#IGNORE THE FACT THAT THIS IS LIKE. ALL OF THEM

[g4rvez-r3id]

I’m Here, Now

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!Fem Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Spencer gets released from prison and you���re his first stop after dealing with Cat Adams and her schemes. And all he wants to do is see you and love you.

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established relationship, prison arc, spoilers of season 12 of Criminal Minds, it’s a lil sad tbh but it only lasts for a second, reader’s in disbelief, spencer and reader being cutesy, crying, kissing, mentions of bruises, threats, sappy speeches, fluffy ending, lowkey not true to 12x22/13x01 so this could be an au! smut warnings: soft!dom spencer (firm believer here🙋‍♀️), a lil body worship from reader to spencer, oral sex (m receiving & reader receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, “good girl”, riding, unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, spencer lowkey being a munch- that should cover it 😃

Author’s Note: hey lovelies, i can’t stop writing smutty oneshots ahhhh i can’t help it, i just love my man 🤭 i hope y’all enjoy this because i’ve had my mind on prison arc reid bc i’m watching s12 rn and oooo he so fine in 12a and in 12b 😩 anyways hope y’all like this <3

You worried that maybe he’d never come back. Upon hearing he was in jail in Mexico, you worried you’d never see Spencer again.

If your past self could tell you that your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid, who was a nerd at heart, who spent his free time playing chess and reading and watching Doctor Who with you under your fluffy blankets and wore mismatched socks because he believed it was good luck, that he would one day end up being framed and sent to prison, you would’ve laughed in your face.

You never would’ve expected this to happen. But then you heard why. He was framed for murdering a woman named Nadie Ramos, who was helping him get his mother medicine that seemed to calm her from her episodes. If there was anyone he would’ve risked everything for besides you, it was his mother.

And to be honest, you were a little mad at him for lying to you. He told you that he was going to Houston to talk to some of his mom’s doctors. You’d been together four years now and not once did he ever lie to you until now. When he got transferred to the Milburn Correctional Facility, due to overcrowding, he’d requested to see you and only you.

It wasn’t until Spencer wrote you a letter, practically begging you to come and see you. The first time you’d gone to see him, you actually didn’t even recognize him, skipping over him and almost staring at him in confusion when he walked over to the other side of your plexiglass.

And you tried to play it off like you expected him, even while looking like he did, but he knew deep down you didn’t recognize him. He chose not to acknowledge it but you both knew.

And you visited him frequently, until he decided to cut you from the visitor log with no warning. You were hurt, to say the least. And you ended up avoiding everyone after that. You even ignored the many fruit baskets Garcia kept sending over but you kept sending them back.

But then a miracle happened.

They proved his innocence. And he was out.

You would’ve found that out if you’d checked your phone but you spent the entire day in bed, away from society and sobbing at the fact that he was gone and he wasn’t here, comforting you like he did so well.

You hated him, you hated him for putting you in this position, for making you deal with the aftermath, for pushing you away. But you loved him. You would never stop loving him, no matter how much you hated him right now.

You’d been laying in bed, tossing and turning all day as the TV played some random sitcom you watched every now and again. And you’d heard something. A soft knock coming from your front door.

You almost missed it but it was faint. And you heard it. Choosing to finally get out of bed, you opened your room door and walked to the front door. You opened it without checking the peephole, because at this point you’d had enough and just wanted death to get you over with already.

But death may have stopped your heart only for a moment when you open the door.

Because standing there, in the suit he’d gotten arrested in when his bail was denied, his hair outgrown and his stubble framed nicely on his face — was your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, in the flesh.

You gasped softly as you backed away from the door and stared at him, almost as if you were disbelief. You’d had a dream like this before. Where he came back and promised he was here to stay. (But it was another one of God’s cruel jokes and you cried when you woke up the following day).

He walked in and closed the door right behind him, standing tall in front of you. You noticed the bruises on his face, how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and stared at you.

“Hi.” He said softly and all you can do is stare at him. “Am I dreaming?” You find yourself asking out loud and his heart breaks. He can see that you’re scared. Scared that if you go up to him, he’ll disappear like smoke. And he hates that.

“No.” Spencer shakes his head and he waits for you to approach him and you do, walking slowly towards him as the floorboard creaks beneath your socked feet.

He waits as you first grab his hands, and interlock your fingers together. When that seems not to be enough for you, your hands move to his face. You caress the sharp new grown stubble on his face and drag your index finger to his plump lips and stare into his hazel eyes and they’re full of wonder and love.

You don’t even register the tears until you hold him in your arms and you hold onto him for dear life. He holds you tightly in his arms as you find yourself wrapping around him like a koala and all he can do is hold you back. And it grounds him, you ground him.

Your head moves towards his and you kiss his lips, like you’ve longed to do for three months. And part of you still couldn’t believe this, that he was here, holding you like you were going to break.

You kiss him a few more times before you pull back and ask with tears in your eyes, “Are you okay?” Spencer nods toward your forehead, “I’m okay, now that I’m here.”

“You’re here, now.” You look him in the eyes as you say this and he nods at your words, repeating them to himself. “I’m here, now.” It’s as if he’s reminding himself that he’s here with you because he’s worried he’s gonna wake up any minute and he’ll be back in that cell. You weren’t the only one who had a hard time believing this was real.

Spencer’s lips catch yours and he pushes into the kiss and you get back on the ground, your hands (or mouth) not leaving him for a second and making their way up to his hair and pulling. You whine into his lips as he you pull him by his belt and walk backwards to your bedroom with him following you.

With your strength, you twirl the two of you around and straddle him as you continue to kiss him. You rock your hips into his growing bulge and he moans into your mouth and you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

You begin to unbutton his suit and successfully get his blazer off and now next is his dress shirt but he’s quick to grab your hands and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You ask, willing to put a stop to this if he wasn’t ready. “Nothing, I just…” Spencer looks down as he lets go of your hands and seemingly now growing insecure all of a sudden.

He stands up from the bed and you look up at him as he holds his arms over his stomach. “I just… I got hurt pretty bad in there. You’re gonna see some bruises. I just don’t want you to freak out. He admits and your heart breaks, “You don’t have to take your shirt off. Or we can just stop entirely and—”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’re gonna see them eventually.” With that, he begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you give him all the time in the world to do so, not wanting to rush this at all.

When he takes off his dress shirt successfully, you finally see it. He has bruises everywhere on his ribs and some near his belly button and on his stomach. Some are still in the process of healing with yellow and gray hues and some are purple and mucus green.

“Oh, my love…” You whisper to yourself as you stand up and you turns him around and find more on his back and there’s just too many of them. You find yourself tearing up but you know you need to keep it together for him. Who could hurt your sweet boy? Was this why he didn’t want you to see him anymore while he was still in there? How long did this go on for?

It’s then that you register the bruise near his eye. You thought that it was due to the lack of sleep he’d been getting and assumed it was the bags under his eyes he so often got but it was a bruise. How did you miss that when he walked in?

He almost wants to hide himself, like a turtle under its’ shell and you look down at his body. “Baby…” You start but he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks at you as you guide him towards the bed and he lays back and you go back to straddling him, but this time, you’re careful as you hover over him.

You kiss his lips before making your way down to his neck and then to his body and it takes a second for him to register that you’re not just kissing his body, you’re kissing the bruises.

He feels himself getting choked up as you kiss every visible one and his heart swells for you. What did he did to deserve you?

You begin to unbuckle his belt but he rests his elbows on the bed and looks down at you. “You—You don’t have to…” He trails off but you quickly shake your head. “I know. But I want to. It’s your first night back. This is about you tonight, baby.”

Spencer doesn’t interfere, just stares as you unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock through the hole in his underwear and it springs into action, dripping pre-cum from the head. “Oh, my sweet boy. You must be so pent up.”

You kiss the tip of his dick and he shuts his eyes tightly as if he’s trying to hold back from already cumming. You lick up his shaft and fit his cock inside your mouth and he curses to himself as he grips your bedsheets as tight as he can.

You notice this, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers together, as if you’re telling him and giving him permission to touch you as you bob your head up and down.

He takes this opportunity to caress your face as you take him into your mouth. He ties your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes deeper onto his cock and even lifts his hips to ensure that you’re taking all of him until you’re gagging.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer tells you and you nod to the best of your ability until you begins to fuck your throat, using your mouth for his pent up pleasure. “Fuck… God, you’re so good at that. Letting me fuck your throat like the good girl you are.”

His words could make you cum on the spot without him even laying a finger on you. He rarely cursed in your domestic setting but he did it often when you two were in bed.

All you can do is take it as deep as it can go in your mouth. He whines into the ceiling as he says your name until you feel his hot cum dribble down your throat and your nose is buried into his crotch as he holds you there and makes you take all his cum into your mouth.

He pants as he releases your head from his cock and you swallow the rest of his cum. He looks at you with worried eyes, concerned that maybe he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, like he didn’t just cum into your mouth and call you a “good girl”.

You shake your head at him with a small smile. “That was just about the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” (And everything he did was always hot). He blushes and crooks a smile.

“Are you willing to keep going?” You ask him and he nods with an immediate answer, “Absolutely.” He’d never let you go to bed without making you cum at least twice.

You climb on top of him with a smirk and look deeply into his eyes. They’re filled with lust, love and adoration for you and for you only. “You’re so beautiful.” You say to him in a whisper but Spencer chuckles a bit, “I should be saying that to you.”

You look down as your pussy catches the tip of his cock and you sink down into him carefully. He moans at the feeling and you gasp. He fits perfectly.

