#released drabble

[sparrow-orion-writes]

For the Spotify Drabble: 1, 14, 58

@bloodlessheirbyjacques 👀

Devil Like Me - Rainbow Kitten Surprise.

Ari/Edward - Neon Glow in Gold Dust

--

What could he possibly want from him?

Ari stares across the room in the calm after the storm, watching Edward's careful hands wrap a bandage around Neptune's arm. He is delicate, fragile, soft, and all the things that Ari had never been. All the things he'd never wanted to be, things he'd seen as annoying and a hindrance.

It's good to see he always ended up filling his parent's wishes of being a warrior, a guardian, an emotionless protector. Pity they're too dead to see it.

Heavens, what could a man like that want from someone like him? Who smells of whiskey early in the morning and whose hands only falter their trembling when he's about to pull the trigger. Someone with this many scars? This much torture lingering behind them?

What could someone as beautiful as Edward even want from that?

The man meets his eyes across the room and smiles. His face lights up like the pain is suddenly worth it, eyes bright, cheeks flushed and a gentle exhale of relief on his lips. 'You're home,' the smile says 'you're safe.'

Ari closes his eyes a brief moment and crumbles when Edward's hands reach for his.

"What could you possibly want from me?" He wonders aloud, "...you know what I am - you've seen - heavens, you've seen what I've done."

"Why do I have to want something from you, is it not enough to just want you?"

Ari doesn't know how to respond, so he just holds him instead.

--

14. Shameful Company - Rainbow Kitten Surprise.

Loralie/Mal - Released.

"I'm tired," Lora mutters through the smoke in her mouth.

"Go to sleep," Mal replies, throat dry and voice deep from his third cigarette, "...it's not like we won't see each other."

"It's different here, though, in the waking world, when I touch you it feels...different." Her hand comes out to touch his red cheek, her fingertips cold. Every dream he'd shared with her, he'd felt with an overwhelming intensity. But this feels...normal, like too normal people making bad decisions together.

"You're cold," he says, because no words of agreement would allow to be formed. "You should go inside."

"Desperate to be rid of me?"

"No - yes...maybe?"

Loralie laughs, shaking her head as she smokes. "I make you feel weak, don't I? No the usual way, I mean...you are strong, but this is...this is something else."

"Sure."

"Sure," she mimics and rolls her eyes.

"Rude."

He looks over at her as she sits on the apartment steps. For a moment, she is not stained with blood. For a moment, he is not a many-eyed child-god, and she is not a creature that can compel people to her bidding. For a moment, they are drunk and smoking cigarettes on the steps to their apartment block, like teenagers hiding in the bushes before school. They are just alive, naive, and know nothing.

"I'll see you in my dreams," she whispers.

"Don't be late," he replies.

--

58. April Sky - Ten Towers

Rain/Caspian - Oak, Ash and Thorn

He'd seen many springs come and go in his time. The turn of the earth was barely felt under his feet any longer. Still, the cool breeze on the open sea feels special in a way. It reminds him of life and rebirth, of the family he's long since missed.

And now, of Rain.

The man looks tired, leaning against the side of the ship with his dark curls in his eyes. His skin shines with sweat from cleaning, a towel over his shoulder and his rolled up shirt sleeves showing brief abrasions from his day's work.

He looks pretty.

Caspian tries not to stare, tearing his eyes instead to his usual true love - the sea - as he walks to the side and peers over the edge. "Calm seas today," he mutters, "...I hate using the engine."

Rain glances at him, eyebrow slightly raised. Caspian looks back, face hidden under his mask. "We'd move a lot faster if you did."

"It's not about the destination, or whatever."

Rain snorts, a rare moment of laughter that Caspian pretends doesn't make his heart stutter in his chest. He'll always remember this, he thinks, he'll always remember Rain long after he's gone, as humans tend to do, leave, die, whatever.

He'll always remember that big bright light falling into his hands just when he needed it.

He remembers Fairweather's words, about cycles, about how she had trained him and showed him what he'd needed, and now it was his turn to do the same. In his reluctance he'd almost missed that perhaps his learning wasn't over.

"I'll turn it on, because it's calm, and I want to reach port before tweedle-dee and tweedle-knives kill each other." He turns swiftly away, his jacket catching the breeze behind him.

Rain looks out over the sea. Caspian pretends he doesn't know the other man is smiling. Pretends they don't both know why he really says yes to everything Rain asks.

--

Send me a number 1-100, i'll match t to a song on my spotify wrapped and write a drabble (or three ig)

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, pure comfort fluff, crying, mentions of prolonged spells of sadness, reader is going through a hard time and seungcheol provides comfort, that’s about it | wc: 603

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘seungcheoooool’ you whine, staggering your steps while walking up to your boyfriend. his arms immediately open wide, waiting to receive you with a big hug.

‘cheollie, i’m sad’

‘that’s it. who do i need to fight?’ he puts his most menacing face on, only to look extremely adorable in his efforts.

you giggle, ‘me. you need to fight me because it's my brain that’s making me sad without any reason'

‘listen if i need to fight you, i’ll fight you man’ he balls his fists up, giving you a playful little punch on your cheek, accompanying it with a silly ‘psch’ sound effect.

‘but no, tell me, what’s wrong, baby?’ he asks in pout ‘my precious little bae-bee’

‘i don’t know’ you sigh, sinking back into his arms ‘i just feel…sad?’ he rubs your back in soothing circles, swaying you gently from side to side.

