#I'm sorry you had to witness this and have this image in your mind

[c1rcu1t-l0ver-c0pep0d]

Character Profile: Sheldon

I will update this post with more references of my human version for Plankton, the one I have written about in my fanfiction anthology.

Please read the tags carefully before reading into the post.

General Information

First name: Sheldon

Middle name: James

Surname: Plankton

Date of birth: 09/09/1970

Nationality: Scottish (father's side)/ South African (mother's side)

Gender: Male (he/ him)

Sexuality: Bi-curious/ Demiromantic/ Technosexual/ Robosexual

Current residence: Bikini

Relationship status: Married

Social status: middle class

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Physical Appearence

Height: 1.65 m

Weight: 60 kg

Eye colour: red (L)/ milky blue (R, blind)

Skin colour: white

Distinguishing features: his unique eyes

Build of body: skinny

Hair colour: black

Tattoos:

"Born to be Naughty" in cursive // inner part of right arm

a small bleeding heart crossed by a sword, with a soundwave in it, that resembles Karen // on ribs, right side

Piercings:

a tongue piercing

an eyebrow piercing on his left eyebrow

// both are the same blue tinted steel as several of Karen's parts

Typical clothing: high-necked, long sleeved green blouse, dark green bell bottom jeans, platform combat boots

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Personality

Likes:

the way Karen is processing data

to discuss with his wife about his dreams of becoming a supreme overlord of all creation

his dog, Spot and is children, Chip and Regina

when he's got the upper hand

plotting & scheming

anything lemon scented or flavoured

watching movies on Karen's screen

kinky stuff

cruel, sick jokes

getting massages

Dislikes:

Mr. Krabs // ever since they became enemies

love & romance // however he is capable of feeling love and is good at romance, even though a bit clumsy

when Karen is nagging

the taste of pineapple

getting mocked // he secretly likes getting mocked by his wife though

not being taken seriously

his first name

Education: bachelor's degree in Computer Science

Fears: whales, cheerleaders

Personal goals: take over the world

General attitude:

generally aggressive and antisocial

Uses profanity. Fucking plenty of it.

very good at manipulation

General intelligence: extremely intelligent, but lacks common sense

General sociability: he's a sociopath, so barely social

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Health

Illnesses:

his eyesight is horrible, his right eye has been blind ever since he remembers himself

he has antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) aka. he is a sociopath

he has borderline personality disorder (BPD) // he should go to therapy, but he finds it hard to do so

Sleeping habits: irregular sleep schedule

Energy level: either too high or too low, no inbetween

Eating habits: mostly junk food, until Karen started cooking actual food

Memory: he's very forgetful, mainly because he doesn't pay attention

Unhealthy habits: heavy drinking & smoking, occasionally taking drugs (cocaine)

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Relationships

Parents: Gordon & Mama Plankton

Siblings: 

Doug // older brother, father's side

Vesper & Valentin // the twins, older siblings, mother's side

Lilly & unnamed genderless sibling // younger siblings

Enemies: Eugene Krabs // four words: Krabby Patty secret formula

Children:

Chip Plankton II // robot son

Regina Jade Plankton // clone daughter

probably some biological child he doesn't even know of

Friends: none // unless you count his love-hate relationship with Eugene or the occasional kindness he receives from Bobby

Best friend: Eugene Krabs // past

Important friends/relatives: his grandmother // she's the only relative he still communicates with

Love interest: his computer wife, Karen

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Others

Occupation:

funder and owner of the Chum Bucket

drug dealer // actual -illegal- income

Current home: the Chum Bucket

Favourite types of food:

Krabby Patties // he rarely eats though because of the rivalry

Chinese take away

Holographic meatloaf, the one his wife makes

Favourite types of drink: whiskey and rum

Hobbies/ past times:

plotting/ scheming

watching horror movies on Karen's sreen

tinkering with machinery & making various gadgets

drawing/ painting

listening to or even playing music

Guilty pleasures:

hanging out with Bobby

being submissive to his wife

crossdressing

Pets: an one-eyed rescue dog, Spot // probably a Jack Russel

Talents:

singing

programming

creating gadgets and machines

playing electric guitar and synthesizer // basically piano with extra steps

Favourite colours: green, like his clothes & black, like his soul

Favourite types of music:

various types of metal, such as industrial, thrash and heavy

industrial music

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Notes/ Fun Facts:

He created Karen from an old security system and some spare computer parts at the age of 16

His whole outfit is designed to make him look taller and the boots give him some actual extra height, taking him to a glorious 1.72 m

He stinks at darts (damn you, depth perception!)

He would really like to do military service, but his eye condition didn't let him. However, he is self-taught at warfare.

He enjoys watching horror movies because he finds them funny

He paints his nails black

He always wears his wedding and aro rings, but he forgets about them

He got his tongue piercing while still at school (age 16) and his eyebrow piercing while at University (age 20)

He got matching piercings with Eugene when they were 16 (he got his tongue pierced and Eugene got his earlobe pierced) but he changed the black bar he had to a blue one a few years later, when their friendship ended.

Notes/ Not so Fun Facts:

He is a heavy smoker and started smoking at a young age (14), so he often coughs when he evilly laughs

He suffers from chronic back pain, due to the fact that, for years, he slept on his desk just to be close to Karen.

He was raised in an abusive household and moved to his grandma's until he got a house of his own

He is a bastard child, fruit of a forbidden love affair of two married people who cheated on their spouses, which is the reason his parents and half siblings hate him so much. In their eyes, he is the reason their families were torn apart, when all he did was to exist.

He was a premature baby with retinopathy of prematurity on his right eye, but was left untreated, so he completely lost his vision early on.

He was a victim of heavy bullying, to the point of being threatened with pocket knives. The phrase "your eye isn't working, therefore you don't need it" still rings in his head to this day.

He often has existential crisis, mostly because he realizes how fragile his life is compared to his wife's (technical) immortality or he just overthinks about his failures, so stays up at night and drinks. Sometimes a bit too much.

He never really expresses his feelings properly, so they all build up inside and often result to him hurting himself, having suicidal thoughts and even attempting. // for the last one, I didn't even make this up, which makes it even more serious

[wwinterwitch]

safe haven – bucky barnes

summary: bucky goes back to you after the void incident pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 3.7k tags: thunderbolts* spoilers!, vague void experience on purpose (for the full x reader experience), sam is back and he's pissed, fluff and fluff and more fluff (love is in the air people!), comfort, kissing, things get heated at the end but no actual smut is included (i think i'll make another part exclusively for the smut lovers, so the people that don't read smut can still enjoy this part)

please reblog and/or comment in you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | previous part

You gasp, snapping back to reality after...whatever the fuck just happened, trying to catch your breath in hopes of easing your headache and slow your heart rate. The broom you were using to clean up your apartment lays on the floor next to you, everything looking the exact same as it was when you left.

It cannot possibly be another Thanos situation, right? That time it felt like you just blinked, but now it feels like you've been gone for long tortuous hours. That time your roommate almost had a heart attack when you knocked on the door of your shared apartment because she thought she’d never see you again. And you certainly don't remember anything about experiencing the blip. Now...now you wish you could forget what you saw back there.

You were forced to experience the most traumatizing memories playing in a loop over and over again until all you could do is sit in a corner and cry as you beg for the images to go away. A horrifying display of the darkest moments of your life. The times you felt more unhappy and hopeless. And every time you thought you’d managed to escape, you’d just end up in yet another memory.

But somehow you're back in your apartment now. Everything looks the exact same and it seems like no time has passed.

Still, even when it seemingly feels like you're safe, you can't help but feel uneasy. The thought of what you saw is still very much present in the back of your mind, replaying over and over again, taking over your senses and clouding your judgement. 

What if this is just another trick and you’re about to experience another horrible memory? You look around your apartment, too afraid to move, expecting to see something that confirms that you’re still stuck in this never-ending nightmare. That you’ll have to stay in this place for the rest of your life.

The unexpected buzzing of your phone makes you jump, snapping you back to reality as you frantically search for it. Quickly spotting it on top of your dinner table, you keep wondering what the hell is happening as you read Sam's name on your screen.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU LIKE CRAZY,” you hear him shout on the other line as soon as you picked up, sounding incredibly agitated.

“I'm sorry, I...I don't exactly know what happened,” you mutter, staring outside the window in hopes of seeing something out there that might give you any clues of what is going on. To your surprise, you can see a few ambulances speeding past your street and you can spot a large cloud of smoke in the distance. 

Bucky and the others are most likely involved in that commotion. You can only hope that they’re okay, still having no updates. You can’t really tell how much time has passed since they left, so you can’t know for sure when Bucky is going to show up.

“The entirety of New York just went black,” he explains. “It just looked like darkness.”

“What?” you ask in disbelief. “I don't remember anything about it. I was just cleaning up my apartment and then somehow I was in...I don't even know what it was. It was like purgatory or something.”

“What do you mean?”

You sigh, not really wanting to go into too much detail about the stuff you had to witness. Honestly, you wish you could just forget it. “It was like being tortured, Sam. I don't know what it was, just that it was awful. I was cleaning my apartment and that's pretty much the last thing I remember before waking up in that place.”

There's a brief silence and for a second you thought perhaps the call was disconnected, but you suddenly hear Sam's voice again. “Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!”

“What happened?” you say, evidently confused.

“Put on the news,” he sighs, muttering something else under his breath you can't quite hear correctly. “I gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, okay?” he says in a ruther rushed voice, sounding both pissed and worried. “Take care.”

“Sure. Bye, Sam.”

You hang up the phone as you sit on your couch, TV remote in your hand as you search for any news broadcast that's on. As soon as you find one, you stare at it in disbelief. There, in the middle of a street, is Valentina giving some bullshit speech you don't really care to pay attention to, and behind her stands the entire group of people that were in your apartment just seconds (or minutes? Hours?) ago, joined by a blonde guy you have never seen before.

They look exhausted and visibly confused to be in front of so many cameras. Bucky and Yelena look particularly pissed. But what matters the most to you is that they're all alive.

The next thing that really catches your attention is the text on the banner beneath the image. 'Introducing the New Avengers'.

What the hell is really going on right now?

The broadcast finally ended, and it doesn't take Bucky that long to arrive. All he wanted to do was to get away from Valentina and all the press that just kept taking pictures of him and the others. He barely even acknowledged the rest of the group, leaving as soon as possible. All he wants right now is to see you and make sure you're okay. He knows you're probably safe– of course you are, but he won't be calm until he's standing before you to make sure you really are unharmed.

He walks inside your apartment and immediately walks towards you, grabbing your face with both of his hands as soon as he's standing in front of you, frantically scanning your face for any sight of hurt or discomfort. It's almost as if you were the one out there fighting.

“Are you okay?” he asks, slightly out of breath, still not letting you go.

“Yes, I'm okay,” you reply with a reassuring smile, and he immediately pulls you in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Uh...as good as I can be.” 

His arms are still tightly wrapped around you, not wanting to let you go any time soon. Yes, he’s holding onto you because it’s a huge relief to confirm that you’re safe, but it also brings him an enormous amount of comfort, which is what he was craving ever since he stepped foot into the void.

“What kind of answer is that?”

“I don't know. It's been a lot. I was so worried about you.”

“I was so worried about you!”

He pulls away just enough, and you almost want to roll your eyes at the playful smirk on his face. “Don't try to make this a competition.”

“I won't make it a competition because I would obviously win,” you reply, exasperated. “I wasn't the one who was out there fighting...what was the guy's name again?”

“Sentry.” There’s a brief pause, his expression hardening considerably. “Were you there too?”

You get even more exasperated because you still don't understand shit. “Where?”

“The void.”

Realization hits you right there. The entirety of New York being consumed by darkness as Sam explained over the phone, the horrible things you had to see...of course a place like that would have such a fitting name. It felt exactly like it. You just felt empty and alone.

“So that's what it was. And the entire city was experiencing the same thing?” you ask, still in complete disbelief at the idea of one person having that much power. It certainly is a terrifying and dangerous ability to have. 

Then, after a quick pause, you realize Bucky had to experience that too, immediately hating the idea of him having to endure that. "Were you...?"

Bucky notices the shift in your expression, offering you a weak smile. “Yeah, we were all there.”

You don't know what to say at first. If you thought you had a hard time in there, you can't even begin to imagine the horrors Bucky was forced to watch over and over again. It breaks your heart to think about it. Even when he has made a lot of progress when it comes to healing from his past and learning to forgive himself, it doesn't mean the pain and guilt are not there.

“I'm so sorry,” is all you can say, feeling completely useless at that moment. Sorry doesn't make it better in any way.

“It's okay. It's not like this is the first time I've been there.”

His last statement absolutely crushes you. If you could find a way to take all of that burden off his shoulders, you'll do it in a heartbeat. Still feeling completely useless, you decide to pull him in for another hug, because at least that’s doing a little more than just saying you’re sorry.

“I wish I could do more to make you feel better,” you whisper, feeling his fingers gently running through your hair in an affectionate manner, kissing the top of your head.

“Being here with you is more than enough,” he whispers back. “You are more than enough."

“Oh, please don't make me cry now,” you warm him with a soft giggle, feeling like a few tears might actually come out any second now.

The sound of Bucky's laugh makes you feel just a hundred times better about the entire situation involving that stupid void, loving to hear it under such circumstances. It's impossible not to feel overwhelmed right now. That place really left you feeling like an emotional mess.

You move back from the hug just enough and Bucky takes that as his opportunity to pull you in for a kiss. The type of kiss that makes your knees weak and leaves your mind completely blank. A kiss you see in a movie with fireworks adorning the night sky, right before the end credits roll. One that feels like he's been dying to give you a kiss since he closed the door of your apartment before New York was consumed by darkness.

A kiss that shows you he really does mean it when he says you are more than enough.

“I'm really happy you're okay,” he mutters right after the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

I love you. That's all you can think of in this moment, and it takes everything in you not to say it out loud because how fucking insane would that be? To not even be an official couple and already say such a thing? Perhaps it wouldn't be so crazy given you've been best friends for so many years (and you've had a crush on him for most of them), but still. It's just too soon. Too weird. Too intense.

The fucking void really did numbers on you. Just get it together, please!

“I'm happy you're okay too,” is what you say instead, which sounds appropriate. And not weird. And not intense at all.

You offer to make him a snack after all that happened, forcing him to take a seat when he said he could do it himself. As you prepared a few sandwiches, he tried to explain as much as possible about everything that's been going on.

“So Bob doesn't remember anything?” you ask once he's done, just as you're handing him a plate with two grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Apparently,” he replies, right before leaning over the counter to give you a quick kiss as a way of thanking you for the food.

“Well, that's probably for the best, right? I mean if the Sentry part returns, it's only a matter of time until the Void part wants to have a bit of fun again too.”

He practically devours one of the sandwiches, looking like he hasn't eaten in centuries. “Probably,” he says nonchalantly, clearly more focused on eating. It's impossible to blame him for it, especially considering everything he's been through today.

You can't help but smile at the image of him eating the sandwiches like he's been deprived of food his entire life. So much so that he can barely hold a conversation.

I love you. It's like you just couldn't hold yourself back from wanting to blurt those three little words once again. Like it's physically impossible to hold them in. It doesn’t matter if he’s saying cute things to you or if he’s eating like a caveman. You love both sides of him. 

But you can't say it. You can't be weird.

Instead, you try a much more appropriate approach once again. “You're so cute,” you say with a smile, moving closer to run a hand through his hair affectionately. Then, you suddenly remember something that you two haven't discussed yet, and your 'I'm-so-down-bad' smile turns into a 'just-thought-of-the-best-joke-ever' smirk. “Might as well start calling you the cutest Avenger, huh?”

He turns to look at you with a soft grin on his face, immediately shaking his head. “Please, tell me you didn't see that.”

“Oh, but of course I did!” You take a seat next to him on your kitchen counter, getting more comfortable to continue teasing him. “The news called you ‘The New Avengers’. Who would’ve thought!”

“It was all Valentina's plan to save her ass.”

“So you guys are not going to accept the title?”

“We are, but we still need to have a few meetings to set some rules if we plan on working together…and boundaries.”

“Oh, don’t act like you’re so irritated by the idea! I can tell you’re starting to feel more comfortable around them.”

He’s completely silent for a few seconds, knowing he can’t lie without you noticing. “Okay. They might be growing on me.”

“Awwh,” you reply, but not with the intention of making fun of him. “I thought they were very nice. And I'm glad you're making new friends.”

“You're never gonna stop teasing me about any of these, aren't you?”

“Well...yeah, but I actually mean it when I say I like seeing you meeting new people,” you reply, changing your tone and demeanor to let him know you're serious. “And yes, I'll tease you about the whole Avengers thing, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited to witness this new chapter in your life.”

You begin gently caressing his arm as you offer him a sincere smile. “You deserve it. You deserve to be recognized for your kind heart and your willingness to help others,” you continue. “I'm so proud of how far you've come. And I'm sure Steve is proud of you too.”

The mention of his childhood friend brings a melancholy to his expression that is both sad and beautiful to see. It shows he still deeply misses him, but has learned to think of him without breaking down. It's the type of expression you have when you've finally found peace with the fact that someone you love is not around anymore...not entirely around, at least. He'll always carry a part of Steve Rogers with him.

"Thank you," he says, genuinely meaning it. 

I love you. Those three words threaten to make their way into your conversation again, but this time it's not you the one fighting back the urge to say them.

But It's just a little too soon, right? Last thing he wants is to make things awkward between the two of you. So he decides not to say anything, just like you have decided twice already.

You smile, standing up from your seat. “Finish eating, okay? I have to clean the mess the New Avengers left in my living room earlier.”

“Yeah, you'll have to get used to that, unfortunately.”

“Like I haven't had to deal with that before,” you joke, hinting back at all the times you had people like Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton randomly showing up at your place.

Bucky stays in your kitchen while you finish brooming until you’re sure the floor of your living room is impeccable, familiarity slowly setting in after everything that happened today. You could faintly hear Bucky having a phone call with someone, but you couldn't quite make the words out over the music you had playing on your own phone to make the cleaning much more entertaining.

You go back to your kitchen to throw away the dirt and dust you collected from the living room, just in time to see Bucky standing up to wash the dish he used, sandwiches long gone.

“I just got a call from Sam,” Bucky says as soon as he notices you, his tone letting you know it wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation.

“What did he want?”

“For us to immediately backtrack and not go through with the whole Avengers thing.”

“Yeah, he called me just as it was airing and he didn't sound too happy about it. What are you going to do?”

Bucky sighs, exhaustion visible in his demeanor. “I'll talk to him later. I don't think anyone in the team feels like backtracking right now. Most of them looked pretty excited actually.” You can't help but smile, which makes him let out a soft chuckle. “What?”

“You said 'the team'. I just thought it was cute,” you shrug, crossing your arms across your chest. “I should invite them for a pizza night or something. Get to know them a little better. And meet this Bob guy too.”

“You'll invite John?” he asks, half-joking.

“Please don't call him John,” you immediately reply, squinting your nose in disgust. “I'll have to warm up to him...very slowly. I still feel like punching him in the face when I see him.”

“That's fair,” he agrees with you, perfectly understanding where your discomfort with John Walker's presence comes from. Perhaps that might explain some of the reasons as to why Sam seems so against the idea of this team being a thing.

You notice Bucky walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Even when the possible pizza night sounds exciting, I kind of just want to think about the two of us spending time together alone,” he says, grinning mischievously. 

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers near your neck, gently pulling the fabric of your hoodie to the side, exposing more of your collarbone. He places a few kisses there. Slow and careful.

“Perhaps I can stay here with you for a few more days?” he suggests, right before leaving another kiss on your skin, using his other hand that’s firmly placed on your lower back to bring your body closer to his.

“Of course you can stay,” you reply in a soft voice, trying not to let it show just how much his actions are affecting you.