“God, I missed you. Missed this…” Spencer catches his breath. “Perfect pussy.” You chuckle and looks into his eyes as you rock back and forth. “It was so lonely without you, Spencer.” You whine. “I missed you so much.”

You lean down as you kiss him on the lips. “Did you…” He pauses, not wanting to be crude even while he was inside of you. “While I was away?” It took a second to figure out what he was talking about. And then you realized that he was asking if you’d masturbated while he was away.

“A few times,” You admitted shyly, despite suffocating him with your pussy. “I thought about you every time. It just wasn’t the same. Missed your body.”

Spencer smiles darkly, “Maybe I should punish you for that.” He says, half-joking. You lean forward as you smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

And without a second thought, it was as if a switch flipped as Spencer was quick to flip your bodies over and he hovers over you, both hands on either side of your head, gripping the pillows. “You really wanna test that theory?”

You bite your lip and smirk once more as you pull him in for another kiss and he glides himself into you and you gasp at the feeling of his dick inside of your pussy. It’d been such a long time since you felt him like this, here, in your arms. God, you love him.

He rocks his hips, thrusting deeply into your body as leans his head in your shoulder, mumbling sweet obscenities and how good your pussy feels and how responsive you were. He dreamt of the day he’d have you like this. And since being in prison, he longed for it more.

He reached down in between your legs as he found your clit without even looking down and staring deeply into your eyes and your moans reverberate through the walls as keeps his eyes on you and you only.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I need to cum— where? Where?” He asks and you shut your eyes tightly as you shout, “Inside! Oh, god, inside!”

He pushes himself hard into you as you finally cum, your legs shaking as you moan his name into the ceiling and he collapses on your body, still sheathed inside of you.

You both lay there, panting and reveling in the feeling of each other. Eventually, Spencer does pull out of you and you feel as he lowers himself, eyeing your pussy up close and you look down at him sleepily. “Baby, you don’t have to. This was about you.” You assure.

“Nonsense,” Spencer tells. “I need to clean up my mess and even the score, might as well kill two birds with one stone.” He jokes, diving face first into your pussy and you whimper at the contact he makes, especially with the way his stubble is rubbing against your thighs, cleaning his own cum out of your pussy and relishing in the way you both taste.

His mouth captures your clit and he twists his tongue around the bud in that delicious way you love and he moans into your pussy. “We taste so good together, baby. Cum again on my tongue, this time.”

You tug at his messy hair as you hold his head to you pussy and you use him, rocking your hips into his mouth. You feel as your legs shake once more and you let go of his head for him to take a breather.

That breather lasts only a second before he dives back in and you whine at the contact. “Spence… baby, I’m sen—sensitive.”

“You can take one more, baby. I know you can. You can cum again.” Spencer says, his pupils are blown as he looks at you and he’s commanding you to cum again. “Just one more, baby.”

You nod at him and Spencer grabs your hands. “Here,” He interlocks your fingers with his and somehow, the pleasure is so much and yet not at all as makes you cum for a third time tonight. If he could spend forever eating your pussy, he would.

You close your eyes for a moment and when you finally open them, he’s right next to you and holding you. (He’d cleaned you up properly with a warm rag and left your favorite snack and water bottle on the desk next to your bed whenever you were ready to wake up). You remembered the loving words he whispered to you as you drifted off into a heavy slumber.

And you’ve finally woken up. You look up at him, still in awe of him being here. You take the chance to check the time. It’s already 5am and the sun is still shy away from rising but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because you have your boyfriend right next to you, holding you for dear life and loving you the way you deserve to be loved.

You worry that he’s still up, but you figure that after all those months in prison, maybe he has trouble sleeping every now and again. You find yourself holding him tighter as you look down at the bruise near your head. You can’t believe he was hurt. How did he manage to survive in there? You’re still wondering why he’d taken you off the visitor’s log.

“Spencer?” You ask and he looks down at you, your voice surprising him. “Yeah?” You sit up and look at him, face to face, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Why did you take me off the visitor’s list?” You decide to ask.

He’s about to respond and you don’t want to hear another lie. You’d been through plenty of those already. “I mean, I didn’t even want to see you at first and then you begged me to and then all of a sudden, I wasn’t allowed to. I feel like I have the right to know.”

“No, no, you do,” Spencer knows that much. He hates the fact that he’s lied to you and has forced you to deal with this when all you deserved was the best from him. He sits up next to you he knows he’s gonna need to tell you, even though he doesn’t want to.

“The last time after you came to visit me,” Spencer started. “I got cornered in my cell. A lot of the guys there were asking about you. And they said that it’d be a shame if something happened to you when you came to visit again.” You look down as he talks about it. “And I didn’t want to risk that. And I wanted to tell you, really, I did.” He grabs your hand assuringly. “But I didn’t have any way to. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. I would’ve died if something happened to you and I didn’t do everything in my power to stop it. I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

You shake your head. And you finally understand. Because if the roles were reversed, you would’ve taken him off the visitor’s list, too. If it meant protecting him. “You were just trying to protect me, I understand.”

“I just…” Spencer looks at you, holding your face in his hands. “I love you, so much.” He looks deeply into your eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reveals and your eyes widen. “What?”

Spencer closes his eyes and holds his index finger up. “One second.” He stands up and grabs his blazer from off the floor and digs into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen as you cover your body with the sheet and he kneels down on one knee in his boxers and opens the velvet box to reveal a ring. “I didn’t want to do it like this but I’d rather do it now than wait for the right time to.” Your eyes glance down at the box for a mere second and then to the love of your life.

“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make my days better, hell, you’ve made my life better. And no matter what we’ve gone through, you’ve stayed by my side and you never ran. I love that you sing off-key, I love that your nose twitches when you get mad, I love that you like… pineapple on pizza, oddly enough.” You chuckle at this. “I love everything about you. And I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you. But… but true love, it fosters a connection that goes beyond the superficial. It's a bond that often involves understanding each other's core values, beliefs, and life goals. And you’ve made me believe in true love.“

You stare at him in disbelief as he continues, “Will you marry me?” You feel tears spring into your eyes as you nod vehemently, “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” You smile widely and he smiles at you, slipping the ring onto your ring finger as you continue to mutter a million yeses.

When you finally get the ring on, you pull him in for another kiss and he holds you to his heart’s content. It wasn’t the way he envisioned it going, but with you, you knew you didn’t want big and bold ways of him saying he loved you and wanted to marry you, you were content with something small and sweet because it was coming from him and that was the biggest gift of all. You were one for grand gestures, you liked it just the way it was. It was perfect. He was perfect. And you’d spend the rest of your life reminding him he was.

So, you laid back in your bed with your fiancé and talked and talked about sweet nothings until the sun came up. And all of the ache you felt the night before, the pain you endured was long gone and now replaced with something beautiful and sweet.

[souljahwwitch]

PINK HAIRED SWEETHEART!

;hc’s for thanos and reader with pink hair who hate eachother

“i fucking hate that pink haired sweetheart”

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who immediately noticed you, pink hair and doe eyes—everyone noticed you two, the unusal hair color making you two stand out in amidst of 456 players

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who, of course, first flirted with you and, of course, got his ego hurt because you just ignored him—you were here to win, not get distracted by stupid rappers.

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who actually saved your life in the very first game, unusally so—he pulled you behind him as people in the row started to slip before the doll turned around

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost, sweetheart—need me to make it all better hm?”

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who-when the game was over, approached you with confidence, saying “i saved your life, i think i deserve a little kiss—don’t i?” with that cocky voice of his

“oh fuck off—i just got caught off guard and you were there.” you said—and that’s when the hatred started.

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who got offended after you said that-because how could him pulling you behind him be ‘no biggie’ he totally didn’t do that to get in your pants!!!

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who would start mocking you, pulling you by your hair everytime you pass by him, throwing your lunch on the ground—everything, and him being actually struck by your pretty eyes, even though you annoyed him so fucking much, he didn’t mind one bit when you yelled at him—in fact, he found it cute.

“stop fucking pulling my hair!” you’d yell—but he’d just smirk

“relax, angel—would be a shame if i actually ruined your pretty pink hair, wouldn’t it?” he’d coo in that annoying tone of his, and you’d just hiss at him, walking away as he watched you with annoyance in his eyes—nam-gyu just watching you two in disbelief

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who’d watch you actually being sweet to others, trying to help everyone around you—except him, and that annoyed him to no end, why would you be sweet to those losers when he was right there!!

“man you need to stop looking at her like that.” nam-gyu said as they both watched you sparing your lunch and giving it to some scared boy

“i fucking hate that pink haired sweetheart.”

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who, once in this whole time, took a pity on you when he saw you on your bed—hugging your knees and hiding your face in them as you sniffled, too scared of watching people die around you—and him being him, he approached you—his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

“y’know it’s not your fault, right? i know you wanna help everyone but you’re not some kind of savior.” he says to you, but he sees that it doesn’t make it any better

“you know—i fucking hate you, but when we get out of here with shit ton of money, we’re gonna go to some pretty little cafe, and the soda’s on me, deal?” he says, and that actually makes you smile—so you nod in acceptance, and it makes his heart skip a beat

۫ ꣑ৎ; thanos who, in the game mingle, as soon as the number that was shouted was two, he pulled you by your wrist and ran with you to a room, he didn’t know why he did it, he hates you—you hate him. but it’s something you two are gonna talk about when you get out of here.

[entitled-fangirl]

Little doe.

Cregan Stark x betrothed Velaryon!reader

Summary: the reader is everything Cregan isn't- soft, kind, and delicate. He's determined to be gentle.