‘mmhm, i know what you mean. how can i make it better, my love?’ you shake your head, rubbing it into his chest ‘i don’t think you can’

‘not you’ you clarify so as not to make him overthink which you’re sure he’s already started doing. you’re right.

‘as in nothing can. i’m just sad. have been for the last couple of weeks. i don’t know, i just feel so…tired’ he knows he’s not supposed to take your words personally, but it hurts him. not only does he feel awful that you waited this long to confide in him, he also feels like a massive failure for not noticing anything was wrong in the first place.

he hugs you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. he’s a little lost honestly, unable to understand how to fix this, or what even needs fixing. he’s always been able to do something to take the pain away, but for the first time he doesn’t have an answer and he hates it.

it’s not like you were hiding it from him all this time; you thought the feeling would go away like it usually did but it stayed for a week, and then like a bad guest it stayed for another one, plus one more, and after that it felt too heavy a burden to share.

‘it’s been going on for so long, and i don’t know w-what to do a-anymore’ your voice shakes, dangerously close to breaking. you think you’ve successfully swallowed that lump in your throat but then seungcheol strokes your hair so gently, so lovingly, so affectionately, you immediately burst into tears.

‘hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?’ he pulls back and grabs your face with both hands, his face falling when he sees yours ‘oh baby’ your tear-filled eyes, those big wet drops rolling down your soft cheeks, and your wobbly chin — they all make his heart hurt. he’s so worried but he doesn’t let it show, calmly wiping your tears away.

‘it’s okay, it’ll be okay, i’m right here, yeah? i’m right here’ his eyes are big and hopeful. you nod twice, inhaling in sudden sharp breaths.

‘come here’ he holds you as tight as he can without hurting you, cradling your head protectively in his hands ‘i’m so sorry i don’t know how to fix this but we’ll figure it out together, okay? it’ll be okay’

you nod, continuing to sob against his chest, and he lets you, telling you to let it all out, cry as much as you want for as long as you need.

that’s all he can think of to do, and if he needs to hold you forever to make it even a little better, he gladly will.

[treasuringizu]

“Hmmm…” Satoru holds your hand up, twisting it this way and that and carefully examining it, pitch-black glasses discarded on the side to allow his azure eyes to show. He hums, a deep rumble in his throat as his long, pale fingers trace the back of your palm, gently tugging on your pointer finger, then your pinkie, and your ring finger.

His eyebrows furrow in faux concentration, lips in a pout, and then he nods once to himself. “Alright. Looks promising!” He says out-loud to himself, like a child inspecting their new toy.

You’re so used to his antics that you don’t even bat an eye at his out of the blue examination of your hand, an amused smile playing on your lips as you watch him. You had been walking past where he sat on the couch, only for his arms to wrap around you and pull you sideways onto his lap, no care for what you had been doing prior. He then proceeded to grab your hands with no words, silently beginning his very serious yet sudden inspection. Not like you put up much of a fight, though.

“Satoru,” you say. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “Everything okay, baby?” You ask, raising your eyebrows as your smile grows wider with the way his arms tighten minisculely over your midsection at the pet name. You love him. So, so much.

He grins, pearly white teeth winking at you and he ardently nods his head. “Yes! Everything’s great in fact, my dear sugar plum.”

You shake your head, and his attention is momentarily taken from your hands to you, dramatically sighing. “Not that one either?”

“No, Satoru. Try another name.”

“Aw, okay. Anyways!” He intertwines your hands together, affectionately squeezing. Your arm that’s wrapped around his shoulders moves so that your other hand is in his hair, running through the soft snow-white strands, causing his eyes briefly flutter shut at the kind touch. “…Hmm.”

You grin, always happy to see the little ways you affect him. “Anyways…” you prompt, dragging it out and successively reminding him of what he had started to say.

His eyes snap back open, and he gets back to his original task. “As I was saying, you have really, really nice hands,” he murmurs, gently swaying your locked hands, then placing a soft kiss on the back of your palm. “I love them.”

“Thank you, Satoru. I love your hands too.”

“I know, they’re pretty amazing.”

“I’ll smack you.”

He glosses over your threat. “Buttttt…” His grin grows a bit shy, timid— well, as timid as he ever could be. Leaning in for a kiss, you meet him half-way, and your heart leaps as your lips touch, even though this definitely isn’t the first time he’s kissed you before.

When you part, he leans his forehead against yours, his hand that’s not interlocked with yours smoothing over your back, under your t-shirt and fervidly rubbing against your bare skin.

He winks, and your mouth dries. “I think it would look even better with a ring on it.”

[kaidabakugou]

attending an event where the concept is that you have to switch hero costumes with someone and you get paired with red riot

everyone is expecting you to wear a black tank top to cover up your chest but you absolutely break the internet when you show up with your front exposed and red riot gears pasties with ruby rhinestones just barely covering your nipples

which has red riot a sweaty mess inside the costume that was made to match your hero suit, all of a sudden feeling too tight around his big, muscular body every time he’s around you throughout the event because you’ve been his hero crush for as long as he can remember and the sight of you looking so sexy in his hero suit has him fighting back a boner all night

[hanafubukki]

Thinking about Malleus and him just giving up.

He couldn’t do anything.

He couldn’t make anyone happy.

He’s useless.