He practically hums against your skin. “Do you want me to stay?” he whispers, definitely making you shiver now that his metal fingers are tracing lazy patterns on your skin, underneath your hoodie. What a teasing piece of shit.

It’s almost impossible to speak now. “Yes.”

His fingers trail further up your spine, but not that much higher. Just enough to allow you to feel his touch in a slightly different place, making you crave for more. A silent reminder that he can just move his fingers wherever he pleases, but he deliberately chooses not to grant you that pleasure.

“Then say it properly.”

It’s not a suggestion or a plea. It’s straight up an instruction. And he sounds like he’s absolutely certain that you’ll do exactly as he says. 

And you do. “I want you to stay here with me.”

The kisses on your neck continue and it feels like a reward, so you just stand there and enjoy it, allowing him to worship your skin with his lips until you're practically trapped between his body and the counter.

You can feel your cheeks burning red, the warmth spreading to the rest of your body with each kiss. “Don't you want to take a shower?” you try being a voice of reason, your brain just doing whatever it can to help you feel less nervous.

“Why? You're thinking about joining me?” he whispers against your skin, which immediately makes you regret ever opening your mouth because what the fuck is wrong with him and how does he dare to say something like that?

Okay. To justify your growing nerves, you've technically never been fully intimate with Bucky yet. You've been pretty close because a girl can only hold back for so long, but the two of you have been mainly focusing on your emotional connection and that one is just so mind-blowingly special that there hasn't been a need to immediately jump to the physical aspects of your relationship.

But oh, is he tasting your limits right now...

“How you even have the energy right now is beyond me,” you comment again. You're not against the idea of something happening, but your nervous brain gets the best of you so you find yourself blurting out random things yet again.

Finally, Bucky moves away just enough, a playful smile adorning his lips. “I'll always have the energy for you,” he replies, and the implication behind his words has you blushing even harder.

You immediately hide your face in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, laughing at your reaction. “I hate you,” you mutter.

“No, you don't.”

That's true. You really don't hate him at all. It's actually quite the opposite, but you can already picture him walking out the front door if he hears you say how you truly feel about him. The thought of daring to confess you love him is a thousand times more terrifying than the idea of having sex with him for the first time.

You look up, smiling up at him when he kisses your forehead. “No, I don't.”

“Glad to see you're agreeing with me for once in your life,” he comments playfully.

“Don't push it,” you warn him, making him laugh once again.

“How about I take a shower like you suggested and then we take a nap together,” he suggests casually, still keeping his arms around you. “I think we can both use a little sleep.”

“Yeah, a nap sounds good.”

“Wow, two in a row! What has gotten into you?” he jokes yet again, trying to get you to stay in his arms when you start to push him away after that little comment, but he doesn't put up that much resistance, so you're eventually getting away from him.

“You're insufferable,” you comment in an obviously fake tone of annoyance, right before leaving the kitchen to head towards your bedroom.

“And you're beautiful,” he replies with a genuine smile, following after you.

[clare-875]

Ocean's Depths (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

_____ Pairings: Luffy x Reader; Sanji x Reader; Zoro x Reader Summary: You're a devil fruit user and you accidentally fall into the ocean Warnings: Some angst, Fluff, Female Reader [One Piece Masterist] _____

- Luffy -

To be fair, you should've known better than to sit on the railing of the ship, the moment you saw Luffy, Ussop and Chopper begin their usual antics. They run and chase each other as rare days spent on the sea with no sight of enemy or island leave them gripping onto the games they would play to pass their boredom. You hear their laughter faintly in the back of your mind as they play a game of tag. You could hear Zoro grumbling in the background as he refused to take part in quote, such childish games. You hear Luffy and Ussop groan at his lack of taking part, but the three continue anyway, using their skills to avoid the other. You didn't mind the loudness or "childishness" as Zoro did. You were used to hearing joy echoing throughout the deck and with the sight of Luffy's contentment and mischief, you couldn't deny his fun.

Well, if it didn't involve you plummeting to your own demise.

The rush of footsteps got faster but you had been absentminded as you looked to the sky, swinging your feet periodically. Despite the shouting and laughter upon the ship, you salvage the moment of serenity as you watch clouds merge and fall apart again. The lull of the wind was heavenly on your skin, but suddenly you are pulled back to reality as a figure slams into your side and you lose balance. "L-Luffy!" You barely have a chance to take a breath as the world suddenly turns, and the wind that had been gently hugging your skin now rushes past you. You hear a faint cry of your name but it is lost in the cool water that shocks your system and the darkening of your surroundings. You watch as the round image of the sun starts to slip away as you sink deeper into the ocean. You move with all your might to try and reach the fading light but you have known too long it is helpless, and you already feel tiredness anchoring you.

Luffy turns as he realises he had slammed into you, about to apologise, but he merely sees you topple momentarily before being lost to the sea. "AHHH [y/n]!!" Luffy's eyes strain in shock at the image of you falling, and he feels his heart constrict. In the moment of panic, Luffy forgets that he himself can't go freely into the water and flies off the boat in the direction you fell. "Tch, Luffy! That damn idiot!" Zoro and Ussop look at him jump carelessly off the ship as they themselves get ready to go to the water; now they have not one but two devil-fruit users lost in the one place they cannot go. Ussop finds you almost immediately, sinking into the ocean with your eyes closed, and he swims faster to save you from the depths. Zoro sees his Captain much quicker seeing as he only just lept from the deck, and forces himself not to roll his eyes at the sight of his gaping mouth releasing bubbles into the water.

When finally, all four of you resurface, you feel slight energy return but still rely heavily on Ussop to pull you to the deck. You slump against the railing of where you sit as your eyes widen at the sight of Luffy being placed on the deck beside you, only now realising he had jumped in after you. Other crewmembers scurry around in their concern as they witness the sudden unrest, however, once they learn of what has conspired, Luffy earns a wack to his head from Nami that returns his consciousness. "Idiot, what would've happened if we lost [y/n], be more careful!" Instantly, Luffy perks up at the sound of your name and turns quickly to his side, eyes shining in his relief that you are safe. "[y/n]! I'm sorry!" You smile at his genuine care as he quickly makes sure you're all right, but as the crewmembers start to disperse you hold his hand to ease what worry betrays his eyes. "Luffy, I'm fine, just please no bumping me off the ship next time." You grin as he nods frantically, but he finally returns your smile. Luffy decides to spend the rest of the day fishing rather than running around. He laughs at the conversations you hold throughout, but deep down he is just relieved to see you safe upon his ship.

- Sanji-

The weather on the seas was unpredictable. In the past, you all bore witness to the tornadoes, whirlpools, abnormal waves and sudden storms that tilted what had been a once peaceful day. Despite knowing this, the crew often paid it no mind, leaving it to their Navigator to boss them around whenever the winds signalled a change. Today was no different. The sun had been shining above your head, warming the deck and luring your crewmembers outside. Your friends were in their usual places about the ship, some fishing, some sleeping, some lounging. You had been sitting with Robin and Nami, cradling drinks that Sanji had just prepared for you all. However, the conversation about new clothes you would purchase next was cut short, as amid your lighthearted laughter Nami perks up at the change in the wind. You witness her eyes widen slightly as she looks up, seeing abnormal clouds enter the blue of the sky.

Almost immediately, instructions are brought to the wind and crewmembers scurry from their spots. "Quickly, a huge storm's coming, we only have a few minutes!" The men of the crew move as you and Robin also go to help, Nami shouting commands into the suddenly darkening day. It had been going well, as though waves got choppy and sudden rain drenched the deck, you all managed to escape the breadth of the storm. Well, that was what you thought until you heard Nami's frantic shout as she turned to you distracted along the ship's railing. "[y/n]! Watch out!" Amid your subconscious mind, you look up only to be met by the sight of an abnormal wave about to crash onto the ship's deck, but you are too slow. You feel yourself get swept with the wave, as the ocean water makes you lose your grip on the railing and fall with the sudden tilt of the ship. You feel the cold water and imminent demise as you sink into the ocean. Your energy is lost and what's worse is you barely had the chance to take in a breath, feeling consciousness slipping away.

Your crewmates shout out at the sight of you suddenly gone from the ship, but one man's heart pounds loudest. The storm is still within range, and Sanji feels like his world has been stripped from him at the sight of you suddenly whisked away. "[y/n]!!" He runs as though his life depends on it because it kind of does. His legs are aflame as he leaps off the deck instantly, feeling the coolness of the ocean wash over him. He searches for what feels like eons underneath the darkening waves, and he feels his breath literally caught in his throat at the thought of you being too far gone. But finally, he sees the whisp of your hair and swims faster than before to gather you in his arms. When he does he holds you close to him, but his eyes widen at your unconscious state, willing him to resurface as quickly as possible.

When air touches his face again, he looks at you in his arms and fears the worst. "[y/n]!!" He shouts your name frantically willing your eyes to open as panic penetrates his mind, but finally, he sees your irises again. Relief fills his system at the sight of you spluttering water from your lungs and looking tiredly at the man in front of you. "S-Sanji." He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he hugs you tighter to him, letting out a laugh of relief. "Thank God, my love, you're safe." When he pulls you onto the deck, Chopper scurries to make sure you're alright, but as the ship moves further from the storm, you feel your energy seep back into your body. Though he tries to hide it, you witness the worry in Sanji's eyes as he moves quickly about you, giving you warm towels and soup. You smile at the gesture and pull him to sit next to you, holding his hand tight in reassurance. Despite your words of comfort and Sanji's absent-minded nods, he holds onto the fear he had mere moments ago and keeps his eye on you the rest of the day.

- Zoro -

You had been minding your own business. You had let the day lull into one of peace but decided to be productive in the last few hours of daylight. The day of surprisingly no foes or discrepancy brought one that could be spent doing the small tasks you had put off for several weeks now. You had finally cleaned out your wardrobe, added to your journal the abundance of adventures you underwent in the past month and were now taking the liberty of doing the laundry. The deck had been warm so you had used the sun's rays to the best of your ability, hanging clothes on strings in areas you thought it would be best to dry them. Among your subconscious thoughts, you hear the sudden yelling of voices from the kitchen and turn only to see the door wack open. "Damn cook!" You hear your boyfriend berate Sanji on something and witness as they make their way to the deck. "What did you say, mosshead?!" You roll your eyes at the sound of the usual arguments over something you couldn't decipher and turn back to the clothes in your basket continuing your task.

However, as you let yourself get whisked away to your thoughts, you fail to hear their footsteps approaching you closer, and they are too consumed by their irritation to notice you. "Shut up!" They suddenly start their flurry of movements, attacking the other, whether purposefully or not you didn't know, but you paid it no mind; they would resolve it as they usually did, or with Nami's wrath. However, as you turn away, you suddenly feel yourself knocked from the deck as a body is pushed into you. You fail to keep your balance, and suddenly you flip from beyond the railing and see the sky turn in your head. "W-wait!" You barely get the chance to take in a breath as cool water washes over you, and despite your shock, you feel the depths pulling you deeper. In your panic, you try to move, but the pace you move your limbs is fruitless as energy is lost with every passing second, and consciousness starts to seep away.

Zoro's eyes widen as he sees that though having successfully pushed Sanji away from him, he had in turn shoved him into you. And now, he witnesses failing arms as you fall from the deck into the ocean. His heart pounds. "Out of my way, idiot cook!" Zoro shoves Sanji from his place and dives into the water as if it were his second nature. Sanji curses his name, but once he realises your sudden absence from the ship he turns to the water quickly in his own concern. "[y/n]-san!?'" Zoro's only focus is getting you out of the water. He swims quickly to your sinking form but feels his heart race in his chest. He knows how easy it is to lose the one you loved, and he would be damned to have you lost to the sea because of something so stupid. When he finally has you in his arms he takes a millisecond to look at your passed-out face and feels himself panic as he rises to the surface. "[y/n]!!" He quickly tries to shake you awake, and almost holds his breath in anticipation. But finally, relief fills his senses as he sees you take in a shuddering breath, leaning heavily into him. "Zoro?"

Zoro lets out a sigh of relief as his heart rate returns to normal and the both of you get back on deck. He sits you gently on the ship as you gather air in your lungs and feel energy fill you once again. Zoro kneels before you and pushes wet strands of hair away from your face as you look up to see rare concern in his eyes. You smile and take the hand that reaches for your face. "Don't worry Zoro, m'fine." His eyes sharpen but he nods and tries to let his worry fade. Nami and Chopper quickly approach, having witnessed the series of events that had transpired. Chopper quickly goes to you but sees that you are okay after sitting with the sun's rays. However, Nami is less forgiving and quickly strikes both Sanji and Zoro's heads in her irritation. "You idiots!" After being struck, Sanji tries to apologise frantically to you, despite it sounding more like pushing the blame on Zoro. So, Zoro decides to finish him off with a punch to his ribs but despite himself, he settles and sits next to you. When you turn to him in question he merely says he feels tired and wishes to sleep. However, deep down he just wants to stay beside you and make sure you truly are safe and sound next to him.

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢

𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

୨ৎ pt. i

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: A reflection on the events that led you to your current predicament, in which you've been caught sneaking out of your best friend's mother's room... by your best friend... oops!

Content/Warnings: major canon divergence (see author's note), nsfw, reader is referred to w fem pronouns/has fem anatomy, top!ambessa, bottom!reader, age gap, oral (r receiving), sneaky library sex fuckkkk

A/N: fair warning! i am fully aware of the creative liberty i had to take here to craft a story in which mel and ambessa have a solid enough relationship that this was not a major betrayal on reader's behalf. i'm trying to strengthen my angst writing skills, but unfortunately, it just won't be at mel's expense lol. i'm sorry if you all were hoping for something angstier, but i just can't do nhe yet, so i hope you enjoy what i did write!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

It’d been about three months since you’d met your best friend’s mother. “She can be a bit… frosty,” Mel had warned, “but don’t mind it. She isn’t as scary as she likes people to think she is.”

That much, you would come to learn in the following months. 

At first, Ambessa refused to entertain the idea of having you; refused it in the daylight, at least. She couldn’t help where her mind wandered when her only company was the moonlight streaming in through her windows and a candle's flame dancing on her nightstand. 

Even then-even after knowing full well that she’d coaxed herself to sleep with images of you flickering behind her closed eyes and a hand in between her legs to accompany them-she refused to act on her attraction.

Ambessa was an esteemed Noxian general. Feared and respected by elites across the world. A grown ass woman. She did not “sneak around.”

And especially not with the girl seated next to her daughter at tonight’s progress day gala, who was giggling about something superficial, something childish, she automatically assumed. No- if Ambessa was going to share her precious time and affections with someone, they would need to match her wits and wisdom. They would need to be able to keep up with her. 

So, she brushes off how beautiful the young lady's berry-colored smile is, and scans the room for the nearest table of champagne flutes. 

She’d never been one for these events. There was always something better to do than stand around and make idle chit-chat, she thought. If there weren’t soldiers to command or negotiations to be made, there was at least a book that she was dying to get home to. In fact, that reminded her of the cliffhanger she left off on before she- “Not one for galas, I presume?” Annoyingly so, the sudden inquiry pulls her from the solace of her trailing thoughts. 

Her agitation is quickly extinguished when a berry-colored smile comes into view. 

Not that you can tell. She still looks as disinterested as ever.

“What makes you say that?” She deadpans, her rich voice smooth and steady. You thank the Gods that you’d chosen a long-sleeved gown to wear tonight, for if not, she’d surely see the goosebumps traveling down your arms.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feigning a casual confidence. “The brooding, perhaps.”

She cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly at your boldness. 

You don’t miss the corner of her mouth pulling up into an amused smirk. 

“I’m only kidding,” you smile back. “I just have a knack for spotting fellow introverts.” “You seem to be enjoying yourself well enough,” she muses, gesturing to where Mel spearheads the table’s conversion. 

“I enjoy Mel,” you correct, “and when your best friend asks you to play wingwoman for the night because the object of her affections is on the guestlist, you don’t say no.”

A low chuckle escapes the general. 

“Talis?”

“How did you know?” 

“How could I not? The girl is obsessed.”

This time, a chuckle of your own.

“She’s… insistent. Decides she wants something, and won't relent until she has it. But, she utilizes her ambition to fight for what’s right,” you continue, a warm smile now seated on your lips, “and for that, I have boundless respect and admiration for her.”

Ambessa feels her heart wrench.

Guilt.

If there was anyone who deserved someone as supportive as you in their corner, it was Mel. She would not get in between that. 

Not that she had begun to humor the idea of having you, anyway.

“She’s a wonderful girl,” Ambessa remarks softly.

You look over just in time to catch the somber expression with which Ambessa watches her daughter light up the room. She’s quick to school it when she sees you turn, taking a sip of her champagne.

Your words are soft, spoken with an undercurrent of understanding.

“She speaks highly of you.”

The muscle of Ambessa’s jaw tightens for a split second.

“She does?” she asks with a raised brow, trying her best to feign indifference, but you aren’t ignorant of the tumultuous path that has led the two women to their relationship today. They had both worked hard for the bond they now shared, and Ambessa treasures that bond more than she’s ever treasured anything else. 

“She does,” you affirm. “You’ve raised an excellent girl. You’ve also raised a literature fiend, who I can assure you is currently raving about all three of the books she plans to finish by the end of the month.”

Ambessa punches out a laugh. That’s when Mel’s head snaps in her mother’s direction; when she finds that you were the source of her mother’s laughter; when she’s thrust into the crisis that would plague her for months:

“Oh Gods… why do I like them together?!”

She wouldn’t dare speak of this revelation. 

You wouldn’t dare speak of being pressed against a library door with her mother’s lips trailing down your neck.

You’d both taken to roaming the halls of whoever’s estate this was after deciding that reprieve from the crowd would be more than welcome.

The library’s doors had been wide open, its walls of books luring you in. 

“Ooh,” you’d murmured mischievously, “shall we pop in and judge someone’s taste?”

Ambessa rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but follows closely behind anyway. 

“And what is your taste, dear?” she asks. 

With bright eyes and excited words spoken a bit too fast, you go on to share your favorite books and why they'd earned the distinction. She rears her head back, brows raised. 

“I must say… I’m impressed,” she admits. “You’ve mentioned some of my favorites as well.”

“Go on then,” you urge, taking a seat in a wingbacked chair, “I know you’ve got a thesis just waiting for an audience.”

She chortles, leaning against the desk in front of you. “Do you have a knack for spotting fellow bookworms, too?” 

You shrug with a smirk. “What can I say? I’m perceptive.” 

A smirk graces her lips as she scans you, but the look in her eyes is unreadable. It’s abandoned, anyway, when she begins discussing her interpretation of one of her favorite works; and when you interject with a counter thesis that truly has her stumped, she knows she’s screwed. 

She wanted someone who could keep up with her, didn’t she?

So now, here you are, lips swollen from where they were just pressed against her own until you couldn’t breathe. Her grip is firm around your waist as she cages you against the library's tall wooden door and trails open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Her hand snakes up your figure to tangle into your hair and tugs to expose more of your neck. She leaves a nip over your pulse, slides a muscled thigh in between your legs, and when you gasp as she presses in, she finally pulls away to lock eyes with you.

Her composure sends a chill down your spine.

“My daughter comes first,” she asserts. “Always. If at any point either of us believes that this arrangement could bring her harm, we cease immediately.”

Her words are sobering. You think of what this could mean for your friendship if Mel ever found out; of how on earth she’d possibly feel, of what on earth she’d possibly say. 

You’d cross that bridge when you got there, you finally resign, because you’re already soaked through your underwear.

“Of course,” you breathe with a nod. “I understand completely.”

A wicked smirk spreads across her face. She takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Good girl,” she croons; and when your jaw goes slack, she takes the opportunity to thumb at your bottom lip before the digit slides over its plush to rest on your tongue. 

Without thinking, you suck. 

“Very good.”