Warnings: age gap, soft dominance, talk of blood and consummating a marriage, bedding ceremony

A/n: This one is fluff and stuff. Perhaps a part two with a little smut is needed 🤭

Masterlist

......................................................

Cregan was only a tad worried.

The journey back to Winterfell was almost silent, and he was beginning to grow concerned for the quiet woman seated on her horse next to him.

The Velaryon Princess.

After winning the war, young Aegon III honored his mother’s promise to the Stark: help win the war, and he could have the hand of the Princess.

Rhaenyra’s only daughter.

When Daemon had found out about his wife’s bargaining while he was away in Harrenhall, he was furious. The child was not his and still he felt a responsibility for her. And handing off the only daughter to a dynasty like this one felt wrong.

But that was then. And this is now.

Cregan’s horse brushed against hers. “Nervous?”

Her head turned, her eyes moving over his face as if taking in every inch of him.

He now realized just how much she looked like her brothers.

She was the second eldest child, between Jace and Luke, and yet she was nothing like the two. Her parents (all four of them) had kept her from even the hint of conflict and battle, and it showed. She was more graceful and delicate, soft-spoken and kind, not an experienced warrior who could lead against the greens with an iron fist.

That’s what worried the Stark.

He was quite a bit her elder, her now 18 and him being 24. A lot of change happens in a mere six years- for Cregan, he had fought and won a whole war in less time than that of their age gap. And because of his well fought war, he was more harsh.

He feared he couldn’t be the gentle husband she needed.

She hummed, as if that was answer enough for him. The soft clomping of their horses was the only sound between them.

He sighed. “I believe I asked you a question. It’s rude to ignore someone, Princess.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t meant offense by her actions. In fact, she was rather mortified that he had taken offense to it in the first place. “Perhaps a bit nervous,” she admitted softly. 

Her voice was soft and calm. It was everything Cregan was not used to.

He hummed back, not even aware that he was doing the very thing he criticized her for. “Winterfell is only a day’s right out. There’s not a reason for nerves.”

“I’ve not… I’ve not been away from Dragonstone or King’s Landing before,” she mumbled.

Cregan was surprised by that. But being the sheltered princess, he assumed there was much she didn’t know about. “You are in for an adventure then, little dragon.”

…

Outside of the castle doors, Cregan dismounted his horse and stepped to the princess. Without question or concern, he grabbed her by her hips and lifted her from her horse. Her body slid down his as he lowered her, their faces too close for comfort for either of them. As if in slow motion, her lips parted but no sound came out. She didn't know what to say.

Cregan's large hand brushed hair away from her face and his eyes set on her like a starved wolf- observant, and yet, ready to strike anything at a moment's notice.

His head dipped down, his nose brushing her temple as he took in the proximity of the two. "We'll marry soon," he remarked quietly.

Another hum came from her but he let it slide. It sounded more like the squeak of a frightened mouse and he would be an arse for ridiculing her for it. In fact, it amused him. His lips tugged up into a grin as his hands tightened on her waist. "You're not a big, strong dragon," he mused. He bent down a little more to whisper in her ear. "You're just a frightened deer."

Her big doe eyes stared up into his in anticipation and worry for his next move. She may have been innocent, but she was not dumb. She knew what powerful men did to women when they so choose.

His lips quirked up. "Can I kiss you, little doe?" He asked as his lips brushed her cheek.

She tilted her head down in embarrassment but Cregan caught her chin. 

"So soft," he mused kindly. "I can be patient."

He released her and her lungs finally filled with air. She rested a hand against the horse in an attempt to collect herself. He offered his arm politely, though his eyes said that it was expected of her to take it.

Together, they walked into Cregan's home.

…

"Knew I'd find you eventually," his deep voice interrupted the silence.

She gasped. Her hand dropped from the shelf she was admiring the contents of. "Lord Stark. Forgive me."

He shrugged. "Don't know why I would need to. Just a curious doe, hm?"

She shook her head insistently. "I only meant-"

"-Please," he smiled as he took slow steps to her. "My home is yours now. Don't apologize for being in your home."

She smiled lightly. "Thank you."

He reached out and took the carefully bound book in her hand. "Stark history," he noted. He flipped it back and forth. "Are you truly interested?"

She nodded.

He smiled- a genuine one. "I'm glad." He held it out for her to take again. But when her hand reached out, he pulled it back teasingly. When her face fell and her hand hesitated, he finally handed it to her. "If you want more, I can manage a few of the-"

"-Please," she insisted. 

His eyes traced her face and he nodded. "Course. Consider it done." He closed the distance and dipped his head down, kissing her head without much thought.

As he walked off, her hand came up to the spot he had just kissed.

…

During the entire wedding feast, she was lightheaded. The ceremony had her numb. But what really sold it all was Cregan's heavy kiss on her lips at the end of it. He had cupped her cheeks and gave her a weighted kiss. Like he was hungry. Like he'd consume her.

She tried to eat even a little of what was in front of her, but she couldn't. The back of Cregan's hand brushed her hair over her shoulder. "Eat."

She looked over to him with a questioning look. "I am."

He smiled, completely amused. His hand found a comfortable place to the back of her neck. "Staring at everyone else does nothing."

"I have not-"

His voice rumbled as he muttered her name. "I placed more on your plate minutes ago and you've yet to even notice."

"W-" True to his word, there was additional food on her plate. Her eyes bore into his. "Forgive me. I d-"

His thumb rubbed into the skin at the back of her neck. "-'s alright. But eat."

She hummed then paused and forced herself to give him a verbal answer. "I will."

He smiled, beginning to massage the nape of her neck. For someone so harsh, his hands were gentle.

…

She let out a shriek when the men finally set her down in the chamber. Cregan was already in there, ushered by the women. They had managed to get him down to his tunic and trousers. His head snapped to her when he heard the noise. 

He lightly shoved away the hands of the woman untying the strings of his tunic. He stepped through the small crowd of men with light shoves until he was next to Y/n.

She had been stripped of all but her shift, her hair tousled from its neat updo earlier. There was a slight fear to her eyes that worried Cregan. 

He pushed off the men enough to give the two room. He circled her and pulled her to him. With his chest against her back, his head lowered to kiss her neck. The men hollared and cheered, all excited that the Stark had begun the bedding ceremony.

His kisses trailed up her neck until his lips brushed her ear. "Are you scared?" He asked so lowly that only those two could hear. "I'll call it off."

She felt frozen, her eyes stuck on the ground.

He nipped at her ear, his hand slowly brushing down her forearm until he joined their hands together. "Squeeze my hand and I'll do it."

She had to force herself to wiggle each finger until she was able to finally squeeze his hand.

"Go," he muttered immediately against her neck to the others. There was a hesitation in the room. Like perhaps they hadn't heard him right.

Cregan's head raised slowly, taking in the room. His gaze was truly wolfish.

The room emptied after that.

When the door closed, Cregan's hands dropped from her body. He moved away, going to the small table against the wall and pouring himself a drink. He looked back with a questioning look if she wanted one, to which she denied.

Downing the cup, he filled it again and took it with him to move back to her. She had yet to move.

He stepped in front of her. "Are you afraid?"

Y/n lifted her chin to finally look at him. There was a glazed look in her eyes, though there were no tears. She took a breath to brave saying what she wanted. "Does it matter?"

His head lulled to the side with a sigh and a smile. He looked down at the content of the cup and swirled it before offering it.

Her fingers wrapped around it and she soon downed the contents.

"I will never force myself on you," he promised. He ran a hand through his hair. "Us North, we can be… brude-ish. I forget you were made with gentle hands." He takes the cup back. "Need more?"

She shook her head. And when he moved away, she walked to the bed and sat down.

Cregan soon joined her. He sat next to her and the two stared at the wall. He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly until he figured out what he wanted to say. "You're the most delicate woman I've ever known. I'm not sure what to do with you. I want to hold you but… my hands have never cradled anything. You understand?"

She nodded, picking at a string on her shift.

His hand covered hers. His head dipped down. "Give me a better answer than that."

She looked to him. "I do understand."

He accepted that. "Thank you." He gently pinched her chin between his fingers. Cregan's eyes darkened at the proximity of the two. His eyes raked over her face carefully, taking in every part of her. "Most beautiful doe I've ever laid eyes on."

…

"C'mere," Cregan motioned.

Y/n moved to him. 

The two had grown more familiar with one another. The consummation of their marriage remained undone, though neither cared. Cregan, the night of the wedding, had ruffled his wife's hair and slashed his hand to spread blood across the sheets. The North was none the wiser.

It was especially believable with how close the two had grown- though that was entirely unplanned.

When she neared the desk, he stood and offered his chair. He leaned over it to talk over her shoulder. "Look here." 

On Cregan's large wooden desk lay a large fabric with stitching in a webbing pattern, names scattered everywhere across it.

It was a Stark family tree.

His hand reached over her and brushed the fabric. "Here I am. And my brother- before he died. Father there, and mother." His hand came back to his spot, brushing idly. "I'll have your name sewn in soon."

She leaned back in the chair. "I thought that was reserved until a woman has given you children?"

He shrugged without a care. "You are my wife."

She wanted to argue further but his fingers had wandered to her hair, twirling around the soft locks slowly. He looked rather entranced as he admired the woman. She cleared her throat. "According to the law, this marriage is not legally binding yet."

"Yet. Not yet." He leaned over the backrest. "But if I recall right, I banished the law from our bed. The priests and lawmakers. Because you asked me to."

She shivered, leaning forward to escape the overwhelming feeling of him consuming her every thought.

