#In fairness it doesn't hurt the throat as much as the other kind

[dmcoffee]

Every day, I am slowly just becoming a weird amalgamation of my maternal Grandpa and my dad. I...do not know how to feel about that.

[stevieschrodinger]

So what if like the thing that makes Alpha and Omega pairs, true mates or whatever, is like a detectable thing that they can test for. And like, everyone has their little blood test at birth and then on say, their 18th birthday, the Alpha gets informed as to who their omega is.

Obviously it's a bit of a sexist deal and lots of Omega and their supporters are trying to get it changed so that both parties are informed, to make it fair, and that is getting some traction but right now, the Alpha gets told and the Omega has to wait for them to show up.

Except when Eddie, fucking excited as all hell to meet his Omega finally, opens his envelope to find Steve Harrington's name starring back at him and Eddie just. He just can't. Steve's one of the biggest bitches at Hawkins high. And even if Eddie can, sort of, get past that, Steve's a snob. He lives in a fucking mansion and has a nice car and preppy clothes and yeah...Eddie is going to get rejected stone cold and that would be fair because he doesn't have a single thing to offer and Omega like Harrington.

Eddie burns the envelope.

And yeah, he can't help but watch Steve a little more now that he like, Knows, but he does his best to put it behind him.

And Steve gets into a fight with Nancy wheelers new Omega, when Nancy gets her envelope, and it's not Steve's name inside and it looks like Jonathan came out on top and Steve...well, he looks beaten and sad and that nearly makes Eddie cave but...no. no.

Right up until he has Steve under his hands, pinned to a boathouse wall with a bottle to his throat and Eddie's been thinking of Steve has his Omega for so long it just kind of slips out. Eddie whispers it, 'Omega' and the bottle drops to the floor and shatters more.

And Eddie has to watch it play out from close range on Steve's face, dawning realisation. Deep hurt. And then anger. An angry shield that comes down as he pushes Eddie off.

"Dustin explain to Munson what's up, I'll be outside a minute.". And Steve just stomps out and there's fuck all Eddie can do about it.

And then he kinda gets distracted by hell dimension stuff. For a bit. And Steve's clearly fucking angry with him and Eddie, well, what the fuck is Steve expecting Eddie to do, right? Steve would never have wanted him in the first place. So Eddie is fucking angry. And it comes out spiteful, calling Steve 'big boy' like he knows it'll rile Steve up. Throwing his jacket at Steve so he will cover up, because he can't bare to look at all the skin Steve is showing, especially with fucking Wheeler hanging around. And if it got something of Eddie's on Steve, well then, it doesn't fucking matter does it? Doesn't mean anything.

And it's not until it's all done, and Eddie wakes up fucking high as a kite on pain meds, with non other than Harrington sitting by his bedside that it all slips out, "what are you doing here?"

Steve shrugs, won't look at him, "waiting to see if my Alpha dies, I guess."

And he just sounds so...bereft. so broken.

"Steve, I just...look-"

"Doesn't matter. You've made it clear. It's fine. And you're going to live I guess so I'll just-" and he's standing, turning to leave.

And Eddie knows Steve now. Sees him with the sheep. Knows he isn't a bitch. Knows he's just...a good guy. Knows he isn't any of the things Eddie thought he was.

"You grew up in a fucking castle." Steve pauses, sitting back in the chair to frown at Eddie.

"What has that go to do with-"

Eddie clears his throat, it's dry and scratchy and hurts but he has to do this. "You grew up in a castle. Nice car. Both parents. Preppy clothes, fucking, shitty fucking jock friends. Steve, you would have rejected me in a heartbeat. I live in a fucking trailer and sling drugs on the side I'm not- I couldn't do that to you."

And Steve just, he just starts crying. He nods, wipes his eyes, "I might have," he admits finally, "I don't know what I would have said...but I needed you. Since then I needed you so much and," he sniffles, wipes his pink nose .

"And I didn't know. I couldn't have and I am so sorry but could we just, now, can we just-" and it hurts like fuck but Eddie bites it down because Steve is half clambered into the bed next to him and yeah. Yeah, that's perfect.

[bitterbutblue]

our times

turns out, you're the fortune i want to keep most ☆ multi x reader

~ this is a multi x reader!! hatssun was talking about writing angst and i really said omg my turn! sorry hatssun ur idea was so good and it works so well w yukong and feixiao... ill credit u so hard bro i swear. WVERYONE BE PREPARED FOR WHEN THINK FAST DROPS🙏🙏🙏

UMM ALSO THE FEIXIAO ONE IS SOLONG FOR NO REASON LOTS OF DIALOGUE SORRYYYYY

characters: feixiao, yukong, ruan mei

 song: 小幸運 - Hebe Tian ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

i was too busy chasing shooting stars in the sky ☆ feixiao

The day Saran ran away, something in you ran with her. The day Saran ran away, you didn't know if you would ever see her face break into a smile again, or if you would see her hanging the next day. The trace of her slowly faded with time, but even when you finally had the guts to bolt for it she was still the only thing on your mind. That day, you didn't mind if you died running, because it would've been better than staying there but alive. You didn't mind if you died running, because you died with her on your mind.

God knows how many decades had passed since the Luofu took you in. You only count days in how much your heart ached for her. Eventually it dulls down, it goes from a sharp thud to a muted nudge every time you see a dash of silver hair in the crowd or a sharp but soft smile on Jing Yuan's lips. You've heard of how far she had gotten, and you wished it didn't hurt so much to hear about it. You forced yourself to forget about her, because you couldn't keep living every day haunted by her. You were finally able to live your days how you wanted to, even if it meant without her by your side.

"Yukong, can you run these by the general for me?"

You were absentmindedly sitting at your desk, filling in whatever forms the general had sent to you about all the legality things they had to sort out for the Wardance. You spin your pen, signing your name down and ticking the last of the boxes. You huffed at the lack of response from the woman who should be sitting across from you.

"Yukong?"

"She's not here."

You look up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and the world decides to take a break for a moment. In that small fraction of a second you feel yourself going back in time for decades until you are standing face to face with the young foxian, bruised and battered with an undying flame in her eyes. She is now much taller, her face pale but not the sickly kind that she harboured before. Her eyebags faded, hair flowing as if it had been just washed- a sight you never saw before in those camps.

She looked healthy, she had everything she wanted.

So why did she look like she was about to break down in front of you?

It wasn't fair.

"Saran?"

She only nods, standing with her arms by her side like a fool who doesn't know how to speak. She clears her throat, moving to cross her arms so she looked less awkward standing in front of you.

She wears clean clothes, she smells of petals.

Her scent of blood long faded, but you feel the pain behind her stance.

"How have you been?" Is all she asks as she eyes your desk warily, as if not knowing how to approach the conversation.

"Well. You?"

"Good enough."

Your old banter had long faded now, your previous ability to make each other laugh despite knowing the imminent death that looms over you two every day.

"Neergul died."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

It's like talking to a wall, or to just a mirrored version of yourself with how either of you refuse to look at each other.

"I never knew if you died or not until I came here."

Your shaky voice finally cuts the tension that has been simmering for far too long. She swallows, looking up and you know she is holding back tears because she has only ever looked up when the night sky is open and she can see the stars that granted her hope.

"I found out you became general. I was happy for you."

She says nothing.

"Why didn't you reach out?"

The edge to your voice has her breath knocked out of her lungs for a second as she tries to formulate an answer. She tries to weave incoherent thoughts and jumbles of emotions into a sentence and it's much harder to be done than she realised.

"I couldn't."

Of course she couldn't. Why would she admit to you how much of a coward she was? Knowing she had abandoned you after kissing you goodnight that evening.

"Why?"

But you want answers. It's not every day your presumed dead lover comes back to see you after years and years of crying yourself to sleep and hoping that in another future you could be in her arms without having to fear for your life.

"I was scared."

The general cannot be scared, or show any signs of fear in any situation- especially emotional situations where they need to stay calm so that people can feel secure around her but right now it all falls apart.

"Of who?"

"You."

"Why?"

You really did not like to raise your voice but you couldn't help it- she infuriates you. From the moment she flooded your heart you realised why love and hate go hand in hand because you hate that you love her.

"Why now?"

"I don't know."

Is all she manages to stutter out after an incredulous minute of silence and you just sigh.

"Why didn't you come find me?"

Her question has you going speechless now.

You were a hypocrite.

"I don't know."

She just nods with an unreadable expression on her face.

"I don't regret what I did that night."

You squeeze your now-fisted hand tight, taking a deep breath in to try to not only steady your voice but calm your racing heart that threatens to beat so hard it shatters in your chest.

"But why? Why make me love you for decades if you never planned to return?"

"I wanted to return. I always did."

Her words come out much more rushed than she intended it to come out. You feel your world shatter in that moment as you speak your next words.

"You never moved on?"

She steps closer.

"I dreamt about you every night. Under the sea of the shooting stars."

You shake your head, quickly wiping away at your own tears and she has to take a sharp breath in so her tears don't fall.

"Don't say that." You whisper "We can't. Please."

She looks at you, more intensely than ever as her voice quivers.

"Why?"

You shake your head.

"It'll only hold us back."

You still adorn matching scars from the torture you both had gone through in those camps. She is the scar on your heart, and you are the scar on hers.

"We can't." Is all you say.

She turns around and you want to pull her into your arms, you want her to be able to look at you but from that moment on, the look on her face as you ended what it was and what it could’ve been would be the face you see every night you close your eyes.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

somewhere in the sky i could not see, was you ☆ yukong

The evening Caiyi died in her arms, Yukong vowed to never see the skies again. That was the same evening you went missing, the same evening she breaks down because how can she lose two of what she loved most in her life within the blink of an eye? The reason for her to wake up every morning, the reason she smiled even through the roughest of the days- now faded into nothing but memory and a distant bitter taste in her mouth.

You were not presumed dead, only missing. The false sense of hope had Yukong staying at her desk for hours every day, going through files and files, records upon records to try and maybe find some trace of you somewhere but after years of searching she finally gave up. She had to care for Qingni for Caiyi, she had to keep loving you because if she doesn't then she feels like she's lost herself.

It was the day Qingni flew to the skies when she finally looked up once more. She looks to the planes to see her daughter flying the same path that doomed her from wanting to live but the sky was the reason she had the two people who made life worth living. It was that day a plane crashed and Yukong felt the familiar, sickening feeling from decades ago as she runs to the sight. She's panicked, flustered, heart racing and feeling like throwing up as she pushes past crowds amongst crowds-

She doesn't know if she should scream or sigh in relief when they pull the lifeless-looking figure out of the starskiff. The model was old, the same she used in the war where she lost....

You. The figure they pulled out was you and she feels like she's going to be sick. She runs up to them, asking if you're okay and the medics are telling her to back off but she needs to know. She puts her head down, ear against your chest and almost sobs when she hears your heart thud weakly. It's so soft she really could've missed it but she hears it.

"Oh baby..."

She whispers as she cradles your head on her lap.

She sits by your side in the hospital until you wake up. She doesn't move, doesn't eat or drink or anything unless Qingni drags her to the bathroom or to the cafeteria. She holds your hand weakly, squeezing it every once in a while to see if you'd respond.

A cough jolts her awake and she quickly scans the dark, dimly lit room to find you- blinking weakly as you scan the room wearily.

"Oh, oh my god."

She quickly gets off her chair, rushing by your side.

"Are you okay? How are you feeling? Nurse-"

"Yukong."

She never thought she'd hear her name fall from your lips, to hear her name mumbled out so softly and hoarsely again.

"I'm here, I'm right here."

You don't say anything as you close your eyes, taking in a deep but pained breath as you close your eyes. She can feel her hands go cold, trembling violently as she tries to calm herself down. Her fingertips feel like they've been dipped in ice water and her throat feels like its closing up violently.

"You're here."

Yukong couldn't help the sob that escapes her lips at your words.

"Yes, yes baby. I'm right here."

The tears are already falling before she can even bother trying to control them, and she can already feel herself slipping away when you smile softly at her because she had always been a fool for you. She put the whole world down for you and she would lift it up for you if you needed it to be lifted again.

"I- I came back."

"You did, you did baby, you're back." She whispers, finally moving to take your hand in hers. You feel so much smaller, your hand much rougher than it used to be and when she finally takes in how scarred you are she feels like breaking down.

"Wanted to see you..." you whisper weakly, voice shaking as you look directly into her eyes.

Your eyes were nothing like the eyes she used to look at every night before she drifted off to sleep. Now they were hollow, every trace of who you once were has faded into the past that only resides through her dreams.

You were back, but you'd never really be back.

She just squeezes your hand gently as she tells herself it's okay, telling herself that you're physically here and you were somehow still alive and that's all she's been praying for since the day you fell.

So why does it hurt so much?

If all she's ever wanted was to have you back in her arms, why does it hurt so much to have you back now? Looking at her with a smile that no longer meets your eyes and a sense of coldness washing over her like a suffocating blanket every time she sees you.

She still loves you.

She still loves you and it hurts that her lover has died, reincarnated into a broken version of who she once loved. But she doesn't care. She will learn to live with the cold if it means being able to hold you once more. She would spend as long as she needs, puzzling every piece of you back together until you are able to smile at her without the history of all that happened haunting your every waking move.

She vowed, from that moment on, she'd start looking at the sky again because the sky brought you back. Every evening she stares up at the moon, watching it dim the lights to another day, and whisper her gratefulness to have her lover back. Every evening, she brings you out to look at the moon, the same moon you looked at during the two decades apart where the only thing you had together was the moon draped in the sky that she was too scared to look at.

"I love you."

You just lean your head against her chest.

You just listen to her heartbeat, and with each thud the cracks in your body begin to renew themselves- you would never be who you were, but you would always love her.

"I love you too."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

every scene was you ☆ ruan mei

The day she left, she vanished. No note, no text, nothing. Ruan Mei had become nothing but a shadow on earth when she decided to leave your house and you questioned if it was even worth searching for her at that point.

She had always been obsessed with aeonhood, aeons, power- whatever. You knew she was. Yet you still loved her for it, and she always promised you that one day you two would be able to love each other for eternity, for as long as you wanted to and until time itself faded into nothing but what was a mere idea of the past. She held you close that evening when she promised you, your head resting on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you.

A week later, she vanishes.

Lab empty, notes packed away, it was like as if your house had gone back in time to before you met her with how empty it all was. You called her number, texted her phone, contacted everyone she knew which was not a lot but you still tried because you loved her.

The day she revealed herself as the 81st member of the genius society, you felt your entire being shatter into pieces of who it once was. That was why she left you. Ultimately, Ruan Mei was selfish, and she had always been a selfish person.

You were foolish for loving her.

But you couldn't stop.