She pulls her thumb from your mouth with a pop, smearing a bit of your dark red lipstick on your chin in the process. 

“Your gown is lovely,” she muses innocently, as if she isn’t sinking to her knees and rucking up the dark red fabric. 

You stare down at her with wide, desperate eyes, your hand darting out to grab at her shoulder for support. 

“I apologize,” she suddenly chimes, slowly pulling your thin garment of lace and cotton down and out of her way, “we’ve already established a mutual disinterest in small talk, haven’t we?”

And then, she disappears underneath the gathered material of your dress. You brace yourself, hoping to the Gods you don’t come embarrassingly fast, but considering the way your legs twitch as soon as she brushes against your arousal, the odds are not in your favor. 

You feel your face heat up when she speaks up to confirm what a mess you are for her. 

“So wet for me already, darling. Do discussions on literature always turn you on this much?”

Your breathless chuckle is cut off by a whine when she presses her nose against your clit, her mouth hovering just over the slick pooling at your entrance. 

“You’re being mean,” you fuss, bucking your hips forward. 

She places a kiss upon the bud of nerves aching for attention, and a chuckle rumbles deep in her chest, sending vibrations through your core that have you clenching around nothing. 

“Oh, child,” she coos, tossing one of your legs over her strong shoulder, “You have no clue what mean is.”

You inhale sharply through gritted teeth as she finally licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Her mouth never leaves you, immediately closing around your pearl to suck; hard. 

You let out a squeak, earning yourself a quick pinch on the plush of your hip where she rests her hand.

“Make another noise and I’ll stop. You need to learn to be quiet if this arrangement is what you want.” 

You nod fervently. “Okay,” you exhale, tapping her shoulder in a desperate plea for her to continue, “okay, I’m sorry.”

She drags her tongue through your slick again, draws a circle around your clit with the muscle, dips into the nectar now dripping down your thighs.

“Such a messy girl,” she mocks, mouth still pressed against you. You bite down hard on your lip as she returns to her ministrations. Her tongue laps at your clit steadily now, only stopping every few moments or so to lap at the sweet taste of your arousal. 

Your chest heaves with labored breaths, and your legs are starting to shake. You're nearly delirious on her mouth, her languid strokes coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. 

She brings a thick finger to your entrance, but doesn’t even get the chance to press into you before you gasp, urgently whispering, 

“I’m so close- I’m gonna come.”

She chuckles knowingly. That much was obvious. Her finger slides up to part you like flower petals, and when her mouth latches onto your clit once more, you throw your head back against the door, hand flying over your mouth to conceal the whimper that escapes you. 

Your breath is jagged as you come down; that is, until she stands up and splays a hand across your stomach.

“Breathe, child.” It’s a command, leaving no room for disobedience. 

You take a deep breath in, eyes fluttering open on exhale. She stares down at you with something like pride. Approval. 

“How do you feel?” She asks, gently pulling your underwear back into place. With the handkerchief previously folded up in her back pocket, she first wipes at the smudge of berry-red lipstick adorning your chin, wipes your slick from her own mouth, and then folds it over to dab at the slick on your thighs before tucking it into her bra this time. She gingerly adjusts your dress, straightens your necklace, smooths out your hair. 

“Good,” you smile. “Really good.”

“Do you need a moment before we rejoin the party?” 

“I’m okay,” you shake your head. 

Her eyes narrow as if to ask if you’re sure. 

“Really. I’m fine. Unless I still look… you know…”

“Ravished?”

You chuckle shyly. “Y-yes…that.”

For the first time that you’ve ever seen, her eyes are warm. She tucks a tendril of hair behind your ear. 

“You look beautiful, darling.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Another three months had passed since. Months of stealing glances across extravagant dining room tables, or staying up all hours of the night in her study to discuss the books you were currently reading, or sneaking off to her bed chambers to let her devour you like a woman starved. 

You spare one last glance over your shoulder at the sleeping woman. You both knew the drill; you’d spend your nights together, accompanied only by the high moon and candlelight, but by day, Mel came first. 

Mel, who is now staring at you with a slack jaw, wondering why in the Gods’ names you’re tiptoeing out of her mother’s bedroom.

You were usually more careful, sneaking back down to Mel’s room where she thought you’d been all night before the sun even had the chance to break the horizon. You’d been less disciplined this morning, far less inclined to leave Ambessa with empty arms after she’d officially declared that she wanted you to be hers. Still, you'd be able to play it off perfectly well, you thought. You’d just pretend to have gotten up to use the bathroom or to fetch a glass of water. Neither of which necessitated being in Ambessa Medarda’s room. This unfortunate fact hits you like a train when you lock eyes with Mel. 

Your jaw goes slack, the color drains from your face, and your stomach drops.

As much as you try-as much as you want to- you can’t say anything. You’re not sure whether to be relieved or terrified when Mel speaks first instead.

“I’ll just… right… I’ll be in the kitchen. Having breakfast. You know. As one does.” 

You watch in horror as she awkwardly scrambles away, and tears prick your eyes as soon as she’s out of sight.

“My daughter comes first,” Ambessa had said. “If at any point either of us believes that this arrangement could bring her harm, we cease immediately.”

Your mind is racing. You wonder at what point this went too far, at what point you should have called it; and then, eventually, you figure that all this wondering will get you nowhere. 

Nothing would change the fact that you’ve been sneaking around with your best friend’s mother, and nothing would change the fact that now, she knows.

There was only one thing to do: be a big girl and face the music. 

You pad down the stairs, stomach twisting in knots when you begin making your way down the hall leading to the kitchen. You swear you’re about to hurl when you round the corner to find Mel and Jayce seated on barstools at the marble island, speaking in urgent, hushed voices. 

As much as you would have rather disappeared completely in this moment, you clear your throat instead, making your presence known. 

Jayce shoots up, running a hand through his hair. 

Damn it, you think, he only does that when he’s nervous. 

“I’ll, uh, leave you girls to it...” 

Your lips press into a thin line as he walks past you, leaving you alone with Mel. You take a step forward, wrapping your arms around you. 

“Mel…” you begin, voice already breaking, “I don’t… I don’t know where to begin.”

She rises from her seat, steeling herself for the conversation with a deep breath and a clenched jaw. Her green eyes bore into you. 

“Very well, then,” she begins, crossing her arms in front of her. “You can start by telling me how long this has been going on.” 

“Um…” 

You chew your lip, brows furrowing in an anxious concentration as you parse through the past few months for the beginning of your escapades with Ambessa. 

“It’s been about-”

Mel’s hand flies up to cover her mouth. 

A confused look appears on your face. Bit of an early reaction, you think…

And then, she snorts. 

She’s laughing. 

“Oh Gods, I can’t possibly keep this up; darling, you look like you’re about to faint.”

“What?” You whisper, eyes darting across her features as you try to make sense of what on Earth is going on. 

“Y/n,” Mel begins, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I know you’ve been seeing her.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. 

“What?! How?”

“Oh, please. I know a woman in love when I see one.”

Your jaw is slack, eyes narrowing in disbelief until, finally, you exhale. Your hand flies to your racing heart, relief washing over you. 

She isn’t angry. 

“In fact,” she continues, handing you a glass of orange juice, “I’ve been harboring a bit of a secret myself.”

You raise a brow, urging her to continue as you sit down on one of the stools.

“I'm quite positive that the two of you are a great match.”

You choke mid-sip. 

“What?” You cough, clumsily wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“It’s true,” she muses. “I’ve thought so since seeing her laugh with you at the progress day ball a few months ago. My mother doesn’t laugh.”

You chuckle at the assertion, though she’s completely serious.

“Then why try setting me up with all of those different people?” You wonder outwardly. 

“Tell me you wouldn’t have gotten suspicious if I’d suddenly stopped utilizing my impeccable matchmaking abilities,” she begins. “You would have started wondering if there was something wrong, and you know I can’t lie to you, so then I would have had to admit that the person I really thought you should be set up with was my mother.”

You giggle at the thought of that conversation, and Mel takes a seat beside you, resting her chin in her palm. 

“I do wish you’d told me,” she says softly. “I don’t like this secret-keeping business.”

A pang of guilt pierces you. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry, Mel. It really wasn’t ever supposed to go this far, but…”

“Here you are,” she states with a shrug and a knowing grin. 

“Here I am,” you repeat.

Mel shoots you a wink. “I know a woman in love when I see one.”

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Taglist: @ya-boi-v

[magickizu]

A Night At Arkham

Crossover dp x dc. So I've got this time line in mind, for my crossover AU and this is a snippet of it. Master Post: Lost Retirement

The bats received word, that Crane escaped Arkham a few days back. Apparently he used the commotion of new hires being shown around and getting all the attention, to get out. -He was the one who slipped through the seams! Sorry

As Batman returned him, Nightwing only left his side to see what's with these "new hires", that they not only seem to have gained the trust of the head doctor, but also to see if they got a hold on things...

Batman and Nightwing were already being expected by Dr. Arkham himself, security and two new faces. Usually it's more of a closed off team in the high security ward, so it took the bats by surprise to see two new faces amongst them, this suddenly.

A young red-headed doctor, seems about his age. Definitely a woman with whom Nightwing can't shake the mental image of the young dr. Harleen, except the glasses are missing and again, red-head- although she did have two streaks of blond at the front.

And a young, tall, larger man with black somewhat scruffy hair, bound into a white ponytail, in security. Somehow in general reminding him an awful lot of his younger brother Jason. Huh.

The barely conscious Crane was handed over to the guards keeping bound, as they headed back to his cell. The new doctor wrote something onto a clipboard probably recording everything from date, to time, to who- it's standard.

"Batman. ..and Nightwing too, fancy seeing you bring someone else around." Dr. Arkham greeted the duo. Batman hummed in response, as he did.

"Yeah... We located him in Bludhaven. He really thought, he could hide there." Nightwing chuckled, smiling friendly.

"But the bats will always keep a close eye on Gotham, I see?" Dr. Arkham smiled himself; of course it's not the first time he had met any of the Bat's protégés. It was always delightful to meet them.

"ha... hAH!! THAT IT IS!! THE TRUEST ART!!!-" Crane seemed to have regained his consciousness, as he called out. "So, so mesmerizing. So-" his breath hitched and he stocked. Before the two bats could do something, the new security guy grabbed him and something on Cranes face changed. The yet again patient locked eyes with the guy and his eyes filled with absolute terror, before he began to scream, yet the man dragged him off, with a little huff. What was it that the new guy did, that terrified the Scarecrow...?

"He'll be fine, please don't worry." The new doctor spoke softly, almost as if cooing false safety...

"Oh right," the head doctor spoke up and cleared his throat. "This is Dr. Nightingale. Fresh from college and highly capable, if I'm allowed to attest to her wit." He introduced his new protégé, as she smiled oh so sweetly and held out her hand.

"Thank you for your service and all that you do, to keep Gotham and her people safe." Batman took her hand, shaking it firmly.

"Pleasure meeting someone Dr Arkham deems worthy enough to be around such important situations..." The big bat offered. "Well, Crane has arrived safely. Sadly I must head off, still have certain things to do." As Batman turned away, his gaze met Nightwing's, who understood the next mission immediately: get more information about her, whatever way. They nodded.

"Yes, of course! Dr Nightingale, I trust you will be able to handle the rest? I would head back to my studies, then." The head doctor turned to his new protégé, she nodded and waved him off with a smile before turning back to the vigilante.

"So, you mentioned that you found him in Bludhaven, correct? Would you mind telling me, if dr. Crane was working on something specifically?" The young doctor asked, something that is not in the protocol. Nightwing felt the suspicion rise but played it down on the outside, instead he offered one of his more charming smiles. Yet before he could open his mouth, dr Nightingale spoke up. "Oh, excuse me. I would like to know, to maybe better understand and get into his head. It's a good way to connect with patients, when you show or at least pretend a common interest." She explained, apparently this right here redhead is just as smart and witty as, well... She does look good- objectively! Of course. ...

"Ah, I see. So the doctor really seemed have picked a good one!" The raven smiled and cursed himself on the inside. That is the most painful small talk he has ever had! -and he survived awkward small talk with both Jason and Damian... Okay, the later got better at it, as he grew. Fine then make it Jason and Bruce! "I mean, you really seem to want to help and believe in a chance for them. That is very good to know." Dick, you absolute moron... Then he heard an angel sing, as she giggled. Oh, he so had a typ- wait... Is that why B left him alone? This damned-

"Haha! Well I try to do my best, as do you I believe." She offered an out. Thankfully.

"He's back in his room. Made sure of it." A much deeper voice grumbled and next to the doctor stood the new security guard. When...? How, without...? Nightingale raised an eyebrow at him, suspiciously until the man sighs. "Don't worry, I didn't do anything." So they know each other, are probably even close. Now that they stand together, Nightwing can see that their eyes are fairly similar,as well as the shade of electric blue and- wow. Suddenly he realises, that this blue is no ordinary blue, even a little more vibrant than a Kryptonians eyes... Has B noticed it already?

"Sorry, while I don't intend on interrupting you two, but..." He meant to interlude, maybe he'll get a clue to their relationship-

"Oh, don't worry. My brother doesn't bite, even if he looks like he wants to." She giggled at the taller man's grumbling. Bingo. Maybe a last hook...?

"Well, in that case," Nightwing held out his hand, that the young doctor intended to take and shake, yet gently he grasped her fingers and guided her hand up. With a slight bow and his most charming of smiles, the vigilante gave her hand a kiss. "It was an absolute pleasure meeting you. We'll meet again eventually, miss...?" Aim, fire and-

The woman's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, while he just completely ignored the big guy growling at him. "O-oh..." She giggled again, seemingly enjoying the attention, giving her brother a small glare, as she took her hand back. "Still Dr Nightingale, but I sure do hope to see you around sir Nightwing." The way she said it, it sent shivers down Dick's spine and he grined a little goofy before turning away.

But he missed. A full name would have been good, but he's sure to get that information through Arkham's website. She's not alone, both strangers go together as brother and sister, so he's looking for at least two Nightingale's. Could there be more? Will there be less? She's got a PhD, so she must be registered in some university, as well as checking the meta register. Something about this terror-inducing stare the brother got going, that even Crane got scared, the way she somehow knew what he was feeling and reacting according... The bright electric blue was just, the tip of the iceberg.

While on his way back to the cave he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Oh boy... He really hoped, that her brother got an eye on his sister. If she's in the high security ward, chances are, she'll meet-... That bastard who took his brother. And he wouldn't want to wish onto her, what that asshole did to Harley...

He couldn't just let it go. Of course not! That is exactly why Dick was on his way, in his nightwing suit, after his patrol, a few days later, just to check in and make sure...

With the information he had, he'd found out that The young woman was dr Jasmine Nightingale, the security guard her younger brother Dante Nightingale. In addition there are two more siblings; Daniel, Dante's twin and Eliza, the youngest Nightingale. All are indeed registered as metas- which is why he didn't say anything to Bruce yet, even if they seem like civilians. Even if their parents seem to not exist, with mostly black hair and blue eyes, with which they fall into prime adoption bait territory. Just to be sure, you know?

Now he's finding his way around the asylum; not to get in, of course. For that he could've just taken the front entrance. No, Nightwing just wanted to catch a sneak peek, see if the new faces are settling in well. Okay, fine, maybe to also catch a glimpse at the nice, new and redheaded doctor-

His thoughts were unfortunately interrupted by sounds of shouting, barking commands and the firing of guns. Nightwing tensed up immediately, ready to get into action and help, as he was about to give Barbara the call on deck for another tried outbreak, yet the noices fell silent quickly again.

The vigilante was already on his heels to head inside, through a high up ceiling window and what he saw made his heart stop... -but not in a bad way!

The new recruit, this Dante Nightingale, was tying up about six unconscious goons in clown masks, together with another guy; the Joker? Also knocked out, just a few feet from his open cell door- he certainly did not get far this time, Nightwing thought. When they were done, with the guns out of reach, Dante wanted to get up, presumably to get the clown prince back into his confined, little castle of solitude. The raven in a domino watched incredulously in the whole situation, as his colleague made him sit down: he seemed to have gotten injured.

Just as the cell door closed, two more security guards came to, one with an aid kit the other from another direction, that should be somewhere in administrations if Dick can trust his memories. They talked about something he didn't hear, due to the distance and the fact of the thick and tempered glass between them. From his lipreading skills, he could only make out some keywords- god damnit, he really should ask Cass about teaching him properly!

But something about the police coming and save now and EMTs. Dante nodded in apparition, at one of his colleagues having aided him and bandaged him up. Just shortly after, he could hear the sirens growing louder...

Standing in the shadows of the building, in an alley near the gates to the asylum, Nightwing stood still, waiting patiently. It's been a few hours since it happened. Dante Nightingale walked out of the gate and Nightwing moved,

"I know you're standing there, you don't need to hide." The Badger haired man called out, needless to say, the vigilante was surprised, but hey if he's that good, maybe more of them will stay locked up. Nightwing chuckled softly, trying to show that he means no harm.

"Am I getting bad at hiding or are you just good at it?" Of course he couldn't help himself, it's also a nice icebreaker, "You were also the guy who got the Scarecrow save to his cell, a few nights back right?"

"Yeah, and you're the hero who shamelessly flirted and got dumped by my sister. I remember." Ouch, but fair. Despite his deadpan tone, the trained eyes of the bird can see that the man in front of him, indeed, loosed up. And hey, that jab at his ego, made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "So what you doing here? As far as I've read up on you lot, you are usually up in Bludhaven."

"Oh, yes. I just needed to head to a meetup and heard the gunshots. Did something happen? Are you okay?" Nightwing asked, still concerned about the wound this man is just seemingly walking off.

"Eh... 'm fine." Nightingale shrugged his shoulders. Lier. Nightwing could see the outlines of the bandages underneath his shirts and- wait a minute... This man is wearing nothing but a simple black sweatshirt and light blue, slightly ripped jeans, well and his bag with work gear probably- "But,..." his attention was captured again by the other man, "...this Joker guy has many hidden hands around. A few days ago I cut his secret ways of communications, which is why a little raid happened. Those poor bastards thought it was their sign. Maybe keep an eye open, would be nice." Dante Nightingale said then, as he fixed his back and turned to leave.

"Wait... Wait!" The words finally registered with Nightwing and the man stood still again, waiting for any words, looking down at the vigilante.

"What."

"...how will I know to trust you?" It came from the other suddenly.

"You don't. Neither do I. But I respect that you seem to do an at least half-descent job, so there's that." With that he simply turned back around and left Nightwing all to himself. After he crossed the road, a lonesome car drove by and in an instant the man was gone.

Nightwing stared perplexed, how did he do that? But... He's right. Plus, these two seem to do equally well a good job, yet something's just itching in the back of his mind. Clawing at him, that somehow, in some way, something seems... Different about them. But yet again, that could also just be one of their meta abilities.

Just one thing is for certain; oh he's so going to accompany Batman again, if a rogue gets out, because wow... Incredible to admit, but both have uhhh... Certain appeals. Oh boy, he's definitely looking forward to having a reason to swing by so long one of them is there!

@georgiefreddie0829 @shirasorin

[violet-eng]

f!reader reacts to Zhongli (Morax)! "apoptosis" during Rite of Descension | angst + 🔞 NSFW

So... I've always wondered how Zhongli's close friends (let's pretend he has close friends) would react to his death during the Rite of Descension...

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Summary: Zhongli and you are a couple, and you know he's Rex Lapis. How would you react if your beloved dragon boyfriend dies in front of your eyes during the Rite of Descension? Or worse yet, how would you react if you found out that he is actually alive?

Tw: Angst (a lot), smut, 🔞, MDNI, p i v, nipple sucking, words of hate during sex (i hate you), mentionsof death.

🎨 by: Nid417 2k words.

╚════════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═════════╝

The soft caress of Zhongli's fingers on your forehead woke you up in the morning, bringing you back to the earthly realm and wrenching you from the comfortable sleep you had taken as a reward for your performance the night before. Like every night, Zhongli had abused you in bed, using you until he left his empty balls in your belly. 