Cregan twirled one last curl in his hand before letting it fall. He stepped around the desk to face her. "I'll have you stitched into the fabric within the fortnight. I don't need a child to prove that you're mine." He stretched. "I'm off to petitions. Tell me you'll miss me."

Her lips pulled up into a happy smile. "I cannot lie and say that I won't."

He accepted that. "It's almost beginning to sound like you love me."

She flushed. 

Rheanyra had never loved Laenor. Not… not like that. Alicent had never loved Viserys. Helaena and Aegon… Never was a political marriage as filled with admiration as this. It frightened her.

She had heard tales of men bedding mistresses, and wives with other men than their husband. It was normal in a sense to do so. But now, in front of Cregan, she couldn't imagine her soul surviving if Cregan loved another. And to cheat on him would be to cheat on everything she loves. Everything she l-

She loved him.

It hit her harshly. 

Her silence had confused Cregan. "Didn't mean much by it, Doe. Only jesting."

If only he knew her heart already belonged to him and him alone.

.............................................

Taglist: @alyssa-dayne @twinkletwinklenotastar @kidd3ath @yujyujj @misswynters @cosmosnkaz @sithapprentice @kaniromi @lovemesomevesey @its-jackie-bb @thorins-queen-of-erebor @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn @callsignwidow @a1lexh-blog @alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867 @helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[nuninho2000]

Harry is such an under-appreciated character, which is somewhat ridiculous given that not only is he the protagonist but he’s a well-written and multi-faceted character, with a lot of nuances, a compelling backstory and great dynamics with many of the main characters. Yet parts of the HP fandom will literally hate on him for anything; today I ran across a post which blasted a twelve-year-old Harry for not financially supporting the Weasley, ignoring the fact that, you know, he’s twelve and the fact that the Weasleys would in no way ever accept Harry’s money.

Harry overcomes a lot throughout his life, and this is even before the whole Chosen One crap was placed on his very young shoulders. For the first eleven years of his life, Harry literally never experienced love, support, affection or even proper care. He was often neglected, at times outright abused by the Dursleys, and I think these years and these circumstances shaped Harry more than the fandom tends to recognise. A lot of his stubbornness and refusal to seek help from adults would have stemmed from this, as he spent eleven years believing that adults couldn’t or wouldn’t help him. His generosity and caring nature also probably stems from this, having experienced neither in early years of his life, he has a desire to share both.

Harry also has a deep aversion to fighting and negativity, and unlike Ron and Hermione, he derives no pleasure from arguing or fighting. He gets genuinely upset whenever Ron and Hermione take their verbal sparring too far, often snapping at them and telling them to let it go. Harry spent so many years in a volatile environment, so many years where a single wrong word or look could produce an explosion, that his natural instinct is to avoid conflict and arguments, which is somewhat ironic given the argumentative natures of both of his best friends.

Harry is a character who doesn’t change much over the series. This isn’t to say that he doesn’t grow or evolve as a character. He definitely undertakes his own journey, and goes from an isolated and insecure young boy into a strong and heroic young adult. But who he is at his core never really changes. He holds onto his goodness, his self-righteousness and his “saving people” attitude until the very end. If you look at his characterisation in the first novel compared to his characterisation in the last novel, it is remarkably similar. He is still a person who will walk into certain death to save others, still a person who believes in bravery and doing the right thing, and even if his faith in those around him has been tested and stretched – and in some cases broken – his general belief in the good in the world prevails.

Harry is such a genuinely good person, like, there are few characters out there who contain as much goodness and forgiveness as Harry does. He is always genuinely outraged and upset at what he perceives to be wrongdoings, such as Snape’s unfairness and favouritism or Umbridge’s reign of terror. He also refuses to kowtow to authority if he believes they are in the wrong, such as when both Fudge and Scrimgeour try to sway him to their sides. Harry’s genuine goodness and belief in what is right, in what is fair is one of his defining character traits, and it amazes me that a lot of the fandom does not seem to see or acknowledge this side of him.

I have always found Harry to be quite an isolated character, and I believe that this too stems from his upbringing and his life with the Dursleys. Growing up in an environment where he received no support, where he had no friends and no family members who paid attention to him turned Harry into a very self-sufficient and solitary person, and if you look closely at his inter-personal relationships, it becomes apparent that all of his close relationships are with people who are also isolated and/or lonely in their own way.

Ron and Harry bond almost instantly when the two meet on the Hogwarts Express, both delighted to make one another’s acquaintance. Despite his large family, Ron is also a solitary person, not being particularly close to any of his siblings and often feeling fierce competition with them. Harry not having had a single friend before in his life is keen to make one, but even at this young age can distinguish between a genuine offer of friendship (Ron) and a friendship which may come with strings attached or an inequality within the dynamic (Malfoy).

Despite Ron’s occasional jealousy (which is nowhere near as fierce or as prevalent as parts of the fandom would have you believe) Ron and Harry’s friendship is an equal partnership, mirroring that of James and Sirius. Both Ron and Harry have a penchant for trouble making, and Ron does occasionally come across as somewhat callous and cruel, but both have a deep desire to do good and believe in bravery and heroics, all of which bonds them and cements their friendship. I think they recognise the loneliness and desire for close bonds in one another, and both give and take over the course of the friendship, providing one of the strongest friendships on the written page.

Harry’s friendship with Hermione is somewhat different. While again, he has bonded with someone who is quite an isolated character and he is close to Hermione and obviously cares for her deeply, his dynamic with her is neither as free or as easy as his dynamic with Ron. He and Hermione are close to one another, but they are both closer to and connect better with Ron than they do with each other, and this is evident whenever the two spend long periods of time together without Ron’s presence, such as when Harry and Ron have their falling out during GoF or when Ron leaves them during Deathly Hallows. When Harry is with Ron one-on-one it is still easy and fun, but when it is just him and Hermione, things are different, and it really does show how integral Ron is to the Trio, and how his presence balances the dynamic within the group.

Harry’s relationships with people outside of the main Trio also reflect this tendency to bond with isolated and/or lonely characters, as evidenced by his close friendship with Luna and even his romantic relationship with Ginny. Both girls are initially presented as isolated characters who gain friends over the course of the books. Luna in particular is a very lonely soul, and I think Harry’s fondness for her stems from him relating to this loneliness.

Even Harry’s relationships with the adults in his life follow the same pattern, as the four closest adult friendships he has – Sirius, Lupin, Hagrid and Dumbledore – are all with figures who are quite isolated. Sirius, of course, being incarcerated for much of his life and having lost all his friends has become an isolated figure, and his relationship with Harry seems to combine that of cool uncle and nephew with the dynamic of best friends. As much as Sirius does genuinely love and care for Harry, there is a part of him that does see Harry as a James substitute, but the same can be said for the way in which Harry views Sirius, as a surrogate parental figure, as well as someone who can provide a link to his parents.

Lupin and Hagrid both also provide this link in their own ways, Lupin more so than Hagrid, having been a Marauder and someone who was close to both James and Sirius. Harry’s relationship with Lupin feels somewhat like a mentorship which gradually moves into genuine friendship. His relationship with Hagrid, of course, is just beautiful from the start and develops into one of the deepest and most heartfelt relationship of Harry’s. Hagrid, too, is another somewhat isolated soul, spurned for his freakish size and odd attachment to dangerous creatures.

Harry’s relationship with Dumbledore really deserves its’ own meta, I feel like entire volumes could be written about the nuances, intricacies and levels of that relationship, but once more, it shows Harry bonding with someone who has had their fair share of isolation and loneliness, and who can identify with the pain and struggle Harry faces over the course of the series.

All up, Harry is just a wonderful character, rich, multi-faceted and very endearing. I have always loved Harry for his big heart, his desire to do what’s right, his stubbornness and the determination he applies to every task he undertakes. He really is a woefully under-appreciated character and I often feel that the fandom ignores him and overlooks how amazing he actually is, and that is a real pity, because they’re missing out on a great character by doing so.

it’s really interesting to me how so many people on this site can give such intelligent and in-depth analyses of every single hp character except for harry himself. too often i see him reduced to “whiny” or “emo” or the OOC film version of him, and that’s so sad to me because he’s actually really brilliant and funny and passionate and selfless and courageous beyond his years and you’ve been missing out if you don’t love harry james potter.

[fumiliar]

playing - "alchemy" by taylor swift

athlete!kento who simply does not engage in anything related to his socials. whether an edit of him lifting up his shirt goes viral, or even a viral clip of his most embarrassing play. he just doesn't care, he simply lets his PR team handle it.

athlete!kento who never envisioned his life as a professional athlete. he had always imagined his future being stuck in some mundane cubicle, doing repetitive work all his life. but now he got to live out his dreams.

athlete!kento who would always come running to you. his first thoughts will always be you. the you that supported him from the ground up, who stayed with him through injuries, who stayed with him through times where he thought he'd never come back to the sport. a state where kento would leave himself, you stayed. and that meant more to him than winning anything.

his win was well deserved. after rigorous training, day and night, he was like a robot. and it finally paid off. whereas his teammates were still huddling, celebrating. kento patted and hugged each one of them before he ran straight for the sidelines. to you. he ran as fast as his worn out legs could take him, and as he finally reached you. his arms wrapped around you, swallowing you whole. and only then, could he finally feel relief.

relief that he had won

relief that the season was finally over

and lastly, relief that you were there, through the whole way. to cheer him on.

you could feel his body physically relax, letting go. "kento, don't relax your whole body weight to me."

"i've missed you," his head snuggled to your neck. "did you see? i scored for you."

"i saw ken," you gave him a reassuring rub on the back of his head, giving it a quick peck.