His gift unworthy.

Silver didn’t want it.

Sebek went against it.

Lilia rejected it.

You, his first friend, denied him.

What has his life brought but pain to his loved ones.

He really should have died as an egg.

None of this would have ever happened.

A useless prince.

Maybe, it would be better to just disappear.

And then Malleus turns his weapon against himself.

And uses his blessing on himself.

Well, he couldn’t be happy in reality.

Maybe in the dream world, he’ll finally get his happily ever after.

Finally, he can rest.

He won’t be lonely anymore.

(He doesn’t hear the others screaming his name, desperately trying to reach him.)

[comatosebunny09]

Okay, but...

It comes through the slurry of the night. Through the amorous haze of his living room, lit only by candles and the coppery glow of the moon.

Your voice is a gentle purr, rivaled by the music drifting from the soundbar. It falls on deaf ears—or selective ones. You try his name again.

“Leon.”

Try to mask the neediness of it; the way your tongue curls heavily in your mouth. But to no avail. Instead, you sift your fingers through the hair of his nape, gentle and patient, trying to coax him away from the crook of your shoulder. He’s busy there, littering your flesh with kisses and pretty affirmations. Hot breaths and occasional nips; the pressure of which sends delightful jolts of electricity crashing into your center.

His devious fingers rove your sides, bunching up your—his—t-shirt until supple skin skates beneath. You giggle at the tickling sensation. Squirm, your voice breathy, and your head thrown back against the armrest. He presses a smirk into your throat. Finds the swell of your hips, pinning you down against the couch cushions with his palms, wide and soothing. Fits between plush thighs as if he’s always belonged there, the lines of his jeans imprinting pretty patterns on your skin.

“Leon,” you try again. Drag the tips of your toes up the back of his calf, thigh, further still. Lose your breath to the sweltering lips mapping out the contours of your collarbones. To the thumbs easing circles into the bones of your hips, grazing the line of your panties.       

[catfuyus]

"hmm?" mikey hums as you press gentle kisses into his neck. it's kiss after kiss. your lips never tiring of his skin. he's sat up in bed with your blanket rolled up on his lap. it's early morning and the time change has the sun lightening the backdrop of the curtains.

you're already dressed for work. makeup on and coffee made. he said he was going to the gym with baji this morning, otherwise he'd still be sleeping warmly in the bed you two share.

he hasn't opened his eyes from the moment you flicked on the dim lights to the moment you gathered up your belongings for work. not even now, as you press loving kisses into your boyfriend's face, knees on the mattress as you lean over the side to hold mikey's face in your hands. kissing his cheek, kissing his head, kissing his neck.

when you finally pull away about to head off to work, mikey's arm snakes around your waist and pulls you back towards him, locking you in place. eyes still closed, man still half asleep.

"mikey," you giggle, whisper his name in his ear as you press another kiss into the side of his face. "i'm gonna be late."

"mmm," he grunts in response, moving himself closer to you to give you access for more kisses.

you take his face between your two hands, plant a nice steady kiss against his sleepy mouth, and pull away. mikey smiles and finally lets you slip away as his eyes peek open. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. you're just so beautiful. and you're all his. your kisses are his and your hands are his. your smile belongs to him.

"don't forget you're meeting up with baji this morning," you remind him as you grab your purse and keys in the doorway.

"I love you," mikey's sleep heavy voice responds as you open the front door. he rubs his eyes as he admires your form standing in the doorway.

"I love you too baby, see you soon," you smile and lock the door. the sky is pink and rosy as you get into your car. brisk air waking you up as you take another sip from your hot coffee. the earth is alive, the coffee is warm, and mikey loves you so much.

ⓒ catfuyus | please do not plagiarize, repost, or redistribute in any way to any other platforms, including wattpad and tiktok.

[willowser]

☽༺.𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜'𝖘 𝕳𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕳𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇.༻☾

.ᘛ♰ᘚ. 𝖇𝖓𝖍𝖆

⸸ witch!shouto x reader ⸸ @acerathia

⸸ haunted maze employee!dabi x reader ⸸ @andypantsx3

⸸ werewolf!kirishima x reader ⸸ @willowser-but-nsfw

.ᘛ♰ᘚ. 𝖏𝖏𝖐

⸸ grim reaper!nanami x reader ⸸ @fairy-writes

⸸ mothman!gojo x reader ⸸ @kedsandtubesocks

⸸ ghost face!gojo x reader ⸸ @kedsandtubesocks

⸸ vampire!getou x newly turned vampire!reader ⸸ @rush-the-stars

⸸ gojo + reader ⸸ @stellamancer

.ᘛ♰ᘚ. 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓

⸸ gothic vampire!kaeya x reader ⸸ @firein-thesky

⸸ ghoul!neuvilette x reader ⸸ @lorelune

[irondad-defensesquad]

"erm... tony, who the heck is this guy?"

"oh, this is peter," tony pats his back. "peter, this is rhodey, my roomie."

"uhh hi," peter coughs.

"i found him in the trash," tony grins.

rhodey, with arms crossed, just smells the air and raises an eyebrow. "yeah, you don't say."

peter does his best to remain silent.

(or: peter travels back in time, goes to mit, and is taken in by teenage tony and rhodey.)

[ebongawk]

"Baby, baby, baby," Eddie practically shouted as he kicked his way into the apartment. Chrissy jumped from her curled up position on the couch, the book in her hands nearly launched across the room.