The light streaming through the window, the rays of sunshine heralding a new day, brighten your face as you realize that Zhongli has gotten out of bed. You watch him get dressed, the shirt covering his arms, golden marks on his dark skin, the marks of your nails on his back, crimson traces open to the passage of your passion.

"Today is going to be a long day," your ardent lover says as he adjusts his tie, "I'm sorry to have to wake you, it's never my intention to cause you any discomfort, but I'm afraid on this occasion it was absolutely necessary."

"The Rite of Descension is today, I had forgotten," you mention, leaning back on your elbows and rubbing your eyes, the locks of hair falling over the valley of your breasts, the sheet covering you sliding down to your waist, giving Zhongli a magnificent view as he adjusts his pants.

"When it's all over, we should have dinner... and then maybe try our luck at starting a family," he says, though it's hard to make out his words because of the volume of his voice. Zhongli speaks with a tinge of nostalgia, a back and forth of dark feelings and a melancholy aura, he has been in this state for several weeks now.

"I guess there's no point in me asking you again what's wrong with you today," you say, embellishing the sentence with a subtle laugh, sometimes your dear Morax is very secretive about his feelings and manages to become hermetic and unshakable as a rock, today is one of those days.

"I promise you that once the Rite culminates, all your questions will be answered," he says, sitting next to you, caressing the curve of your back and tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. One of Zhongli's favorite images is your face when you wake up...especially the morning after a good fuck. There's something about your puffy eyes that drives him crazy, or the scarlet color on your skin from his teeth the night before that makes him lose his mind, whatever it is, he finds you to be the most charming creature he's ever met in his millennia of existence.

"I only ask you," Zhongli says, continuing the conversation, keeping the cryptic tone he had a few moments ago, "I only ask you not to be afraid, no matter what you see, do not be afraid. I will come back to you no matter what happens”

"You always do," you say as you turn around, your face lit up with a smile and your breasts in full view as you reach out a hand that manages to caress his cheek, "that's our contract, darling, you always come back to me."

Zhongli fiercely fights the desire to fuck you at this moment, these words and this image you have given him.... He takes a deep breath before getting up from the bed, ignoring his instincts. There will be time to indulge your carnal desires.

You know the Rite of Descent in detail, you have witnessed it and heard it performed firsthand. This time there is nothing out of the usual, perhaps a new face or two, but nothing out of the ordinary. You find yourself looking forward to what will happen next, and perhaps during the night you will comment to Zhongli how strange it is to see him in his draconic form, and how sweet you find his empathic act of introducing himself to the....

The rumble of the lifeless body of the Lord of Liyue falling echoes through the place. The offerings table is a mess, and the ensuing uproar even more so. There is talk of murder, the Millelith rushes in pursuit of the suspects, and as the rest of the crowd disperses, you lie in place, frozen, stunned by what you have witnessed. You bring your hands to your chest in a reflex to stop the heartbeat that seems to pierce your skin, the sound of the Millelith's footsteps confused with the thumping rhythm of your heart, your lip trembling and your hands sweating, your trembling fingers clutching the fabric of your clothes, trying to bring you back to reality as you watch the body of your beloved Morax lying lifeless before your eyes.

"Tell Wangsheng Funeral Parlor what happened," Keqing orders you... or is it Ningguang's voice? " Y/n! There's no time to waste, go!"

Much to your chagrin, you find yourself running to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, your eyes on the verge of bitter tears and deep weeping, but you cannot afford to do so, not when you cannot explain your reaction to others. You walk down the stairs, wondering: Did Zhongli's recent attitude mean that he suspected that someone wanted to kill him, and if so, why didn't he trust you? The questions cloud your mind, you stumble over some people while debating with yourself, Zhongli knew it, in short, that's why he had such a mysterious attitude lately, he knew he would abandon you? No, you're cursing yourself, you can't think about him like that, especially now that he's... You can't even think of the word, Morax, Rex Lapis, your beloved Zhongli, is an immortal being who has traveled miles of life, he is a powerful being, the strongest of the gods... or he was... ....

You resign yourself to the facts, to the image of the dragon lying on the rubble, his chest motionless, his eyes lifeless... you had not even been able to say goodbye to him that morning. With regret gnawing at your heart, you burst into Wangsheng's funeral parlor and called out to Hu Tao.

"Rex Lapis," you say with a lump in your throat, as she grabs your arms and asks you to calm down, "Rex Lapis is..." you pause over your words as the figure of your lover emerges from one of the offices.

"Y/n" Hu Tao agitates you, but you are absorbed in the image coming towards you, the way Zhongli hurries to give you a drink.

"He's dead," you manage to finish the sentence without taking your eyes off Zhongli. Hu Tao is shocked by this and laments over such an unfortunate event, delving into theories that could have led to something like this happening.

"There is no reason to jump to conclusions at a time like this," Zhongli suggests, "Ninnguang must need help.

It is Hu Tao who leaves the place at his subordinate's suggestion, leaving him in charge of your welfare, your poor condition being too obvious to the average eye. It is just the two of you in the room, the sound of commotion outside is beyond reproach, but at this moment, you are oblivious to what is going on outside.

Zhongli holds out his coat to you, draping it over your shoulders and adjusting the collar over your chest, you holding the drink he offered you a few moments ago. You analyze him closely, your eyes scanning him in detail, taking in every inch of his image. 

"Y/n," he whispers as he caresses your shoulders, his hands coddling your arms, looking at you like an infant about to cry.

"Zhongli," saying his name feels like breathing out your last breath of life. You bring your hesitant hand to his face, a reflection of your desire to check if what you are observing is real. You press his skin against your palm, and he leans into the familiar touch of your caress.

"My beautiful y/n, I beg your forgiveness" he muses as he moves the cup away from your hands, to take your small limbs between his, kissing your knuckles gingerly.

The gesture causes you to burst into tears, to throw yourself into his arms and release the sea of bitterness and pain that had built up in your chest. Zhongli pulls you close to him, wrapping you in an embrace that he hopes will never break, that he hopes will prove how sorry he is for the hurt he has caused you. You ask him for explanations between sobs, you reproach him for not being clear with you, for letting you believe he was dead, you beat his chest in agony and resentment, and he allows you to do so, if it were up to him, you could actually kill him at that very moment, he deserves no less, not when he has made you shed tears for him so bitterly.

"You should have told me" you whimper, and your legs start to shake. The burning in your chest grows and you feel like you will faint at any moment. Zhongli senses it, senses every change in your organism, so he hurries to ask you to return home.

The road passes in silence, Zhongli has put his arm around your shoulder, and along the way he has showered you with pleas to redeem himself, but you ignore him, you don't even look at him, and that hurts him deeply.

You cross the door and go into the room to lie down on the bed, finally you can no longer use your legs, you have never felt so weak, so useless... You let out the rest of your cry on the pillows, leaning on your hands, your chest heaving for air, the shock hasn't completely left you...

Zhongli approaches you and puts a hand on your back, but you clearly warn him not to come near you, not to touch you, and maybe you are being too hard on him, but it is what you think he deserves. 

"Go away," you order sharply, "you're supposed to be dead... you..." you speak nonsense, it's the pain of shock that overwhelms you.

"What are you saying?" Zhongli exclaims in anguish, searching for your face, though you hide it well for him. He struggles with you, trying to bring you to your senses, "I'm here, my love, it's me... I'm alive," he says, taking your hands and pressing them to his chest, where his desperate heart beats in desperation. You look at him pitifully, your eyes drenched with tears, your lip trembling.

"This is the heart of a living man," he says, "and this is the warmth of a living man's skin," he says, bringing your hands to his neck and chest, unbuttoning his shirt in a desperate act, and as the shock of his desperation strikes your complexion, you seem to snap out of your trance.

"Zhongli..." you finally whisper.

"Here I am, beautiful, I came back for you..." he muses, pressing his forehead against yours.

"You always..." you falter, "you always come back to me," your breath mingles with his, as hot as yours. You rush to his lips, so eager to taste his breath of life, the divinity escaping his mouth like groans as you bite his lip, pressing it harder against your mouth.

"This is our contract," Zhongli says between kisses, a trickle of saliva between the two of you as he removes his shirt and your clothes.

He fucks you with anger, with desire and a burning he didn't know he was holding back. And you scream, your moans high and boisterous, not caring what is happening outside or how sacrilegious it is that you are fucking while everyone outside is suffering the death of Rex Lapis... the same Rex Lapis who is pounding on your cervix with fervor and enormous force, the same one who is massaging your clitoris while sucking on one of your nipples.

"I hate you," you spit angrily, drowning out your moans as you cling to his arms.

"It's what I deserve," he says, just as vulgar as you, sonorous and quite vocal, resting one of your legs on his shoulders, "hate me all you want, y/n, but then scream my name when you cum and when you give birth to our children."

"You bastard," you moan as your fingernails leave scarlet marks on his sculpted shoulders, "don't stop.... Zhongli, don't stop," the way he pounds you is delicious and your guts know it as they twist in a hot knot as his cock makes its way into your pussy.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he repeats, not stopping his assault, settling on top of you to look at the bulge rising in your belly where his cock is abusing you. He puts one of his hands on yours, the other massaging your thigh and the flesh on his shoulder, looking at you with a devotion that you do not recognize, as if you were a treasure, a goddess....

His hips crash mercilessly against yours, and you, as spiteful as you are horny, can't help but make the most vulgar sounds you can. You feel Zhongli's balls slapping against your skin, the frantic movement in and out of your pussy, the way something inside you seems to snap from the force of his penetration. He has you wide open for him, fully exposed, and he gives himself to you like the devotee he is when he fucks you, seeking only your pleasure.

"Zhongli..." you moan as one of your fingers gently caresses the line that divides his scarred abdomen, your digit running down the valley of his rock hard muscles....

"Let me take care of you, darling," he says, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it, leaning down to capture your lips with his mouth. His tongue penetrates the roof of your mouth and you feel your throat receive the visit of such a welcome guest.

Zhongli turns you over, your body snug against the sheets, your face deep in the mattress, and he on top of you. He continues to stir your loins as he lets his chest fall on your back, his face sinking into your shoulder, and you feel that this way, so close to him, he has better access to you. His cock twists in your favorite spot, the one that makes you let out a yelp and reach out a hand for support, grasping the silk between your fingers. Zhongli intertwines his hand with yours, and there, trapped beneath his body, at the mercy of his relentless assault, he whispers a "I love you" with deep regret.

"Zhongli," you moan, completely trapped between the bed and how well he is fucking you, your hands trapped in his, "I love you...damn it...I love you," you cry out as you convulse beneath him, your orgasm erupting as he bathes your velvety walls with his white seed.

You turn your face to breathe. Zhongli doesn't let go or leave you. You stay like this for a moment, enjoying the heat the other gives off. Zhongli kisses your shoulder blade and you feel the remains of his cum leave you as he pulls his cock out of your abused hole. The empty feeling makes you moan. He doesn't let go of you at any point, clinging to you as he lies down and sets you beside him, wrapping you in his arms, securing you in an embrace as he leaves deep kisses on the back of your neck and shoulder. Your chest heaves for air, the ecstasy you feel is unlike anything you have experienced before, no previous encounter has ever been like this.

"I didn't mean it," you say, your voice hoarse, your throat scratchy from shouting, "I don't hate you...I couldn't," you turn to him, meeting amber eyes that look at you with calm and deep regret.

"Do you forgive me?" he asks in a sweet, syrupy, insistent tone. 

"My dear Morax," you whisper, taking refuge in his chest, "I forgave you the moment I felt your aching heart beat with concern for me."

These words are enough for Zhongli to ease the weight he was carrying so that he can rest his chin on your head and breathe in the scent of your hair, mixed with the smell of sex in the room.

He strokes your back, running his fingers over your small human form, downplaying the commotion outside, focusing only on you and your well-being....

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Reacting To Your Tattoos

A/N: I have so many ideas for The Boys cast! Be sure to look out for more posts! I'm updating my request list to include them 😊 I'm sorry I've been a little MIA! I'll be getting back to requests asap! Hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher loves them. This is not the moment to say something, to react, but he definitely takes notice. You got hurt, really hurt, and the only way to save you was for Annie cauterizing your wounds, buying you a little more time. Butcher didn't need to hold you down, you'd already gone limp, losing all color in your face. He begs you to wake up, to stay with them. There was so much blood. So much red. He was covered in it, seeping through his shirt. Your jacket was thrown off, the collar of your shirt torn, ripped, for easier access to your shoulder and they both discovered the tattoos. Your chest, your arm, neck, you were covered. He had a feeling there were far more, wondering why you never showed any of them. You were always so bundled up, he never even questioned it. He warned you this was going to hurt, though he wasn't even sure you could hear him. Still, as Annie's hands grew bright, he cringes, hoping you were too out of it to feel anything, hoping this would all seem like a far away dream. Hoping you won't mind the large scar that will warp your ink.

Hughie is pretty intimidated by them. The Boys are already a scary looking group, but meeting you, he thought you were going to bite off his head. Your body was pretty covered. After getting to know you, he realizes how wrong he was. You're snarky and stubborn, but you're also thoughtful and funny. If it were up to you, you'd never hurt a fly, just Vought. Still, every so often you'll do or say something that reminds him of that first impression, especially when you feel threatened or your friends are threatened. You'll show up with a few new ones, filling in the gaps. When it comes to open wounds you're ready to treat it with a strong drink and duct tape. When it comes to your tattoos, you're meticulous in your aftercare. He's never seen you so serene looking as when you're taking care of them, so gentle. Something about that makes him feel like he shouldn't be witnessing it, but he's grateful that he is. When they're in tricky spots, he's the first to offer to help. He works with nervous hands, afraid he'll do something to ruin it. You just laugh, walking him through it.

Annie knows all about your tattoos. They are, after all, linked to the V in your blood. You didn't start developing them until your late teens, your parents assuming the V they injected was a dud. Images started appearing and with them, your powers. By the time she met you, you were covered. You didn't like showing off to The Boys. You still had a long way to go to gaining their trust. Parading around the fact that you were a Supe wasn't going to help. Still, when it was just you and Annie you were less reluctant to show her. All kinds of images adorned your skin: weapons, insects, animals. You liked the weapons the best. The thing could project itself from your skin as if it were real. In seconds, you had a sword in each hand, as real and sharp as if you'd physically gotten one. The best part? Your skin was indestructible. Every few months, maybe years, a new tattoo would appear, giving you a leg up in the fight against Vought. She thinks you have by far the most interesting powers of any Supe she's met.

M.M. hates them. Because they're linked to the V you got as a baby, he sees them more of a warning than anything else, the way brightly colored animals are poisonous. He hadn't realized the first time you met, what they were from, and you were smart enough not to tell him. It was only when you were fighting for your life did you use your abilities: the circles on the back of your neck, layered, you let out a sonic scream that shattered windows, set off car alarms, and drew blood. The group that had attacked you were coughing it up, it was running down their necks from their ears. M.M. was far enough away not to be affected, but the way he tells it, he was *this* close to having his insides turned to goo. Some were safe enough to run away. The ones who were closer dropped dead with a wet squelch. He trusts you even less for not telling him. When he breaks the news to everyone else, he's shocked to find out that they either knew (like Annie) or they were unfazed, more impressed than anything else, like you'd become this great asset. You apologize profusely, but you know it'll be a long time before he can even look you in the eyes.

Frenchie thinks they're so cool. He went with you once and got one of his own: while you were getting a rather large piece finished, he wants to get a smiley face on his ass cheek. Despite the discomfort, Frenchie's all giggles. He's more than excited to show this off to everyone he decides to moon. You try to tell him how to take care of it, but he waves you off. He's eager to show The Boys. He's lucky it heals properly and by the end of the week, everyone he comes into contact with has seen it. Besides that, his favorite thing is to study the ones you have. They're intricate and beautiful and some of them are pretty silly. You never understood the sentiment that there had to be some grand kind of meaning behind them. If you like it, you get it tattooed. He asks questions about them, most done all over the world or, a couple, in prison. He thinks you look badass, especially when you shed the bulky layers and show off what they normally don't get to see. Your back piece is his favorite. When you're wearing something with a low back, or disregard a shirt completely, he can't help but watch you. You're careful, covering them with clothes or makeup so that whatever illegal thing you're doing can't be traced.

Kimiko asks a lot of questions. Did it hurt? Why that image? What does it mean? How long did it take? You never mind, in fact you like talking about them. You spent enough time getting stabbed, you wanted someone to ask. She especially loves the ones on your hands. They look beautiful as you sign back to her. Some are still a little raised despite how well you took care of them, those are her favorite. She touches them delicately, afraid it might hurt, but you assure her they're all healed. She watches when you're getting changed together, how they move with your skin and muscles. They make her smile knowing you feel so much more at home in your body because of them, something you admitted to her late one night after a few drinks. They help you like yourself, covering up insecurities, making you feel cuter/cooler than you would without them. She's always the first to notice when you get a new one, making a point regardless of the situation to tell you how nice it looks and that she likes it a lot.

Bonus! Homelander thinks they're horrendous. Disgusting. Just another way you've defiled your body. He can't stand to look at them and made sure you understand that. Around him, you keep them covered, either by clothing or makeup. You know better than to draw attention towards them. Regardless of how you acquired them (Compound V or just an aesthetic choice) you know not to bring them up or let anyone else bring them up. A-Train noticed the one of the back of your neck and that put Homelander over the edge. You were both thrown out of the room. You consider yourself more than lucky. He could have killed you, both of you, but he was feeling generous. He had bigger things on his mind. You knew working for Vought would lead to sacrifices, uncomfortable situations, but being interrogated by Homelander about your tattoos was never something you ever considered. He thinks about using his lasers every time he sees them poking out from your sleeve or pants. But he needs you. As long as he needs you, you're safe. The moment you stop being useful, he's going to cut off every individual image until there's nothing left. Until you look normal again.

[faeryeo]

this is where i want to be

જ⁀➴ jung wooyoung x fem!reader

༄ aftercare with wooyoung ♡

wc; 760

cw; mdni, aftercare, references to sex, pet names, established relationship, they are so in love, just so soft, woo is a sweetheart :(

notes; not sure where this came from. just got a sudden craving for doting wooyoung providing aftercare<//3

🎧 heavenly & nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex

As you lay on your bed, gentle hands wiping your legs clean, you slowly come to recognize the tune Wooyoung is humming. Heavenly. A smile tugs at your lips, your closed eyes crinkling at the sides from a feeling you can't contain. You know Wooyoung doesn't even realize it's something he does, and so consistently that to you it's just part of the routine that comes after sex. Maybe it's his unconscious need to fill the silence, or just one of his many way of keeping you grounded that comes so naturally. It certainly works wonders for easing your mind into a state of what can only be described at pure bliss. Unable to do much else but turn putty in his hands as he takes care of you in all the ways he needs to feel satiated after love making.

Intimacy with Wooyoung can be many things. Rough and fast, slow and gentle. This part never changes though. Him at the end of the night, cleaning you of your shared bodily fluids in the most careful way. He hums a light tune or places words of praise into your skin between scattered pecks the whole way through.

As the wash cloth reaches your core, you whimper at the sensitivity. Tonight had been one of the rougher nights, albeit no where near fast. No - Wooyoung took his precious time taking you apart, bit by bit. Somehow having more patience than you've ever seen from him when it came to edging you for what could've only been hours. And even when he finally let you come for the first time, it was only the beginning.

"'m sorry," Wooyoung all but whispers. His free hand, previously propping himself up on the bed, moves to rest comfortingly on your hip. "Does it hurt?"

You shake your head, eyes feeling much too heavy for how badly you just want to look at him, and be a witness to the affection you can clearly hear seeping into his words, "No. Jus' sensitive."