"go celebrate," you pushed him to where his team was at, giving him a nod before he reluctantly walks away from you. sending you glares that held no hatred to the fact you had actually pushed him away.

and there was not a single doubt in your mind, that if he was given the chance to do this all over again, he would always run to you. again and again.

p.s let's ignore the fact that he would literally be soaked in his sweat... he'd still smell good anyways 🤷 you can imagine it as any sport...i was too lazy to get into the specifics and research.

[crossdressingdeath]

You know what the most frustrating thing about DAV criticism is at the moment? It's that I do in fact have criticisms. Quite a few, actually. It's a Bioware game, of course I have criticisms. No one I've spoken to or whose posts I've seen thinks it's perfect or above criticism. But the thing is, I—and I imagine a lot of other firmly positive blogs—know that if I share any of those criticisms, if I make posts discussing them and talk about the game's flaws, I will immediately be inundated by people using those complaints to insist that the whole game is garbage and the writing is bad and Bioware's a terrible studio who can't make good games and DAI (of all fucking games) was so much better and blah blah blah blah. I know that because it's happened every goddamn time I've made a less-than-positive post about DAV. And I don't have the energy to deal with that! The endless stream of bad faith criticism wears me down and having to constantly stop to defend a game I like when I'm trying to discuss its flaws because if I don't (and frankly half the time even if I do) people will use my posts to claim the whole game is garbage is exhausting, and fandom is supposed to be fun. So I can't discuss DAV's flaws on tumblr if I want to avoid that, and it is infuriating. I see people bitching about toxic positivity and people refusing to acknowledge the game's flaws, and I really want those people to take a second to consider: do the game's fans ignore its flaws and refuse to accept that anything about it is bad? Or have you created an environment that is so toxic that no one who likes the game wants to risk getting your attention by mentioning what's bad about it and they respond more aggressively than is warranted to even genuine critique in an attempt to ward you off? Because there will always be assholes who claim that genuine problems are Fine, Actually, Stop Being Such A Baby... but if people can't address the game's flaws in public without immediately getting dragged into five different arguments about how it is in fact ultimately a really solid game, they're not going to do it no matter how much they recognise those flaws.

[bakawomans]

What do you think about... "How to train your... Husband?"

I'm going to post some facts about Helga next time ( I finally translated them ), but now I'm here with a small meme art, featuring Helga, Malleus, Grim and Lina ( OC as MC, belongs to @kaenviii ). They all know each other and have some kind of specific relationship between them all so I couldn't ignore this fact so I made a meme based on 'How to train your dragon 3' meme scenery~

[ Pls don't take it super serious, nothing actually been like this in actual 'canon' of their relationship ]

[yavieriel]

This does not have to be a cry of desperation. You do not have to accept the 24/7 deluge of information from for-profit news agencies that want your attention. You do not have to accept despair as the only valid response to the state of the world.

Drastically restricting your news intake is one of the best things you can do for your mental health. Block out a specific amount of time that you are willing to spend on current news, say one hour a week, and mute, block, unsubscribe, etc. from any news sources that you would see passively. During that one hour a week, actively seek out news from trustworthy sources. The rest of the week, if you see something, block it.

During that hour of engagement with the news, when you see something upsetting ask yourself, can I do something concrete and finite that will meaningfully impact this situation?

Not “can I raise awareness of X” or “should I reblog content about X”. Those are not concrete or finite and 99% of the time they're really just shouting into the void pointless.

Concrete and finite means things like:

Donate to a reputable charity

Vote for a specific candidate

Volunteer with a reputable non-profit

Write to my government representatives

You may need to do some research to find out what your options are.

If you cannot find anything to do about a problem that fits these constraints, then put it in the mental box of "not my circus, not my man-eating tigers" and accept that this problem is not yours to solve.

If there is some act you could take that passes the test of 1) concrete action 2) finite 3) meaningful impact

Then ask “Do I have the resources to do this without causing myself harm?”

If yes: Do the thing. Put it on your to-do list, check it off, be at peace with yourself. You have done a Good Thing. Reward yourself in some small way.

If no: Do not harm yourself, physically, emotionally, or mentally. Be kind to yourself and acknowledge that right now you are not in a place to tackle this particular problem. That is not a failure on your part. It may be a limitation imposed by an illness and/or disability, or the fact that you are yourself a victim in some way, or simply the fact that you're not wealthy. None of these things are your fault.

Ask yourself if there are things that you can work on instead that would help you develop the resources you need to help others at some point in the future. Focus on improving your own well-being. Learn to put your own oxygen mask on first. Stop setting yourself on fire to keep others warm. Talk to a therapist about creating healthy boundaries.

Whatever choices you make, let go of the fear, the anxiety, the despair, the panic.

Your negative feelings are not improving anyone else's life. Your suffering in and of itself is not benefiting anyone through some metaphysical balance sheet of suffering. Your unhappiness is not changing the world for the better. All it is doing is keeping you paralyzed and exhausted so that you cannot do anything positive.

The only people benefiting from your despair are the ones who want you beaten down and hopeless. Don't let them control you.

And for the other 167 hours a week, ignore the news. Do the things on your to-do list, take care of your home, spend time with your loved ones, work on your hobbies. Plant that pear tree and watch the pears ripen. Get to know a local sheep farmer and go watch the sheep and learn to card and spin their wool. Talk to your neighbors. Be kind.

[revelboo]

YOU 🫵 AGAIN HAVE FORSAKENED ME

I went to Walmart and saw THIS and was like, yeah I need that 😭 THEY HAD SO MUCH TF:ONE STUFF TOO?? My bank account is crying already 😭😭

Sorry for shit quality. I was excited 😅

All the figures! 🤣 Do it, do it, do it

Everything Is Alright Pt 104

IDW Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• “Problem?” Megatron growls, tempted to reach and touch you just to antagonize Starscream, but something about the expression on the Seeker’s face is almost dangerous. Furious and desperate and barely in control. “You should be gentler with your mate,” he says instead as Starscream’s optics narrow. Remembering those ragged sounds of grief you’d made and the way they'd twisted through his spark. You're only human and he shouldn't even care, but those sounds had bothered him. Never wants to hear them again. Sliding off the berth, he towers over the Seeker, ignoring as Starscream flares his wings. “Don’t make our pet cry again or I’ll take it out on you.”

• Gritting his denta as he stands his ground, Megatron shoulders past him, unconcerned with his anger. Not seeing him as a threat. Turning when the door closes behind Megatron, he mass shifts and grabs Soundwave’s shoulder, trying to pull him away. Hissing through his denta when the communications officer loops a possessive arm around you. Refusing to let you go from where he has you in his lap. “You left,” Soundwave growls in warning and his wings droop.

• “I came back,” Starscream mutters, optics sliding to you and expression softening. Kneeling beside Soundwave and offering you his hand. Asking you to come to him willingly. And you're not sure that you want to. Soundwave stayed and he didn't. “I’ll always come back for you.” But he still left you. Again. “Please?” That raspy whisper does you in and you reach for him, let him pull you to him and wrap his arms around you.

• “You keep hurting me,” you whisper and Soundwave’s spark constricts, hearing the unspoken ‘and I keep letting you.’ Knows you love the Seeker and he hates that fact right now. Hates Starscream as the Seeker rests his chin on top of your head, optics shuttering. Because he’s not sure the other mech understands how badly his rejection and denials hurt you. That alone convincing him that he needs Megatron tied to you. Someone that can force Starscream to be better. Because he won’t allow him to hurt you again. He can't. You'll forgive him in time. Realize that this was the only way. That it was all for you, to protect you.

• Grinding his denta at the pain in your voice and that you don’t sound surprised, like you expected him to hurt you. And that hurts him spark deep. Don’t you understand how much you mean to him? That you’re home and now a future? That you're the only spot of warmth and happiness in his life? Wings flicking as he tries to ignore Soundwave watching and listening, he tips your chin up and brushes his mouth against the corner of yours, nudging your forehead with his helm. "I was afraid," he admits, lips brushing yours, hating saying it out loud. Owning up to the fear and insecurity. Little, soft hands touch his face as you brush a kiss against him.

• "You think I'm not?" Because you're terrified and the one person who should have been there, ran away. Again. Really, you're the one in the dark here. Sparklings? You have no idea how this is going to work. Because the thought of actually birthing something like him, metal not soft flesh like you? There are so many questions, but you're half afraid if you ask them, he'll panic and bolt again. He's already so fidgety and uncomfortable. But he still loops his arm around you, holding you close. And you want to believe that he won't abandon you again, but you're not sure that you can anymore. Once is an accident, but twice?

Previous

Next

[gothicfied]

Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots, drug use/heroin use (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Walking down these strangely colorful stairs, with the equally strange backgroud music being the only thing that filled the silence between all the surviving players, made you feel like throwing up. You just witnessed people literally die right in front of you, shot for the smallest movement. If it wasn't for the adrenalin pumping throughout your body, you sure as hell wouldn't have survived either.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jolt. "Woah," Player 124, according to his jacket, stopped in his tracks when you did, too, holding up his hands in a defensive manner, "sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." While you just looked at him annoyed, a grin started to form on his lips: "What? Just wanted to know if you're okay. You scared or something?"

જ⁀➴ From then on Nam-gyu refused to leave you alone, constantly teasing you about your, very valid, fear and distress. No insults, no nothing made him stop - no - the purple haired junkie egged him on. After some time you just started to ignore him, or at least tried to. For whatever reason, Nam-gyu was very touchy with everybody, but especially you. He dragged, grabbed and shook you by your shoulders like a ragdoll when talking to you, sometimes weirdly rubbing over your back in an almost comforting way.