"Oh, my God," she laughed breathlessly, laying a hand over her heart. "Eddie, Jesus."

"Sorry," he said, not sounding particularly apologetic at all. "But you will never guess what I found at the store!"

He was holding up a paper grocery sack like it was a trophy, having dropped three other sacks when he barged in, and Chrissy's eyes darted between it and him incredulously.

"Groceries."

"Har, har." The grin still stretched over his cheeks made his sarcastic laughter almost genuine. "No. Well. Yes, but." With a flourish, he tore the paper bag away, revealing another plastic bag beneath. Chrissy blinked at it.

"Chicken nuggets?"

"Dinosaur chicken nuggets!" he shouted, evidently very pleased with his discovery. "The most epically childish thing in existence! One hit of these is guaranteed nostalgia!"

Pursing her lips around a grin, Chrissy shrugged. "I've never had them before."

Eddie looked at her for a long moment. The expression he wore when he wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and coddle her, which slipped into his eyes every time she admitted something sordid about her own childhood.

Instead, he just grinned, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're in for a treat."

...

Two hours later, the oven was just finished baking their costumed chicken.

Eddie and Chrissy were also just finished baking.

She was sitting on the couch again, relaxed and riding the buzz of their shared joint as Eddie set a plate piled high with nuggets on the coffee table. Adorned on either side by ranch dressing, buffalo sauce, and barbecue sauce, he traipsed across the living room to load Predator into the VCR and plop down beside her.

"Dig in, sweetness," Eddie said, easy smile and red-rimmed eyes half-focused as he fast-forwarded through the movie previews. Chrissy leaned forward, plucking the nugget off the top as Eddie grabbed a couple and dipped them into various sauces.

Chrissy stared at the little nugget in her hand.

It was clearly a stegosaurus. The ridges on its back like fish scales and the curve of its spine made it easy to identify. It was ridiculous, how some tiny fried piece of chicken could take on the form of another animal, wasn't it? Even if that animal had been extinct for millions and millions of years. And the stegosaurus would never know that humans created a little snack to emulate its visage. They would never know that humans existed at all.

"Chrissy?" Eddie asked, his mouth half-full of her little stegosaurus's friends. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Her eyes suddenly blurred, and Chrissy let out a hitched breath.

"Oh. Shit. Sweetness." She could feel Eddie's hands on her shoulders, trying to turn her body toward him as she held that tiny little chicken nugget in her palm. Staring at his grainy little body even if she couldn't see him. "Baby, are you okay? Are you having trouble with this kind of food right now? I could make–– Well. Uh. I don't know if I can make anything, but––"

"He's just––" She broke off with another sob, thrusting her hands toward where she assumed Eddie's face was to show him the stegosaurus. "He's just so cute, Eddie! Look at him!"

She couldn't see Eddie through her tears, but she felt his hands squeeze her shoulders once, then twice, as she ran her fingertip over the tiny breadcrumb ridges of the stegosaurus's spine.

"Chrissy––"

"He doesn't even know that he's edible!" she cried. "He's just trying to live his little dinosaur life and be adorable!"

Eddie laughed, bodily pulling her into his arms until she was tucked up against his chest.

"Oh, baby girl," he cooed, rocking her back and forth. "He is pretty cute, isn't he?"

"Yes," she pouted. "He's just–– He's just a baby, Eddie! I can't eat him!"

"He's an herbivore, y'know? He was gonna get eaten in the Jurassic period too. You're just playing your part in the circle of life."

"I'm not a t-rex!" Chrissy retorted, unable to keep from crying harder. "And h-he doesn't deserve that! He's too cute!"

Eddie's laughter rumbled against her, bubbling up from his chest and tucked into her hair. Affronted, Chrissy looked up at him.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No, princess, no," he said quickly, his nose scrunched up in humor. "No, it's just–– Baby, he's just a nugget. He's not even a real stegosaurus."

"I don't care," she huffed around her own laugh, looking down at the little nugget in her hand. The tears had begun to dry on her cheeks, and she nuzzled into Eddie's chest as she continued holding the stegosaurus close.

"You're literally too adorable for words, Cunningham." She felt the tell-tale sign of lips pressed against her crown as Eddie slowly stroked his fingers up and down her spine. After a moment, he let out a long sigh. "Should I put our reptilian friends away and order a pizza instead?"

"Yes," Chrissy replied, still pouting a little. "We can't eat them, Eddie, they're just babies."

A finger came up beneath her chin, gently tilting her head back until she had to look up at him. Those chocolate eyes she loved so much danced with mirth, lips twisted like he wanted desperately to conceal his smile. Which he was doing a poor job of.

"We'll see how you feel about it when you're sober," he acquiesced. "For now, how does pepperoni and hamburger sound?"

Chrissy grinned, leaning up to kiss him in lieu of an answer.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

“I’m not the one who can’t control myself when I see my girlfriend dressed in an innocent pink outfit.” 

“This is not fucking innocent. You know what you’re doing to me.” He calls you out, leaning back and pulling up your skirt so he can see your bare ass. 

“Fuck…” He mutters under his breath, cupping your asscheeks and spreading them apart. “Fuck, baby, you’re leaking onto your thighs.” 

“Shut up, Beommie. Don’t be a filthy boy.” You scold, shivering when he drags a finger along your slit, gathering some of your arousal and bringing it to your lips. 

