he plants another budding kiss on your face.

"You look cute, dumbass," he murmurs, leaning in as if he's going to kiss you once more, lips wind-swept wisps that brush against you. He bites your cheek gently instead. "I still want it back, though."

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I'm loving all your wonderful fics. If you are still interested in prompts, would you consider one that relates to your recent sick fic: Ed telling Stede about the past situation where he had to juggle leading his crew through a storm while stitching himself up?

Ough yes good prompt!! This one made me sad, I love it.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic! (still accepting prompts btw, can't promise I'll get to all of them but if I'm inspired I'm doing it!)

--

Ed told the story like he thought it was supposed to be funny.

“So there we are,” he said, leaning over the dinner table. They’d just finished eating, and Ed had lit his pipe, and yeah, at first, the story had been fun. “Now, remember, I’ve been a captain for all of-”

“Three months,” Stede nodded, demonstrating his active listening to Ed’s story.

“Three months,” Ed repeated. “Maybe ninety days strung together, right? I’m barely twenty-five. Barely even had Blackbeard’s black beard. Mostly just a scraggly thing stuck to my chin. And that raid fuckin’ rung me out. But I made it! Not a single casualty on my crew, not one.”

“Bet the other crew couldn’t say the same,” Stede laughed, and Ed laughed with him, and Stede was dreamily thinking about how Ed must have looked, so young but already so brilliant, so confident, so-

“But I didn’t know then what I know now,” Ed went on, taking a couple puffs from his pipe. “And I didn’t notice my helmsman pointing us right into the squall. Barely had time to get away from the ship we’d been scrapping with before we hit it, head-on.”

Stede shivered. Ed’s storytelling voice never failed to capture his attention.

“And, remember,” Ed continued, “I’m trying to hide that I’m bleeding all over the fuckin’ place.”

“Wait,” Stede interrupted, raising a hand before Ed could continue. “Bleeding?”

“Well, yeah, I told you the raid rung me out pretty good,” Ed shrugged. “I’d been so busy watching what my crew were doing I was hardly paying attention to myself. Reckon I still - yeah, look.”

Ed adjusted in his seat, hitching up his shirt and pulling the waistband of his pants down with his thumb, running his finger along the faded, jagged scar that ran from right under his ribs to to the top of his hip. 

“Got me pretty good,” Ed said with a chuckle.

Stede kissed his fingers, then reached out to press them to the old scar, and Ed covered Stede’s hand with his own to keep it there.

“What did you do?” Stede asked.

“What I had to,” Ed said, pulling his shirt back down, taking another puff of his pipe, and getting right back into his storytelling voice. “I’d been thinking I needed to go and stitch myself up, right? But by the time we’re in it, rain’s already coming down in sheets, and this crew is still new to my ship, and they’re new to me, and I’m new to them. So I tied myself to the wheel, and-”

Stede felt his eyes get wider and the pain in his chest get deeper as Ed went on with the story, telling Stede about how he’d tied himself to the wheel to avoid sliding right off, shouting orders to his crew, yelling at his first mate to take some younger sailors who were panicking below decks before they got everyone killed.

He told him about how he’d only stopped once he was starting to get dizzy from how much he was bleeding. He’d made up some excuse to run below decks, grab a sewing needle, and get about halfway through sewing himself up before someone called for him.

He told him how he’d had to cling to the railing for dear life because his legs were so shaky.

He’d tied a scrap of canvas, torn from a sail by the winds, around his middle to try and control the bleeding.

By the time he’d been able to finish stitching himself back up, he said, laughing like it was just some slight misfortune, he’d been so weak he’d tied himself to the wheel again, just to stay upright. It had been hours after that until he’d been able to sit down.

And Ed must have realized, finally, Stede didn’t think this story was as fun as he did, because he was frowning, by then. “Pretty cool, right? Tell ya, I was a tough little fucker.”

“How are you laughing at this?” Stede finally managed to ask.

Ed looked surprised. “I mean, if you can’t laugh, what can you do?”

Stede pursed his lips. “Why didn’t you get help?”

Ed blinked.

“Couldn’t,” he said, like it was obvious. “Told you, I was young, most of these guys were twice my age. Any weakness and…y’know.”

Stede swallowed, imagining it. Ed gritting his teeth through the pain, afraid to let anyone see. Slipping on the deck, unsure if it was the rain or his own blood wetting the boards. Hinging his bets on a scrap of canvas tied around his waist.