જ⁀➴ He'd purposefully walk past your bed to hush a quick "Good night." before lights out, often times observing you in the golden light of the piggy bank that was the only dim light source at night. Seeing you struggle to find some rest made him chuckle to himself, knowing that he had the same problem, too.

જ⁀➴ Before the first voting, he'd grab you by your arm, trying to charm you into voting in favor of the games. It was almost like he was able to sense that you wanted to quit, but it should've been blatantly obvious. Only someone with a death wish would want to continue this. Maybe he had one, after all. Once, you noticed from afar how he was nagging Thanos to give him one of those colored pills, drugs, pushing the sleeve of his right arm up to reveal the inside of his elbow. From your distance, you couldn't quite make out what he was showing him, but you assumed it were heroin marks. Well, now you kinda felt bad for him.

જ⁀➴ You weren't quite sure what to think of him. Nam-gyu would often bite around his fingernails, tug his sleeves over his hands, since this place was deathly cold sometimes, and stress over many things you also stressed about. Noticing you two weren't all that different after all, you warmed up to the idea of interacting with him.

જ⁀➴ Obviously, it couldn't all go the way you wanted it to. Not being affiliated with anyone around here proved itself to be a much greater problem during the mingle.

As soon as the spinning platform everyone tried to balance themselves on stopped along the music, the female announced the number: "Ten!". Immediately players started to scramble and hurry to find themselves a group, a group of men almost running you over. Fear, stress, anxiety, dread - You felt all of it at once. The clock was ticking down and all you could is stand there and look around you, already accepting your fate. But, apparently, the universe said no: A hand quickly grabbed you by your arm, forcefully pulling you with them. You were slammed against the wall of one of the small rooms as the door shut behind you, the timer reaching zero almost directly after. "What the fuck were you thinking? Seriously? Why did you just stand there?" it was Nam-gyu who was yelling at you, keeping you pinned against the wall by your shoulders. "Do you wanna get yourself killed?" You stared up at him, with a kind of offended expression, and he just stared back. In fact, all other eight players were staring at you two. Noticing the deafening silence, Nam-gyu turned his head around to Thanos, who just raised an eyebrow. "What? We need more people to vote 'O' anyway."

જ⁀➴ You felt like you owed him something now. Picking away at some of the kimbap you couldn't bring your to eat anymore, you scanned the dorm area for Nam-gyu. He was surprisingly alone for a moment, Thanos being off to bother someone else with whatever problem he came up with now.

Hesitantly, you took quick steps towards Nam-gyu's bed, coming to a halt right in front of it. He saved your life, the least you could do was give him some of your food that was being handed out to you players pretty sparsely. Feeling your presence behind him, he tucked a few strands of his hair behind his ears, not even needing to turn around to know it was you. "What is it?" Perhaps he was a bit embarrassed because of that moment after all. You sat down next to him on the, pretty uncomfortable mattress, handing him the rest of your food you wrapped back up in the aluminum foil. Just a quick moment of eye contact was enough for him to understand that you were really grateful for what he did back there.

જ⁀➴ If the guards wouldn't let you use the bathroom, claiming this late at night no one would be able to, Nam-gyu would be the one to come over to the door, hammering against the glass and demand that they let you in. "Come on, she's a woman," he'd exclaim, "have some decency." And when the door finally opened, you'd give him a smile. An actual, honest one.

જ⁀➴ It's as if Nam-gyu lived for that. Your smile, your small acts of gratefulness after he saved your life. You've grown on him - he'd even understand it if you'd continue to vote against resuming the games. Thinking about you being able to live your life to the fullest made him happy, even if he didn't understand that feeling quite yet.

[magister-avalon]

Initially tempted to side blog reblog but I want it here cause this is how I go about things and it's one of the main reasons I'm able to see everything as beautiful yk. Once you start, it feels impossible to go back. It's also why I can't be angry about anything for longer than a few minutes, a day tops but unlikely.

And by extension since avalon is my self insert in terms of personality, yeah, that's how she goes about maneuvering life. Never assuming malice, and if forced to assume, it's to assume ignorance. Never assuming the bad but easily assuming the good.

Y'know that saying about how if something seems too good to be true, it probably is? It's like that, but the opposite while still being true to the initial statement; if it seems too bad to be true, how can you be so sure that it's done out of malice? you probably aren't seeing the whole picture, and gotta rotate it in your mind like I do with mirael.

Avalon can sleep soundly at night cause she doesn't inherently view things as malicious in nature. She even sees berial as a cat and attempts to pet them when they aren't expecting it (even though they always expect it cause it happens so often)

The hypogeans, the war, and just everything that's caused loss, while it makes her sad, she looks for a way to see things in a way that isn't malicious. She assumes both sides had their reasons and were valid for it and there was no other way. The results are depressing but she finds happiness in the fact that everyone on both sides gave their all for what they believed in even if she didn't agree.

“no one’s ever mad at me unless they tell me so” is the best assumption i’ve ever made

[arcanarix]

f!sorcerer reader, dubcon, stalking, possessiveness, harassment (there will be a non sorcerer reader version)

bully!satosugu aren’t your average bullies. they aren’t bogged down each time you ignore their attempts at getting under your skin. they know you’re smart and know better… but so are they and they do too. and maybe they’re less interested in breaking you down more than simply getting to know you :)

(but they need to understand you aren’t your average target. you can and will stand up for yourself. you don’t show much interest in general and that just baffles them.)

bully!satosugu…who aren’t the kind to dominate the small world of jujutsu tech one because there’s no reason for that or anything to gain from it either but they are instead viewed as just two boys sharing the same brain cell. shoko and utahime tell you not to pay them any mind; they’re just two dumbasses with an overinflated sense of importance being speshul grades. nanami even reiterates the fact. plus they annoy everyone, so it’s not like you’re a special case here.

bully!satosugu who get all up in your space and in your business, ignoring your protests when they snatch your books and notes out of your hands and lap and geto’s scooping you into his strong hold instead.

“why’s a grade 3 sorcerer wasting her time? trust me, we have better things in mind for a pretty thing like you,” geto purrs.

“and besides, what use is a grade 3 in the field when the two strongest can just take care of everything? hmmmm?” gojo taunts while fiddling with a stray strand of your hair.

instead of seeming intimidated, you’re just annoyed that your work has been disrupted. you don’t give them an outward reaction, just a deadpan, “if you don’t let me go i’ll use my curse technique to castrate the two of you.”

that seems to work for now!

bully!satosugu who���for some reason hover over you like they’re your bodyguards yet you treat them as if they’re not there the entire time. even if gojo can usually annoy someone to the point of tears, you don’t react, instead you’re able to completely tune him AND geto out.

how… Unnerving! Perplexing?

bully!satosugu who HATE to see you divert your attention to anyone else be it nanami or haibara or even shoko and utahime. something sets them off when you giggle a little too hard at some off hand deadpan remark nanami makes, you keep making eyes at him like you like him and not them. what’s up with that? and then they see nanami resting his hand on your thigh……….

and shooting a glare their way, as if to ward them off of you or else? wha?

bully!satosugu who aren’t keen on the idea of you trying to have a life outside of them (you never wanted a life with them from the start, but you digress) so they corner you in one of the empty lecture halls. you tell them you don’t know what they mean. in fact you insist, because you really don’t understand (or really care either). you have no regard for them, but they seem to hold so much interest in you and they don’t like that you don’t appreciate their attention so you had to get it instead from fucking NANAMI.

setting your book on your lap, you meet their accusatory gazes with disinterest.

“i don’t have to entertain any of this,” you remark, “i’m not interested in engaging in something like this when we’re in an environment where we’re forced to coexist. i will acknowledge you as my peers but nothing more.”

thinking you have the last word, you get up and brush past them, but geto grabs your wrist and twists you around. you grunt.

“maybe we have to show her why she should want us by her side, satoru,” he suggests in a low, dangerous tone.

“will she actually learn this time, though?”

“oh, it doesn’t matter. we can always repeat the lesson until she understands,” geto yanks you toward him until your back hits his front, your breath hitching as you feel a growing erection through his baggy uniform.

“you both might find better payoff deepthroating each other,” you scoff.

geto’s nostrils flare at that.

“such a foul mouth,” he snarls, "better watch that tone with us."

“yeah,” satoru pitches in, inching closer with a little smirk. “maybe we ought to plug it up.”

TBC???

[contamination-zone]

nother fic yayyy

contains: platonic fresh and nightmare. Cuddling. Joint pain [for fresh :<] ~1,000 words

He was back, smarmy grin on his face and eyewateringly bright outfit everywhere else. It contrasted heavily with the deep well of suffering emanating from “his” SOUL.

An oxymoron; the only way Nightmare could describe it. 

Still, negativity was negativity, no matter how… colorful the package was. 

“Exited to see lil old me bro?”

“Hardly.”

It laughed, the noises all bright neons in the air. Enthusiasm mixing with cruelty. It wasn’t as cheery as usual.

“Lierrrr!” 

Within barely a second it was closer than he’d usually let anyone, crowding into his space and almost looming. Terribly reminded of a  cat greeting its owner, Nightmare didn’t think to refute  it.

It seemed one of them was thinking of his answer though, Fresh letting out a victorious crow when he didn’t immediately snarl an insult.

“You did, didn’t ya? We love ta’ see bonds between bros, bro!” 

As if it wasn’t close enough, it pressed against his side. He let it, the negativity pouring out more than worth it. 

“I would hesitate to call what we have a ‘bond.’” He finally answered it, disinterest weaved carefully through his voice. 