By the time you finally encountered her again, your history had become just a speck of dust in her mind but it was still your reason for hurt. It was still the reason why getting out of bed was a bit harder and why looking in the mirror hurt just a bit more than it should.

"Oh, it's you."

Her monotonous voice has you wanting to squeeze her throat, strangle her until she can't speak but you don't move. You stare at her, her lack of reaction, her poker face and you just swallow.

"How are you?"

That was the only sentence you could manage out and if you looked closely enough, you could see her eye twitch slightly as her throat tightens- her composure begins breaking at the sound of your voice.

"Well." She nods. She sounds too composed to you despite all the pain she is desperately trying to hide. She hates you for making her feel this way. She hates how weak she feels when you make that face at her, when your eyes widen and your mouth tightens into a line, body tense and breathing shallow. "You?"

She notices how your body tenses even more at that question, how your eyebrows begin to furrow as your face grows pink from anger.

"Not very good."

"Oh."

Her response had you fuming even more. How she was so careless and thoughtless towards you and how you felt drove you off the walls. She doesn't give a shit about you, why would she even ask?

Because you don't see the guilt that eats away at her heart every night as she stares at the photo of you that she has on her bedside table.

"Congratulations. You did it. Genius society."

It came out bitter and harsh, and Ruan Mei doesn't flinch but she feels this twist in her gut that's too unfamiliar and too painful for her to fully register. She doesn't understand this feeling. She wants to, because she wants to know how to stop it.

"Thank you."

You scoff at her response, physically unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to her, jabbing a finger into her chest.

"You're a fucking bitch."

She hates how her heart leapt at the feeling of your touch, she hates how your words actually manage to hurt her when it really shouldn't be affecting her at all. She's been called so much worse, so why does this, coming from you, hurt so much?

"Is this because I left?"

How can she be so dense?

"You left without saying a word! You just disappeared off the face of the earth, I don't hear from you saying where you are. I don't know what happened, I thought I did something wrong, but no- I remember who you are. A narcissistic bitch who only cares about herself."

The last part hurt more than it should've.

"I don't only care about myself."

You can't help but falter at how soft her voice suddenly goes as she looks down, not making eye contact as she shifts her bodyweight from foot to foot.

"I really cared for you."

Those words shouldn't affect you. You should've moved on from what happened almost twenty years ago now but you can't. You just stare at her and you hate how you feel tears start to form in your eyes as you blink violently, trying to hold it back.

"Don't say that to me."

She goes silent.

"I hate you."

She looks down and you don't see the tears that well up in her eyes.

"I really hope you succeed. I hope you get everything you've ever wanted."

She doesn't even get to see your face for the last time, because by the time she finally gets the courage to look up you were already gone. Your last words to her haunt her every time she begins her studies, or every time she tries to focus on figuring out creating a new life species. She knows you didn't mean it, yet she can't help but want you to notice her just one last time.

Maybe this time, she could fulfil her long broken promise to you.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

@44rtem idk ifthis is the ruan mei content u wanted... but here u go <3

[ihrtnanami]

last christmas!

gojo satoru! x f!reader

inspired by wham!'s last christmas! relationship revival on the most romantic day of the year!?

pt. 1 (currently reading!) pt. 2 (finale - out soon!)

word count: 1.7k (next chapter will be longer :3)

christmas time - one of the best times of the year.

to most people it is. and for you, it usually would be too.

but, last christmas still has you a bit shaken.

you spent it with satoru. and on that same day, he left - no explanation, no goodbye. he was just… gone.

it hurt. badly.

in the beginning, you tried to reach out to him, desperate for answers, some kind of closure. but every text, every call, was met with silence. when he finally did speak to you, his words were colder than the snow falling outside.

"you deserve more than this," he said to you once, his voice cracked with guilt.

and after that, you had to let him go. it was the only thing left to do. the love you once shared felt like a dream you couldn't quite touch anymore.

now it’s late december, and you should have finished your christmas shopping by now. honestly, you’ve had plenty of time... but between being a full-time college student and working a full-time job, procrastination has crept in like an old friend.

or maybe you’re just avoiding the season altogether. it’s hard to focus on the festivities when last year’s ghosts still linger in your mind.

in the bustling mall, you glance at your phone, double-checking the names and gifts you’ve bought so far.

candles?

check.

tea set?

check.

digital camera?

also check.

sighing, you adjust the handful of bags in your grasp. you've been shopping for a little while now. it's time for a break, right?

scanning the food court, your eyes land on a small cafe tucked into a corner. it's charming with warm lighting and a cozy, minimalistic vibe. the windows are adorned with simple christmas garlands, and the faint smell of fresh pastries drift through the air.

"maybe i'll grab a coffee... and a pastry." you think to yourself.

lugging around all of the bags in your hands, you walk to the cafe and wait in the relatively short line. as you wait, you let your gaze wander, taking in the little details of the shop - the chalkboard menu with cheerful handwriting, the tiny wreath hanging above the counter.

it was all so comforting.

once you turn back to look at the line ahead of you, something catches your eye. to the left, there's someone sitting alone.

white hair, fair skin.

"that's a nice head of hair for an old man." you think to yourself - until the man turns to face someone trying to get his attention.

"huh, that looks exactly like..."

"gojo!" a barista calls out.

shit.

you instinctively pull your coat up to cover your mouth and let your hair fall over your face. maybe, just maybe… you can avoid this.

but even with your little disguise, you know he’s already spotted you.

damn six eyes.

you reach into your pocket and take your phone out, scrolling through your notifications, hoping satoru would get the hint. but does he?

absolutely not.

with his coffee in hand, and his muffin in the other, he strides up to you.

your heart races, and all you want to do is leave the cafe and never return to this mall again.

"y/n?"

sighing, you turn off your phone and shove it back into your pocket. pulling the coat away from your mouth, you nod.

"hi, gojo," you reply flatly.

he looks down at the ground, he looks almost... defeated? surely, he didn’t expect you to address him by his given name, right?

he clears his throat, "last-minute christmas shopping, huh?"

you nod, stepping forward as the line moves.

he looks around awkwardly. there's so so much he wants to say, but doesn't know if he should.

"how's everything?" he asks.

"everything's fine, can't complain," you reply.

satoru nods, "good, good,"

the silence between you is heavy, filled with unsaid words.

"so... how's your-" he begins, but the barista interrupts, calling you to the counter to place your order.

you step forward, grateful for the excuse to get away, even for a moment.

after placing your order, you pull out your wallet to pay, only to notice satoru has already covered it. you stare blankly at the screen wishing you a "merry christmas".

you stare at the screen, then back at him, shaking your head.

at the pick-up counter, you drop your bags to the floor, finally allowing yourself a moment to breathe. but of course, satoru follows, standing a little too close for comfort.

"so, as I was saying," he begins again, "how’s your mother? do you think she remembers me?"

you raise an eyebrow.

“she’s fine, and of course she remembers you, gojo. i don't see why she wouldn't,” you respond coldly.

his lips twitch into a faint smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. he’s probably fishing for an ego boost. as expected.

awkward silence envelops you both before satoru breaks the silence again.

"hey, y/n?"

you turn to face him with tears threatening to fall. and yet, they don't.

"what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

his eyes widen slightly before he sets his coffee and muffin on the counter and wraps his arms around you.

"i'm so sorry, y/n i-" and once again, the barista interrupts. she calls out your name, placing your drink and pastry in front of you on the counter.

"damn it... hey, go sit at that table over there, i'll bring your stuff," satoru says gently, reluctantly letting go of you. he smiles softly and nods towards an empty table with two chairs.

you nod silently, walking to the table as you blink away your tears.

why are you getting emotional now? in front of satoru too, nonetheless.

satoru hurries over with your shopping bags, setting them beside you before rushing back to the counter. moments later, he returns with your drink and pastry, followed by his own.

placing your things in front of you, he takes the seat across from you. he watches as sat there in silence, fighting away your tears.

"y/n? are... are you alright?" he asks, his gaze dropping to the table.

of course you aren't alright, but you're far too stubborn to admit it to him.

you sigh, taking a deep breath.

"i'm alright, gojo. don't worry," you say.

grasping your cup, you feel the comforting warmth of the coffee inside. you lift it to your lips, taking a small sip, savoring the taste and heat.

satoru watches you silently, unsure of what to say. he of course isn't convinced by your words.

you place the cup back down, avoiding satoru's gaze. you didn't want to look at him - not now, not yet.

satoru takes a deep breath, his fingers absently crumbling pieces of his muffin as if he’s trying to stall for time. then, with a voice flat and emotionless, he begins to speak.

"i killed my best friend last christmas."

the words hang heavy in the air, their weight sinking into you like stones.

killed... his best friend?

what kind of sick joke is this?

you blink at him, trying to understand what he means. is he calling you his best friend, and the break up the death of you?

"last christmas, before I came to your apartment, the higher-ups called me in to do something,” he continues, his gaze distant, avoiding yours entirely.

“you remember me showing up late, right?"

the memory flashes in your mind. he had shown up late that night. you'd asked him about it, but he’d brushed it off with some vague excuse.

you nod, still trying to piece together where this is going.

"suguru... it was... suguru," he added, his gaze dropping to the table as if the name alone was too heavy to bear. "i had to kill him. last christmas. right before i was supposed to come over to your place."

you freeze as your grip on your cup tightens momentarily. the name strikes you like a slap, leaving you breathless.

he... killed suguru? why?

your heart pounds as you stare at him, waiting for him to explain. satoru’s lips press into a thin line, and he takes another shallow breath before continuing.

"he committed a mass murder of non-sorcerers," satoru says, his tone steady but hollow.

all this time, you’d thought suguru was ignoring your texts because of your split with satoru.

"suguru?" you whisper, your voice cracking. "he... he did that?"

satoru nods, his expression unreadable.

"it wasn’t the first time, but it was the worst. he’d gone too far. the higher-ups ordered me to deal with it... and i did."

you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling. suguru - kind, funny, sarcastic... suguru was capable of something like that? and satoru... satoru had been the one to...

"i didn’t want to," satoru says suddenly, his voice trembling now. his hand tightens around his cup, shaking the coffee inside.

"i wanted to save him. i tried. god... i tried so hard. but he wouldn’t stop. he wouldn’t come back."

you see his jaw tighten, his eyes glistening with something that looks suspiciously like unshed tears.

"so, when i showed up at your place that night," he continues, his voice quieter now, "i wasn’t just late, y/n. i was broken. i had just taken the life of my best friend, and... i didn’t know how to tell you. i didn’t even know how to face you."

a lump forms in your throat, and you struggle to swallow it down.

"why... why didn’t you tell me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

satoru looks at you, his usually bright eyes dim and clouded. "because i couldn’t drag you into it, i wouldn't allow you to get dragged into the mess, the aftermath of the mess. and... because i... well, i thought you’d hate me. because i hated myself."

you sit there, staring at him, as the pieces of the past year start to fall into place. the guilt in his voice when he left. the way he avoided your calls. his sudden absence, like a ghost fading into the background of your life. it all makes sense now, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.

"you deserved better than the wreck of a person i became," satoru admits, leaning back in his chair, his hands shaking slightly. "i thought i was protecting you by leaving, but... i just ended up hurting you more."

for a long moment, neither of you says anything. the quiet hum of the cafe feels louder than ever, the muffled conversations around you blending into meaningless noise.

12/15/2024 ♡ ihrtnanami

[lizzieisright]

if you wrote that backstory idk dude maybe i’d kiss you

alpha abby >>

Honestly I wrote it and for some reason it gives me Pride and Prejudice vibes idk idk

alpha!Abby x omega!reader, just two paragraphs of smut (MDNI), alpha!Abby is sweet eventually, mention of heats/ruts, written on a knee without editing, backstory for these idiots.

-/-/-/-/-/-

When Abby meets you she is baffled. It sounds incredibly arrogant but the fact that her alpha presence doesn't do shit to you offends her. Abby is not used to an omega who doesn't try to impress her and she knows she is being the worst fuckboy stereotype but it genuinely throws her for a loop. You just look at her like Abby is not, well, fucking Abby. Like her scent doesn't make you want to arch your back and present yourself for her. 

And listen, Abby is self-aware enough that she knows not all omegas will like her. It's just. It never happened before. And Abby also is not an idiot who will try to win you over or something - yeah, her ego was bruised but that was just how life is. 

The problem with this starts later, when you're paired for patrol. Abby is so used to being bossy and barking at everyone because omegas will listen and alphas won't dare to challenge her; she doesn't really care if she is being polite to you. 

But you care, judging by your raised eyebrows and angry looks when Abby gives you orders like you're her little soldier. 

And then Abby accidentally makes you absolutely fucking hate her, because she grabs you. She tugs you like a ragdoll to get you out of what she thought as a dangerous way, and she ends up with a knife at her throat. 

You look at her angrily and press your knife harder until she gets the hint, and Abby lets you go. 

"Do that again Anderson and I'll kill you. Don't fucking touch me like that." You growl and Abby, instead of being a normal person, frowns and gets aggressive.

"You were going to fall, idiot, I was saving you." Abby huffs and gets closer, daring you to challenge her. 

"I don't need you to save me." You growl in her face, not backing down, and Abby's eyes flash red, because omegas don't speak to her like that.

You stare back at Abby even though it's hard, standing up to an angry alpha with such suffocating presence is very fucking hard, but you're also very pissed off, so you stand your ground even though it physically hurts to defy an alpha, but you don't care about pain right now.

The stare down ends because there's a crack in the woods and you both get alert, looking around. You grab your knife tighter and Abby instinctively moves to shield you, but nothing comes out to attack you. 

So you finish your patrol in total silence. 

That's how you become easily the only omega in the stadium who doesn't like Abby Anderson. The fact that Abby is also extremely attractive and her scent is intoxicating only fuels your spite. The fact that her dick is so good there's fucking competitions to spend her rut with her only makes it worse. 

To be fair Abby looks miserable in pre-rut so you find some sympathy for her. But not after you hear another omega bragging about how good Abby is in bed. Then you're back to despising her. 

Abby's presence is something you have to train yourself to get used to, refusing to get under her influence, but it gets so much easier once you can let her stare you down across the room and be absolutely calm about it. Abby stares at you a lot, especially if she thinks you fucked up, but you stare back and don’t let her win this. It’s not even aggressive or challenging by this point and it feels like some kind of ritual between you two.

Abby, on the other hand, learns to be more nice to you. She is polite to you and she doesn't touch you again. Sometimes you can even have a normal conversation. You hate it, because Abby is not a total asshole of an alpha and you don’t have an excuse to be mean to her, even though you really want to - it’s the only barrier you have to keep yourself from falling for her. But Abby is genuinely trying and not because she wants to knot you, but because she can't stand having you in distress around her. 