“Hey, Stede, babe!” Ed snuffed out his pipe and reached across the table, taking one of Stede’s hands to press to his own chest, so Stede could feel the steady heartbeat beneath his palm. “I’m alright, see? I’m right here.”

Stede clenched his fingers in Ed’s shirt. “You know,” he said, “that you can come to me if you need anything? Anything at all? You know that, right?”

“Yeah, of course I know that.” When Stede cupped Ed’s face in his hand, Ed’s hand came up to cover his, nuzzling his face into his palm. “I know I’m safe with you.”

And Stede wished he could go back, to save Ed from all that pain, but - he could be there for him now, and that would have to be enough.

A few days later, while working on repairing a section of their roof, Ed hit his thumb with a hammer.

It was a tiny injury. Barely anything at all, especially not compared to that story.

But Ed came down to find Stede, working on the walls, and he showed him his bruised, sore thumb.

“Kiss it better?” Ed asked.

Stede obliged happily, of course, and Ed might’ve looked sheepish at first, but soon he was soaking up the attention. Stede couldn’t go back and fix everything, couldn’t save Ed from any pain, but he could help him feel safe now - and that was enough.

[stayteezdreams]

HELLO HAPPY 1K YOU ABSOLUTELY DESERVE IT<3

Only just saw the event now but can i request Ateez Box 2, Card 7, Prompt 14? :3 if you're still doing it of course

Hi!~ Thank you! <33

You were the first to send one in actually! Thank you!

Your Fate Ship Is......

Jongho!

Prompt 14: "Don't go on the date." "Why?" "You know why." "Say It."

Finally

You should be excited as you got ready in your room. But all you could think about was the sulking man in your living room.

He came over for movie night, forgetting you cancelled two days prior to go on a blind date set up by your friend. You invited him to stay, but he simply went quiet, and watched you get ready with a look you couldn't quite place.

For a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe it was jealousy. But that would be to good to be true.

Jongho wouldn't be jealous, not like this. You were just trying to find some sign, any sign, that he might feel the same feelings you had been hiding away for so long. But he never showed any real sign of it. But still, you hoped.

Walking out into the room, Jongho's eyes glanced up from his phone and you saw his mouth part slightly. You nervously ran your hands over your clothes.

"Do I look okay?"

Jongho remained silent for a moment as he stared at you, before cleared his throat and nodding, "Yeah, you look great."

You smiled shyly as you walked over to the table to grab your bag.

Jongho watched you closely, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. He was running out of time, he knew it.

What if he let you go on this date and you hated the guy?

You were walking towards the door now.

"Feel free to eat anything in the fridge!" You smiled back to him.

Or, what if you liked him?

You were slipping on your shoes now.

What if you fell in love with him?

You were reaching for the door.

"Wait!"

You jumped at Jongho's sudden loud voice. Turning around, you saw him standing, staring at you with a wide and desperate gaze, his phone clenched tightly in his hands.

"What?" You voice came out soft and stunned.

He swallowed, letting out a shaky breath. "Don't go on the date."

Your heart flipped in your chest as your voice vanished. You shook your head almost unnoticeably. "Why?"

Jongho almost let out a desperate sigh as he tilted his head. "You know why. You have to know."

Was it-? Did he-?

"Say it." Your voice was almost a whisper, as you held on desperately to whatever hope rose up from your heart. Hope you pushed away a long time ago.

Jongho kept his eyes locked with yours as he walked across the room. Stopping right in front of you, his eyes piercing into yours. He slowly reached up and places his hands on either side of your face. His eyes darted between yours as his chest ached.

"Because you're supposed to be with me." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb. "I don't know why I waited so long to say it, but I am now." You're meant to be with me, only me. So don't go on this date. Stay here with me, please."

He finished with a whisper as he stared almost pleadingly into your eyes.

"Jongho." You began, uncertain of how to put your emotions into words. Slowly a smile crept onto your face. "Took you long enough."

Jongho tilted his head slightly in confusion before a grin broke out onto his face. He looked down at his feet with a sigh before meeting your eyes again. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose.

"I'm always a bit late aren't I?"

You nodded with a smile before stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, hugging his chest. He let out a relieved sigh as he wrapped his own arms around you and held you close.

A he pressed a kiss to your head, you felt warmth radiate through you. You were finally where you were always meant to be.

xx

Idk if I should add my taglist tags or not....