Your slurred speech bubbles a quiet laugh from his chest, and you absolutely have to force your eyes open to see the absolute vision before you. Jung Wooyoung is just that on any regular day. Now, he must be nothing short of a dream. Rested in between your legs for what is far from the first time tonight, this image causes a different feeling to swirl within your gut. His smile, his tousled hair, his reddened chest, neck, and face - no matter how many years it's been, he always manages to take your breath away.

The adoration you feel can only be satisfied by having him in your arms, right now. You can't stand it another second. Whining, you tug at his wrist weakly. Feeling too spent to explain yourself more but the pout forming on your lips is telling only to him. Only Wooyoung knows you this well, only he can make you feel like this, as if your chest might burst from having so close yet not close enough.

"Almost, baby," he placates, rubbing at your side. "I'm almost finished."

You don't argue. Too tired and too enamored to do much more than stare, at the small upturn to his lips and soft eyes. His own gaze rakes over your body as if you're the most precious thing in the world. To him, as he'll tell you time and time again, you are.

“Always so good for me,” he praises. You squirm, suddenly feeling shy in the absence of burning need but content and so very loved.

True to his word, Wooyoung puts the cloth aside after a few more minutes of quiet admiring. You open your arms, an irrefutable invitation that he gladly accepts. He falls into your awaiting embrace and goes boneless in an instant. You huff a laugh through your nose.

His presses a drawn out kiss against your neck, and you bury your face into his hair. Eventually you’ll both have to get up to take a proper shower, but you’re in no hurry. Wooyoung will likely become restless before long - making you get up to eat a snack and change the sheets so you can both sleep comfortably, but for now he seems equally fine with just this.

"I love you, Woo," You mumble into his hair. He shifts, holding himself up to look at you threw half lidded eyes with that same sunny grin as if he couldn’t be any happier. You think you’d live in this moment forever if you could.

"I love you more, angel.”

[writememysticfalls]

Unfaithful | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: "Jackson turned to you, his eyes hard and black. What he said was not a question. “You were fucking the vampire.”"

You're meant to marry Jackson today - but Elijah keeps getting in the way.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Genre: Suggestive, Angsty

Word count: <1k

“I'm so sorry I'm late,” you breathed, as you ran into the cabin in the Bayou.

Two young girls held out your wedding dress for you to step into. It was a rough moon-white, with tendrils that wrapped around your brown legs.

Jackson was in the corner, buttoning up his shirt over the rough brown planes of his chest.

“Where were you last night?” he said gruffly. “We all expected you.”

“I needed to clear my head.”

“No, scratch that,” Jackson said. “I knew exactly what you were doing. Or who you were doing.”

“Be very careful what you're suggesting, Jackson,” you said, following him.

Jackson turned to you, his eyes hard and black. “I'm suggesting you were fucking the vampire.”

Your mouth fell open. You hadn't seen Elijah in weeks. Last night, you had fallen asleep over a book on Crescent wedding ceremonies.

“Kids!” Jackson’s grandmother said, touching your shoulders. “I don't care what little fight you're having. You need to make that crowd out there believe your love story, 100%. They won't join in unless they believe this marriage will last forever.”

Jackson’s voice was chilling in your ear. “I'll play the part. But just know, this wedding means nothing **to me.”

“Thank you so much for being here to witness our love!” Jackson called to the audience.

“You're holding my hand too tight,” you hissed. He was almost crushing it with his werewolf strength. He let go.

“Yes, thank you!” you repeated.

The two of you stood there awkwardly. Whispers spread through the crowd. Could they tell you were fighting?

“Pick me up,” you whispered.

“No way am I-” Jackson started, but then he gritted his teeth and scooped you into his arms.

You clung to the warm firmness of his chest. “Jackson!” you giggled, stroking his shirt. “Put me down!”

Jackson laughed, and spun you around. You leaned into his chest, your dress fluttering in the breeze.

“Sorry, folks!” he called. “I just can't keep my hands off this beautiful woman!”

The audience cooed. You were shocked - you almost believed his joyful tone.

Soon, you had reached the final, and most important, part of the wedding. Night had fallen, and the crescent moon wavered on the water of the Bayou.

Jackson and you were standing, holding hands. Behind each of you was a curved line of unlit bonfires.

Jackson’s grandmother called, “The couple’s minds and hearts are linked. They must each think of the person they most love, and the bonfires will burst into flame, symbolising the eternal fire of their marriage.”

“I will go first,” Jackson announced.

His strong arms wrapped around yours to the elbow, keeping you warm in the chill breeze.

He closed his eyes.

Jackson had treated you like dirt - worse than dirt - all day. That's why you were stunned when you saw inside his mind.

Suddenly, you were filled with a feeling of love, so powerful you would have collapsed onto the ground in tears if he wasn't holding you.

Images flashed through your head.

ANDREA LABONAIR, the name wished on every birthday candle, every shooting star, for twenty years.

You, newly arrived in the Bayou, your brown cheeks glowing with passion. Your fierce cheekbones and proud chin made it clear what you were - a princess.

A surprisingly soft side - your smile as you accepted Jackson’s engagement ring.

You heard a huge whoosh. You opened your eyes, and saw that the six bonfires behind Jackson had burst into flame.

Jackson’s lip was twitching, his eyes wet, as he looked at you. It was a kinder look than you deserved.

“My turn,” you called out, taking Jackson’s hands. You took a deep breath, and focused.

The soft brown muzzle of the wolf, peeking out at you in the Bayou. An instant feeling of safety.

Jackson, at the bonfire party, his crooked smile as he flirted with you.

Fire flickered up on the bonfires - then died out again. Everyone in the crowd started whispering.

You breathed hard, digging your nails into Jackson’s arms.

“Y/n,” he said, under his breath. “Listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Give me a minute. I've got this.”

“Y/n,” he said, and his voice was so broken that you stopped to listen. “It doesn't work like that,” he said. “Love shouldn't be this hard.”

“It's not hard,” you whispered.

Jackson stroked your arms, giving you a lopsided smile. “You don't need to protect me. Nobody else can see what you're thinking about. So just do it.”

“No,” you said, screwing your eyes shut.

His voice was urgent. “Please. I need this wedding to work.”

“Don't say it,” you breathed.

Jackson’s breath shook, and for a second, you thought he might call the whole wedding off.

Then, he said, “Think about Elijah.”

You gripped Jackson’s arms tight enough to hurt. He groaned. You knew he was preparing himself for the worse pain to come.

It was a strange feeling - breaking down the barriers you had carefully built in your mind and letting yourself think about Elijah. It was like stepping backwards off a cliff and letting yourself fall.

Jackson’s grin, his chestnut eyes flashing.

The image faded.

It was slowly replaced by the feeling of ice cold water on your body. A pool, glowing blue. Two strong arms on your waist, supporting you. White shirtsleeves rolled up over rough brown skin. Elijah’s concerned eyes, the centre of your vision.

Elijah pulling your arm back to him, later that night. Pulling your waist to his and kissing you, hard, on the mouth. Your body bending back under his fierce grasp. The cool, minty taste of his tongue.

The image changed, and Elijah’s body was over yours, the wood of the floorboards cold under your back. He sucked your neck, making it ache in the best way. His hands sent shivers down the backs of your thighs. He pulled your body, hard, towards him.

Afterwards, his forehead pressing against yours. You were both smiling too much to kiss, your teeth bumping each other’s.

“I love you, Elijah,” you said, biting your lip.

He frowned. “Don't say anything you don't mean-”

“I love you,” you repeated, your lips opening to meet his.

There was a terrifying whoosh as six bonfires exploded into flame at once. The flame jumped off the logs, lighting the grass, as if it would burn the whole forest down. Thankfully, it died down.

Firelight burned in Jackson’s eyes. He was panting, mouth, open, like he'd just been wounded. You could taste the salt of your own tears.

You turned to face the cheering guests, gripping Jackson’s hand.

“I love you, Hayley,” Jackson called, and you knew he meant it.

You took a deep breath. “I love you too, Jackson.”

And in that moment, you sounded so convincing, you almost fooled yourself.

_

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[birdsong-goeson]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.9k words, part 3)

Summary: Valeria prepares to take you back at all costs and she thinks back to the days of your happy love. Alejandro's jealous interest turns into something more sinister as he continues to intimidate you. The tables turn as Valeria makes her first move.

TW: threat of (sexual) violence. (Also Google Translated Spanish)

I didn't expect to write Alejandro so darkly, sorry! I'm also working on the next part! I'm aiming to finish this fic before the 10th because that's when I'm flying to my home country for the rest of August, and I won't have the space to be as active or to write with privacy. Also thank you for all the love you've sent my way, I really appreciate all the attention and it makes me very happy. Enjoy part 3!! :D Link to A03 Part 1 and Part 2

Valeria was a well-inked woman, her tattoos were typical for someone who made their living within the hostile environment of a cartel. Her ink was in many ways traditional; a rose on her upper arm, a classic snake circling the blade of a knife, references hidden within elusive Roman numbers, an image of Death looming behind a scorpio on her bicep. Images strategically placed in obvious places, a courtesy call for all who came across her. And then there were the private ones, that only you had ever witnessed; that only you had trailed your finger upon, following the lines down her skin, making her shiver underneath your touch. The matching hearts stamped very low on her back, the quote of your favourite song etched on her skin. And right below her tummy, just underneath her underwear line, this was written:"Love is as strong as death, as deep as the grave." A secret romantic, she got that tattooed after you rubbed her lower tummy to relieve her painful period. You had been together for quite a while by that point, had already exchanged 'i love you's, had already explored each other's bodies to the core, and had been living together. She knew you loved her and you made a point of showing it every day. And yet, it still caught her by surprise sometimes, your tender touch caressing her when she wasn't expecting it; in the sparkles that came alive in your eyes when she walked into the room. But what moved her most of all was how you responded to her weakness. Not the same weakness that men look down on - the open displays of her love, the open hurt in one's eyes when their loved one said something that cut deep. No, what really mattered to her was the physical weakness, how you would respond when her strength failed her and she was bedridden. Valeria had the unpleasant habit of sleeping alone when on her period, saying that it was because she got angry easily and didn't want to bother you. But really, she didn't want you to hear her small whimpers, to see her body curl inwards as she sought relief from the pain. On one of those days, as she was napping in the spare bedroom, and just as she was winning her struggle with sleep and about to enter the land of dreams, the bed gave in to your weight as you crawled behind her and put your body against hers.

"Go away, mi amor. I'm not in the mood." She grumbled in response and tried moving away from your touch. Paying no mind to her protests, you kissed the top of her head as you slid behind her, placing your arm below her neck and bringing your bodies close. You left a trail of tiny kisses along her neck and your other hand roamed beneath her shirt, then moved lower, passing the elastic band of her underwear.

"I said go away, I can't do it today," she protested but stopped because instead of going lower, your hand simply just rested on that spot. You drew circles on her soft lower tummy with your thumb. As your hand warmed up her skin, it brought relief to her pain. "I'm your personal water bottle, baby," you cooed as you placed more small, chaste kisses on her skin. Valeria relaxed into your skin, basking in the warmth as she let out a relieved sigh. Valeria had always known she'd kill for you, but at that very moment, she vowed to die before she let anything harm you. She needed to mark her devoted love for you on her skin permanently, and so got that tattoo in the very spot that you massaged every month.

And now she stared at that tattoo as she buttoned her trousers and tightened her weapons belt, hiding it.

There was a stiffness within Valeria that made her hard to break, but that, nonetheless, would one day surely be broken. She feared that this day had now come. She always knew you'd be part of her undoing, but if that undoing was ever to happen, she anticipated it in the form of betrayal. There were certain wounds that your love would soothe, but not erase, and her fear of losing you was one of them. Although she knew there was always the risk of losing you in her operations - spouses were frequent targets of attack in her profession - she could never fathom that this would ever happen. And now that it finally did, her undoing felt imminent. But before she fell, she would undo the lives of every person involved in your abduction.

Valeria walked down the halls of her estate which was now busy as a bee's colony. Personnel ran up and down the halls, transferring arms and themselves to vehicles and aircraft, putting everyone down to the guard dogs into use. Everything was readied to perfection before they descended upon the headquarters of the Mexcian Army with blood and fire. This was unlike Sin Nombre's usual pattern of behaviour. El Sin Nombre worked in the shadows and did the most to prevent bloodshed. El Sin Nombre brushed shoulders with the Mexican Army frequently, but nonetheless maintained a respectful distance. They kept to their turf, and she kept to hers. She was the blade that shone in the shadows, an elusive blade that had to be looked for, but now she would carry her knife in the open. And she would burn the world to the ground, the whole lot of them be damned. Let it be known that Valeria Garza loves a woman to death. And she will ride the forces of death to the battlefield even if just to reunite with her love. She thought of you right now, kept somewhere cold and grimy, afraid and lost in the world of armies and men, in the world of violence and destruction. A world she tried hard to keep separate from your own.

And yet still, she did not regret ever bringing you to her life; not for a second. Binding your lives may have caused your ruin and hers, but she was still glad to have known happiness with you before the bitterness descended.

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"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?" Alejandro looked right into your eyes with his dark ones, and you just stared at him, shocked and embarrassed. Your anxiety turned into stone-cold fear. What kind of question was that? This was not where the conversation was going, nor did you ever expect to be asked this - especially by someone like him. You painfully craved Valeria's presence in that moment, so much that it hurt. Ever since she entered your life, no one dared to intimidate or harass you. She became your protector and your guardian. It had been years since you had to defend yourself, verbally or physically, and the realisation almost brought tears to your eyes. You became painfully aware of your predicament as the Colonel stared you down impatiently.

You willed yourself to say something, anything, but your words would not come out no matter how hard you tried. "I asked you a question," he said. "I don't know what to say," your voice trailed off to near silence by the end. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with your ring. "It's a yes or no answer," he said. "I don't want to talk anymore," you said, louder than you spoke before. "That's not how interrogations work. I ask, you answer." Alejandro stepped forward and leaned down to your level. "So answer the question - ahora." "¿Qué quieres de mí?" You asked. ("What do you want from me?")

He moved uncomfortably close and whispered: "I want her to suffer. I want her to know what betrayal feels like. Quiero arruinarte." ("I want to ruin you.") His eyes trailed below your tearful eyes and to your lips, then lower to your neck. His breath caught at the sight of bruises forming on your soft skin in the shape of his fingers. He wondered what the rest of you would like decorated like that, what it would feel like to grab all the soft parts of you and make them hurt. He gloated at the idea that Valeria would see you like that; destroyed and afraid, marked all over by him. For her to feel what it is like to have what she loves tattered into pieces. To feel the betrayal that he felt when she left him. He, the leader of Los Vaqueros, one of the most promising soldiers of his generation, abandoned for a random girl that nobody had even heard of; a nobody. A girl who did nothing more than help out in her Abuela's kitchen. As Alejandro's eyes leered across your body, he wondered what it was that attracted Valeria to you. Was it your pretty eyes? Large and round puppy eyes that he bet could beg so prettily. Was it your soft and glistening skin? Or was it your inoculated innocence? The innocence of someone who didn't know what it was like to kill, who had never taken a life. The innocence of someone who didn't make their living alongside Death. The innocence of someone you came home to after a long day, who nursed the wounds the world inflicted upon you and sent you out there stronger than before. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that parts of you filled out where his didn't. The parts of your body that were soft where his were hard, that you were delicate where he was strong, that your skin was smooth when his was scarred. That where he yielded, you broke. That you could crumble in love and he wouldn't. That he and Valeria belonged with the destroyers of the world, and you were of the destroyed. That there was an inevitable attraction between these opposites, and resistance when two of the same met, an instinctive aversion to that which was made of the same stuff as you.

"You as much as lay a hand on me, cabrón, and it'll be the last thing you ever fucking do," you spat your words at him, anger burning in your chest. Upon hearing this, a dark grin stretched across his face. He reached out with his gloved hand and grabbed a strand of your hair.

"You're so stupid, you don't even know it," he mused while rubbing his thumb against your hair. You jerked back to release him from you, but he only held on to your hair, preferring to see you rip it from your scalp than let go.

"You don't know what can happen to women in custody, do you?" He said. You stared back in defiance. "You're just trying to scare me. You wouldn't dare." "I guess Valeria never told you how we do things here." He said, looking down at you. "She told me how much she fucking hated it, and how small you all made her feel," you said, emboldened in your anger. "And whatever you do to me won't change the fact that she loved me and not you, and that she will always choose me." You said, staring up at him. His eyes darkened and he released your hair, only to raise his hand high above you, preparing to bring it down with a force that would knock you off your chair.

He was about to do so but was interrupted when the door opened.

An unknown man entered the room, dressed in the typical kit of the Mexican Army. "Colonel," he said and saluted. "You're wanted in the yard." Alejandro looked behind him lazily. "What's this about? Estoy ocupado." (I'm busy) The man blinked back at him. "El fantasmo, sir." Alejandro grunted and returned his hand to his side, not bothering to hide what he was about to do. He started walking towards the door. "You just think about what I just said," he uttered and shut the door behind him. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you took a moment to comprehend what just happened. His threat hung over you like a rope, tightly coiled like the lump in your throat. How long till he returned? You couldn't stand the idea of being left alone with him again. "Senora."

For a moment, you forgot the other man was still with you. You looked up at him, worry written all over your face, weary of his presence. He stepped closer to you and placed a hand in his pocket. To your surprise, he pulled out a strawberry-flavoured breakfast bar; one of your favourite snacks. "Don't you worry. La jefa viene en camino," he said as he passed it to you. ("The boss is on her way") Stunned, you held the bar in your hands and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Many thoughts rushed through your mind - she knew you were here! You thought of what Commander Graves had said about Valeria having friends with many places, and here was one operating right underneath their noses. You wanted to ask the man so many things, but could only speak one word: "When?" He looked at you with a soft, sympathetic smile on his lips. His fingers reached to the earpiece and he pressed it. "Now," he said and an alarm siren started started screaming.

The sound was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. The siren blared over the speakers of the Mexican Army's headquarters in one long, continuous yell. Immediately, you could hear the thundering footsteps of countless men running up and down the grounds, yells of surprise and panicked instructions that were incomprehensible to you from within the box. The man looked at you calmly. "Stay right here, senora. Don't come out for any reason." And with that, he ran out the door, sealing the door shut behind him. You could hear a chain rattling against the entrance as he locked you in. The breakfast bar sat on your lap and you began peeling the wrapping. You took a big bite out of it, tasting the sweetness of the sugar and the sourness of the strawberry pieces. You swallowed your snack as the first bullet was fired.

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Alejandro was annoyed at the interruption and hurried to the yard where Ghost was expecting him. He wondered what the urgency was. Perhaps Valeria sent a message. That was what he wanted, but he hoped it would take a bit longer. There was a surprising amount of fun to be had with you. Even if he didn't lay a hand on you, his words alone were enough to terrify you, and he loved every second of it. Your eyes widening in fear when you understood what he meant, your embarrassment at what was implied; it excited him more than he wanted to admit. Had that been Valeria on that chair, he would've been chewed out in a second, if not worse. It was uncommon to come across someone so timid as you in his line of work, someone so easy to pick on. And yet, you showed some spite, too. There were many layers to be uncovered here, and he wanted to take his time unravelling all that you had to offer.

He arrived at the yard. The place was littered with army vehicles transporting cargo and people to and from the facility, and further out, the aircraft was in the process of being retired for the day. To his annoyance, Ghost was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found Rudolpho helping out with the transport of arms.

"Have you seen Ghost, Rudy?" Alejandro asked. Rudolpho paused and turned to his superior, and longtime friend. "Ghost and Soap are in a meeting with General Sherperd, the Captain, and Graves, sir. I'm not sure when they'll be done." Alejandro raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A meeting with Graves? And why weren't we invited?" Rudolpho shook his head, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know." He partly turned around to continue with his task, but then faced Alejandro again. "Colonel," he said and moved closer to Alejandro so that others couldn't hear. "I'm not doubting your judgement here. But will this help catch El Sin Nombre? We've not heard anything of Valeria since that night." He said.