For some reason Abby cares for you and your well-being, she wants you to be comfortable in her company, and yeah, this is weird and Abby’s never felt like that, but when she sees how your shoulders relax when she gets closer to cover you during patrol Abby feels like she won this life. 

Then your heat comes. It comes so fucking unexpected you have trouble breathing, panting and chocking on air as you desperately try to make your way to a safe space, because you know all too well what can happen when there's an omega in heat walking around. 

But it's so fucking hard to walk and you feel your slick coming down your thighs and everything fucking hurts because you need an alpha, so you clutch your knife and barely make it to some fucking corner to catch your breath. 

That is how Abby finds you. She caught your scent and all her senses went into overdrive because you're in heat and you're in distress and all Abby hears in her head is HelpHelpHelpMakeitgoawayHelp and she is making her way to you, her eyes are red because she can't fucking control it now, you're hurting and she needs it to go away and make it better-

You're sitting on the floor, panting, and you hold your knife right in front of your face with trembling hands because this is not happening. Abby smells like heaven and this is not happening. 

"Fuck." Abby sighs and she reacts way too hard to your scent, because your distress just got worse. "I won't hurt you, let me help." Abby pleads and you use your legs to get away from her, pushing yourself back into a corner but there's only a wall. 

"Stay the fuck away from me." You growl and clutch your knife harder. "Get the fuck away, Abby."

You're terrified and Abby can't handle it. She's never seen an omega in such a state, and her brain immediately shifts into protective mode. 

"I'm not going to touch you." But fuck she wants to. "You need to get to your room. I'll help you."

"No-no-no-no. Leave me alone." But you feel your arms grow weaker and the pain getting worse. 

"I'll make it better, okay?" Abby's eyes are red and you can hear it. You can hear it in her voice, what she is going to do and you start crying.

"Abby, no please, no. Don't do this." You plead her, but Abby gets closer to you anyway. 

"Relax." Abby says in her alpha voice and you immediately go pliant against your will. Your brain is fuzzy and you feel so much better, the thoughts are only filled with alphaalphaalpha and how good Abby smells and how good her hands feel on your waist and knees and you cling to her like she's a life line. "I'm not going to do anything. I'll carry you to your room and that's it, okay?"

"Alpha." You plead and bury your nose in her scent glands and Abby has to stop and take a breath and it only makes it worse because the air is filled with your smell. 

But then Abby is hit with your terrified teary eyes from a minute ago and she doesn't want to be someone you're so afraid of. So she carries you to your room and hopes your own place will ground you. 

Your place makes it worse for her though, because your scent is everywhere and you're still clinging to her and calling her alpha and she doesn't know what to fucking do.

So Abby does what humans do to cats: she carries to the bathroom and puts your head under the stream of cold water, which actually works and you spit curses at her.

"What the fuck!" You scream and Abby lets you go. You're sitting on your bathroom floor, wet and cold and angry, but your head feels clearer. You look up at Abby, whose eyes are red and she is so tense you see veins on her arms. You tense too: you have no idea what to expect. "Abby-"

"I won't hurt you." Abby growls and you search for your knife again. "I just. I can't leave you." 

And Abby looks almost guilty. It clicks and you feel affection overflowing your heart despite your better judgment - now that your mind is on heat leave you can't fight your feelings. Abby is so deep in protective mode she literally can't move because in her head she is a threat too - you knew it could happen, you just didn't expect it to happen to Abby. 

"Relax, alpha." You tell her to free her from it, and Abby relaxes immediately. "Now can you leave?"

Abby knows it's the right thing to do - you aren't even friends and you're vulnerable and she is a threat whether she wants it or not, but it still hurts. 

"Were you- did you really think I'd do something to you?"

"With alphas you never know." You answer vaguely and honestly? It hurts even more. Abby doesn't want to be that kind of alpha to you. 

What Abby can't stop herself from doing is sitting outside your door like a dog and guarding you during your heat. Your words really hit her and her instinct to protect you skyrocketed. 

And you know she is there, the heavy suffocating scent filling your nostrils as you desperately cling to your pillow, but Abby smells so strongly of protection it actually eases up the anxiety you have when you're alone in heat and you can't bring yourself to go up and tell her to fuck off.

(You're also afraid you'll jump Abby the moment you see her again because Abby is the best alpha you know and right now she is sitting outside your door protecting you)

(Abby sits there for three days and the way your scent is full of safe keeps her sane, makes it all worth it)

After that you awkwardly thank Abby and she awkwardly apologises for scaring you. The ice between you melts and now when you're paired for patrol it is actually fun. It's still strange to have Abby in constant protection mode, but now you find it sweet. 

Now you find her heavy scent comforting and safe and you seek it out every time you're close. Abby is no better, her head fucking snapping in your direction every time she smells you.

So the awkward courting begins. Abby cautiously attempts to care for you, scared to end up with a knife to her throat again, but you're actually way nicer to her now, taking her jacket when she offers, letting her carry things for you, letting her re-check your guns (after asking if she can). Abby feels hopeful. 

Abby asks you out, ridiculously nervous because you can reject her without a second thought, but you actually say yes. 

You go on a date and Abby barely keeps her hands off you, but she gets close enough for your scents to mix and you're not stupid, you notice it and snuggle into her side, rendering Abby speechless. 

She feels like an idiot around you. 

On the third date Abby kisses you and your scent gets immediately happy and you refuse to feel embarrassed about it because Abby smells the same. 

It'd been a month since you started dating and you notice how aggressively territorial Abby gets, how her scent gets heavier and how often her eyes become red all of a sudden. It means Abby's rut is close. 

Abby is exhausted and you do as much as you can to provide comfort for her, desperate to make her feel better. 

"Your rut is coming." 

"Yeah."

"What's the plan?"

"You don't have to spend it with me." Abby tells you, because she is afraid she'll hurt you. Alphas in rut are rough and unrelenting and Abby is not an exception. "Hell, I don't want you to, if it means you'll get hurt. Especially since-" Since you haven't had sex yet. 

You don't know why, but that is just the pace of your relationship and you're fine with it. What you're not fine with is Abby hurting. 

"I don't think you'll ever hurt me. I'd like to be there with you, if you're okay with it."

"You won't be able to stop me."

"Don't threaten me with a good time." You smirk, but Abby's eyes turn red and you feel yourself getting wet. 

"Fuck, sweetheart." Abby buries her face in your neck and you shiver, because her teeth are close.

That's how you end up face down ass up on Abby's bed, getting fucked so hard you'll have bruises just from Abby's thrusts tomorrow, not counting her grip on your hips. The room is so heavy with her pheromones you're almost choking on it, your head is empty except for alphaalphaalpha breedmbitememarkme and Abby's low growling of "mine" at every thrust, her fangs scraping over your neck. 

And you think you can't take it anymore because Abby is relentless, she is rough, but then her grunts start to get louder and her pace gets sloppy - she is close and you spread your thighs because you know what's coming. 

Abby knots you and it's so fucking much, she is big enough as it is and her knot is even bigger but it makes you see stars and you scream her name. Abby growls into your ear and you can’t help but arch into her, submitting to her. 

Later, when Abby catches the break from being insanely horny, she assesses all the damage she did to you and it makes her sad - she doesn’t like the bruises on you. She gently kisses all of them as if she is apologising and you just bask in her touch and care, smelling so happy and satisfied Abby starts to feel better about it. 

Can you sit properly after Abby’s rut? No. Do you enjoy the sting of pain every time you sit? Yes. Does Abby follow you like a puppy to make sure you're okay? Yes.

Abby is still the same intimidating mean alpha but now you like it. Now you watch her stare down alphas who even dare to turn their noses in your direction and you get happy. Abby is possessive as fuck and she makes sure you always have her scent on you and you're no better, wearing her clothes just to make her wear it after you so Abby'd smell like you, but both of you don't rush with the mating bite until a year later when Abby is gently taking you apart during your heat and you sink your teeth into her shoulder.

You cry because you think Abby'll get mad at you (fuck you heat hormones for making you so sensitive, you get so embarrassed later), but Abby kisses you and tells you how happy you made her and how she can't wait to have you sober to give you your mark.

You carry Abby's bite on your inner thigh.

[fourmoony]

hi, I just wanted to let you know that reading your writing brings me so much comfort and joy. Today, I found out that the person I’ve liked for the longest time has a girlfriend, and it’s been hard to say the least. It also didn’t help that I read an unrequited love blurb featuring remus as soon as I got home 😭 I was just wondering if you’d be willing to write something where the reader assumes that remus doesn’t like her because he seems aloof, but is actually just nervous because he likes her so much. I am so appreciative of you and your beautiful work, as always 🤍

this made me tear up. your words are so kind, and are the push i needed this week to keep writing <3 never in a million years did i think anyone would think this about my writing. thank you.

i'm sorry to hear about your crush; unrequited love is a tricky and heavy feeling. i have no doubt you'll find your person, though. as someone who's had my fair share of heartache, i promise, it won't hurt forever. my friends think i'm crazy because my advice is always to just let it hurt. but one day you'll wake up and you'll have run out of hurt. and you won't even remember what you saw in them, anymore. sending love.

P.S. i suck at writing shy remus so this is more like silent, unreadable remus. idk i'm tired. hope this is okay!

---

remus lupin x f!reader - masterlist 1.2k words

cw - implied self esteem issues, smoking, drinking

Remus' thumping steps carry up the staircase only seconds after you call on him. You're facing the mirror when he arrives in the doorway, hair clasped to the side in one hand, and the other reaching aimlessly for the zip half way down the back of your dress. His eyes find yours over your shoulder in the reflection, a fond smile passing over his features when he steps through the threshold into your room.

"You look lovely." He comments, voice warm and smooth in the way that it always is.

Warm Remus, smooth Remus, so fond and kind, feels like home and everything familiar. His fingers are warm as he tugs gently at the zip, one hand placed on your shoulder for leverage. His touch is gentle, like he's afraid he might break you, and it lingers for only a moment when he's done. You swallow around the lump of want in your throat, the want for it to have lasted longer, the want for him to touch you and have it mean something. It doesn't do any good to want. Because you can't have, and you've had to deal with becoming okay with that fact.

"Thanks, Rem."

He nods, lips curled in on themselves like he wants to say something, a look in his eyes you've never been able to read. He says nothing, and he retreats with the promise to wait on you with the others in the living room. Remus does that a lot - refrains from the things he wants to say, stops himself short. You wish he wouldn't.

You're always wishing, wishing, wishing.

He keeps true to his word. Remus is waiting in the living room with Sirius, James, and a rather flustered looking Frank when you descend the staircase. It's only now you realise how lovely Remus looks in his suit. Partly because of how Sirius is wearing his - like he had a fight with it and lost. Remus stands when you appear, as if on instinct, and takes a step forwards. You smile, eyes catching on Frank who's looking at the clock like it's stealing time from before his very eyes. You suppose, in a way, it is.

"You okay?" You feel the need to ask, hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Frank looks alarmed by your question, a grimace on his face, "She's going to be there, isn't she? She's not going to, like, do a runner? Have you spoke to her today?"

James huffs a laugh, pats Frank on the shoulder rather heavily. The whiskey in his crystal tumbler splashes over the side and onto the rug. "Last I heard, Mary and Marlene had her pinned down in the make up chair, she tried, but they wouldn't let her."

Sirius barks a laugh. Frank scowls. He knows you're kidding. Alice Fortescue has been absolutely smitten for Frank Longbottom since she was thirteen. There's absolutely nothing that could stop her from walking down that aisle, today. Frank knows that as well as you do.

"Not helping." James decides, passes Frank a cigarette.

He mumbles something about not wanting to smoke inside and makes for the door. Remus gives James and Remus a pointed look, "Better make sure he doesn't do a runner, yeah?"

They're quick out the door like they actually believe Frank would ever do something like that. The only place he'd ever run to is Alice. And she'd have his balls for seeing her in her wedding dress before the ceremony. Remus gives you a familiar smile, a knowing smile, a smile he saves for you and you only. It feels like he's in on something you aren't when he smiles like that. Heat crawls up your neck, flowers wrap their way around you rib cage.

"You scrub up well, you know." Is all you manage to say, rather breathless.

Remus rolls his eyes, "I try."

A minute of amused silence, Remus passes you the glass of wine in his hand. The glass is warm from being in his clutch, but you drink from it anyway.

"I thought after the catering disaster this wedding wasn't going to happen." Remus admits, looking out of the living room window at where Frank paces the length of the front path, working his way through his second cigarette. Alice will have your head for allowing such a thing.

You hum a disagreement, eyes roaming Remus' face, it's so soft, so beautifully shaped. You've no idea why he hates his scars so much. They only outline his best qualities. The one over the bridge of his perfectly sloped nose, the one under his beautiful amber eyes, the one along his sharp cheekbones, and your favourite one: the one across his cupids bow, defining his soft, pink lips. It's a shame, really, that Remus Lupin thinks so little of himself. You'd give him the world should he only ask.

"I think nothing can stop a love like that," You murmur, soft and quiet, voice thick with something, "Not even a shoddy caterer."

Remus' eyes leave the front garden, meet with yours in a way that always makes heat explode in your chest. He's too much to look at, sometimes. It physically hurts.

"You always have such a positive outlook on life."

You laugh, shoulders shrugging, "Suppose it's habit."

"From?"

"Keeping you miserable lot from giving up all together?" You offer, smiling over the rim of your wine glass.

Remus laughs, genuine and unashamed. "Tell you what, at our wedding, I promise to be the one keeping everything together, how about that?"

He seems to flinch after that, like he's physically pained by the words coming out of his mouth. You flinch, too. The flowers around your rib cage wilt and pull tighter all in one go, a frown pulling at your lips.

"I wasn't aware we were getting married."

Remus smiles like he's in pain, "Yeah, well, step one would actually be asking you on a date, but I'm a right twat who's mucked all that up."

There's something self deprecating about him. You don't like it. Remus Lupin deserves the world. You'll give him the world. You didn't think he wanted that from you, though. But you smile, gentle and sweet in a way you hope he'll like. It feels like something shifts. Maybe the stars begin to write a story about you both. Maybe the sun stops it's rotation just for a second to watch you both.

The wedding car pulls up outside and Remus, seemingly eager to back away from the situation he's created, slams his own drink down on the table and makes for the door.

"Remus," You call after him, he turns, "I'd marry you."

You offer him a lopsided smile. His eyes search your face for any sign of a joke. He finds none. You hope he understands what you mean.

"How about a date first?" He asks.

You release a breath, a laugh, a smile. It feels like you're floating.

"Sure, yeah. That first."

The front door swings open and Sirius barges his way past Remus, panicked and disheveled, "I've lost the fucking rings!"

Remus sighs, hand in his pocket, hands Sirius the red velvet box, "Here."