“Open up, baby. Taste yourself.” 

[sparrow-orion-writes]

A conversation that never happened but in my heart it did: Mallory and Kieran edition.

You were the son I never had. Life is a delicate little thing and the idea of my clumsy hands holding a child seemed selfish; there's a certain level of preparedness to parenthood, and I am anything but.

But then you stumbled into my life and you weren't a child, but you felt fear like you were, you were lonely like you were.

'You were the dad I never got.'

For the first time I felt it, that need to protect so strong that I couldn't imagine what anxiety felt like. Something powerful and strong and terrifying overtook me.

'Did I make you into the God you were meant to be?'

Maybe you were the path I was supposed to take. You vanished my fear because all I needed was to protect you.

'You tried your best.'

It wasn't enough.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

i’m ngl the teaser pics got me thinking of prince jongho who seems so elegant and composed in public but so awkward and flustered to u behind the scenes but only cause he doesn’t know how to express his emotions for u properly i can’t *head in hands sobbing*

— mafia

prince!jongho tries to keep the smile on his face pleasant as the princesses surround him with questions. when one asks him what he is wearing to the ball later that night, he answers, "blue, perhaps." curt and to the point, he gives another small smile before excusing himself.

amused, you hear the princesses cooing amongst themselves about how handsome, dashing and dreamy prince jongho is. "i'm going to wear blue tonight so i match him, and maybe he will ask me for the first dance," one says. "not if he doesn't pick me first. i'm going to wear blue too," another argues back.

you round the corner where you last saw jongho dash off to, only to catch him whirl around in panic, thinking the group of hyenas have caught him, and pretend to blend in with the curtains. except he is currently wearing a black suit. and the curtains are a pristine white.

"not a very clever hiding spot, don't you think, prince jongho?" at the sound of your voice, he turns around, panic subduing before morphing into embarrassment. his eyes crinkle as he gives you a gummy chuckle, scratching the back of his neck with a hand. he nervously asks what you are wearing, and you tell him that you will probably wear that red dress you haven't touched since you bought it last year. 

later that night at the ball, when you are milling around a table of refreshments donning your beautiful red dress, you hear someone softly clearing their throat, "may i have your first dance?" prince jongho stands before you and you take in an involuntary breath. jongho is handsome, dashing and dreamy indeed. but to you, he is better encapsulated by his bumbling goofiness and shy endearment. 

for prince jongho is not wearing blue, but a red suit to match your dress.

[treasuringizu]

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝗼𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐲?"

⤷ atsumu x reader | mutual pining | 0.9k words |

“Atsumu!” You call out his name, hitting your fist against the door. “Are you here?” 

It's a little late; the hallway is brightly lit, and you look up at the overhead lights, blinking and wondering if you shouldn’t have come here on such a whim. Thinking about it, you probably should have at least texted him you were coming — he might not even be here, but you were too much in a rush. 

Sighing, you raise your fist again, “Atsu-”

The door flies open and your hand cuts through air instead of the solid surface. Standing there in the doorway is Atsumu, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a loosely fitting black t-shirt to match. He’s holding onto the handle with one hand, the other resting against the side of the frame, his pink lips stretching into a sly smile. Your stomach flips a little bit. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You wring your hands together, “Um.” 

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue and chuckling when you don’t. He opens the door wider. “C’mon,” he says, motioning his head inside his room. You stare at his back as you follow him in, taking in his broad shoulders and admiring the way his muscles ripple inside his shirt before closing your eyes and shaking your head. He’s not yours to look at. 

Focusing instead on the room, you take note of how both sides are equally as dysfunctional. Not messy, just…crowded. “Where’s Osamu?” 

He settles onto his bed, unmade, legs spread, and pushes his laptop to the side. “With Rin.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

You rock on your heels as your gaze slides all around the room, purposely avoiding his. “So…” 

“So?” He tilts his head in that cute way he always does when he finally catches your eye, smiling teasingly. “I’m not complainin’ about ya bein’ here, but you look like you have something ya wanna say.” 

He’s right. A wave of fervor pours over you, and you nod your head in determination to do what you came here for, pushing the creeping feeling of dejection far from your mind. “I need some answers.”

“Uh, huh.” His mouth twists in confusion. “Ta what, exactly?” 

“To how long it’s going to be.” Your legs take you around the small space, pacing back and forth as you clench and unclench your fists.

“Right…” He trails off. “I’m a little lost here, sweetheart.” 

You think you might melt with the affectionate name, but you brush over it. He’s just like that. “How long it’s going to be until you ask out this person you like so much.” 

He suddenly tenses, back straightening and thick eyebrows furrowing. “Oh.” Brown eyes track your movement. “I’m not, uh, sure I can answer that?” 

You shake your head. You think back to the conversation you guys had a few days ago, where he told you all about this person that he’s interested in. You remember him using words like so pretty, so amazing. A flush on his cheeks as he told you about why he likes them so much. Refusing to tell you who the person was, so maybe you could try to understand why it wasn’t you. 

But it’s exactly that, it’s not you. But it hurts every single time you think about it. 

So that’s why you ended up here, late at night, a fire in your heart. If the person Atsumu likes isn’t you, you could at least push him to go out with them. You wouldn’t be left to hopelessly pine over him, and could instead get over it as you watched him with someone else, even if it would kill you. Save yourself before you get too invested, right? 