Alejandro stared back in response. "Of course this will help catch her. I told you this is a necessary evil to weed her out. I know how she works, trust me." He affirmed.

Rudolpho seemed unsure. "I knew her too, Alejandro. And I don't think this was the right move, at all. And I think Commander Graves is having his doubts too." He didn't need to spell it out for Alejandro, he knew the implication behind this. That Graves was doubting Alejandro's judgment. That this meeting they were having could very well be about this operation, calling it a failure. Wanting to change the strategy. Rudy pressed on. "And I really don't think she ought to be left alone in that container. She should be transported to jail, sir."

Alejandro turned to him and spoke slowly, realization hitting him like a wave. "But she's not alone." The alarm in Alejandro's eyes spread to Rudolpho and they both turned to face the building that hosted the container when the emergency alarm was triggered.

Promised tags: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl (thank you for all the support!) @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

¡Hello! Could you request the Cullen family and adopted male reader? where the reader was sweet and outgoing before, but when he reached adolescence he became rebellious and rude (something like in the movie Thirtheen).

PS: I'm sorry if you don't understand me much, English is not my main language.

Fractured Reflections

Pairing : The Cullen Family x Adopted reader Tags: Platonic, Teenage rebellion, Family feelings Word count : 860 Y/n: Your name  L/n: your last name

The sound of exuberant laughter echoed through the halls of the Cullen house, a distant memory of what once was. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the exquisite décor and the faces of the family: Edward, Esme, Carlisle , Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie. They were gathered in the living room, exchanging looks of concern.

“He used to be so bright,” Alice sighed, her usually bubbly personality dimmed with worry.

“He’s lost his way,” Esme added softly, her heart heavy with the struggles of their adopted son , Y/N. Once known for his wide smile and infectious laughter, Y/N had transformed into a shadow of his  former self; rebellious, rude, and hiding secrets behind a mask of indifference.

“Maybe we should talk to him,” Edward suggested, his brow furrowed. As the mind reader of the family, he had witnessed the turmoil swirling in Y/N’s head, a storm of anger and confusion battling with their love. But confronting him had proven difficult. He had built walls around his emotions, rebuffing their attempts to reach him.

Just then, the front door slammed shut, and the atmosphere thickened with dread. Y/N stood in the doorway, breathless with adrenaline, his face flushed from the adrenaline rush of whatever teenage escapade He’d plunged into this time. Dressed in black ripped jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket, He looked every inch the embodiment of rebellion.

“I’m home,” He muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice. There was no warmth, no acknowledgment of his family standing in the room.

“Y/N,” Alice began, her voice filled with genuine concern. “We were just talking about—”

“Talking about what? How I should dress differently, or how I should be more like a perfect, little Cullen?” He shot back, eyes cold. “I’m not going to fit into your perfect little family mould, Alice. Got it?”

The words stung more than anyone could have imagined. His family had always provided him with endless love and acceptance, and yet, He stood, wielding that love like a weapon.

“Y/N, please,”Carlisle  interjected gently, his calm demeanour attempting to soothe the storm brewing in her heart. “We care about you. We’re just worried.”

“All you guys do is worry,” He snapped, turning away from them. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

With a heavy sigh, Edward took a step forward. “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice firm but layered with tenderness. “You used to share everything with us. What happened?”

Y/N hesitated, the walls He had been building starting to crack. He wanted to scream, to shout that He felt lost, that the world felt too big and constraining at the same time. Instead, He simply shrugged. “I grew up, okay?”

“Is that what you think this is?” Emmett’s booming voice broke into the tension. “Being a kid isn’t about fitting into some image. It’s about figuring out who you are. But you’re making choices that can hurt you. We just want to help.”

Y/N spun to face him, anger sparking in his eyes. “Help? By being judgmental? By sticking your noses where they don’t belong? You don’t understand what it’s like to feel trapped, to feel like everyone expects you to be something you’re not!”

“Then let us in,” Esme urged, stepping forward. “Talk to us, Y/N. We’re your family. We love you no matter what.”

The words hung in the air, and Y/N felt something shift within him. The anger He had clung to so tightly felt flimsy in the presence of their unwavering love. He looked at each of their faces, and for the first time in a long while, He felt a flicker of vulnerability.

“Everyone at school… they change so fast,” He began, his voice wavering. “I thought I had to change too. I thought it would help me fit in. But all it’s done is push me away from you guys. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not losing us,” Edward reassured him, stepping closer until they were face-to-face. “We’ll always be here, no matter what.”

Tears began to pool in Y/N’s eyes, the façade cracking as the emotions poured forth. He hated feeling so weak, but the warmth of familial love was too overwhelming to resist.

“I just… I feel so lost sometimes,” He confessed, his voice shaking. “And I don’t know how to find my way back.”

Emmett stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Finding yourself doesn’t mean losing who you’ve been. You’re still Y/N. You’re still our brother, and we want to help you navigate this.”

Alice rushed to his side, enveloping Y/N in a warm embrace, followed by Esme and the rest of the family. They formed a circle of support, a reaffirmation of love in the midst of confusion.

“You’re allowed to be a work in progress,” Rosalie said softly, a rare tenderness shining through. “We all are.”

And for the first time, He felt the flicker of his old self—a self that never truly disappeared, just buried beneath layers of rebellion.

[pucksandpower]

Your Boss Will Do | Toto Wolff

Summary: your (ex) boyfriend screws you over so you end up screwing his boss and find love in the most unlikely of places

Warnings: infidelity (not between the main pairing), attempted violence, and vague mentions of spice

As you stepped out of the taxi, the heat of the sun embraced your skin and welcomed you to the bustling principality where the Monaco Grand Prix was about to take place. This was supposed to be an exciting weekend with a chance to visit your boyfriend, Lucas, who worked as a mechanic for Mercedes. Little did you know that your world was about to be turned upside down.

You had been together with Lucas for two years, and although there were some ups and downs in your relationship, you believed your love was strong. But as you made your way to the hotel, your heart started to feel a strange unease as if something was amiss. Brushing off the thoughts, you told yourself it was just lingering stress from the long journey.

Finally, you arrived at the luxurious hotel which was already buzzing with team personnel and fans there for the upcoming race. The lobby was a sea of energy and excitement but you just could not shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Still, determined to see Lucas, you tried to ignore the pit in your stomach and made your way up to his room.

As you approached the door, you heard muffled moans and whimpers coming from inside. Confusion and curiosity gripped you. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to knock or just barge in, but ultimately you chose the latter, wanting to surprise him with your early arrival.

What you saw upon entering shattered your heart into a thousand tiny pieces. There, tangled among the bedsheets, were Lucas and a flushed woman you had never seen before. The shock paralyzed you as you took in the scene before you — their disheveled clothes, the guilty expressions on their faces, and the unmistakable sense of betrayal that hung heavy in the air.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stumbled backward. Lucas and the woman quickly separated, faces pale as they realized they had been caught in the act. You turned on your heels, running out of the room, heart pounding in your chest as a tidal wave of more emotions than you could pinpoint flooded your entire being.

With nowhere to go, you found yourself seated at the hotel bar, seeking solace in a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled as you nursed your broken heart, thoughts consumed by the image of Lucas and that woman now imprinted in your brain.

Lost in your despair, you failed to notice the man who had quietly taken a seat next to you. His presence disrupted your thoughts, and you turned to face the tall, distinguished gentleman in a white button down with serious brown eyes and a calm yet intense demeanor. You immediately recognized him from the Formula 1 broadcast on your television screen.

“Seems like you could use a friend,” Toto said, his voice smooth and comforting. “Mind if I join you?”

You nodded, appreciating the unexpected company. Toto ordered a drink and leaned back, his eyes studying you curiously. “I couldn't help but notice the sadness in your eyes. Care to share?”

As the tears threatened to spill over, you found yourself pouring your heart out to someone who was a stranger in all but name. You told him about Lucas, the love you had shared, and the devastating betrayal you had just witnessed. The longer you spoke, the more your voice trembled with pain.

Toto listened attentively, his gaze never leaving your face. When you finished, he reached out and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped your eye. “I'm truly sorry for what you are going through. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

With a heavy sigh, you confessed, “I don't even have a place to stay now. I was supposed to stay with Lucas but I can't bear to be near him.”

Toto's eyes softened with empathy. “You can stay with me. My villa is not too far from here. It's the least I can do to offer you some comfort.”

Surprised by his generous offer, you hesitated. “I don't want to impose.”

“You are not imposing at all,” Toto assured. “Please, let me take care of you.”

A mix of trepidation and desire coiled within you, weaving a web of temptation. In that moment of vulnerability, you made a choice to embrace the unknown and surrender to the passion that beckoned. Nodding in silent agreement, you allowed Toto to guide you away from the bar, leaving behind the splintered shards of your past.

In Toto’s private sanctuary, a world of decadence and desire unfolded before you. The opulent villa, with its dimly lit rooms and plush furnishings, became a playground for stolen moments and hidden pleasures. Each touch, each kiss, ignited a fire that consumed you both — a flame that burned away the remnants of heartbreak, leaving only an insatiable hunger for each other.

Amidst tousled Egyptian cotton sheets and whispered promises, you discovered the intoxicating power of surrender in a dance of passion and vulnerability that left you breathless. Toto explored the contours of your body with reverence, awakening desires you had long forgotten. In his arms, you found redemption, his touch mending the broken fragments of your soul, as overwhelming pleasure mingled with bittersweet memories of the past.

Days turned into nights and nights into a blur of fervid moments and languid mornings. Toto spoiled you with adoration, showering you with gestures that whispered of his devotion. He painted your world with colors that had only existed in dreams before him — the symphony of his kisses, the tender caress of his fingertips, and the way his voice melted into yours during whispered confessions of early love.

Race weekends came and went and your connection with Toto grew stronger with each passing moment. He showed you a different world filled with respect, kindness, and unconditional love. His home became yours as well — a sanctuary where you could heal and rediscover yourself.

Toto’s touch was gentle yet electric, sending shivers down your spine whenever his fingers brushed against your skin. His lips were soft and warm, his kisses both tender and passionate. With each intimate encounter, the tension between you heightened, adding an exhilarating edge to your blossoming relationship.

You were swept up in a whirlwind of romance. Between heated embraces and whispered pleas, Toto convinced you to join along for his travels and soon you were exploring countless cities together, walking hand in hand through the vibrant streets, indulging in exquisite cuisine, and immersing yourselves in the local culture. Toto was a fascinating companion, his stories painting vivid pictures in your mind and his presence making you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before.

As neither you nor Toto had any desire to keep your relationship hidden, Lucas was in for a rude awakening. Consumed by anger and jealousy, he confronted you one afternoon outside the Mercedes garage, spit flying with his bitter words. “So this is what you've been doing while I was working, huh? Sleeping with my boss? I hope you're happy. Keep opening your legs to anyone with some money in the bank!”

His words stung but you refused to let his cruelty break you. Standing tall, you looked him in the eye, your voice steady. “I may have ended up in Toto's arms but I was driven there because you broke my heart into a million pieces. I deserve better than the lies and betrayal you offered me. But in the end I should thank you, because you ultimately led me to the best thing that has even been mine.”

Lucas’ face twisted with rage but before he could respond, Toto emerged from the garage, his presence as commanding and solid as always. “I suggest you leave, Lucas. Your behavior is unacceptable and I will not tolerate it in my team or in my personal life.”

Lucas’ mouth opened and closed but no words came out. His anger turned to defeat as he stormed off, leaving you standing there with Toto by your side. The relief of having Toto’s support washed over you and you clung to him as your knees threatened to buckle, knowing that you had made the right choice in leaving Lucas behind.

From that day forward, Toto spoiled you with love and affection even more than before. He showed you what a true partnership based on trust, respect, and shared dreams should be. He supported your aspirations and encouraged you to pursue your own passions, all while cherishing every moment you spent together.

You stood by Toto’s side, attending races and witnessing the triumphs and challenges that came with the sport firsthand. The fiery passion between you never waned but it was no longer the sole foundation of your relationship. It had evolved into a deep emotional connection — a bond that transcended just physical desire.

You found yourself becoming a familiar face in the paddock and the lively Mercedes garage. The once-foreign territory transformed into a second home filled with friendly smiles and warm greetings from the team. Toto took pride in having you next to him and he delighted in showing you off to everyone watching.

With each race, you became more absorbed into the world of Formula 1. The team welcomed you with open arms, eager to share their knowledge and stories. You listened attentively, absorbing the intricacies of the sport and the dedication that fueled each member. Similarly, they admired your resilience and how you had overcome heartache to find love and happiness again.

The paddock buzzed with whispers and speculation as news of your relationship with Toto spread like wildfire. Some saw it as a scandalous affair while others admired the power couple that had emerged from the ashes of betrayal.

Lucas was unable to escape the reality of your newfound connection. The sight of you and Toto, locked in an embrace or sharing hungry glances gnawed at him like a festering wound. The anger within him grew, fueled by jealousy and entitlement. He resented the fact that you had moved on and found happiness in the arms of his boss.

One fateful day as the sun beamed down on the paddock, Lucas approached you, his face contorted in anger. “So this is what it’s come to,” he sneered, words dripping with venom. “You've officially traded me in for a richer model.”

You remained tall, refusing to cower as he wrongfully projected the blame onto you. “It was never about power or wealth. Toto has shown me what true love and respect look like. He cherishes me in a way you never did and never could.”

Lucas’ rage flared and he lunged forward with misguided fury. “I won't let him have you! You're mine. I won't stand by while he takes you away.”

But before he could reach you, Toto wedged himself between you and Lucas, a protective pillar of strength. “You will not touch her,” Toto pushed your ex-boyfriend back. “Your possessiveness and anger have no place here. Y/N does not belong to you or anyone for that matter. She is free to choose who to love and she has chosen me. If you cannot respect our relationship, I will have no choice but to take further action.”

The ugly expression never left Lucas’ face but he must have recognized the futility of his actions. Toto was nearly a head taller than him and at the top of both the Mercedes and Formula 1 food chain. With one final glare, he turned and disappeared into the crowd of people as his bravado crumbled.

Toto drew you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from the remnants of your past. His touch, once filled with merely desire, now possessed a deep set tenderness — a promise that he would always defend and cherish you.

As the season continued, Toto’s devotion to you only deepened. He spoiled you with grand gestures and intimate moments — helicopter rides over breathtaking landscapes, candlelit dinners under the stars, and stolen kisses in the hustle of the garages. He reveled in pampering you, eager to show you what a true partnership built on mutual respect and trust should be like.

It was in the moments away from the track, in the refuge of your private lives, that your relationship truly flourished. Toto was your confidant, your champion, and your partner. His love letters adorned your nightstand, his whispers of adoration reverberated through your dreams, and his touch ignited a passion that transcended feasible thought. In his arms, you discovered the depth of intimacy and connection, where pleasure melded with profound emotion and left you breathless and yearning for more. In the midst of the chaos and adrenaline, Toto became your anchor, grounding you in a love that surpassed all expectations. You navigated the twists and turns of the sport and of life together and faced the triumphs and setbacks hand in hand. The love you shared with Toto was a force that defied all doubts and insecurities, reminding you that you were worthy of happiness and bliss.

While celebrating a victorious race, you relished in the second family that had adopted you. Laughter filled the air as the team exchanged stories and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging.

As the conversation shifted to humorous anecdotes, Toto leaned in and whispered in your ear, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Remember the first time we met at the hotel bar? I never would have imagined that sitting next to a beautiful woman nursing her whiskey would lead to all of this.”

You chuckled and playfully nudged him. “Well I suppose we have Lucas to thank for introducing us in his own twisted way.”

Toto raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yes, he was quite the unusual matchmaker. I doubt he expected me to take such an interest in his ex-girlfriend.”

A burst of laughter escaped your lips and you shook your head. “I'm sure he regrets it now.”

Just then, Lewis joined the conversation. He flashed a grin at both of you. "So is it true that Toto stole your heart faster than our car can drive a lap?"

You exchanged a playful glance with Toto before replying. “Let's just say Toto knows how to handle more than just the team.”

Toto shrugged teasingly. “What can I say? I have a magic touch both on and off the track.”

The group erupted into hoots and hollers and, reveling in the well-meaning cheers, you realized that despite the initial heartbreak and turmoil, life had brought you to a place where love and joy prospered. You couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turns that had led you to where you were meant to be.

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ mine ❞ - ,, yang jungwon

pairing bf!jungwon x gn!reader ୨୧ genre secret relationship, idol au ୨୧ wc 733 ୨୧ warnings pushy heeseung, jealous and sfw!possessive jungwon req; hii can you write possesive bf jungwon?

. . . . . -ˋˏ ✎ author's note! more jealous than possesive, sorry !!

you entered the restaurant with niki, his shoulder brushing against yours as you walked beside him. they had all invited you to celebrate their latest music show win with a new song over dinner. seeing them triumph made you especially happy, given the nonstop work you had witnessed them put in over the past weeks.

niki gave your back a pat as you split to take your seats at the table. you both were slightly tardy due to traffic, and since niki was your closest friend among them, he had promised to pick you up.

your bond with the group had grown mainly because niki was like a brother to you, and vice versa. you both had met during training days, and unable to resist niki's lost eyes, you took care of him, creating a sibling-like bond. after the boys got into i-land, you decided to give up on being an idol and decided to focus on producing music. 

seated at the table, heeseung was on your right, sunoo on your left, jay in front of you, and jungwon right next to him, offering you a soft smile when your eyes met.

you were about to initiate a conversation with jungwon when heeseung spoke up.

“did you see our performance?” he asked, looking directly at you. you nodded, your mind filled with images of jungwon looking angelic on stage. wanting to clear your mind, you planned on complimenting jungwon later, as you grabbed the menu, your focus shifting to the dishes.

heeseung continued to ask you questions, and although you had nothing against him, he sometimes pushed your limits, especially today.

as the food arrived, you dove in immediately, realizing it was your first meal of the day. it had been a busy day in the studio, and you had forgotten to eat, engrossed in your work.

while some of them took pictures of the food, chatted, or simply enjoyed the meal, heeseung seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

"so, anything changed, y/n? finally found someone?" he asked, once again, earning him an annoyed look from you. heeseung had always been interested in your love life, sometimes dropping hints that he was clearly interested in you.

your relationship with jungwon had to be kept as a secret, simply because it was easier for both of you. being friendly in public was safer, enhypen was getting more popular, obsessed fans or media almost always following them. you didn’t want to start rumors. 

"if you didn't know, i'm here—" heeseung began.

"you're not my type," you cut him off, prompting laughter from the rest of the group. as they teased heeseung, you looked towards jungwon.

a shiver travelled down your spine, jungwon looked scary. a slight furrow between his brows, his eyes piercing through heeseung and mouth slightly open, as if he was in disbelief. 

“c’mon, y/n. stop joking around, you’re just too shy to admit that you have a crush on me,” heeseung bounced back, but not really saving himself from the embarrassment caused by your words and (almost) everyone laughing.

jungwon shifted his gaze to you, waiting for your response. panicking, you'd seen him annoyed with other members before, and being the leader, he had an intimidating presence. but he had never looked at you like that. frozen, chopsticks in hand, holding a piece of meat in the air, you waited for magic to happen to get you out of this situation.

“heeseung, switch your seat with me.” 

jungwon's rough voice made everyone look at him as he stood up. heeseung obeyed, still confused, as it was evident on his face. your boyfriend finally sat next to you, and you felt slightly relieved.

"is our leader jealous?" jake spoke, quickly silenced by jungwon's gaze.

your boyfriend almost forcibly took your hand, interlocking your fingers and resting his elbow on the table for everyone to see. you gasped quietly, looking at jungwon, who didn't spare you a glance, his eyes focused on heeseung.