You're laughing all the way down the path, shoulder brushing Remus', the start of something new.

[brucewaynehater101]

"It's A Wonderful Life" AU with Tim and Jason

I only know the very basic premise of this movie, so we're going off of that.

Tw: death, suicide, violence

This could be a Titan's Tower AU, but I do think this could be a bit more fun after the BruceQuest.

Tim, who's had his support systems (even the JL ripped from him) and is seething in paranoia, gets cornered by Red Hood. The last time he saw Jason alone, he got a batarang to the chest (Battle of the Cowl). Tim has no reason to suspect this interaction will be friendly.

Red Robin is geared up for a fight. Red Hood has his hands up in surrender and far away from his hip holsters. It's not exactly reassuring (Jason can probably whip out his pistols in the same amount of time it takes Tim to grab a birdarang), but it does communicate that Jason isn't looking for a fight. Tim, who's one mental breakdown away from taking over Lex Corp for the hell of it, doesn't see this as a good sign. Why would Jason, the original Cain instinct, want to talk "peacefully" with his Placeholder? What's the aim?

Jason kind of just wants to apologize and is low-key concerned with how he's so isolated from everyone. He doesn't truly care about Tim, and he doesn't think it's his place/right/ability to be the support for the kid, but he can at least say sorry. Tim doesn't need to accept it, but he deserves the acknowledgement that it was indeed fucked up and not Tim's fault in the slightest. It's not much, especially with the scar on Tim's throat and the trauma, but it's a start. He still holds some resentment for the kid, but he's starting to learn that's more Jason and Bruce's fault than Tim's.

The conversation doesn't go great. Maybe Tim is being defensive and an asshole (which is fair since Jason's attacked him twice at least). Jason gets a little upset over this and snaps back (which is not what he's trying to do and counterproductive).

They get interrupted by this magician that sighs. They explain how fucking exhausting it is hearing them continue to misunderstand each other so they will show them what the world was like if Tim was never born.

Cue something similar to the movie I described. I haven't seen it, so here's what I think happens in that movie combined with this AU.

Tim and Jason stumble around Gotham at the current date in this alternative universe.

It's hell. They constantly run into crime on every corner, and there's no order.

They find out that Bruce had died within a year of Jason dying. Gotham fell to shambles due to Batman's declining reputation at that point. They had no hope and were hostile to any heroes that tried to help (due to the last hero they had turning on them). Gotham was eventually abandoned by the US government.

With his death, people found out Bruce Wayne was Batman. This causes Alfred to be sent to jail, and Dick could never return to Gotham. Dick only survived due to the Titan's refusing to let him destroy himself. He's still not okay.

Damian never came to Gotham cause Bruce had died. He's still set to become Ra's vessel, and no one (like Dick, the JL, Jason, etc) knows about this plot.

Jim Gordon was killed, and Barbara had to move out of Gotham.

Steph joined Helena for a bit. They made a kickass team, but they didn't survive to the current day.

Duke and his family moved out of Gotham before the gates closed, but he lost his parents in the escape.

Cass was never taught language.

Jason killed the Joker and then himself.

Anyways, Gotham goes to shit and Bruce kills himself on patrol (let's himself be hit and doesn't give himself needed rest). That's the basics of what they learned in this alternative universe.

This causes Tim to feel a bit better about all the sacrifices he made. He was vital and important to the Bats. He did good. He was necessary. It doesn't erase all the pain and hurt, but it boosts his self-esteem just a small bit.

Jason didn't realize the extent of what Tim did for them. He didn't realize the impact of Tim's decision and how he saved everyone. The two of them part, and Jason starts to uncover all the sacrifices the teen made.

Tw: suicide

If you want extra angst, maybe the magician reveals that Tim was planning to kill himself before he saw that Bruce needed him (thus the world is what happened if Tim went through with his OG plan). Tim has severely unhealthy coping mechanisms now, but his tendency to help people allows himself to feel needed. Lots to unpack there.

[xoxo-ives]

turning saints into the sea

earrings, jealousy, and hot cocoa

or, tim doesn't like how well reader gets on with his brother

wc: 2119

(title from 'mr brightside' by the killers)

You glance down at your phone as it buzzes, a laugh bubbling up in your throat at the text. You type a response quickly, watching as the little bubble that indicates the other person is typing appears on the screen. When the message comes through, you grin down at your phone. Tim glances at you from across the table, spoon of cereal halfway to his mouth.

“Thought the rule was no phones when we’re eating,” he says drily, not wanting to make it an issue but a little annoyed that you aren’t following the rule you proposed. “I distinctly remember you saying something about ‘quality time’ or whatever.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, typing something and putting your phone down. It buzzes again, and your eyes flick to it, but you leave it on the table and return to your own bowl of cereal.

“So, who’s got you smiling like that at six in the morning?” Tim asks, words tinged with a shade of bitterness, though you barely notice.

“Uh…just a friend,” you say cagily. Tim gives you a deadpan look, and you sigh. “Fine. Your brother.”

“What?” he says, eyes wide. “You’re texting my brother at six in the morning? Instead of talking to me?”

“In my defense, you’re kind of a bitch in the morning,” you mutter.

“Oh my God, you hate me,” he says, pouting and feigning hurt. “You hate me so much.”

“You’re such a baby,” you laugh. “I’m allowed to have other friends.”

“Yeah. Friends who aren’t Dick Grayson,” he says, sticking his tongue out. “You can’t be friends with him. You’re already my best friend, he can’t have you. Tell him he has to find a new friend.”

“I’m not doing that,” you laugh. “You tell him, if you care that much.”

“Fine, maybe I will.”

Your phone buzzes again when you’re walking home from class, and you glance down at it and smile. 

Tell me why I just got a text from Tim yelling at me for stealing you away from him?

Of course he’d actually done it. You thought it was just a joke, but Tim was actually upset that you’re friends with Dick. He’s nothing if not dramatic, and he’s a sucker for attention. 

He’s being stupid. Ignore him.

I would, except he threatened to break my nose.

He’s like five foot six. You could totally kick his ass. I’ll talk to him.

When you get back to your apartment, you find Tim on the couch, working on his laptop. You stand in front of him, pushing it closed when he doesn’t look up at you. He closes his eyes, sighs deeply, and glances up.

“You’d better hope my laptop doesn’t disconnect from the internet, because I’ve been working on that document for two hours and nothing is saved,” he says, annoyed.

“First of all, use the save button. It’s on your computer for a reason. Second, why did you tell Dick you’d break his nose if he didn’t stop talking to me?” Tim has the decency to look sheepish, averting his eyes.

“Oh, he told you about that? You, uh…you weren’t supposed to know.”

“I have a life outside of this apartment, you know. I have other friends. And it’s not fair for you to tell me I can’t.” Tim sighs.

“Yeah, but…come on. Dick? Really?”

“What, are you jealous?” you ask. He says nothing, looking away again. “You are, aren’t you? You’re jealous that I have other friends. You’re still my favorite Robin, don’t worry.”

“You promise?” he says, voice small. He almost seems vulnerable now, as if this means a lot more to him than he’s letting on.

“Timothy. We live together. You’ve been my best friend since the sixth grade. I’ve been more than friendly with you. You’re definitely my favorite,” you say, kissing his cheek. “Besides, you’re the only one who buys me that ice cream I really like, so you have to be my favorite.”

“Really?” he laughs. “That’s how I won you over? Ice cream? Not the fact that I’ve been your best friend for eight years? Not the fact that I protect the city? Not the fact that I always come to walk you home from your evening classes so that you’re not out alone after the sunset? I didn’t realize you were so shallow.”

“Shallow and I mother you and I’m clingy,” you add, nudging him with a grin.

“Mmhmm. You try too hard to take care of me.”

“And you like it, even though you’re a liar and you won’t admit it.”

“Hey,” Dick says, poking your shoulder. “Pay attention to me.”

“I’m working on something,” you mumble, not looking up from what you’re writing. “Give me five minutes.”

“That’s what you said a half hour ago,” he groans. “You’re not giving me adequate attention.”

“You’re so needy,” you laugh. “Tim isn’t like this.” You set your pen down, pushing the paper aside and taking a sip of your coffee. The cafe you’re sitting in is quiet, and it’s a nice change of pace from hiding in a chair in the corner of the student union. “What do you want?”

“Do you want to come with me to a charity event Bruce is having on Friday night?” 

You pause. You hadn’t known there was an event this week. You usually go with Tim, who hasn’t mentioned anything yet. What’s the harm, you think. Just this once. Tim will survive. 

“Sure,” you say. “Should I wear a specific color? So that we match? Tim likes to color-coordinate, so…”

“Blue is good. You know, you talk about Tim an awful lot,” he says, smiling knowingly.

“I mean, he’s my roommate. I see him a lot. of course I talk about him.”

“Uh-huh,” Dick says. It’s clear he doesn’t believe you, but he isn’t going to call you out on it. “I’ll pick you up around six?”

“Six is fine. Now, seriously, I’ve gotta get this work done.”

Quarter to six on Friday afternoon rolls around, and suddenly, you’re rushing around the apartment, trying very hard not to trip in your heels and dress, looking for a pair of earrings. Tim comes in the door and stops halfway across the living room.

“Um…hi. You good?” he asks, frowning.

“Yeah, just looking for my earrings. You know the silver ones with the butterflies?” You don’t look up, still rifling through drawers.

“Your gala earrings? What do you need those for? I’m not going to the event tonight.”

“Oh. Um. I assumed you were going.”

“No, I told Bruce I wouldn’t be there. I wanted to spend the evening with you. Since we’ve both been so busy.”

And without meaning to or realizing it, Tim has made you feel like the worst person in the world. Of course the one time you agree to go without him is the one time he’s canceled to spend time with you. But you can’t bail on Dick, not at the last minute. And so you find yourself facing Tim, tongue between your teeth, face burning.

“I actually…have plans tonight?” you say hesitantly.

“Plans that you need your fancy earrings for?”

“Well, see…I initially thought you’d be at the gala, and I kind of…am going?”

“You’re going. Without me. Alone? If you’re going alone, just cancel. Bruce won’t care,” Tim says easily.

“That’s kind of the problem. I’m not…going alone,” you mumble. The situation is already awkward, and is only going to get worse if Tim asks, as he inevitably will, who you’re going with.

“You have a date. Who’s your date?”

At the moment he asks, like some parody of being saved by the bell, there’s a knock on the door. Tim gives you a look and opens it, jaw twitching when he sees who it is. He steps back, opening the door all the way.

“She’s over there,” he grits out, gesturing to you standing in the living room. Dick steps inside, beaming at you, and you smile back weakly. You finally find your earrings, putting them on, and you check your reflection in the microwave quickly. Tim is glaring at you, but you’re ignoring him.

“I’ll be back…some time tonight,” you say. “Whenever the gala’s over. You don’t have to wait up.”

You don’t get an answer, but you weren’t expecting one. You slip your arm into Dick’s, walking with him down to his car. You see the car, and you sigh, looking over at him.

“You know Tim is watching us from the window. You knew he’d do that. And this is the car you brought?”

It’s a car you’ve seen at many a gala, a car you’ve seen around the manor. It’s a dark gray, flashy, and, like most of what Dick Grayson owns, expensive. He grins, clearly knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“I can’t say I know what you mean. This is just my car.”

“Richard,” you say flatly. “You’re not stupid. You know how this is going to look to Tim. You really want to tell me you’re innocent in this?”

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m trying to rile him up a little. But I have a plan, just trust me.”

“Care to enlighten me? I don’t like you messing with my life.” Dick rolls his eyes, putting an arm around your shoulders and walking you to the passenger side of the car. He looks up at the window, making eye contact with Tim and winking at him. When he gets into the car, he looks over at you with a smug expression.

“Trust me,” he repeats. “I have a plan.”

The event itself is predictable. It’s the same as every other charity event that you’ve been to, except people keep looking at you. You suppose it’s a side effect of being there with Gotham’s favorite bachelor, but it’s off putting. You’re used to sitting with Tim, drinking sparkling grape juice because Bruce won’t let you anywhere near the champagne, laughing at the stuffy rich people. 

Now all of a sudden, you’re expected to be one of the stuffy rich people, following around after Dick and charming people whose closets are the size of your bedroom. By the time the event is over, you’re exhausted and frustrated, eager to go home. You get in the car and tilt your face up to the roof, sighing heavily.

“That was awful,” you say. “How do you do that every time?” Dick just laughs, still looking completely put together and awake. He shrugs.

“It’s not that bad. I guess you get used to it when everyone wants to talk to you at these kinds of things.”

“I have so much more respect for you now. Like, actual respect.”

“You saying you didn't respect me before?” he teases.

“That is absolutely what I’m saying, yes. Can you take me home please?”

He drives you back to your apartment, offering to walk you up. You decline, knowing Tim is likely sitting in the kitchen, brooding, and bringing Dick in will only stir the pot. You climb the stairs slowly, wanting to buy yourself some time. You put the key in the lock, and the door swings open from the inside. Tim is standing there, blue eyes sharp, a question on his lips. Did you enjoy it more than you would have with me?

“Hi,” you say quietly. “Have a good night?”

“No,” Tim answers bluntly. “I had nothing to do.”

“If it’s any consolation, my night was also shit. I never realized how many people want to talk to Dick at those events. I think I met more people tonight than I have in the entire rest of my life.”

“Yeah, Gotham’s most eligible bachelor,” Tim says bitterly. “Pretty face and more money than he knows what to do with.”

“Yeah. Um…you know it wasn’t, like, a date, right? Like, Dick and I just went as friends?” you say. “He’s not stealing your best friend or anything. And I’d never do that to you. Family is off-limits. And he’s like my older brother, honestly.”

Tim doesn’t say anything, but the harsh lines of his face seem to soften a bit. He makes a small sound that borders suspiciously on a harrumph and turns away. You sigh and head to your room, changing out of the stuffy formal clothes and into your pajamas, which are actually an old hoodie and a pair of Tim’s shorts that you stole. 

“I really didn’t mean to upset you,” you say softly. “I’m sorry that I did. Do you want hot chocolate?”

Tim still says nothing, but he moves to the kitchen and gets out two mugs, setting them down on the counter. You sigh and smile fondly. He’s stubborn and difficult, but he’s yours.

[microwavesaferat]

So I keep thinking about the Life Series Members as TMA Avatars idea that I had and I now have character design concepts. Slight update that Scar is now dual wielding. Also, shout-out to the person who said Gem could also be web aligned, because of this, she is now corruption aligned but themed around silverfish because they also make webs.

Bdubs - Dark

Fully avatar. Looks a bit like a phantom. Whenever it's dark, he can completely blend in and suddenly appear from the shadows. His whole thing is feeding off people who are late. Missed your last train home? Late night at work and finally heading home? God forbid you miss your bedtime. He will be there, don't keep him waiting, you're late enough already.