“Why not? The sooner the better. Aren’t you the one who told me that we have to go for the things we want?” 

Atsumu pushes himself off the bed, long legs striding to you and big hands holding your arms to stop you from moving around. He looks very confused now. “I was?” 

You ignore him. “Well then, it’s time to do something.” You make sure to look right into his eyes. “If you like them so much, there’s only one thing to do.” 

The grip on your arms tighten, and you shift your hands up to hold on to his elbows. His eyes widen, and you watch as different emotions pass through his face before an excited grin grows. He studies you, “How long have ya felt this way?”

“Since you told me.” You try to match his smile, despite the way your chest sinks. “Be brave, Atsumu. I know you are.”

“Yeah.” he nods, eagerly, bleached hair following the jerks of his head. “Yeah, okay.” 

Your gaze drops to the floor. “Great…” Great. 

At least one of you guys will get to be with who they want to. You just wish he wanted you.

You try to leave his hold, but his hands just squeeze your arms, your name falling from his lips in a soft breath. 

He gives you that smile, not the confident volleyball player one, but the one that you catch him with when he’s petting a puppy, or when he’s talking to his mother on the phone and he thinks no one is looking. The one that’s reserved for soft moments, and your heart constricts. But it’s not prepared for what comes out of his mouth next. 

“Will ya go out with me?”

[its-not-sof]

11:43pm

mark fluff + smut - college au

“Oh god, I’m so tired,” you sighed, flopping down on your bed with your books still splayed in front of you.

Mark laughed at your defeated display. You had both been studying at your apartment since your last evening class ended, going on nearly four hours now. It was nearing the end of the semester, and finals were on the horizon. This class happened to be the most difficult for you to study for, with both of you endlessly trying to cram in as much information as possible.

“Let’s take a break then, okay?” Mark murmured, collapsing next to you and pulling you into his arms. You closed your eyes and curled into his embrace.

“Mmm you’re warm,” you mumbled. “I’m going to fall asleep if we stay like this.”

Your boyfriend smiled and held you tighter.

“That’s fine with me, Y/N,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. You sighed.

“As much as I wish I could, I probably should at least try to finish this chapter before we tap out for the night.”

Mark reluctantly let you go as you moved to sit up straight again. He joined you after letting his eyes wander to the exposed small of your back.

You often dressed comfortably, casual, but effortlessly put-together. Mark always insisted that the less-put-together side of you was the most beautiful, and that was certainly the side of you that was on display tonight.

Gently, Mark traced his fingers along your spine. You shivered as he made contact with your bare skin.

“Mark, if you keep doing that I’m not going to want to study much longer,” you teased, only half-joking.

Mark continued his actions, disregarding your words in favor of adding more pressure to his touch.

You blushed, and began to focus more on the movement of his fingers than the words on the page in front of you.

“Mark, I swear to god,” you sighed.

Your boyfriend laughed.

“Sorry, Y/N. I really think we need a break,” he insisted, running his fingers through your hair and gently scratching your scalp. His touch sent pleasurable tingles through your body.

“I don’t know, I’m feeling so unprepared,” you muttered, briefly closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of his fingers.

“Maybe I can help us both,” Mark murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, slowly increasing the pressure of his lips as he trailed lower. You felt yourself shiver yet again.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” You asked, hesitantly. You could feel Mark smile against your skin.

“You just keep studying, Y/N. Don’t mind me,” he whispered.

You gasped as his lips trailed lower, his fingers carefully slipping underneath your cropped sweater. His hands ghosted across your stomach, tracing your ribs before gently cupping your bare breasts.

You steeled your nerves and turned the page of your textbook, determined to cram in another chapter of material.

You let out an involuntary sigh as Mark’s fingers teased your perked nipples under your clothes. He sucked roughly at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, making you tilt your head back to give him more room.

“Eyes on your textbook, pretty girl…” he murmured teasingly, flicking your nipple for emphasis.

You bit your bottom lip and attempted to shift your focus back to your studying.

Mark shifted behind you and began trailing his right hand down your stomach to the hem of your pajama shorts, toying with the strings that cinched them at your hips.

You deliberately chose to ignore his teasing, and made sure your eyes never left your notes. You pulled out a highlighter and began to turn the heavily-notated page of text. You barely registered when Mark’s fingers slipped inside your shorts and began to push aside your panties.

“Ah!” You moaned suddenly, throwing your head back to rest on Mark’s shoulder as his fingers found your most sensitive bud and began to tease it.

Mark continued to suck at your neck while his talented hands worked you into a state of bliss.

“M-Mark, oh god—“ your breathing became heavier as he slipped his fingers inside you, letting his palm stimulate your clit.

All too quickly, Mark removed his fingers and hovered them teasingly about your aching core. You whimpered at the loss of contact. Mark smirked.

“Tell me about chapter five and I’ll start again,” he murmured, ghosting his fingers across your heat in encouragement. You closed your eyes and desperately wracked your brain for information.

“Ch-Chapter five is about the integumentary system… it provides the body with protection and includes the skin, the body’s largest organ,” you squeaked out your answer, eager for him to pleasure you again.

“Good girl,” Mark cooed, gently stroking his fingers across your swollen clit.

“Ah— Mark!” you cried, your legs beginning to shake.

“And chapter 8?” He murmured, removing his fingers once again.

“Reproductive systems,” you moaned.