"we're dating," he declared loudly and firmly. "don't ask them such questions. i don't want to hear that. if you ever make them uncomfortable again, i'll make sure you never see them again."

heeseung nodded, and for a couple of minutes, it was very quiet. everyone focused on their food, the atmosphere heavy and awkward. jungwon placed your interlocked hands on his thigh, holding you tightly for the rest of the evening.

niki broke the silence, asking how you and jungwon started dating, and from there, everyone went back to normal—making jokes, having regular conversations, but mostly poking fun at heeseung and his big ego.

requests: open © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Singlemom!OC

Theme: Fluff, a little bit of angst.

N/A: To my dear Pedri's Girls who voted, it's finally here. I'm sorry for not posting it yesterday, but I ended up getting very tired and with some doubts. First about being a "reader" or OC, and I ended up choosing OC because I couldn't write without visualizing someone, and because while I was writing, the image of Hande Erçel came to my mind. Anyway, this is just an introduction, there will be three chapters and a bonus. I hope you like it, and that you fall in love with them as I did.

"I can't believe it, Fer. I can't believe it happened again. When I think everything is going to be fine, something like this happens," Pedri lamented. His brother was already upset with the situation.

"I know, brother, we will get through this, as we always do." Pedri ran his hands over his face. "I need to call mom, she's is worried." Pedri just agreed while his brother walked outside the box. At the same time he left, a little boy entered the private space. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed Pedri.

"You are crying?" The boy cautiously approached Pedri and then kneeled on the floor beside the player, his elbows resting on the sofa where Pedri was sitting. "My father says that men shouldn't cry, but my mother says that only real men cry."

Pedri laughs.

"Your mother is right. Are you alone here?" Pedri looked around looking for any adults, but it was just them. The little boy just nodded and then started looking for something in the pocket of the jacket he was wearing, and soon he was taking off his coat. Pedri noticed the name and number on it. "I liked the choice of shirt." The little boy looked at him, embarrassed.

"here" he finally takes out a handful of M&Ms from his pocket. "Mom and I always eat them when we are sad, and now that you are sad, you will feel better after eating them."

Pedri smiled at how adorable the little boy was and readily accepted the candy; he was too sad to think about his diet.

"Bye I have to go." He watched the little boy put on his jacket again, ready to leave.

"Hey, don't you want me to sign your shirt?"

The little boy looked at him cautiously and uncertainly, and Pedri could see that he was in an internal battle.

"My mother says I shouldn't bother the players"

"It's not a bother; you shared your sweets with me; we're friends now. The little boy's eyes opened so wide that Pedri was afraid they would jump out.

"Serious?" he asked uncertainly. Pedri just nodded and saw the boy's face light up.

"PEDRIIIIIII!!!" He gave an excited scream and ran to the player, hugging him. He was definitely controlling himself before, Pedro thought.

**********************************************

"Hey, do you plan on going to that nightclub again?" Pedri asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible while continuing to do the exercise that the physical trainer gave him.

"What? Are you asking this? I thought these things weren't for you. Ferran mocked.

"It's because he's trying to find the woman he spent the night with," Gavi says, receiving a deadly look from Pedri.

"What, am I lying? You looked at every photo that marked the club's location on social media."

"Seriously Gavira, if you don't shut up..."

Pedri threatens, making the others laugh.

"It seems that only you were affected by the night since you woke up alone in the hotel room" said Ter Stegen, the goalkeeper who had been listening to the entire conversation in silence until now. Pedri looked directly at Gavi, knowing he was responsible for telling the details.

"Seriously, man, I'll never tell you anything again."

"What? I was just trying to help. Knowing if one of them saw the woman you were with that night. If I hadn't seen her, I would have thought it was a hallucination in your head."

Pedri rolled his eyes at the younger man's mockery.

"I know you were upset that you woke up there alone. 

"I wasn't," Pedri said defensively. "It was not a big deal." He said with a shrug, preferring to remain silent while focusing on the strengthening exercises, that it was better to forget the subject, either because Gavi was irritating him or because he had a grain of truth.

Nightclubs were not a place he normally frequented; he always preferred to stay at home watching a series or movie, but he had made an exception that night as he was upset because of the injury and the nasty comments he received, like it was his fault. It ended up that he didn't regret going at all; after all, it led to the best night of his life with the woman he would meet at the bar, and thanks to not consuming alcohol, he had recorded in his mind every detail of that night and the woman.

He remembered the exact moment she entered the place; his eyes immediately stayed on her; her presence attracted him like a magnet; and her long hair fell all over her back and down to her waist. The red lipstick and the huge, sweet smile she had. He remembered her scent and the woman's sharp tongue as he approached, not giving a damn about who he was. He had etched the dimple in her cheek every time she laughed at something he said, and God, her laughter was like music to his ears. He remembered how she pressed her body against his while they were on the dance floor and how all that tension took them both to a hotel room that night. What a night!

"Dude, stop thinking about her while you are with us." Ferran's voice takes Pedri out of his thoughts. Pedri looked at him confused.

"Your cheeks give you away, man," said Gavi, who had a small smile on the corner of his face. Pedri turned to the mirror, noticing the color that appeared on his face.

"Shit", he mumbled, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

"Although you met her in a nightclub, maybe you should look in other places, like churches or registry offices." He looked even more confused at Ferran, who had an ironic smile on his face. "You know, considering your history with women who end up being married and everything."

"Seriously, I'm done with you guys." Pedri stood up, moving away from his companions, who were laughing at the situation.

**********************************************"" Fans like to feel close to players, so we can continue investing in content with them in pairs or in groups. We can record some kind of challenge with the boys who have the most friendships about how much they know each other. Fans love knowing these details." The woman said to the social media girl as they walked down the corridor to the meeting room, where the rest of the communication team would be.

"Mom, mom, mom!" She turned, looking at the little boy who was running towards her.

"Hey, honey, what's wrong? Everything is fine?" She bent down to the child's height, who seemed to be in a hurry to be somewhere. "I'll be at the gym with my friend," he said impatiently, about to run again.

"What a friend? There is no place for children there" she said worriedly, placing her hand on her son's head.

"Mom, pleeeaaaase," he said while pulling the woman's bag, looking for something.

"Axel, breathe. What are you looking for?" She asked when her child threw all the things inside her bag on the floor.

"The cards that Grandpa gave me to show my friend, I FOUND." he said excitedly, shaking the cards in his hand.

"Bye mom, I love you." She watched as the boy disappeared down the corridor without even looking back, which made her curious to know who this friend was, and she made a mental checklist to ask when they were leaving. She also added to talking with her son about running around Ciutat Esportiva, she had the opportunity to bring him to work, but she knew it was best not to abuse the luck, even though he was normally a quiet child, these days, he always had to be somewhere.

**********************************************

The sound of Xavi's whistle signaled the end of training. He thanked all of the players, greeting each as they dispersed across the field. Some were already returning to the dressing room, and I remained there along with a few other guys.

"3, 2, 1...." Gavi says. Pedri raise his eyebrows in confusion, looking at him.

"PEDRIIIIIIIIIIII" Rafinha and Ferran say in a thin voice, clearly imitating the little boy who ran onto the field in our direction.

"He took so long to come this time," Gavi says, laughing at the scene. The little boy opens his arms and throws himself at Pedri, who holds him carefully.

"Hey little guy." He put him on the floor, and held out his hand for him to hit.

"Are you ready to play yet?" he asks, raising his eyebrows hopefully and looking the player up and down. It was the question he asked every day since he started showing up at the end of training to visit him, showing all his anxiety about seeing his favorite player return to the field.

"I'm almost there; I'm back to training now, but I'll be ready soon." The child makes a pout.

"My God, he have the same habit of arching the eyebrows and the things you do with your lips. It's too much Pedri for me." Rafinha says, laughing as he walks away. He ruffles the child's hair, and only then does the little one seem to realize the presence of the others. And his cheeks turn red, and then he hides behind Pedri's leg, who bends down and hugs him.

"the red cheeks and all." Are you sure you haven't been messing around?" Gavi continues. Pedri rolls his eyes at his friend, throwing the bottle he was holding at the youngest.

"Hey little guy, there's no need to be ashamed of us; we're cooler than him." Ferran says as he is trying to get the child's attention, making him hides his face in Pedri neck. The number eight smiles mockingly at Ferran, proud of the child's far-from-discreet preference.

"Don't flatter yourself; you didn't see the number he's wearing." Fermin scoffs.

"It's very good taste," Gavi says. Pedri turns the little boy in front of him.

" Axel!!! This is treason," Pedri says indignantly, as he sees the little boy wearing Gavi's number.

"My grandfather chose today. Gavi it's his favorite" he says with a shrug.

" But I like him a lot too." Gavi smiles, convinced, at his friend.

"Of course you like; you're the same size, of course you'll feel affinity." Gavi's smile dies immediately, and he raises the middle finger to Pedri.

"haha, Look who's talking, Pedri."

"Don't you think it's strange that he's here every day? " Pedri asks curiously.

"He must be some employee kid," Fermin concludes. "At most, the brother of one of the teenagers who are outside waiting for photos, he is small, manages to pass the security guards with no problem" They laughed again.

The little boy moves away from the player and looks for something in his pocket, and Pedri already knew what it was; after all, that had become their routine since they started meeting more often, whether in the CE or in the boxes on match days. Axel takes a handful of M&Ms from his pocket to share with the player.

"Just a little this time. My mother is suspicious." His eyes widen at the boy.

"You said your mother gave it to you, Axel," Pedri asks worriedly.

"Well, sometimes she gives it to me. But she says I can't eat all the time."

The boys were trying not to laugh, especially now that the boy was more welcome with them, casually kicking the ball for them.

"Great example, Pedriiiiiii." Ferran scoffs; Pedri rolls his eyes; it wasn't his fault; well, in part yes, it was him who said to the child, "Your mother won't mind if it's just a little."

**********************************************Pedri was sitting with the other players in the press room of the arena where the Barcelona basketball team was playing. They were waiting for the club president to take a photo; after all, it was important for them to see the first-team players supporting the others. While he waited, Pedri looked at the candy store's website on his cell phone, looking for what Axel had told him so much about during the week, about a new type of M&Ms with different flavors that he was dying to try, but it was still out of stock. Occasionally he would look up from his cell phone to respond to something the other players were saying. Gavi was by his side, chatting about something that Pedri could no longer follow due to the rapid changes in subject that the youngest started.

"Hey, guys," Laporta says, entering the conference room. He greeted each of the players who were there, and the staff organized them for the photo. As always, the president would hold the ball, and everyone would be on hand to touch it, in the form of support. After the photo, they start a conversation with the president until the door is opened wide.

"Oh, sorry." I thought they were already finished. Pedri, who had his back to the door in a conversation with Araujo and João Félix, freezes; he would recognize that voice anywhere, and above all, he would recognize the perfume, which hits him like a punch in the stomach. He immediately caught Gavi's eyes, who seemed as surprised as he was.

" The game is about to start, and we need to take some photos of the boys for promotion."

"Of course, we're done here" the president says, laughing. Apart from Gavi, the other boys didn't seem to notice Pedri's reaction, as he finally found the courage to turn around to look at the woman, and God, he felt his breath catch in his lungs.

"Oh, do you already know the boys personally?" Laporta asked the woman who looked up from her cell phone, looking at the other people in the room, and as soon as her eyes fell on him, they tripled in size, but she was quick to hide her surprise.

"No, not yet" she said simply.

"Boys, this is Isa Harver; she is the club's new communications assistant." Laporta introduced them, and she extended her hand to greet each of them. When her hand stopped in front of Pedri, he immediately noticed the ring on the girl's finger.

"Fuck" He heard Gavi saying behind him with a certain humor in his voice. Pedri simply couldn't believe his luck.

******************************************

N/A: SOOOO, I hope you guys enjoyed it!! I revised this chapter a million times, but English is not my first language, so something must have slipped through. Let me know what you think. And for my Gavi's girls, I'm also preparing something for you."

[minniebbang]

Smile | K.Seungmin (collection of drabble)

Pairing: bf!Seungmin x fem!reader summary: His smile is everything in your life. warning: none just fluff :3 word counts: 0.5k words a/n: wrote this when I came across a reel talking about Seungmin's smile. His smile is so precious I swear T-T. Also, the word smile is used often in this story, I'm sorry

Resting on the bench, the evening breeze caressed your face and Seungmin's. He had wandered off to the large tree across from you, his smile bright enough to rival the morning sun, and perhaps even the golden hues that were beginning to paint the blue sky. He left his camera by your side.

You watched as he spun among the fallen autumn leaves. His smile widened, casting a spell that drew your gaze to him. The slightly damp grass clung to his white Converse, but he didn't seem to mind, too immersed in the tranquillity of the moment and the scent of the morning rain.

An adoring smile tugged at your lips as you carefully picked up the camera, well aware of how cautious Seungmin was with his beloved equipment. You brought it to your eyes, adjusting the frame to fit his silhouette perfectly. As you pressed the button, the camera let out a subtle click, unexpectedly interrupting his playful spinning. You gasped, feeling a rush of warmth colour your cheeks as you fumbled with the camera, trying to return it to its original position. That was embarrassing. He shouldn't have noticed your attempt to capture his smile in the gallery, although it wasn't enough. Keeping his smile inside a gallery would never be sufficient since pictures didn't hold the warmth his smile brought along.

He walked toward you, a curious tilt to his head.

“What were you doing earlier?” he asked.

“Mhm? Nothing! I accidentally pressed the button!” you replied, your words tumbling over each other in a rush, eliciting a chuckle from him. His heart swelled with fondness as he observed your reddened cheeks and fidgeting hands. Truthfully, you didn’t need to explain; he always allowed you to use his belongings, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Reaching out, he gently cupped your cheeks with his hand before leaning in to plant a lingering kiss on your forehead, catching you off guard and causing you to seal your lips shut.

"It's just a question, baby. I’m not going to punish you or anything,” he uttered fondly with a smile after pulling away. He took the camera from you and settled beside you to look at the pictures. Resting his head on your shoulder, he giggled as he browsed through the images—an album full of him smiling. The rays of the late evening sun filtering through the tree canopy accentuated his features in the photos.

As you stared at the pictures, you remembered why you had fallen for him in the first place. His smile was magnetic, a charm that pulled you in and wouldn’t let you go. The first time you were together, he would cover his lips with his hand whenever his lips formed a smile. It irritated you that he constantly found a way to deny your compliment.

“Don’t cover your smile, Seungmin. It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

“Aren't you tired?”

“Of what?”

“Tired of complimenting my smile?”

“No! Why would I? I can spend my entire life talking about how pretty your smile is since you always deny it!”

He hummed in response.

“Thank you, baby”

His gaze found yours as his smile lit up his face for anyone to see. Let it be, you thought; let everyone witness his endearing smile.

Let his smile be etched in everyone’s hearts, just like how it was etched in yours.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Final Part

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: I'm sorry this took me a little while guys. I'm currently a sick college student without the funds for Dayquil so we've been struggling. I hope you all like this <3

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): mentions of physical abuse, mentions of SA, major sexisim, SMUT, dirty talk, Oral (male and female receiving), Slight breeding kink?, angst,

Word count: 5475

(all photos are from pinterest)

I glanced through the crevice in the oak doors and beheld the most serene image I have ever witnessed, perhaps ever will witness. Candles lighted the room giving it a warm, faint, glow. The smell of night blooming jasmine filled the air and not a sound could be heard from the small chapel. Rhys stood tall and proud, a crown atop his beautiful head. All members of the inner circle stood around, getting ready to bear witness to the ceremony about to take place. 

I smoothed my hands over my wedding dress once more. I had frantically gone shopping with Mor the day after Rhysand asked me to be his High Lady. With the council meeting to discuss my fate coming so soon we had no time for a grand ceremony, but I couldn’t have been happier with the way things had turned out. Even though the dress was last minute it was perfect, and I couldn’t have pictured anything else I would’ve married Rhys in. 

If you’re having second thoughts mate we can always postpone, Rhysand’s voice crooned into my mind. I looked through the crack in the door to find a somewhat worried expression on his face. 

“Far from it my love, I was just making sure I look perfect.” I giggle down the bond. 

I’m dying to see you in a wedding dress.

I smile and decide not to wait any longer to fulfill his desires. I leave a light knock on the double doors signaling for the men on the other sides to open them up. Immediately all eyes are on me. Normally I would panic or flee or worse, but not tonight. Tonight I locked eyes with Rhys, admiring that unique shade of violet that pulled me in from the moment I set eyes on him. The aisle was short and within a few steps I was clasping hands with Rhys. 

“You’re so beautiful mate,” he gushes, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“You clean up pretty good yourself mate,” I smile, squeezing his hands as we both turn to the priestess. 

“We all gather here today to be witness to the union of these two fae, and the crowning of our new High Lady of The Night Court,” the priestess begins and turns to Rhysand, “Do you, Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, take y/n to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” 

Rhys regarded me with a familiar gaze, one he had cast a thousand times, but this time held a distinct quality. It was a look of pride, something I had never seen before him. I had never held such significance for anyone. His gaze conveyed a sense that I was everything he had ever desired, the missing piece in his puzzle—lost and now found.

“I do,” he smiled and a tear fell down his cheek. 

The priestess turned to me, “Do you, y/n, Princess of the Spring Court, take Rhysand to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” she said. 

“I do,” I say to Rhys without hesitation. Down the bond I can feel joy in his heart rise. 

“Y/n,” she begins again. “Will you swear the oath of High Lady?” 

I smile and feel my nerves pick up but I answer truthfully, “I will,” 

The priestess picks up a glittering crown and holds it in her hands. The large diamonds atop it remind me of the stars that lie over the Illyrian mountain. “Do you y/n promise to serve and protect the Night Court? Do you promise to uphold the customs and practices of its people? To lay down your life for the sake of this court and always act in its best interest whatever the consequence?” she asked me. 

“I solemnly promise to do so,” I say assuredly. 

“Then I crown thee, High Lady of the Night Court,” she says, placing the crown on my head, the weight of it comforting me. “And by the power vested in me, by our High Lord Rhysand of the Night Court, I pronounce you both husband and wife. Rhysand, you may kiss your wife and your High Lady.” the priestess mused. 

“With pleasure,” he smiled before placing a hand on my cheek and pulling me in for a deep kiss. I couldn’t help but smile as I felt his rogue tear of happiness caress my cheek. 

I broke the kiss and looked into his eyes as I raised a hand to cup his face. He was so handsome, so perfect and he was mine. All I could think of was one word, husband. 

“Hell yeah I have a sister now!” Cassian shouted, picking me up and swinging me around before putting me down and engulfing me in a massive bear hug. I backed away to see Cassian’s happy face and then I felt a hand placed  on my shoulder.  

“We have a sister Cass,” Azriel crooned and I turned to give him a hug as well.

“Welcome to the family y/n!” Mor shouted, throwing her arms around me and it wasn’t long until the whole inner circle was giving me the world's longest group hug. 

Not the inner circle anymore, my family. The word used to taste like venom in my mouth, my family had never loved me, never seen me as anything but a means to power. A marble mansion that was so empty and cold. But now I had this, this family. This marriage might not save me from the demands of Tamlin and Eris, and me being High Lady might not give me immunity from Beron’s wrath. But it gave me one thing, something to fight for, not just my mate, but my family.  

The sun shined brightly in the Day Court like it did the last time I stepped foot here. Things had changed so much since then. Back then I had just met Rhys and he was begging me to just say his name. Now I walked in as his wife and his High Lady. Although my dress billowed behind me like I was going to a ball I had never felt more like I was going to war. 

Azriel and Cassian flanked behind us, normally they didn’t come to council meetings but Rhys told me he meant what he said, that he wouldn’t let Beron and Eris take me from him. He was prepared to fight our way out of this chamber, and was prepared to kill every High Lord in here. The scary part is that he was perfectly capable of doing so, especially with Azriel and Cassian with us. 