BigB -Spiral

Half avatar. Looks the same but it's really hard to read his expression. Small details change, like his eye colour or his facial hair. Wasn't that pocket on the other side? His whole thing is being generally unerving and instilling a sense in you that something is wrong. Even if nothing has changed, it certainly feels like it.

Cleo - Flesh

Full avatar. Her design is already perfect, no notes. I saw that one post that's like "an illegal organ dealer holding up a pair of lungs to see if they fit" and that's very much the vibe. In this au, she's not just got multiple parts because she needs to, she wants them. Who needs to paint their nails when they can just change the hand they have? I also think she has too many limbs like I already said. Every time you see her, they have a different number of limbs.

Etho - Stranger

Full avatar but kind of chill about it. Think like Simon Fairchild and Mike Crew. He looks normal, but his mask doesn't move when he speaks, is there even a mouth under there. He seems to never blink either. Basically a weird mechanical being, mind of like Nikola, but a bit more chill about it. Don't call him creepy, he's just Canadian :(

Gem - Corruption

Goes from new to full avatar over the course of Secret Life. I went into detail over her design in my original post, basically what I already said. She just gets more overgrown over the course of Secret Life. She targets those who've hurt her allies. You hurt the hive, now the queen comes to you.

Grian - Eye

Full avatar. Basically the same watcher design normally done. The more eldritch the better. Very much just a purple Jon. He does his usual shit of observing the suffering of the games.

Impulse - End

New avatar. He is not aware of the situation he's stuck in being forced to get to close to winning. As he's a new avatar, he's basically just normal. I do think that his general aura really makes people want to stab him in a back. He's just so stabible.

Jimmy - End

Half avatar. He's on his way to becoming a full avatar, just not quite got control of the curse. He has the canary wings, but kind of rotting and skeletal as the canary has already died. They get worse over time as he dies more and more. He has slowly grown more skeletal and corpse-like in general. It's almost like the damage he sustains stays through death.

Joel - Desolation

Full avatar. He's chill until near the end of the season where he suddenly gets this manic look and just sort of snaps. He doesn't melt like Jude does, but is charred in places where he's also caught ablaze. He doesn't have a specific target, it's just everyone but only near the end of the series.

Lizzie - Buried

New avatar. She doesn't seem to realise where all the dirt is coming from, someone keeps traipsing mud into the house and it's definitely not her! No way she would have muddy boots inside. As well as that, every time she looks at the stars, her throat seems to catch. Joel is sick of the ever growing donations he keeps getting of his wife's remains, there's only so many urns he can hold. To be fair, he's pretty sure Scar just sold him gravel.

Martyn - Hunt

Half in 3rd Life but full avatar by Limited Life. He's like how Martin in tma could have become an eye or web avatar but instead became a lonely avatar. Martyn could have become a slaughter avatar with Ren or an eye avatar. They end of Limited Life is him becoming a full avatar. He's stuck with a ring cuts round his head constantly dripping into his eyes, weirdly in the same shape the coral sat. He also has red marks on his hands from wielding an axe in 3rd Life. He mainly goes for those who want to break the system. There is only one way out, and it's through blood.

Mumbo - Web

New avatar. Has no idea he's an avatar or what they even are. Everyone else assumes he knows. He keeps finding cobwebs in his hair, it's getting concerning. What do you mean he's greying? Why do the lighter hairs in his mustache feel like a different material? Eventually, he gains a set of eyes and doesn't notice for a ridiculously long time before he has to get his reading glasses for working with redstone. The web will do with him what it desires, and the Mother of Puppets wishes to see the blorbo struggle.

Pearl - Hunt/Lonely

Half avatar. She not fully committed to either fear so is like a half avatar in both. She seems to exude fog like Martin but in a way that makes her more obvious, like a dark silhouette against a grey background. As well as that, her red eyes and they dozen or so dogs' eyes can be seen so clearly, almost as if there are no clouds at all. Tilly is the name of the form she takes like Daisy does. She targets those who have isolated her. She is not to be ignored any longer.

Ren - Slaughter

Half avatar. He's done the opposite of Martyn and is trying to force himself away from the mantle of Red King. Kind of how Jon tries to stop feeding the eye, Ren tries to be more peaceful and doesn't even partake in some games. Regardless, the call of blood is too strong. He looks normal most of the time, but, when things go south, his neck starts leaking a deep crimson. The canine features grow and so does the accent. Ren can try to stop it all he wants, but the Red Winter is coming.

Scar - Web/Lonely

Full avatar. Scar is a full avatar with both fears. He has been full web the entire time but only because fullomelu after double life. He has the appearance of a straveling salesman someone always having just what you require. You have to be in his good books, you don't know why, but you must. In this au, he has a wheelchair with seemingly infinite storage. Regardless of what you say, he's "got just the right thing" as he reaches into another pocket. There are 8 spokes on each wheel, each spoke weirdly hairy and almost segmented? Regardless, he has what you need, so you pay up, issue is, by the time you put your wallet away, all that's left is some fog.

Scott - Vast

Half avatar. The vast has been trying real hard to transform him, but he just won't go. He keeps walking up to the edges of cliffs or the shore, looking out wistfully into the expanse, before going "nah" and walking away. It's almost like he's taunting his patron. He likes to keep to cramped spaces, just to spite them. Regardless, he seems to stare at the night sky, almost like he's looking for something, or waiting.

Skizz - Lonely

New avatar. Skizz? An avatar of the lonely? But he's got loads of pals. How could he be lonely? He's useful to everyone, he serves his purpose, they don't grieve because he wouldn't want that, right? He's an absolute angel. His design is still angelic, but with gold tear tracks down his face. He's unwilling to admit that being treated as expendable has gotten to him. It's fine, the fog of death is calm, it doesn't ask anything of him, it's... Peaceful.

Tango - Desolation

Full avatar. Not much changes from his design. The usual fire hair that gets stronger with the anger. He fully transformed in Last Life when Bdubs killed him. Up until then, the hair was just regular hair, but that death changed him. He's not immune to the fire. The more he burns, the more how almost looks like a roast marshmallow but I'm a creepy way. He's charged and melting and angry. So so angry. If you take something from him, he will take everything from you.

[frickingnerd]

love triangle with hajime & nagito

pairing: hajime hinata x gn!reader x nagito komaeda

tags: jealousy (mutual), the boys trash talking each other, fights/arguments, ultimate!reader, reserve course student!hajime

while the two boys fight over your heart, hajime is the civil one, while nagito is willing to do whatever it takes to make you choose him

hajime really wants to play fair and he wants you to choose the boy your feelings are stronger for

however, seeing how willing nagito is to play dirty does bug hajime and he keeps finding himself tempted to use the same tricks to win you over that nagito uses

nagito talks badly about hajime towards you, constantly reminding you that he's a mere reserve course student, while the two of you are ultimates

he wants you to know that you two are better and that you only deserve the best! and while he might not be the best, he's at least better than some commoner who bought his way into a prestigious school

hajime finds himself using a similar technique against nagito, reminding you of how cruel the boy is to commoners like him and how you shouldn't settle for a mean boy like nagito

you deserve someone nice, someone who treats all people equally! sure, he didn't have an ultimate talent to offer, but he could love you more than anyone else in the world could! 

aside from all that, both of the boys are really jealous! 

usually hajime isn't the jealous type, but nagito just hits a nerve for him and he can't help but feel his blood boil when he sees nagito get all cozy with you! 

and nagito doesn't feel much different! 

whenever he sees you be friendly towards hajime, he feels like throwing up! you were simply too kind, wasting your kindness on a nobody like hajime…

nagito loves to make hajime jealous on purpose, trying to let you see how your favorite reserve course gets so upset whenever nagito just does as much as hug you or compliment you

honestly, the two are constantly at each other's throat, arguing because of you – and often even in front of you! 

you better pick one of them quickly, before they end up hurting each other in some stupid fight one of these days…

[adventuringblind]

Flowers in your throat

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: Angst

Summary: the problems of unrequited love

Warnings: hanahaki disease, blood, coughing

Notes: idk what this is... Does anybody wanna spam my inbox with things to write over break? Logan is on the list, but I'm blanking on ideas for the boy T_T

Masterlist

Flowers. Beautiful things that each have their own meanings. One that even color plays into.

Beautiful amd deadly things, these Flowers. She can't even stomache the sight of them anymore. Not when they are the source of her current misery.

A misery she has yet to understand. Is one not enough for her? Will Lando hate her for loving more then just him? Is she really that greedy?

Her driving had suffered because of her lack of focus. She's coughing over the radio now and her engineer has started to notice. Her trainer even more so with how sick she looks.

She doesn't want Lando to find her like this. Maybe she doesn't even like Oscar and this is because of the loving looks and gentle touch he's been sharing with her boyfriend. Is she jealous? In a way yes, but she wants that from both of them. She coughs up another petal at the thought.

Hopefully Lando isn't awake. She'd been on the floor of the Hilton bathroom for at least an hour now. Her mind running through all her options. How she might be able to fix this.

Death is the easiest option in the long run. The surgery would hurt Lando as she would struggle with any kind of love afterwards. Oscar loving her back is another, but again, how would Lando react?

She'd yet to even open up to him about the idea of polyamoury. To scared from past encounters and getting hurt. Easier just to ignore anything else. The words of her last partner rings through her ears. 'It's either one or the other' but never both. How can she have such a love for two people to the point it's killing her?

The door creaks open. She panics and tries to hide from Lando's worried gaze. He still ends up on the floor with her.

"Please talk to me."

"I can't. You're going to leave me."

"Whatever this is, we'll figure it out, okay? But we can't even begin to work on it if I have no idea what's going on." And he's right. For as chaotic as he is, Lando has always wanted to work through things together.

"I'm not - well - before I start I should say I love you dearly with every fiber of my being."

"Is this a break up?"

"No!" She shouts a little to loudly and quickly. Lando looks a bit startled but calms we he sees just how panicked she is. "I don't want us to break up - I just know that you won't want me anymore."

The thoughts of Lando leaving her flood her mind. Having to watch him and Oscar be teammates while she watches from afar. Her body wracks with coughs again as another petal comes up, pretty but splatters in red.

"Is that-?"

"Hanahaki, unrequited love."

"But I do love you so then..." He takes a moments to process. "It's not me is it?"

"My parents always told me my heart was to big." She inhales shakily. "It's Oscar."

"Since when? How long do we have before-" He doesn't finish the sentence.

"A have a few months left maximum. I'm already two months in."

"Silverstone."

"I'd already been fond of him before that but watching the two of you smile together like that." Tears slip past her eyes as she tries to stop the burning in her chest. "I'm so sorry and I understand if you leave. It's not like you signed up for this."

"I'm not leaving you. I don't care who else you love as long as I'm here with you. Plus, it's Oscar, I'd be lying if I said I don't have any feelings for him." Lando Admits with a shrug.

"Really?"

"I know you love me, too much, probably. If this is what loving you means then I'll be here every damn step."

She throws herself into Lando's arms, curling into the warmth of his body. And for the first time on two months, she cries in relief.

~~~~~

On the other side of things, Oscar isn't fairing any better. The constant scratch of his throat has started in August. Over the summer break when he had to bare witness to Lando and his girlfriends pictures.

He couldn't tell who he was more jealous of, or if he was jealous at all. Both, he was jealous of both because he wants to be with both of them. It's illogical, he thinks, that he should want two partners so desperately. They are committed to each other, why would they want him as well?

Lando is once again on the podium his female counterpart part there to congratulate him. Eyes shining as they smile at each other. The itch in his throat is to much. It burns in his chest as his lungs try to fight for air.

He runs back to the garage after getting weighed. Just in time to collapse onto the floor of his driver's room. Petals fall from his lips. Beautiful and soaking in red fluid.

He's still struggling to breathe when his door flys open. Logan amd Liam swim in his vision and ears. They drag him off the floor and get him upright again.

They clean him op and sit with him until Kim comes to get him for debrief. The older male looks horribly concerned. Lando also looks at him with something he can't pinpoint while sitting through the meeting. It's enough to make his chest burn again just knowing Lando is even looking at him.

Logan and Liam come knocking at his door that night. They want answers and rightfully so. He tells them, coughing on the bathroom floor while doing so.

"Have you talked to them?"

"No, why would they want me Lo?"

Liam hands him more water and pratically forces him to drink it. "Have you seen the way they look at you?"

And no, he hasn't, only how people say he himself looks helplessly in love.

How would they look at him now? In disgust? Maybe pity?

Shame he may never find out.

~~~~~

Another hard race. Las Vegas had messed them all up in some way shape or form. She couldn't breathe knowing Lando had crashed to hard. She coughed an entire petal up during the yellow flags just thinking about how he must be feeling.

She's been coughing up whole flowers recently. Tonight was no exception. Lando, despite being on heavy painkillers, was desperately trying to help her through a few larger ones.

She was barely eating anymore. Couldn't breathe. Her teammate had even noticed the drastic change in her appearance. Max and Christian had both been on her case. Third seemed so far away now as Lando tries to get water down her throat.

"I don't want you to die."

"And I don't want to live without love."

Lando manages to pull himself off the floor to answer the door. Mumbling about how it's probably Jon making sure he's alright.

She can hear the familiar voices of Oscar and Logan through the thin walls.

Oscar sounds rough. She blames it on the long race he had. He'd looked so tired coming out of the car, hands running through his hair.

Her lungs burn again. It's more so this time. Her entire body is on fire. She can't even cough properly and wails as she has to pull out whatever is in her throat.

A stem. One with thorns.

Lando is frantically pleading with Oscar and Logan for something. Oscar is also coughing. Enough that is worsens her own.

She coughs again. Another stem feels like it's tearing her open from the inside. She wails at the stinging pain. Panic overcomes her as it seems to never end.

The door swings open. Lando and Logan drag in a coughing Oscar.

He's in the same boat as her. He's been suffering this whole time.

"Logan who is it?! Please, I need to know." Lando is begging now. The sight of what's happening can't be helping his nerves.

"It's you two, both of you I think. He didn't say exactly."

She tunes out anything else. It's them. He is feeling this because of them. She coughs up the rest of the stem and the burning starts to fade.

But then the exhaustion hits. She wants to tell Oscar everything. Enough so he doesn't have to cough up thorns like herself.