“Very good,” he whispered, gently massaging your inner thighs, so close to where you wanted him.

“Now, tell me what this is…” Mark’s fingers brushed against your most sensitive bud, circling it slowly. You held back a desperate moan.

“M-Mark, that’s the clitoris…” you whined, grasping at his arm to keep him in place.

“And these?” Mark shifted his fingers to your entrance, rubbing it carefully.

“Those are the v-vestibular glands…” you mumbled, squirming in his hold to get some release.

“You got it,” he murmured. “Now let me give you your reward…”

Mark returned to his teasing, pinching and soothing your sensitive clit with his fingers and licking and biting your pretty neck.

“Mark, I’m gonna—“ you cried out as he pushed you over the edge.

He continued to tease you through your high, reveling in the feeling of you fluttering around his fingers.

He eventually slipped out of you, turning you around in his arms and kissing you gently.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He said, smiling at your satisfied and blissful smile. You quickly buried your face in his shoulder.

“Mark Lee, I can’t believe you did that to me,” you whined, embarrassed, but secretly reeling at how hot that was.

Your boyfriend laughed, pulling you close.

“It helped, didn’t it?” He said, smiling at you. You eventually gave in and met his loving gaze.

“Yes,” you mumbled. “I think I know more than I thought I did.”

“I knew it,” Mark replied, gingerly brushing your unruly hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “My precious girl. You’re going to be just fine.”

You blushed deeply at his words, and pulled him in for another soft kiss.

“So, do you need any help studying, Mark?”

[jaegonsmoon]

I love the fics where the three boys are actually trueborn Valeryon-Targarian boys, like Harwin helps Laenor in the bedroom and such. So, like, it's funny imagining that all three are trueborn but they got Nyra's skin color and Rheanys's hair color like "canon" but have that specific Valeryon birthmark except all 3 have it in a very specific place that you can't see like the inner thigh or midback.

So imagine Alicent still tries to start the rumors that they're bastards till someone mentions the boys birthmark and such or Aegon or Aemond mention the birthmark and now Alicent knows she's in shit bc they're trueborn, genetics are just wild.

Or if we go the a/o/b way Aegon and Aemond are mates with Jace and Luke respectively.

Their pups come out with Laenor's skin tone and now THEY'RE the ones who are being called "whores" and whatever till their fathers show the birthmark that comes from Rheanys side of the fam.

so a while ago I made this one shot on twt bc it was inspired by a word prompt over there, but also very slightly inspired by this ask. I totally forgot to post it but I’m doing so now that I remembered. apologies ik is not what you were asking per se but I wanted to let you know that I read you and thought of you when I wrote the last bits of it :)

[EDIT]

I’m posting the ficlet in your answer now, (honestly should’ve done just that fron the start) since ppl in ao3 are straight up miserable and it’s so discouraging to share anything this days anymore. apologies!!

~say yes to heaven~

Pairing: Aemond/Lucerys

Tags: omega Aemond, alpha Lucerys, married aemond, infidelity, Lord of the Tides Lucerys.

For all his mother tried to presume her children marriages, Aemond led a pretty unhappy life. He was married to an alpha who refused to bond with him and refused to give him children until he’d see it ‘fit’—so naturally, the man was not happy when Aemond finally got pregnant.

It had happened after his monthly trip to King’s Landing, where the family had been summoned to attend royal business. His husband didn’t feel like going at that time, which Aemond was relieved about for once. He cherished the distance between him and his husband whenever it was granted.

Being there surrounded by his family put him at ease, something he never felt back at his husband’s. However, there was something Aemond didn't expect and that was to run into his nephew. Lucerys, to be more specific.

Aemond knew the boy was an alpha, though he’d presented a little late. Right after Aemond’s wedding. He remembers his father’s words when they got the news. “Ah, a pity it was so late. If I could’ve known, it would’ve been the perfect match for Aemond.”

His mother had been scandalised at such suggestion. But at that point, begrudgingly so, Aemond wasn’t. Anything would’ve been better than the deal he had gotten. Even if that meant that he’d be mated to the boy who took his eye and maimed him.

At least he would be bonded.

Lucerys was growing into a fine man. He’d gotten tall and was buffing out a bit. His face remained boyish looking, but he could see the resemblance of Harwin Strong starting to bleed through—but even then, he could see so much of his sister in him, too. He was beautiful, his nephew, there was no point in denying that fact. Joyful and free spirited. He was a prince of the realm and a soon-to-be Lord of the Tides. And Aemond found himself wishing it had really been him. Because even in the remaining bitterness he inevitably still held against his nephew, he could see his gentleness. And perhaps, Aemond, can’t help but delude himself, he could’ve even been happy.

A lot ended up happening on this trip. Aemond’s father, the King, died that week, and everything was a mess. He knew of his grandfather’s displeasure of his sister’s claim to the throne, he knew how he would still try to pull and stir some shit against the rightful heir, despite his mother siding with Rhaenyra. She at last recognised none son of hers had a claim to the throne after Viserys made it clear countless of times.

Aegon was an omega as well, happily mated and married to Jacaerys, they already had three children. He would be Queen consort eventually, that eased their mother a bit. In truth, neither Aemond, Aegon nor Daeron cared for the metal chair. And still—even when some stuff went down, Rhaenyra’s coronation still happened right after Viserys II’s funeral, and everything went according to plan.