“Whatever you say,” Fresh snickered, face leaning down to rest on his shoulder. It seemed in a particularly clingy mood today, though that seemed like everyday, lately.

Hyper aware of its movements, Nightmare couldn’t help but notice something was a bit off. A certain stiffness the parasite didn’t normally have, teeth a hint too straight and claws blunt.

It pressed further into him, barley not sinking into his negativity, almost nervous… 

“Bad day?”

It startled, clearly displeased, and ignored his question entirely. Expected, exposing weakness to Nightmare wasn’t usually in anybody’s best interest. “Nah, my day’s been totes tubular. We don’t needa talk about me anyway. You got any cool plans, bro?”

“Work. In fact, I’d prefer to be alone for it.” He wasn’t going to let it play hard to get.

“…”

“If you require my presence,” he hummed in a way he knew made him sound like an asshole, “you can always inform me.”

He started walking, pace leisurely as he made his way to his office. It fell instep right behind him, silent, considering.

“C’mon, you always like a bro to help ya’ think things through, don’cba boss?”

“I’m not so incompetent as to require that.”

It huffed, clearly displeased.

He made it to his office with the parasite on his heels, and made quick work of gathering some of the most pressing paperwork. It continued prattling off behind him.

“Don’t harsh the paperwork vibe by kicking me out, octo-bro. Sure hanging out would help with that pro-duct-tality”

It grumbled and huffed, trying to annoy a reaction out of him. Cute.

“If it’s only entertainment you want, you can always bother other inhabitants of this castle, parasite.”

That actually got a growl out of it.

With a quick motion he also grabbed few pens and a stamp before he turned on his heel and walked right back out of his office.

Fresh didn’t seem to notice how far off his normal schedule he was acting, pressing close once more. It was so tempting to push it off.

“Are you saying you can’t, broski? The top dog of negativity, unable to amuse a simple lil’ dude?”

“You’re nearly 7 feet tall.”

“Yeah man! Just a little guy!” It grinned.

He let out an amused huff despite himself, finally arriving at their destination.

He fished the key to his room out of his pocket and made quick work of making his way in, one of his tentacles aground Fresh’s wrist pulling it after him.

The fact that this was when it finally noticed he wasn’t doing his normal paperwork routine was a testament to how out of it it must have been. It let out a little click at the back of its throat, confused.

“What’s with this?” A moment later.

Nightmare pulled it further into his room, “didn’t you say you’d prefer to ‘hang out’?”

A slight tug, more a test to see if he’d let go than an earnest attempt to shake his grip. He didn’t let go.

“Preev hang-outs weren’t like this, bro-tato.”

He ignored its words. Sticking out a tentacle easily tripped it, making it land on his plush bed with a thump.

He followed at his own pace, getting all his equipment set up  on his nightstand as Fresh rolled into its side to look at him. It’s voice was squeaky, “Again! What is the deal bro?! I am not the type of guy you bring to your crib. I don’t even do this typa’ thing!”

He rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable. “You misunderstand me if you think  I’m trying to bed you. You merely seem under the weather.”

It grumbled, its brows furrowing and teeth baring. Before it could start spouting some bullshit about being in ‘tip-top shape,’ he reached over and settled its head on his lap, hands moving to massage at its neck vertebrae. 

It’s mouth let out a squeaky breath of air instead of a retort, and he chuckled. His tentacles reached down to wrap around its joints, and the way it went limp at his cold ministrations let him know he’d been right: joint pain.

It whines, “This is so un-radical bro…”

“Is it?” He grabbed his clipboard and started doing paperwork, letting his tentacles slowly wrap further around the other skeleton. The little shudders it let out only made him tighten his grip.

A little rumbly purr started up, and which seemed to disquiet Fresh even further. 

“Un-radical…” it repeated.

“Of course,” he looked down at it, face a bit flushed and purring like a motor, “‘Un-radical.”

“It was just a bad switch, it’ll pass.” It grumbled, “You really don’t need to do all… this stuff for it.” 

Information; he tried not to look like he was paying more attention. He let out an acknowledging noise.

“You listening? Just said you didn’t need to do this.”

“And if I want to?” Was out before he could think.

It stiffened the same time as him. This wasn’t what their relationship was supposed to be like.

They were both using the other: Fresh for protection and Nightmare for a free meal. It was comforting, expected. I they could always count on the other acting in their own self interest.

“Because… more contact more negativity, yeah?”

“Yes.” No.

It relaxed, taking that instead of the possibility of him caring, “whatever. I guess I’ll stay for your sa-“

He retracted most of his tentacles, making it whine. 

“Fine fine! I’ll stay for my sake.”

“Good boy.” He continued his ministrations, feeling it relax back into him a moment later. Pretenses dropped, it didn’t hesitate to push as far into his space as it could get. A bit too close for him to do his paper-work with maximum productivity but he couldn’t say he minded too much.

[unknown-cold]

Omg that's true!!

I'm so tired of these people saying Vi and Caitlyn's relationship is toxic, I mean literally the same thing she said Jinx and her relationship with Ekko wasn't good either and Jayce and Viktor too.

It is natural for problems and disagreements to occur in relationships, but it is not natural to think that a relationship will be peaceful and good all the time. These things only exist in Disney movies.

But apart from all that. Seriously guys hating on Vi or Caitlyn or both is way over the top. Like let's just imagine JUST IMAGINE, if Vi were male, the narrative surrounding her actions and character would change dramatically. She would likely be hailed as a "brother hero," a model of loyalty and kindness despite impossible circumstances. Her trauma, in prison, losing Vander, failing to save Jinx, and so on, would be sympathized with as a testament to her strength and determination.

Her status as the “bad sister” is undoubtedly tied to gender expectations. Women, especially older sisters, are often burdened with the role of caregiver, and are expected to be endlessly compassionate and self-sacrificing. Vi’s moments of anger, guilt, and mistakes, however, conflict with societal stereotypes of women as the natural “fixers” of emotional and familial conflicts. The fact that Vi is pigeonholed as the “bad sister” while Jinx is often seen as the tragic victim reflects deeper gender biases. Vi’s traumas and emotional wounds are ignored or minimized because she is expected to be the “strong one,” while Jinx is given sympathy and a more nuanced lens because her messiness and vulnerability fit into certain stereotypes of women who are broken or in need of saving.

It’s a frustrating double standard, and it underscores just how progressive Arcane is by refusing to fully give into those tropes. Vi’s character still shines as someone strong, flawed, and deeply human, but the criticisms she faces highlight how society treats female characters with such biases.

The misogyny is REAL and don’t think for a second that other women aren’t fully participating in that also. The amount of shit Vi gets for temporarily joining the Enforcers with Caitlyn to stop Jinx is insane. A male Vi would have been seen as a TORTURED HERO for joining up with the EVIL FORCES that took his parents away all so he could do HERO THINGS. But Vi does it? “Wah wah she joined the COPS she’s A TRAITOR THE REAL VI WOULD NEVER”. Like. Watch the show, my friends, and you will see she did what she thought was best and it was a very complex and very emotional decision for her; she hated every second of that uniform. But no, people shit on Vi and then complain like any of them could write a better show. Ugh.

And nobody would have hated a male Vi for having his love scene. Nobody. In fact, it would have been EXPECTED, but because Vi’s a woman, and a lesbian expressing her big gay love for her gorgeous gay lover, some people refuse to see her humanity and her growth as a person in that moment. I'm so tired

And the argument that we hate them because they did bad things is not true, I have seen people hate Caitlyn just because she is lesbian and one of them said if she was a straight woman I would have accepted her character on the show. Seriously this is someone who takes his criticism seriously, he forgot the story and everything in the show and focused on whether the characters are gay or straight or worse when I saw a comment from someone saying why are the main characters on the show female characters? Like is this an idiot or is he drug or what exactly? I think we should also ask, why do men always take the lead roles and when they are evil they are better, and if they are good they are also better, but if a woman comes along who is evil or wants to be evil or does just one mistake everyone hates her and she is the worst person in the world, but men are the only ones who deserve to play the role of evil and do bad things and we will sympathize with them and love them. THIS IS CRAZY!!

To understand what I'm saying more, compare Viktor's character and Caitlyn's character and you will see that Caitlyn was the character who was criticized the most even though she didn't kill anyone innocent and in the end she tried to fix things, while Viktor tried to kill all the people of Piltover and Zaun and didn't care about anyone, even his friend's pleas, he didn't care about them and Viktor thought that this was the solution but to end the conflicts between the two cities. But is there anyone who criticizes this, is there anyone who says that this is a bad act, of course not, yes you will see some people justifying it, as they did with Silco, the person who killed an entire family for control and drowned all of Zaun with shimmer and made the children work in dangerous factories, and there is not a single criticism, and people defend him even after Jinx's condition worsened, no they say that he is better than Caitlyn, my god like what the fuck!?

Then they tell you we don't hate women we don't hate gays or lesbians, just shut the fuck up, everything is clear, Arcane revealed to us that there are still people who are fanatic and traditional to the extreme who still want to see a man as the hero of the story and that all people and women should respect him even if he is evil and cruel he is always better than this bullshit, Arcane proved to us that it is possible for both sexes to appear in an excellent, strong and realistic way without insulting or belittling the other because these things are not useful and will not help in telling the story in any way.