She passes out before she can.

~~~~~

Oscar wakes up in bed. One that definitely isn't his own. He tries to sit up, but his body is depleted still. Noticeably, his lungs feel lighter then they have in months. The ache in his chest has lessened, but his love for the two is still there. If this isn't the work of a surgery then-

He sits up frantically, searching for something. Someone, more like. A hand on his shoulder pushes him back down.

"Relax, we're still here." It's Lando and his partner is on the other side of Oscar. She's dead asleep and rightfully so after what he witnessed her cough up.

"Where's Logan?"

"Asleep on the couch. He didn't want to leave you."

"And you - do you and her - are we?" His words are broken. He can't think properly.

"Caught feeling a while ago, mate. Her before I realized myself. She loves hard, enough to cough up flowers, apparently." Lando crawls into the space between Oscar and the female. Oscar, in his sleepy haze, latches onto Lando. He feels better being apart of whatever cuddle pile this is.

He falls back to sleep so easily. Only to be woken up later by a few frantic coughs. Lando is immediately trying to get the female out of bed and to the sink. She claims she's fine and it's confirmed by the lack of petals.

"It's from what the thorns did." Her voice sounds wrecked. Oscar tries to get up to help only to be pushed back again by Logan. Curse his exhaustion.

The American gets everyone water. Oscar is grateful for it as it soothes his still sore throat.

"So does this mean you three are going to be together then?" Logan raises an eyebrow.

"If either of them say no after this, I'm throwing hands. After the hell they've put me through I will force them to cuddle if need be."

[weirdsht]

Queasy - Choi Han/Reader

a/n: inspired by me being the most easily nauseated person I know. Actually, idk if nauseated is the right term, we call it "naduduwal" in the Philippines and when I used google translate it said that the translation is nauseous. Anyways, this may or may not be inspired by actual scenarios in my life...

tags: self-indulgent, 5 + 1 fic, female reader, fluff, descriptive signs of vomiting, but there's no actual vomiting, author went a bit overboard?

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Ever since [Name] was a child she easily felt nauseous. The slightest change of smell can make her feel as though a bile is coming up her throat. Whatever she ate last threatened to come back up.

Living with it for all her life made her used to it. That was why she forgot to inform her new group of friends about her “condition”.

Which brings everyone to this predicament…

Beacrox was cooking lunch for everyone. The kitchen door was open as the thing his cooking had too much smoke. It smelled good. In fact, everyone couldn’t wait to eat. They were already imagining what could the chef be possibly making.

Until [Name] walked into the room.

When she first walked in everything seemed normal. They even looked happy as there was a pep in their step. However, that changed as soon as they smelled the aroma of the food being cooked.

[Name] staggered a little, but quickly composed herself. She could feel that familiar feeling something trying to crawl up her throat. But she knew that it was nothing alarming so she swallowed it down and greeted everyone.

“Are you okay..?”

Choi Han inquired hesitantly, his hands supporting [Name]’s back. The woman gathered herself fast enough that no one else noticed. It’s just that nothing escapes past the swordmaster’s observant eyes.

…Well at least nothing about [Name] can escape past Choi Han’s eyes.

“I’m fine. The sudden change of smell just surprised me.”

“Are you sure?”

Choi Han doesn't look convinced in the slightest.

“Positive. In fact, it smells good. I can’t wait to see what Beacrox made!”

After that day [Name] could feel Choi Han’s concerned gaze whenever the smell of food was up in the air.

The next time it happened it probably would have costed [Name] her life if it wasn’t for Choi Han. Which was comedic considering the culprit…

+~+~+~+~+~+

A sneeze.

Yes, a sneeze almost took out [Name]. A single sneeze made her vulnerable to the enemies' attacks.

They were fighting, another typical day of bringing Cale’s crazy plans to life. Everything was going well, they had the upper hand. The enemy was on [Name]’s mercy.

Achoo!

Well, it was until she sneezed.

It would have been fine if it was just a normal sneeze.

Bleur–

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

[Name] staggered as she put her left hand on her mouth, her right hand trying to hold onto something to stabilize herself. Her momentarily loss of balance made her vulnerable to the enemies' attacks.

She honestly thought that would be her end. If it wasn’t then she would at least sustain some grave injuries.

THUD!

Black aura surrounded the area [Name] was fighting on. The sword of the owner of the said aura fighting against the enemies trying to hurt her.

The aide surprised [Name]. Because she swears just a millisecond ago Choi Han was fighting his fair share of enemies on the other side of the battlefield. Then as if he has a [Name] 6th sense, he almost teleported to where she was as soon as she started staggering.

Choi Han encircled his free arm around [Name]’s waist. He gently lifted her off the ground as he started to move around to fight the enemies.

It looked as if they were dancing instead of fighting. The two are facing each other chest to chest, [Name]’s feet are completely off the ground making Choi Han lead the sway. They looked as though they were presenting a bloody waltz. It would have been a sight to behold if it wasn’t a matter of life or death.

[Name] and Choi Han went on like that until none of the enemies were left alive. The swordmaster refuses to let her down despite her protests.

Later on, when Cale asked what happened, [Name] answered honestly about how her sneeze was the cause of everything. Choi Han was of course within hearing range when this conversation happened.

Since then the swordmaster made sure to keep anti-allergen medicine in his pocket at all times.

Cale’s group seldom get days off. It wasn’t because their young master was working them to the bone. In fact, his always the first one to suggest the idea of slacking off for a few hours. Rather, it’s just that everyone always keeps themselves occupied. Even when it’s a supposed “free day” everyone will be busy, either training or researching something.

+~+~+~+~+~+

That was why this stroll [Name] is doing in town isn’t because she had the day off. She’s actually strolling the busy streets in order to spread another rumour, Cale’s orders of course.

But she can’t help but admit that this task is more leisurely compared to their usual missions.

Which was why she decided to take it easy and enjoy her rare outing.

As usual, with her is Choi Han. The rumours don’t need lying so he was up for the task. He had been paired with [Name] to ensure he wouldn’t go overboard.

“Let’s go check out that stall! It didn’t exist when I went here last week!”

[Name] pulled the swordmaster behind her, trying to drag him over to the new stall that seemed to sell all kinds of trinkets.

Choi Han let himself be dragged by her. A smile grazed his lips at how happy she looked.

Just like that, the two continued to spread rumours while enjoying themself around town. Choi Han’s previously empty hands are now filled with bags containing souvenirs for everyone left at home.

“We should’ve brought a spacial bag–”

Keugh!

[Name] felt nauseous once more. There wasn’t even a trigger this time. No smell, no sudden movements. Nothing. Her body made her nauseous just because it could.

“Let’s get you home now.”

Choi Han, a little more used to her body’s antics now, placed himself in front of her in order to catch her. It was the next best thing he could do since his arms were currently unavailable. As expected, [Name] landed on his chest. Her hands latching themselves onto his shirt to keep herself from falling.

“…Yeah I guess that’s enough chatting with the townspeople. I’m sure everyone knows us by now.”

Next time [Name] felt nauseous Choi Han wasn’t there to help her. In fact, there were no adult figures as she was the adult for the day.

+~+~+~+~+~+

That’s right, she was with the children averaging 8 years old.

Everyone had something to do and they were in a foreign kingdom. Hence why [Name] decided to take the kids out to eat. After all, it’s not every day they would be able to taste these foreign dishes. Unless they manage to snag the recipe and bring it back to Beacrox.

“Try this [Name]!”

“You have to taste this nya!”

“This one is delicious too nya! Try it! Try it!”

[Name] had rented out a private room so the children could eat freely. One of the consequences of that was them pushing her to eat everything they deemed delicious. Which was practically the entire menu of the restaurant.

After a while [Name] could feel herself becoming full. She was aware that she should stop eating or else she’d feel nauseous again.

But she didn’t have the heart to deny the kids feeding her a bunch of food. They just wanted to share the joy of eating something delicious with her.

And so she pushed her limits. She couldn’t say no when those three pairs of adorable eyes looked at her expectantly.

Fortunately, Cale and Choi Han soon arrived.

As they entered the room the kids ran over to Cale, ready to feed him everything they made [Name] taste.

Simultaneously, Choi Han took it as a chance to check on [Name]. As soon as the door opened he noticed how pale she looked.

“You alright?”

He whispered as he sat beside her. His fingers rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Yeah, just peachy. I just got carried away and ate too much”

She whispered back as she leaned on his arm.

“Sure? Maybe you accidentally ate something bad for your stomach…”

“I’m sure. I simply couldn’t say no to the kids.”

Choi Han chuckled slightly, understanding where [Name] was coming from.

“Try not to let them sway you next time.”

He halfheartedly suggested knowing that [Name] would probably do it again if it was for the kids.

“Hahahaha! Did you see the young master’s face!? It was hilarious!”

+~+~+~+~+~+

[Name] laughed as she recalled how the awards ceremony went down. She didn’t expect the crown prince to pull off such a thing. Beside her was Choi Han who was smiling. He didn’t fully comprehend why she found the earlier scene funny but as long as she was happy

“Who needs to go watch opera when you have that–“

There comes the nausea from laughing too much. [Name] instinctively grabbed on Choi Han’s arm. Her grabbing onto him seemed to be the drill as of late whenever she felt nauseous.

“Karma”

Cale grumbled as he walked past them while holding onto a plate of cake. He clearly heard how [Name] was laughing hard at him.

In the midst of [Name] almost throwing up her lunch she still found joy in the situation. The young master was quite cute when his upset after realising he got “scammed”.

And so another wave of laughter escaped past her lips.

“Stop laughing, you’ll feel worse.”

Choi Han clicked his tongue as he scolded the woman leaning on his arms. However, that said woman couldn’t control her laughter. Everything was just too funny.

Giving up, the swordmaster merely supported her weight. He waited for her to feel weak by either laughing too much or feeling even more nauseous.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

+~+~+~+~+~+

This time that desperate time is Choi Han feeling uncomfortable while dealing with a bunch of nobles. He had his fair share of interaction with them but it still felt unusual. Even more so when they surround him, just like right now.

In the midst of him trying to escape from everyone and seriously considering knocking them all unconscious, a familiar figure managed to stagger into his arms.

That familiar figure looked weak. The back of her hand was covering her mouth in an attempt to not vomit.

Of course, that familiar figure was [Name].

Choi Han easily caught her in his arms as she staggered towards him. Once she felt she was safe, she rested her head on his chest.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go now.”

Choi Han bowed towards the crowd before hooking his arms underneath [Name]’s legs. The nobles understood his intentions and finally created a path he could go through. Everyone is aware of how [Name], like Cale, seems to also have a weak constitution.

The swordmaster thanked them as he carried [Name] out of there. He walked until they arrived at a gazebo in the garden.

He sat down on the bench-like chair inside the gazebo, placing [Name] on his lap. Choi Han scanned her body to make sure nothing else was wrong before asking his questions.

“Did you push yourself again? Was it the crowd this time? Were they too much?”

Concern lingered in his eyes, but [Name] simply giggled at him.

“I’m fine, I was faking it.”

“Why..?”

The swordmaster is no stranger to his friends acting all sorts of roles to get what they want. However, this time he can’t fathom why [Name] would do such a thing.

“You looked uncomfortable silly. Is that a way to thank your saviour?“

[Name] jokingly asked him, flexing her muscles as if she just saved him from a gruesome battle.

“I guess you’re the knight in shining armour today huh?”

Choi Han played along to her whims. His hold on her waist tightened ever so gently to ensure she wouldn’t fall off his lap for she was moving too much.

That afternoon, the two spent their time talking about all sorts of topics inside the gazebo until they had to reluctantly go back inside once more.

[ma1dmer]

League of Legends - Kayn NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): he is up and on the move the second you two are done, he’ll tease you if you complain

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): considering he thinks his body as the ultimate weapon i find it hard to think he would have any particular preference on himself, its the strength he has ,that he likes, the strength to lift you up or bend you to any position he desires. on his partner i can see him as liking some sort of muscle definition , the proof of strength and commitment ,wether thats on your arms, or thighs or abs, he wants to see the flex of the muscle beneath as he is pounding into you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): he is kind of a dick when it comes to well, his cum, he will pull out his cock while you give him head purely to get it on your face, enjoying marking you up and then bending down to kiss you despite the mess.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): i think Kayn is a bit of a masochist, would get excited when you pull out a knife on him ,pushing forward for you to dig the blade into his skin, challenging you to hurt him as he captures your lips and helps you drag the blade slowly down his skin until he is panting and groaning against your mouth.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): has his fair share of conquests, but none of them matter when it comes to being with someone new, it helps his confidence, but half the fun for him is figuring out what makes the other person crack ,their weak spots etc

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): he wants you folded up, your body tense, as he presses your knees to your chest and puts his weigh on you for example.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he can be playful, the kind of playful where you two are playfighting for example but would much prefer hear you moan during sex rather than laugh.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): he probably doesn't care much for shaving anything, he isn't that hairy and sees no point in it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): not very romantic, he is definitely smooth and awfully cocky with his words, calling you names and giving you the exact amount of attention and teasing to make you want him, but he isn't exactly romantic.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): i think he wouldn't find much pleasure into jacking off, would prefer much more having a body beneath or above him rather than pitifully have to deal with his needs himself. //i don’t think Rhaast would be very pleased on this either

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): sadomasochism, dirty talking, knife play, blood play, choking etc

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): he is not particularly picky with where he is willing to have you, he only needs the cover of shadows, he is always ready to pull you into a corner and you better be quiet.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): challenging him in any way, it’s the excitement of having to conquer you all over again, he wants someone with fire to truly enjoy himself.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): can't see him as being unwilling to at least try some things, with the right person it all works for him.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): he has an awfully skilled tongue for someone that wants you to earn him going down on you. obviously prefers when you are between his legs , his hand fisted through your hair promising to return the favour in earnest if you let him finish down your throat.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): fast and rough he wants your legs wobbling when he is done with you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): most of your encounters are quickies, he'll come seek you out throughout the day or right before you are about to fall asleep.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): very into risk taking and needs someone that can match him in this aspect.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): //Rhaast takes over when he gets tired

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): he is very selfish in this aspect, wants you to think of him and only him and to use him and only him. doesn’t he fuck you properly or are you just that horny that you can’t get sated by just him, how naughty.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): absolutely ,he wants to have you frustrated, he wants this power trip of having you beg for him or cussing him out because he is making you feel like this.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): for someone who works so much in the shadows, he sure is loud, his moans are also very whiney ,his voice cracking the closer to finishing he gets.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): he is a total bratty switch with the right person, sometimes he just needs someone to take control from him and make him forget the darkin and all the bloodshed. //spreading my propaganda one league of legends man at a time