Aemond got pissed drunk that day.

Along with Aegon, Jace and Luke who joined them last. Joffrey and Daeron were not here. They were in Essos, studying in the free cities because they were betas and had that kind of freedom. They also had privilege.They missed their mother and sister’s succession because they were too far away to arrive in time. Meanwhile Aemond was stuck, playing the sad, pathetic trophy wife to someone who didn’t even want the trophy. ‘Nor did he fucking deserved it.’ Those had been Luke’s words.

He’d continued to whine and complain about it all, he didn’t care. The drinks kept coming so the more he talked. One thing led to the other and the next thing he knew he was back in his chambers, mouth and body being devoured by his nephew’s perfect mouth. He’d never come so many times in a row. Hell, he had never come by somebody else’s ministrations at all before.

He’d like to say that it was the alcohol that led him to make this disgraceful deed, but it wasn’t. Because it kept happening. Again, and again, and again. And he let his nephew knot him each time. Because Aemond didn’t give a fuck anymore. He was tired of feeling so unwanted. So unloved. Luke made him see stars. He gave him a taste of life in each kiss, in every single touch of his hands and lips. He didn’t care. In fact, he wanted to be so full of his bastard nephew that he would bear him his own bastards.

Luke almost bites him. Multiple times, and Aemond almost let him. He wanted to let him, but he knew better, they both did.

And that’s how Aemond returned to what he was forced to call home. So well fucked and with his bastard nephew’s seed growing inside him.

His husband didn’t notice, why would he? The fool was always drunk out of his mind. When he had questioned Aemond, telling him he couldn’t recall; all he’d say was “You were drunk, dear, it was right before I left.” And they left it at that, his husband threw a fit about this not being the right time, something about how Rhaenyra’s succession had been disgraceful for their business and his house was losing money like crazy. Aemond didn’t care, he didn’t even listen most of the time. All he could feel and think was the life that grew inside his womb every day, and how it was not tainted by that scumbag, but blessed by the fire and blood he and his baby’s true sire shared.

When Aemond had his son, he had him in King’s Landing. He’d spoken to his mother stating his wish and how he wanted good maesters. He didn’t trust anyone in his lord husband’s wretched place. His mother had spoken to his sister and Rhaenyra had gladly accepted, so when there were only two moons before his labours, he moved to the Keep.

The absence of his lord husband was very much felt as the days passed. Aemond sat by one of weirwood trees in the Godswood one afternoon when the Queen approached him. They shared small talk and some sweets she’d summoned for them. Aemond was obsessed with cranberry tarts recently.

She then cornered him. “Tell me brother, how are you, truly?”

The day was sunny and warm, but breezy. Aemond took in a deep breath before he answered his sister-queen.

“As of right now, I am well enough. I like being here, it’s— I feel like it does me good.” He replied sincerely.

Rhaenyra hummed, a gesture that made them so similar at times; she schooled him. “What about your marriage?”

Aemond didn’t catch the way his body tensed in time to mask it, yet his face remained impassive. “What of it?”

“Are you content?”

He pursed his lips and kept quiet, trying to find a way to make it sound the less miserable he could.

“Because if you’re not, all you have to do is ask.” She said after taking his silence for what it was: no.

“Ask?” Aemond winced.

The Queen nodded. “You say the word and I will annul it. There’s no reason for you to be in an uncomfortable or unlovable situation. It’s not benefiting anyone, I don’t need any alliances with your lord husband, he’s not the heir of his house. His brother and father are already sworn to me. As for the child, they’re a Targaryen firstmost, no disgrace will fall upon them, or you, the Queen’s younger brother. Not under my rule.”

Aemond let her words settle, words that filled him with both, relief and dread. It meant the world to him to finally have somebody on his side, to have his back this way, but also that could mean other things. Like a chance to properly be with the one he truly loved. It made him chilly, though, the thought of not being loved the same way in return. The possibilities both scared him and freed him.

“Thank you, your grace.”

Lucerys had come to visit upon learning that Aemond was back in King’s Landing, alone. The alpha flew often from Driftmark.

The second the alpha approached him at night upon his arrival, he'd cornered him, scenting viciously at his neck. “It’s mine, isn’t it?” One of his hands cradled his swollen stomach gently. “I put that baby in your belly?”

Aemond moaned softly, his knees almost giving out.

“Yes,” he’d admitted against his mouth, a private whisper. Then he tried to bite down a smile as he spoke again. “I’m giving you a bastard, bastard.”

Lucerys made sweet, deep love to him that night. It was their truth.

When the baby was born, his husband had been summoned. It was his duty, plus the Queen’s orders. He wasn’t in the birthing room, Dowager Queen Alicent, his mother, was instead.

Aemond birthed a son with violet eyes and soft brown hair that curled at the ends. A curious thing, because his husband was a ginger with icy blue eyes.

But not as curious as the peculiar birthmark the boy carried on one of his little wrists.

“You did well, brother.” Queen Rhaenyra says as she holds her nephew for the first time.

Aemond could only smile a little from where he rested on his bed now. Lucerys was there too, he just arrived quietly. Aemond acknowledged him with a meaningful look.

“How adorable,” Rhaenyra cooed, playing with the newborn baby’s small hand, now tracing the birthmark she noticed there. “You know, Lucerys has the same unique birthmar—” she cut herself off immediately, and the room went tensely quiet.