The room wasn’t abuzz with the usual chatter of High Lords and their companions when we arrived there. The second we crossed the threshold all eyes were on us. I couldn’t tell which drew their gaze the most, their princess of spring clad in black, the crown glittering atop my head, Rhysand’s death glare, or the Illyrians that flanked us. Each lord seated themselves presently, feeling our silent threat. Every lord but one. 

“Night becomes you, sister,” Tamlin drawls from where he leans over the long table, Beron and Eris seated on his left, Lucien at his right. 

“That it does, Tamlin,” I say, my words cold as ice. I feel Rhysand pluck at the bond showing his pride. 

“Rhysand, y/n. Please be seated so we may begin the trial,” Helion said. I had always loved Helion, and I could tell he wasn’t happy about this arrangement. But for whatever reason this is where the trial would be held. We do as we are asked, Cassian and Azriel standing behind us as the chairs here are not equipped for wings. “Beron, Tamlin we will hear your case, then Rhysand you will be able to state yours. After that the council will decide who is at fault.” Helion explains and nods to Beron to begin. 

“High Lord’s of Prythian I have brought this issue before you today because I wish to find a civil resolution to my case, rather than declaring war upon the Night Court,” Beron began. “A few weeks ago Tamlin and I had meetings discussing the betrothal of Eris and y/n. It had always been abundantly clear from that meeting forward that y/n belonged to Eris. All that stood in the way of formally announcing the engagement was solidifying the terms of the union, what we would give Tamlin in exchange for her and how many male heirs she would be required to bear Eris. She was the property of Eris Vanserra long before Rhysand ever tried to claim her.” Beron says with a confidence that I almost envy.  

It took everything inside of me not to lash out at the word “property” and Rhysand’s grip on my hand told me it killed him inside as well. I can’t help but feel some sort of fear, these men only see me as a breeding vessel, they don’t care for my happiness and they don’t care for my well being beyond my ability to bear sons. I don’t stand a chance at going home with Rhys.

Shhh, I’ll never let them take you. I’ll burn this place to the ground if they even touch you.  That beautiful, glorious voice cleaves into my mind and I let myself breathe again.

“And when did Rhysand make his claim on your sister?” Tarquin asks Tamlin, clearly still holding a grudge over the land dispute they had. 

“It started a week ago today, when my sister came home from what I thought was the Winter Court. She came into my office and told me that the High Lord of the Night Court had deflowered her and that because of it she no longer wished to marry Eris Vanserra. Soon after Rhysand broke into my court, attacked me, and stole my sister away.” Tamlin said. 

“You dirty fucking liar!” I stand unable to keep myself restrained anymore. I feel Rhysand’s hand grip my arm but I don’t care anymore. How dare Tamlin spew out such disingenuous claims in a trail such as this. 

“You are not a member of this council you useless whore and you will not speak unless spoken to!” Beron shouts standing as well, the moment he does his eyes go wide and pain laces his face. Rhysand stands beside me and I realize that he has his talons in Beron’s mind.  

“If you EVER speak of my wife in such a manor again, I will fucking kill you and every male heir you have Vanserra,” Rhysand booms, and even I feel a chill go down my spine. 

“Wife?!” Tamlin shouts in a fit of anger, taking to his own two feet. 

“And his High Lady,” I boast with pride and I scooch my hand to lay on top of Rhysand’s. All I can feel thrumming through the bond is pure male pride as the entire room begins to murmur their shock to one another. 

“Impossible,” Tamlin seethes, getting ready to pounce as the room continues in their sock and surprise. 

“Quiet!” Helion shouts above the crowd, and I don’t break eye contact with Tamlin. “All of you sit down now!”  

We do as we’re told but it doesn’t dissolve the tension in the room as we all continue to stare daggers into one another. Tamlin tries to cover his shock with anger but hides it poorly. 

“Rhysand, why did you attack Tamlin in his own court?” Helion asks calmly. 

“Because he threatened my mate,” he growled. This time the room gave a collective gasp and would’ve gone into full blown panic had Rhys not continued to speak. “I found her injured, freezing and starving in the dungeons below the Spring Court. If we had this meeting sooner you would be able to see the bruise around her beautiful neck from where he choked her.”

Neither party speaks save for the buzzing mumbles circling the room that followed the word ‘mate’. For me to be mated to Rhysand was surely the most exciting and scandalous thing to happen in a hundred years. Kallias was the one to finally break the silence.

“The laws of mates are absolute, and we will not stand by and watch this council question Rhysand and y/n another moment!” Kallias shouts, standing hand in hand with Vivianne. 

My head whips over to the High Lord and Lady and I expect to see something like pity in Viviane's eyes, but all I see is happiness and pride. Happiness for having finally found my mate, pride for having finally found the will to stand up for myself.

“I stand with Kallias and Viviane, if we don’t validate their mating bond, who's to say the council won’t stop with them.” Thessan says. “If I ever find my mate I don’t want to worry about them being taken away from me.” 

A collective murmur of agreement comes over the room and it seems that a verdict has been decided. Helion stands and the scrape of his chair echos off the marble walls quieting everyone down. 

“All those in favor of blessing the union of Rhysand and y/n?” he asks. Every single hand shoots up without hesitation, the only ones who don’t belong to the Spring and Autumn Court. “Rhysand and y/n. You have the blessing of this council.” Helion smiles. 

I turn to Rhys smiling brightly as the whole council room erupts in applause. His violet eyes gleam with pride and for the first time ever he drops his mighty High Lord act and smiles back. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him and I can hear Viviane saying “awww” from across the room. We break apart and I can’t help but stare at him. Free, I am finally free. 

“YOU SELFISH WHORE!” Tamlin screeches and in a second he leaps across the table. He doesn’t get far before blue and red siphons are holding him back. “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!” he screams struggling against Cassian and Azriel’s power.

Rhys threw his body in front of mine and I put a hand on his shoulder and began to move past him towards Tamlin. He grabs my wrist and I turn to meet his violet gaze. His eyes laced with worry asking me to stay behind him. 

“It’s okay,” I say quietly and Rhys lets go. I walk towards where Tamlin is still struggling and stand right in front of him. I can feel Rhys’ tension through the bond but I push it away. “You did this to yourself Tamlin. I wish things had been different, I really do. I could kill you right now, but I won’t. But if you EVER step foot in my court, I will send out my General, my Spymaster and my mate to find you and I will let them kill you in whatever way they deem worthy for a male such as you.” 

Tamlin stops struggling, unable to fight against Cassian and Azriel any longer. For once in my life, I see true fear in his eyes. A male stripped of everything, his land, his power, his bargaining chip and now his pride. 

I turn and take Rhysand’s hand and he leads me out of the council room, Cassian and Azriel flanking behind us in case Tamin gets any bright ideas again. 

“My strong, smart, beautiful mate. I am so proud of you. You spoke like a true High Lady in there,” Rhys boasts as we walk down the hall. 

“I feel like a High Lady now,” I laugh, squeezing his hand.

“Just wait till later, wife. I have every intention of taking you home and fucking you senseless while you wear nothing but that crown on your head.” Rhysand drawls low.

Rhys can hardly keep his hands off me as we burst into the townhouse. In fact he doesn't. I'm the one who has to open the front door because his fingers won’t stop dancing all over my waist as he leaves open mouth kisses all over my neck. If this was his reaction to me wearing a crown, best believe I would be wearing them a lot more often. 

The door slams behind us and in an instant he has me pressed up against it already lifting my skirts. 

“Rhys, Rhys wait there’s something I need to do first!” I protest as he attacks my neck.

“Yes, you need to do me first.” he smirks, kissing me again.

“Rhys stop!” I giggle pushing him off and he finally halts his movements. “Have a seat, I'll be right back.” I smile before disappearing into the next room. 

I look around the kitchen and all I see are ingredients. I turn to make sure Rhys isn’t following me and find him sprawled out on the couch in a fit of utter frustration. I try not to giggle to myself as I raid the kitchen. Normally the townhouse makes food for us, so being in here is new. I keep opening up drawers and only finding utensils, towels and bowls. 

“Wife, I'm dying in here!” Rhysand groans from the living room. 

“One moment my oh so impatient husband!” I holler back. 

My eyes land on a jar of strawberry jam and I snatch it up eagerly. I walk over to the bread box and pluck a slice from it. I place it on an ornate plate and begin to spread the jam on top as neat and perfect as can be before carrying it out to the living room where my husband is throwing his temper tantrum. 

“Here,” I say, handing him the toast with jam. “I know it’s not much but it’s all that was lying around.” 

Rhysand’s eyes light up as I present him with food that I made. He takes the plate carefully and looks at it, knowing full well what it means for a female to present her mate with food.  

“You want to mate? Right now?” he asks bewildered. 

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. 

“You do know what you’re getting into right? I won’t act like…myself. We’ll have to go into the mountains for  a while. I won’t be able to control myself,” he explains further and I can already feel the arousal pooling between my legs. 

“Yes I know what I’m getting myself into. We can go into the mountains for however long we need. But I want our first mating to be here, in our home. Then we can winnow to the cabin. That’s my only stipulation,” I tell him. 

“I will agree to that,” he replies. 

I don’t even have time to say another word before he takes a couple bites of the pathetic toast I made him. While I watch him consume it, I’m sure that it’s the worst mating meal a female has ever presented to a male. Nonetheless, he eats it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.  

His eyes flick up to meet mine and the plate is discarded on the floor with a crash. In mere seconds stands up and I swear to the gods he’s even taller than he normally is. His hand circles my waist and his touch sets me on fire, now that the mating bond has been accepted. His free hand tilts my chin up to him and he stares at my lips. I must look like a wanton whore begging for him to touch me. 

“Mine,” he growls before searing our lips together. The word alone tells me everything he said before this is true. This isn’t just Rhys, it’s Rhys in his most primal form. 

I whine into his lips and I feel him hoist me up in his arms with ease, despite the large amounts of tule that make up my dress. My hands are in his hair in an instant, nearly knocking the crown off his head and I grab it before it falls off. We start moving up the stairs as fast as Rhysand’s can carry us. 

“Best believe the first time I fuck you as my mate it’s going to be in our marriage bed,” he smirks before slamming the door to our bedroom with his foot. 

The second he talks about fucking me my skin is on fire and the buzzing sension I always felt when he was near was amped up times ten. Like if I didn’t get his cock in me right now I would burst into flames and die. He sets me down on my feet and I begin to undo the buttons of his shirt.  I feel him fumble with the millions of buttons fastening the back of my dress before a deafening rip sounds throughout the room and those millions of buttons are being cast off in every direction.

 I don’t even have a mind to care about it as the dress cascades down and pools on the floor. His mouth is all over my collar bones needy and leaving little bites all over me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful mate,” he groans between kisses. 

I feel my crown slipping and I move to take it off but I feel Rhys’ hand stop me. 

“What did I say earlier?” he asked. 

“That you wanted to fuck me while I wear nothing but the crown,” I say meekly remembering his promise.

“No I said I was going to fuck you senseless while you wear nothing but that crown mate,” he groans kissing me deeply again. 

I feel my legs hit the mattress and I fall back on it greedily. He stares down at me like I’m his own personal feast and he nearly pounces on me but I hold a hand up to stop him. 

“I want to try something,” I say before he can ravish me again. “Something I read about in a book.” I explain further. 

“Oh really? Well I won’t pass up that opportunity. What do you want me to do mate?” His voice is deep and husky.

“Just stand there,” I say before sliding off the bed and dropping to my knees in front of him. 

His eyes blow wide as I stare up at him from under my eye lashes. My hands go to his pants where I expertly un-fasten them and pull them down his legs along with his underwear. He steps on them and watches me intensely as I’m face to face with his aching cock.  

“Are you going to suck my cock wife?” he muses and the words go straight to my core as I wrap my hands around him and give a lick up his length. 

The sound that comes out of him is nothing short of animalistic. It spurs me on as I take him the entire length of my mouth and start sucking. Whatever I can’t fit in my mouth I stroke with my hands and the look of pure bliss on him has me seeing stars. He so fucking beautiful. His muscles are dripping with sweat from the need to cum in me, his eyes are closed taking every stroke I give him, and his lips are parted having the softest wimpers escape them. He’s never been more beautiful than he is right now and I can’t help but moan, sending vibrations through his cock. 

“Oh fuck mate!” he screams and his hands find the back of my head. I swear I’m so wet at the sight of him getting his pleasure from me that I might have left a wet spot on his carpet. I moan again to send another wave of vibrations through him. 

“Shit y/n I’m gonna cum, let me cum inside you!” He shouts trying to remove my head from his member but I swipe his hand away. 

I gently cup his balls and it has him emptying his load into my mouth. I work him through his orgasm staring up at him with the most innocent eyes. I pull my mouth off him and open it for him to see the evidence of his climax inside. I close it again and swallow, feeling the saltiness of it slide down my throat. I open my mouth again to show him that nothing was left and it has him spiraling. 

“You cruel wicked thing,” he growls, picking me up and throwing me on the bed. His body crawls over mine and I run my hands down his bare chest, toned and perfect and all mine. 

“Rhys I wanna try one more thing,” I whine but I’m silenced by his lips on mine. 

“I think it’s my turn now mate,” he whispers in my ear, making me shiver.

He kisses down my neck and my collar bones. I feel his tongue swirl around each of my peaked nipples and I cry out at the friction I didn’t know I needed so badly. His mouth presses a kiss under my breast and when he reaches my lower stomach he looks up at me with a feral grin. 

“I want you to know that I have every intention of getting you so thoroughly pregnant that every male in Prythian will have no choice but to recognize that you are my mate.” He growls, pressing a kiss over my womb. “But not tonight, and not anytime soon. For now I will take pleasure in showing them what an amazing High Lady you are.”  

His mouth trails down and kisses either side of my bare thighs. His hand runs over my stomach and down my leg to hike one knee up over his shoulder to give himself access to where I need him most. 

“Now watch how a High Lord eats out his High Lady, mate,” he grins before diving into me like a starved man. 

I arch my back off the mattress and my hands fly to  his silky hair. I accidentally tug his strands too hard causing him to groan, the vibrations stimulating my clit. He pulls his mouth off me and plunges his fingers inside me, curling them to hit that spongy spot that always left me undeniably breathless. He pulls his head back to watch how I take his fingers and his eyes catch on something. 

“There’s that perfect clit,” he smiles slowly lowering his mouth over the sensitive bud so that his breath fanned it. “Show me those pretty little sounds you make when I lick it, wife.” 

His tongue gives a teasing lick at the apex of me and I let out a moan that’s so high pitched it’s nearly embarrassing. He only chuckles before attacking the spot with a million little licks. The combination of his tongue and his fingers have me screaming his name in no time. 

“Oh gods Rhysand!” I scream as I hit my climax. Tears sting my eyes from the immense pleasure. Rhys has always been able to pull orgasm after orgasm from my body, but the mating bond heightens everything. 

“I need you,” he growls crawling back up my body. “Now”

I pull him close and I feel his hands flip my hips around so that I’m on all fours for him. I nearly groan at the feeling of him running a large hand down my spine. 

“Rhys please,” I cry, pressing my ass into his hard cock. 

“Shh, patience mate,” leans over and whispers in my ear. I feel his cock nudge my entrance and within a moment he is pushing himself into me.  

The stretch is enough to have my chest heaving in pleasure, but the full feeling of him inside of me has me letting out a moan. His hands grip my hips as he starts to thrust inside of me. 

“Always so fucking tight for me,” Rhys grits out increasing his pace.

“Harder Rhys!” I scream needing more of him. 

It’s at that moment I realize that I’ll never truly get enough of him. He could shackle me to his bed and never stop fucking me and it still wouldn’t be enough. The need for him was too great, even before the mating bond. Before I even said his name. I had needed him the second I saw that flash of violet. I’ll never stop needing him. 

“You’re fucking mine!” He growls as his grip on my hips tighten and the moans coming out of him are pure mated male. 

“Oh fuck Rhys I’m gonna…” I shout my words trailing off. 

“Cum for me mate,” he orders me and I oblige.

I climax so hard my vision blacks out for a second, my pussy contracting around him sending him sputtering and cumming inside of me with a roar and I swore the house shook. I collapse, burying my face into the pillow. I feel him gently turn my body over so he can see me. His eyes fall to where his cum is leaking out of me and he bends down to press a kiss to my clit again. 

“Mine,” he says, eyes peering up at me. 

He crawls up to me and pulls me on top of his chest stroking my hair. 

“So it’s official, I am now your wife, your High Lady AND your mate.” I laugh. 

“If I had more titles left to give you I would,” he chuckles, running his hands through my hair more. 

“I don’t think I could ever ask for more than this, more than you.” I say pressing a kiss to his chest and leaning up so I was straddling him. He put his arms behind his head and stared at me like I was a work of art. “I love you so much Rhys. I only wish the gods had given me a million more ways to say it. But I can’t make it any simpler than that… I love you.” 

“I know the feeling, sometimes I get frustrated because ‘I love you’ doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I feel for you mate,” he smiles. 

I lean down to kiss him passionately, hoping that if words can’t tell him how much he means maybe actions can. I know they won’t. His hands slide from behind  his head to my waist and my hair, pulling me deeper into him. My hips grind on his abs a little and I feel his hard cock brush up against my back side causing him suddenly to stop. 

“We need to get to the cabin,” he says frantically. “Now.” 

The cold mountain air grazes my skin as I sit on the bannister watching the sun come up. The silk bathrobe does little to keep me warm, but the breeze is refreshing. I glance through the window where I see Rhysand sleeping on the massive bed. 

We had been holed up in the snowy mountains for a week now doing everything but sleeping. He wasn’t wrong about the Frenzy and how it would affect our ability to function as normal fae. One night I tried to prepare dinner for us and we lasted about 10 minutes before he took me on the kitchen counter. As I watched the sun rise on the glistening snow I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that every surface in that cabin had been defiled in one way or another. 

The birds began to chirp as I took another long sip of my warm tea. Never had I been so at peace. Never had I been so loved. It was as if every moment of my life had been leading to this one right here. To him.

I felt two warm arms snake around my front as Rhys placed a kiss on my cheek. 

“You’re going to freeze to death out here,” he mumbles into my neck. 

“No I’m not you big worry wart,” I giggle as his lips tickle my neck. I feel him wrap a blanket around the two of us and I lean back into his chest savoring the warmth of him. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, resting his head on top of my head. 

“I’m thinking about how everything in my life led me to you. How I’ve never been more happy and at peace than I am in this court.” I say honestly. 

“Your court my Lady,” he smiles, pressing another kiss to my cheek. 

“Our court, Rhys,” I smile. “What do we do now?”

Rhys chuckles into my shoulder, “We go home, we rule, and you let me love you forever.” he whispers, kissing my shoulder. 

I turn to face him, “I think I can live with that.” I smile.

(AN: wow I'm kinda sad that this series is over now. I feel like I'm going to me missing a huge piece of me :( I want to say thank you to all who read this and supported me, I never thought this would get as much love as it did. I hadn't written in so long, it feels so good to know that people still care about the things I dream up. Now I have some good news...

The next mini series is going to be about...

now drumroll please....

CASSIAN x Female! Reader

I'm so pumped to write this it's been in my head forever. Plot is that the reader is Rhysand's little sister and she is betrothed to Eris. So if you loved the secret love aspect of this series you're going to EAT UP the next one. If you would like to be on the taglist for it go ahead and let me know!)

Taglist: @crystalferret202, @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88 , @tenaciousperfectionunknown , @judig92, @aunicornmademedoit , @sharknutz , 

 @slytherintaco, @isa1b2h3, @nickishadow139  , @sarawritestories , @coisas-da-dani ,  @lovemesomevesey ,  @graceshifts ,  @writeroutoftime, @why4anne,