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): his cock is very pretty, a nice and pleasing average ,a bit on the longer side.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): when he has a goal in mind ,he will achieve it no matter what, the same goes for his needs, if he wants you, he will come get you, usually after a successful battle when his blood still runs hot.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): I can't really see him as someone that stays the night, the night is where he is the most active so he'll give you a passionate kiss to make sure you are thinking of him all day and leave with the promise of being back and to not miss him too much.

[grandlinedreams]

hello!! I've been reading your law works recently, and I absolutely love the way you write him- you just capture his character so well :,)

hopefully it's not too much to ask, but can you write about law/reader soulmate au? I don't have anything too specific in mind because i'm really not too good with making prompts 😔

maybe a bit angsty though? I would also prefer if it was in the canon setting, but modern au would be fine too :)

Thank you in advance!!

OH I'M A SUCKER FOR SOULMATE AUS as I've said before I think dkdjs my brain's still booting up for the day but absolutely!! Couldn't resist adding the quote I was thinking about yesterday because Law is so Kaz Brekker coded istg

[Heads up!: talk of soulmates/red string of fate, little bit of angst, fluff, the 'fell first vs fell harder' trope]

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

The question makes Law pause where he's in the middle of reading about a blood-borne pathogen, looking up and over. Splayed out over his bed with your own book in your hand, you stare back. He frowns.

"Why are you asking?"

You shrug. "It's in this book," you say, "It's talking about how there's different ways to look at it. If they're two pieces of the same soul just separated and always trying to make it back to each other, or if something called a string of fate ties them together."

Law makes a noise in the back of his throat. "That sounds ridiculous."

"So you don't believe in them?"

"No." He watches you for a moment, studying you. "Do you?"

You hum, lifting one of your hands and focusing on your pinky. You can almost see it, the neat knot of red tied around the knuckle, string that loops and weaves aimlessly through the air. If such a thing exists, you wonder where it leads, then about where you wish it would.

"No," you answer at last, "I suppose I don't."

ㅡ

If Law lets himself think about fate tying you to him with red string, it's far less romantic. But there must be something that keeps you in his orbit, silent pull to bind you to him.

It scares him. Scares him for how badly he wants to let you in, expose soft underbelly and trust you won't sink your teeth in and rip it all apart.

The push and pull is how he copes with it even though he knows it's unfair to you ㅡ taunts you with what could be, then pushes you away. Open and shut, over and over.

You're tired of it, he knows that. So he apologizes, not sure what exactly he's sorry for. Sorry that he only knows how to take and less how to give, that he only knows how to lose.

You understand that. He knows, you've told him before. But even you have your limits. "I will have you without armor, Law," you tell him, "or I will not have you at all."

He knows it isn't fair to you. But he wishes things were different, that he were different ㅡ and that when he lets himself think about that red string, it wasn't wrapped around your throat.

ㅡ

Law's emotions are a house of cards and his defenses a glass house ㅡ and all it takes for both to crumble is, of course, almost losing you.

It's through no fault of his own, but he still feels sick as he dabs at the blood threatening to drip down into your eye.

"What you did was beyond reckless," he scolds sharply, wraps soft worry in barbed wire, "if you'd stuck to the damn plan, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"Sometimes you have to improvise." He gets the feeling you're not just talking about the situation at hand, but he doesn't care to analyze it at the moment.

"Whatever. You sound like that idiot Strawhat." He wants to keep scolding you, hammer home just how dumb you've been ㅡ but you're watching him, and the thin rubberband of his patience snaps.

The kiss is far from gentle. It's messy and clumsy, tastes a little like blood and gunpowder, but that hardly matters when you're kissing him back with the same kind of desperation.

ㅡ

Law doesn't put much weight in the idea of soulmates. It's a romantic connection at best and baseless for proof at worst, straddling somewhere in the middle.

But he supposes he does like the idea that you've always been meant for him, and he for you ㅡ that orbit gets easier to accept when he puts it that way. Or perhaps the atoms that make the two of you up have simply existed together for long enough in the grand scheme of things to echo through, even now.

You laugh when he tells you that, reaching to tug at a lock of his unruly hair. "Putting a scientific spin on it takes the romance out of it, Law."

His eyes flick to your lips and back. "Does it matter?"

Your expression turns thoughtful. "No, I suppose it doesn't." If you want to say more, Law doesn't know because he leans in to kiss you.

Be that you're a soul split in half trying to reunite or truly woven together by a thin red string, Law doesn't know.

What he does know is that you're in his bed, kissing him back, and that's all that matters.

[pavlovianfuckery]

it was meant to be a joke but it spiralled

A/N: Re-uploading all my fics after having a slight mental breakdown and deleting everything so this is kind of old, but bone apple tea and all that anyway

AO3

The Master-masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Summary: Literally just Dream being eaten out, fingered and pegged, that's all there is. I'm welcome and you're sorry

Pairing: Dream/F!Reader

Notes: Pegging, rimming, fingering, no use of y/n

Length: 2900~ words

You rarely see each other in the waking world, and at first, you worry that something might be amiss to warrant him leaving the Dreaming. The restlessness coming off of him in waves doesn't help. Even as he kisses you he seems different from usual, holding on to you like he can't get close enough. 

"What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

His answer is muffled against your skin as he nuzzles your neck, still seeking contact.

"Would you have me?"

"What does that even mean?" You frown, confused, "You don't need to ask every time you want to have sex."

"You misunderstand," he sighs, unwilling to elaborate further.

"Then what do you mean? I'm not a mind reader, you know."

You've never seen him act anything even approaching coy before, but you suppose there's a first time for everything. It's only a second or two, but he still chooses his next words carefully, not meeting your gaze fully as he speaks.

"I want you to possess me, as I have possessed you. I am yours to do with what you will." His expression is more open than you ever recall seeing, vulnerable and wanting. You're not entirely sure how to respond to that, and your hesitance is enough to pull a single word from him, dragging it out of him like a fishhook stuck in his throat; "Please."

The way he says it makes your heart flutter and you sit down on the bed, maybe a bit more heavily than you intended.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd love to!" You assure him, trying to keep your voice steady."But why? What brought this on?"

"Do I need a reason for wanting to give myself to you?" He takes your hand in his and gives it a soft squeeze. "You are my lover, is that not reason enough?"

"That's...fair, I suppose."

He presses his lips to yours, the kiss almost chaste. It soon deepens as he leans into you, unashamedly hungry. Not content with kissing he takes you by surprise by simply climbing onto your lap, straddling your thighs, burgeoning erection obvious as he presses close, almost desperate for contact. The weight of him isn't unpleasant, but he can't exactly stay like that, so when he eventually comes up for air you poke him gently in the ribs to make him move.

"Go on then," It's hard to keep your voice serious because he's just adorable like this, but you try anyway. "Strip for me."

You don't need to tell him twice. The way he undresses is unhurried but to the point, with no teasing or tricks, his gaze fixed on you the entire time. Everything from how he shrugs off his coat to the way he shimmies out of his tight jeans makes him almost seem human. When the last garment hits the floor he wastes no time, ending up back in your lap again. Even more insistent now, he barely gives you time to breathe as he captures your lips with his again, demanding. Struggling to stay still he grinds himself against you, leaving a wet spot on your tank top. Being responsive in bed is nothing new for him, but this is something different, and you intend to enjoy it as much as you can while it lasts.

Gathering his hair in one hand you give it a soft pull, making him gasp and bare his throat, and you can't resist licking one long stripe all the way up his neck, nipping at his jaw.

"You're so beautiful," you sigh, placing a line of kisses from his collarbone back up to his ear, loving the way his breath catches as you bite his earlobe gently. "Have you done this before?"

"I do not see how that matters," he replies, dodging the question.

You try to be patient, but he's not making it easy.

"It matters because I don't want to hurt you."

"What makes you think you could harm me even if you tried?" He scoffs and presses a small kiss at the corner of your mouth, "I'll be quite all right, I assure you."

"But that doesn't mean you'd enjoy it, and I want you to feel good," you retort, resting your hands on his waist, thumbs trailing his hipbones softly. "Let me do this properly, or not at all."

Giving in with a small smirk, it's clear that he's only humoring you.

"Very well," he breathes the words against your lips, voice low. "Show me this "proper" way, then."

Feeling mischievous you simply lay back and drag him down with you, making him let out a startled little huff. He doesn't fight you though, even when you roll over until you're the one straddling him instead, his length rubbing against your still clothed folds. As you pull your tank top over your head, his inhuman eyes follow every move hungrily, glinting in the dim light. Dismounting for a moment you rifle through the bedside table until you find what you're looking for.The harness itself is fairly non-descript, the black leather plain but functional. The dildo itself is less so. It's a smooth, surprisingly non-phallic thing, average in size but with a graceful curve to it and a slightly wider head, fashioned from a brilliant blue silicone with a pearlescent sheen. Retrieving a bottle of lube as well, you place all three items on top of the bedside table, a show of intent. It doesn't seem to phase him though, his eyes soon back on you again as you pull your panties down and get back on the bed, where he grabs greedily at you. His breath catches as you drag your nails lightly down his abdomen, the skin reddening prettily.

"Turn over for me?"

There are a few seconds where you think he might refuse before he rolls over onto his stomach. He really is gorgeous, all whipcord muscle and sharp angles, not a mark or blemish anywhere. Mapping every inch of him with your hands is too hard to resist, and when you trail your teeth and tongue over every notch and dip in his spine, it leaves goosebumps in your wake. Excitement is buzzing in your bones, but it's a bad idea to rush these things. Testing the waters you plant a quick kiss on one soft buttcheek, and when that seems to go over well enough, another, more open-mouthed one. It's only a small shivery intake of breath and you might well have missed it, but it might be one of the most delicious sound you've heard him make, especially considering what he's going to let you do.

Palming his cheeks you knead them gently, dotting another kiss here and there. If his slightly uneven breathing is anything to go by, he seems to be enjoying it so far. Kissing your way up his body, you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Will you get on your hands and knees for me, love?"

That goes over decidedly less well.

"I will not," he bristles, an almost offended look on his face.

"Well, if we're going to do this, you're gonna have to trust me a little bit. I told you I want you to enjoy it, so I'll need to warm you up. Or have you changed your mind?"

"No."

"What's the problem, then?"

"I find the position...undignified."

Lord have mercy. You take a deep breath, trying to be patient.

"If that's the only issue, let's just do it differently? Because I'm not going to fuck you without preparing you first."

"No need to be so crude." He doesn't roll his eyes, but he might as well have. "This 'different way' of yours, then."

Laying down next to him, you tap your chest. "Come here. You've been on top of me before like this, so just...do it the other way around."

His face as realization dawns is truly a sight to see. It might not be a full-on blush, but it's something. There is a moment of hesitation, but in the end, he relents. In a way, he ends up on his hands and knees anyway, though he seems to have no problem with it this way around, funnily enough. Kneading his backside again you gently pull his cheeks apart.

"This okay?"

"...Yes."

Good enough. Keeping your tongue soft and pliant, you give his asshole a few tentative licks, pausing to see how he will react.

"You wicked creature," he gasps, not quite managing to keep his voice steady anymore, "Continue."

That's all the permission you need. Alternating between soft licks and gently running the tip of your tongue around his rim, it doesn't take very long before you can feel him relax, opening up to you. The rest of him is doing the opposite though, tense and almost shivering from the intimate touch. His breathing is loud in the small room as you slip the tip of your tongue slightly inside of him, making his thighs tremble. No longer needing to be quite so dainty about it, you redouble your efforts until he grabs onto your hips for support. As you slide your tongue in as far as it will go, the small sound he makes can only be described as a whimper, and you wish you could see his face right now. It's an almost dizzying sense of power, having the King Of Dreams on your tongue, letting you pick him apart like this. 

Once he's as relaxed as you can get him like this you give his asshole one last sloppy kiss before stroking your hands down his sides soothingly.

"You still good?"

"Yes." This time his answer comes out a bit choked, composure crumbling.

"Good. Need you to move for this next bit though."

Reluctantly he gets off of you, and you file the information away for later; the mighty Ruler of the Nightmare Realms enjoys getting his ass kissed, in every sense.

As he lays down next to you there is a hint of a flush to his usually pale face.  When you reach for the bottle of lube, completely ignoring the rest of the equipment, his frustration is tangible.

"You try my patience," he murmurs, nipping at your shoulder lightly. "Further preparation will be wholly unnecessary."

"Bear with me a bit longer, will you?"

He gives you another small smile before pressing his plush lips to yours.

"I suppose I can indulge you for now, if it pleases you."

"It does." Slicking your fingers up you run your eyes over him, taking him in. He really is too pretty for his own good, all disheveled like this. "Spread your legs for me."

He actually does it without complaint, watching on propped elbows as you kneel between his bent legs. There is barely any resistance as you slowly sink a digit into him, and you can feel the faint thrum of his heartbeat around your finger. Working it in and out a few times, you brush the pad of your finger tentatively over his prostate. You weren't sure if he'd even have one since he isn't exactly human, but repeating the motion makes his breathing go ragged, cock heavy and leaking.

"You like that?" Not waiting for an answer you do it again, making his eyes flutter shut as he nods unsteadily, jaw going just a bit slack.

Pulling out, you add a bit more lube, wanting to be thorough. Two fingers are a bit tougher, but not much. There is a definite blush on his face now, spreading down towards his chest. Increasing the pressure just a tiny bit has him gripping the sheets, knuckles nearly white.

"You're so damn lovely like this, you know that? You're fucking gorgeous, Dream."

You half expect some remark about your choice of words again, but the objection never comes. Briefly considering adding a third finger, you decide against it, since you plan to keep this gentle. Enjoying how responsive he is, you work him over a few minutes more until he's almost putty in your hands. Finally satisfied, you tap his knee to get his attention.

"Still with me?"

Meeting your eyes, his gaze has a glazed-over quality to it.

"Are you quite done teasing me?"

That's answer enough, you suppose, withdrawing from him for now.

"You still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes."

Reaching for the harness you assemble it quickly, slipping it on before settling back between his legs again. Leaning forward you pepper his chest with kisses, working your way up to his neck, unable to resist the urge to leave a lovebite there.

"Can I take you like this?"

"If it means that you will get on with it, yes." The words themselves might be teasing, but his voice is soft as he presses close, your faux cock rubbing up against his real one.

"Alright." You sit back again, adding another healthy dollop of lube, this time to the dildo itself. "I need you to put your legs up for me for a bit."

He complies easily enough, without any commentary even. Holding onto one of his legs for a bit of support you line yourself up, resting the smooth head against his entrance. It's very tempting to make him ask for it one last time, but you manage to refrain, instead slowly pressing into him. The way his eyes gleam as he watches you sheath yourself in him is making it very difficult to keep it slow, but you try nonetheless.

A few shallow thrusts has him groaning, precum dribbling from his cock as you fuck into him. Patience wearing thin he wraps his legs around your waist, grabbing at any part of you that he can reach. Not letting him pull you down straight away, you take a moment to drink him in, committing to memory the way his eyes go half-lidded as you slide into him.