Quick note I don't hate Jinx or Viktor and many of you who follow me know that I love Viktor very much but I will not deny the bad things he did and I am also really tired of the hypocrisy of some people and their constant criticism of other characters and characters. Just bc they say like these characters

Like I don't like Silco but have you ever seen me post every day criticizing Silco and Silco fans all the time or go to Silco fans and tell them if you like Silco then you support child labor and the drug trade and blah blah. Like they do with Caitlyn fans when one of them says he likes Caitlyn they accuse him of supporting collective punishment and corrupt governments and police brutality just because he likes a fictional character. I've never seen such stupidity and backwardness and bullshit in my life, just because I like a fictional character you think I will act like her in real life?? These people need to grow up seriously or find a job

[syverse]

i depend on you // ft. katsuki bakugou

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

bakugou can't bring himself to hate you, even after you left

warnings&a/n: if this is bad LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!!! got suddenly verrrry inspired by that one drawing on tiktok and maybe i misinterpreted it in the writing but shoot me who cares. this is like my first time writing something and actually finishing it i get so discouraged and give up. if you hate this i will never do this again.

In his life, there's a lot of things that Bakugou hates. He hates simple and unavoidable things like the rain, and he hates specific things like people who rely on everybody around them. He hates weak people, hates getting up too early in the morning, hates being too involved in other people's lives if he doesn’t necessarily have to be. But, as he sits alone at his desk, forced to listen to the obnoxious and overbearing sounds of society in Tokyo despite how late it is, Bakugo can’t think of anything he hates more than you. 

He spent a lot of his life loving you. He loved things like your unwavering conviction to do the right thing, he loved the look in your eyes when you stole glances from each other during class dinner back when you were both in highschool, and loved the way you whispered his name like a prayer when it was just the two of you under the covers of your shared bed. It was hard at first, but as the two of you grew together, so did his love. He learned to love through the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your gentle hands intertwining with his. Nimble fingers pressing into the palms of his hands before flipping them over and placing feather-like kisses on his fingerprints, he tries to swallow the bile that claws its path up his throat.  

Along with the symphony of nightlife outside of his agency, he can also pick out the faint sound of a news reporter being broadcasted on a billboard next to his building. Pictures of your face are shown on the large screen, along with the headline “PRO HERO TURNED VILLAIN” and Bakugou holds his breath for as long as he can. His phone lay flat on his desk in front of him, buzzing every few seconds from concerned friends and family members, but the blonde doesn’t dare to touch it. It had been at least a week since your departure from his agency, and the news had spread to all of Japan at this point, but the news and media were still eating it alive as if they were starving. 

Bakugou’s eyes glue shut as he wishes for memories of you to disappear, and for the heavy dread in his gut to fizz up and die out. He curses himself for not picking up on it sooner, the fact that you would leave. Looking back on it, he’s pretty sure he could put his finger on the exact moment when you started to fade away. When the universe in your eyes started to blur each time you looked at him, when the sense behind your touch became hesitant instead of gentle, and when your cheeks no longer touched your eyes when you smiled. He should’ve said something. Should’ve done a lot of things to at least delay your disappearance, but Bakugo was familiar with the fact that he was never good with words, and the fact that his heart was bottomless with fear of him making it worse. 

Bakugou absolutely hates you for leaving him here. He hates that he can’t throw every single I love you that came out of his mouth into a little box and set it to ashes, hates that he has to go back to home and still smell you on his bedsheets, hates that even though you’ve made it clear that you’re never coming back, he still patiently waits with bated breath to hear you whisper his name again.  So, as Katsuki picks himself off of his desk and drags himself to the elevator to return back his house, his house where you don't live anymore, he tries to convince himself to forget you, and ignores the way his tongue instinctively traces the letters of your name on the roof of his mouth.

[bonniepop]

“hey.”

you swivel your head, hair fanning around you. atsumu is standing to the entrance of the sparring grounds in just his shirt and trousers, and your mind betrays you by acknowledging his handsomeness. your face falls into a familiar scowl. “what do you want?”

he nods at the sabre as he walks closer, ignoring your animosity. “done with practice?”

“all my students refused to spar me,” you grumble, wiping at the sweat on your brow with the back of your hand. “cowards.”

“i’ll spar you,” he says then, eyes flitting to you.

your eyebrow hitches up. “you’re joking.”

“i may not be as good as my wife,” he says, moseying over to the sword rack. “but i can handle myself.”

you watch as he picks something relatively pliable, similar to the one you held in your hand. the word wife makes you bristle, and your nerves light up. “and if i kick your ass?”

he pauses briefly, and says, almost solemnly, “then i’ll deserve it.”

your eyes follow him as he walks to the center of the empty training arena. you walk, taking tentative steps closer until you were a duel’s distance away. brandishing your sword, you get into position, and atsumu mirrors you.

“widen your stance,” you tell him, and he looks down to adjust. you ensure that the next thing he sees is you charging at him.

there’s an unreasonable anger within you as he fluidly parries your attacks, because he’s a prince, of course he was trained in swordfighting, but the fact that this wouldn’t be an easy victory ticked you off.

he deserved to have his ass kicked.

he’s quick on his feet and has a long reach, so you find yourself dodging a few swings, but the second you see him flick his wrist in a move that looked like a retreat, you’re incensed. “are you going easy on me?”

you dart down and swing your leg, catching his ankles. he yelps as he falls, but he manages to roll away and get back up. you cry out, opting to hurl your sword at him.

he dodges, but it’s by crouching low, and you ram yourself at his torso. your shoulder hits his rib and he lets out a pained huff, but you make quick work of disarming him, sliding his sword in your grip as you push him unto his back and straddle his sides. you point the tip of the blade at his neck as the dust settles around you.

his brings his hands up to surrender. “okay, okay, i give up,” he breathes, a thin sheen of sweat shining on his forehead. “you win.” your chest heaves in time with his, and you lean back and toss the sword to the side.

when you get up, he pushes himself up by his elbows. “for the record,” he croaks as he cradles his side, “i didn’t let you win.” 

“you withdrew your blade,” you point out, collecting the fallen swords and putting them back.

“you were going so fast i didn't even know what i was doing,” his face crumples in effort as he stands up. “holy shit, you kicked my ass.”

“yeah, well,” you say, sheathing the sword so roughly that the rack rattles. “i’m mad.”

“i know,” he says, hobbling over to you. “look, i’m—”

“save it,” you say, raising your hand before walking away. “i’m not interested whatever you have to say.”

you can hear atsumu hobble after you. “i know, but—i’m sorry. i just... i’m sorry, okay? i fucked up.”

“yes." you don’t want to hear it, you just want to go and leave and hide somewhere you won't see his face, but your feet slow in their tracks.  "you did.”

“but i didn't do it."

you turn to him slowly and look at him straight in the eye. "didn't do what?"

"i didn't sleep with her," atsumu admits, coming closer. “i lied.”

your temper flares to an alarming degree that you force yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath. it calms you none. “why?” you demand when you open your eyes to glare at him. “we were doing so well, atsumu. we were finally making this farce of a marriage work, and then you go and—”

“because,” he interrupts angrily, “i want this to be a real marriage.”

the answer takes you by surprise, and the rest of your retaliation dies in your throat.

“when this first started out, i wasn’t under any illusion that this marriage would actually turn into the real thing,” he says, visibly annoyed. “you didn’t want me—hell, you didn’t even like me! you’ve made that very, very clear, and i got the picture. i was willing to just be the husband who didn't give a shit about his wife, just like damn near every fucker in this kingdom, but then i got to know you, and i—” it's as if his rising frustration hit a ceiling and evaporated into smoke. he sighs, defeated. “i wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

you huff. “why?”

“because—" he hesitates, "because after the banquet—"

your memory flashes quickly. the gentle of his hand on your lower back, the heat of his breath near your ear. it was pretend, you kept telling yourself that night, pretending that things were not the way they were, the agreement you'd both discussed that whatever ire had wedged itself between you two be forgotten in the face of neighboring kingdoms.

"—i wanted to know if things had changed.” his eyes meet yours. "that by any chance, that the—" he stops himself, but your memories are faster.

the feel of his lips, softer than you thought they'd be, warmer than they had any right to be, against the back of your hand, against your cheek, against your mouth. fast, fleeting.

wanting.

his eyes meet yours, as if hearing your memory. “if what we have has a chance at the real thing.”

your chest flares with warmth, but then a sharpness takes over when the night plays further in your head. him pulling away, flirting with another woman in plain sight; him, flashing you the most antagonistic sneer you've seen on his face as the ballroom thins and he escapes with a woman, making sure you've seen.

he hurt you then.

“you betrayed my trust,” you say, trying to control your voice, but it croaks pathetically. it’s a feeble excuse, even to you.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters sincerely, coming closer. “i'm sorry, i truly am. trust me. i—” he huffs, “i miss you.”

your throat tightens and you sniff.

“getting to know you," he continues, "even when you were a nightmare, was—was fun. sneaking around and playing games and making fun of people was fun. i actually… i grew to like you, because you’re not as bad as i thought you were, and at this point i’m hoping that you don’t think i was as bad as the asshole i made myself out to be in the beginning, and at the banquet. and i—” he swallows, “i’m hoping that, now that you know me… that this could be... that things could be different."

he groans and looks up at the ceiling. “god. what is happening to me.”

it’s such a juvenile reaction that it makes your lip twitch. “do you even know what you’re asking?” you ask, trying to school your expression. “what makes you think this will work?”

he tips his chin down to look at you. “we’ve survived this long, right?” he asks, coming closer. “what’s another eternity? besides,” he reaches forward to brush your hair back. “you’re not so bad.” 

you sniffle and he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closing. “i’m really sorry,” he whispers. “please forgive me.”

you swallow, wanting to respond with so many things, but instead, you say, “you’re not so bad either.” 

he pulls back in surprise, and the smile that takes over his face is blindingly bright.