He's still trying to rush you, though. Outright stealing a page from his own book you put your free hand against his sternum, gently holding him down the way he's done to you countless times. You half expect him to start fighting you in some way, but he doesn't. In fact, he leans into it, eyes going dark. Feeling bold, you move your hand up to his neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

"You need not treat me like some fragile thing," he rasps, and the way his adam's apple bobs under your grip as he speaks nearly drives you mad.

The way he words it makes it sound almost like a challenge. You won't take him up on it however, not this time. But you don't need to handle him with kid gloves either. Picking up the pace somewhat, it doesn't take very long to find an angle that makes him outright moan, gripping your hips.

"Is that good?" You can't help teasing him, just a little, but it takes every drop of self-control not to point out that he doesn't exactly look very dignified while getting fucked, since that seems to be a bit of a sore point. He really does look delicious like this though, eyes shining as he looks up at you through dark lashes.

"Yes." The word is a drawn out wavering thing, unsteady as it falls from his mouth. 

Curious to see what other noises he might make, you do your best to keep going, your own pleasure entirely forgotten, every shred of attention on him. Even at a fairly leisurely pace, it's quite a workout though, and you don't know how much longer you'll be able to keep it up. Eventually, it feels like every muscle in your body is burning, and even though you don't want it to end yet, you're only human.

"Can you come like this, you think? Or I can touch you, if you want."

He looks on the verge of falling apart, unable to stay still, his grip on you nearing bruising. Overstimulated to the point of tears he doesn't speak, just fumbles for your free hand, placing it on his neglected cock. It doesn't take much to bring him off, just a few gentle tugs. 

His moans have an almost strangled sound to them as he spills all over himself, coating your hand as he strains against you, hips bucking. Your aim had been to wring every possible drop out of him, and it seems like you might not have been far off. Flushed and out of breath he looks so completely and utterly debauched, hair wild and skin in a thin sheen of sweat, covered in come, some running down and gathering in the hollow of his collarbone.

As you slip from him as carefully as you can he pulls you down, and you don't fight him this time, uncaring of the mess as he clings to you. It feels like every fiber of your body is on fire but you can't help feeling a bit proud, all the same. Settling into his embrace you stroke his hair for a few minutes, content just to be close. Tightening his arms around you, he sighs deeply.

"I believe I...might have needed this," he admits, unprompted.

"In that case, haven't you forgotten something?" You ask, fingers tracing his jawline.

"...Thank you." He's clearly humoring you again, but that hardly matters at this point. "Do you wish for my mouth, or perhaps my fingers?"

You start assuring him that it's not really necessary, but he interrupts you.

"What kind of lover would I be if I denied you your release after being brought to my own?"

What kind of lover indeed.

⁂

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[kelcemenow]

As The Snow Falls - Chapter 5.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2629

Warnings Some angst, some mentions of controlling behaviour and past trauma, slight smut and strong language.

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

"So, what are you going to do?" Amie looked at you with wide eyes.

You held your stare on the view out of the large window, the trees dusted in crisp, white snow, "I have no clue."

Amie sighed before taking a sip of her coffee, "Isn't it funny? If you'd have just both told each other how you felt back then, this whole situation may not have even happened."

"Yes, I see the painful irony."

"Like, you two could've been a couple by now."

"Amie-"

She widened her eyes, "You could've been married to him!"

You looked up in frustration, "Alright, stop it!"

Amie shrugged her shoulders and sank down in her chair. You took a deep breath and stared into your mug, a small amount of milk froth swirling on top of the brown liquid. You liked Travis, you liked him a lot. His presence caused you excitement, almost making you feel like you were back in college with a crush again. There was undeniable chemistry between the both of you and a sexual tension that you could hardly stand but something was holding you back.

"You're worried about being hurt again, aren't you?"

"I'm always worried about being hurt again."

Amie tipped her head, leaning forward to reach for your hand, "You need to let that go. You're never going to truly move on and be happy if you don't."

You could feel a lump forming in your throat, "But what if he finds me again?" You whispered.

Amie shifted to the edge of her seat, "And what if he doesn't?"

"I could never bring that drama onto Travis, it's not fair. It's not worth the risk." Your voice trembled.

"What's up, bitches?" Jasmine shouted as she pranced over to the window.

You turned away slightly to avoid her gaze and Amie retreated from you, smiling at Jasmine, "Hey, what's up?"

"Travis is rich, right?"

Amie glared at Jasmine whilst you looked at her from the corner of your eye.

"What do you mean?" Amie questioned.

Jasmine settled into the spare armchair that was situated next to you, her hands running through her hair, "You know, he's rich. He's just won the Super...something. So, he's gonna have some money behind him. He's famous. Not my idea of famous, but sports famous."

You snorted a sarcastic laugh which attracted her attention.

"Look, I know, you two were having some kind of moment in the hot tub earlier but I was thinking of asking him out." She crossed her arms, "I just wanted to check whether it was worth my time?"

Amie's mouth gaped open as she listened and looked to you for your reaction.

You stayed silent, clenching your jaw as she continued.

"He's brutally hot, don't get me wrong, but I need more than that. I need someone who can...keep up with me and my lifestyle, you know, financially."

You pressed your lips together and furrowed your brows, holding your nerve and your tongue as much as you could.

"So, what do you guys think?" She glanced between you and Amie with expectant eyes.

Amie cleared her throat gently, "I think, maybe you should get to know him a little better? See if you two are compatible?"

Jasmine laughed, "Oh, please. I'm compatible with everyone." She stood up from the chair and turned to you, "Y/N, can you put in a good word for me? You two seem...close." She said with a smirk.

"Uhhh, y-yeah sure." You stuttered.

You both watched as she floated away, her hips swinging and her head turning, seemingly in search for Travis.

Amie leaned forward to you, whispering, "You're not going to actually do it, are you?"

You shrugged your shoulder, "Yeah. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"What kind of friend-? Are you kidding?" She hissed, "She has been vile lately. I mean, she's always been a bit...you know, but honestly, I think she's getting worse, Y/N. I can't believe you don't see it, she's walking all over you! Just like-"

"Just like Aaron did, is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes! He did and she's doing the same." Her face softened slightly, "I want you back, Y/N. I want the Y/N I know and love and became best friends with over three bottles of red wine and a Cup O Noodles!"

You exhaled a laugh and hung your head, "I'm still here...somewhere." Sighing, you rested back against the wall, "I didn't know if you had realised the date but it's been a year since I left him."

Amie nodded gently, "Yeah, I'd noticed but I didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"A whole year, and he's still looming over me. Every date I go on, every new city I move to, every time I just walk down the street, I'm still worried that he's there. I answered my front door for the first time without panicking last week and I almost broke down crying at how amazing it felt. That's not normal, Amie."

"It is for someone who has been through what you've been through."

You smiled meekly, "Even if it is, I'm tired of it." You looked around the room, "I'm just tired full stop. I think I'm going to have an early night."

"That's probably a good idea. You've got an early ski date in the morning." She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, stop it."

"What?" Amie laughed, "You told me you wanted to have an early ski in the morning and Travis apparently said the same thing. No reason you two can't go together?"

"I suppose so." You said as you rolled your eyes.

Amie giggled and reached across, pulling you in for a hug, "Just enjoy it. Relax...and see what happens."

You held your mug to your lips, hiding the growing smile of excitement on your face when Travis appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Ladies." He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer.

Amie stood up, smiling, "You'd best have your wits about you, Jasmine's on a hunt for you."

Travis quickly scanned the room, "What? Really?"

You pressed your lips together, "Yeah. She's set her sights on you and usually if Jasmine wants something, she gets it."

Travis laughed, "Well, she ain't getting me, man."

Amie threw her arm around Travis' shoulders, needing to lift up onto her tip toes to reach him, "It takes a brave man to deny the princess, I wish you all the luck in the world." She squeezed him before walking away.

Travis raised his eyebrows at you and turned on his heels, heading back upstairs with haste.

______________________________________________________________

You found yourself wide awake again, tossing and turning in bed as you struggled to find a comfortable sleeping position. Your stomach was churning and your mind was whirring with thoughts, mostly of Travis.

The gentle wind whistled through the trees and although the sound would usually ease you into a restful slumber, tonight it only mocked you and your inability to sleep at all.

Pulling the blanket away from your body, you felt the cool air wash over your skin and you sat up onto the edge of the bed. Your toes rested on the hardwood flooring and you rubbed your eyes roughly with the heels of your hands. Shaking your head, you stood up, heading straight for the bedroom door, your feet having no attempt to stay quiet. You quickly grasped the handle and pulled it down, opening the door and making your way down the corridor.

Your eyes strained to see in the dark and you held your hands out in front to guide you. When you reached the right door, you took a breath, your fist raising higher, a gentle knock alerting the person inside.

"Yeah?" Travis' muffled voice rang out through the door.

You quickly entered the room, pressing your back against the wood once you were inside. Your eyes fell onto Travis, relaxing in bed and scrolling through his phone. The sheets covered his body from the waist down, the fabric lightly draped across his legs. His bare chest made your knees slightly weak, his bulging arm muscles only making you worse.

He stared to you, dropping his phone to his side, "Y/N, is everything okay?"

You held onto the door behind you, "It is now." You breathed.

Travis raised an eyebrow, "I don't understand?"

"No, neither do I." You smiled and shook your head, "But as I was laid in bed just now, struggling to sleep...I realised that I just wanted to see you."

Travis' face lit up as he listened to your words.

"I always want to see you. I used to make sure I walked past the football field on my way to classes to double my chances of seeing you that day. After graduation, I made any excuse to go to back to Ohio just in case you were around. And I don't know why I'm telling you this-"

"I'm glad you are." Travis interrupted.

You pushed yourself from the door, taking a space on his bed, "No, but this is the thing. I have no idea what I want from this, I don't know. It would be so complicated-"

Travis shuffled closer to you, "It doesn't have to be."

"No, it would be. Because I am. I am complicated. My life...I've had some pretty fucked up things happen and I really don't want to drag you into it all."

Travis eye's flickered between yours, "I don't care, if it meant having you, bring it on." He reached out and held your hand in his.

You looked down at the bed and sighed, "I'm being serious, Travis. It's the reason I've moved around so much."

You paused as Travis stared intently, waiting patiently for you to open up to him.

"I...was with a guy. For a long time but slowly...slowly things didn't seem right anymore. He...he-"

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, or if you can't right now." Travis' soft voice soothed you, his gentle touch on your hand easing your growing worries.

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, taking a long breath. You wanted him to know, you wanted him to understand but your head was telling you that it was all too much, too soon.

You shook your head and looked back into Travis' caring gaze, "It's late, I should go back."

You looked into his eyes, your heartbeat rising into your throat as he licked his lips. You leaned forward as he did the same, pushing the sheets away from his legs. His scent surrounded you and your skin tingled with how close you were to him, his hand slowly moving up your arm.

"Y/N, you wanna stay here?"

You nodded, your breathing becoming heavier and heavier. Travis' eyes widened and both of his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body slightly closer to him. The room seemed to fade away and all you could hear was your own heartbeat as Travis slowly leaned in and laid his lips onto yours. You stayed still, allowing his mouth to move across yours with ease. Your eyes fluttered closed and you slowly tilted your head to the side, parting your lips and allowing the kiss to deepen. You felt his hand move up to the side of your face, his fingers tangled in your hair. The kiss was passionate, but gentle and soft. You inhaled, allowing your own hands to explore him. His buzzed hair, sharp facial hair, solid shoulders and warm chest sent your senses into overdrive, your hands dragging themselves down his body. Travis shifted on the bed, allowing you to turn yourself more so that you were facing him. His thumb ran across your cheek, your skin tingling with goose bumps. When he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes opened and settled onto you, his gaze darting around your facial features with adoration.

His bottom lip twitched for a second before he took a breath, "We can just...lie here if you want? If you want to get some sleep?"

You smiled and shook your head, "No, I don't want to sleep anymore."

Travis' eyebrows lowered, just enough for you to notice, a slight expression of confusion before his hand returned to your face. His lips connected with yours once again, but with some more pressure and passion than before. With one hand keeping your balance on the bed, you rotated yourself and laid down, pulling Travis on top of you. His frame loomed over you, slightly to one side and his right hand roamed your body. His fingers dug into your hips, grabbing at you roughly and desperately. You writhed underneath him as he shifted himself fully on top of you, using his knees to pull apart your legs. His mouth moved to your neck and you gasped for air once you were free from the kiss. Travis hummed against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh my God." Travis mumbled between kisses.

Your fingers ran up his bare back, "Are you sure about this?"

You waited for a response but Travis was too busy laying soft kisses down to your collarbone.

You tapped him lightly on his shoulder, "Like, are you sure this is what you want?"

His head lifted quickly, his mouth formed into a wide grin, "Are you kidding? This is all I've wanted!"

You smiled back at him, pulling his face to yours and as his arms slid underneath you, you wrapped your legs around his waist. His tongue slipped into your mouth, running it along your own and causing you to groan with pleasure. Something inside of you began to tighten, a burning sensation growing up into your chest. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel a wetness beginning to form on your pyjama shorts, Travis' hard mound pressing into you. One of Travis' hands roamed down to your ass, squeezing the firm but voluptuous flesh before sliding down to your thighs, his touch leaving goose bumps in their wake. His fingers danced at the hem of your shorts, gently lifting it and stroking your soft skin underneath.

You flinched as his touch grew closer to your slit and Travis quickly pulled away from you, studying your expression carefully.

"Are you okay?" He said, his voice thick with concern.

You nodded with closed eyes and cleared your throat, "Yeah, yeah...I'm fine. Sorry."

Travis lifted his chest away from you, his eyebrows furrowed, "Are you sure? We can stop if you want?"

You could feel your eyes moistening, "I...I'm sorry."

He stroked your hair gently before helping you to sit up, "No, no. You have nothing to be sorry for."

You sniffed and shook your head, "I want this, I really do."

"Hey, stop." He whispered, "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Your heart swelled as he spoke, his sweet and caring nature making you smile.

He tenderly pushed some hair behind your ear, his hand lingering at your cheek for a few seconds, "How about we just get some sleep? Apparently, I'm a pretty good big spoon?" He winked, followed by his classic charming smile.

The corners of your mouth curved upwards as you giggled, "Yeah, okay. Thank you, Travis."

He shifted himself over to your side as you laid back onto the bed, "It's okay. I got you."

His arm rested itself across your stomach before pulling you closer to him, the curves of your body fitting perfectly alongside him. You felt his lips lay a gentle kiss on your temple, his soft and steady breathing relaxing you completely as your chest began to rise and fall with his.

______________________________________________________________

I finally got it out! I'm sorry to everyone who has been waiting but I've had a very busy couple of weeks! This story has a couple of more episodes left in it and if I'm completely honest, I'm going to miss it! If you want to be added to my Taglist, please let me know and I will of course add you to it so you never miss another chapter!

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