#Like thinking about this makes me violently giddy

[moldy-flowers]

Breaking open your skull and kissing your brain lovingly this is so yummy i love it

Just. The image. Of everyone so confused. I imagine Sasuke especially caused a huge riot of confusion. Bc of Sasukes direct relation to the main family of the Uchiha. He just. Looks like a stereotype of an Uchiha. And he acts like one too. Hes the poster child of all that an Uchiha is. Also the lovely headcanon that he and Izuna are literally identical, the inly difference being Izunas got a ponytail and Sasuke is about... 6 years younger since this is a year b4 Izuna died. And then Tenzo with his wood release, and him also looking very much like Hashirama. So just,,, Madara + Izuna and Hashirama + Tobirama at their wits end trying to figure out where along the way they lost some obviously really important people of the clan and how a feral Hatake ended up adopting them and when they were adopted by a feral Hatake bc he looks very... young?? And its not like they can just take the very important people back because they don't belong to their clans anymore, and even if they did they're all like totally co-dependant on eachother and would die screaming and biting if they were taken away from one another. (Literally everyone they knew and loved are in a different timeline trapped in an eternal sleep none of them are okay (Sasuke is the least affected, Sakura is the most affected, he attempts to comfort her, it does NOT work they fall into a cycle of feeling worse and worse till Naruto talk-no-jutsu's them into being okay again))

Thinking about how Sai and Sakura would make a really cool duo bc nobody knows what they can do and they don't look special till Sai draws a dragon and it flys out of the parchment and spits hot ink on everybody, and Sakura. Just. Makes an earthquake. Plus Naruto and Sasuke, Naruto literally having Kurama and Sasuke having an ems which no one in the Uchiha clan actually has atp (Did they lose ANOTHER main family Uchiha huh???)I need a confrontation between Naruto and this timeline Kurama bc atp Kurama is still out in the open. Or bc Kurama and his siblings are beings of pure chakra maybe they just aren't affected by time, and suddenly are very quiet, and peaceful, not attacking anybody. They're just like, chilling out. Maybe they wander around (Kokuo is definitely like, sprinting back and forth in a huge field cause hes free and NOT dealing with any of this bullshit), trying to find out what the fuck happened and why someone hit an undo button on the last 100 years.

Most things I see of warring states era w/ Kakashi includes everyone being really pissed off at him bc stealing a clans signature jutsu, like the Sharingan, is specifically the one line that no one in the wars would ever cross, like Senju and Uchiha would work together to chase someone like that down and bring their demise. But in this au everyone's just chill with Kakashi cause he's already lost his eye, but they are not chill with Obito. Cause he's got pure white hair, his skin is like 50% white and he has sharingan. Even when he was a genin the clan like did not claim that boy 💀So Obito, who is not wearing anything remotely close to what an Uchiha would wear, does not have the straightfaced attitude of an Uchiha, his body language is completely different to that of an Uchiha and nobody in the group actually looks like they're from the same family, is extremely suspicious. And there's no way the Uchiha lost THREE whole people so that means Obito must be a dojutsu thief and he's gotta go‼️‼️

Uh whoops looks like I yapped a little bit mb lmao <3

This is mostly based on these three ideas I had circling in my little head please send help. 

Warring States Period - First Idea

Kaguya won in this timeline and only Team Seven survived, both past and present (Sakura, Naruto, Sai, Sasuke, Tenzo, Kakashi, and Obito (all in a total of seven :D)), and so they went into a new timeline as they used their last bit of Chakra to destroy their timeline so Kaguya will never escape and take over other dimensions 

Relationships 

ObKk because I somehow am in a toxic yaoi shipper cycle, god help

Sasuke and Sakura will stay together because I have a massive pin collection with amazing pins of these two so it made me biased

Naruto and Sai are without any partners since their timeline got fucked

Pray

Ok so let me go over some little details I like to have

Uchihas love so fucken deeply its not even funny so when their loved ones are threatened, all hell breaks loose,

Hatakes are a feral clan and while they are seen as “domestic” in modern times not so much in the Warring States, there are two reactions. One (stupid) people will try to fight them to scare them off (ha) or are scared to high heaven and back away from them

Hatakes have fangs and have habits like touching and calling their close ones pack and mate and pup if considered pack 

Yes all of his students are his pups and Tenzo is affectionately called a sapling once he realizes that is a THING for Senju’s to say to their young

Tenzo secretly loves it

But before he never said it out loud since, you know, trauma

Hatakes are territorial of their pack so if anyone messes with their pack when they can’t handle it you are going to wake up with your throat being ripped apart from Hatake teeth

Having a Hatake and Uchiha couple might be a pair made in shinobi heaven if I think in that sense

Fear them

Kakashi gives head pats like it is free candy

Everyone decided to have the Hatake clan symbol on them to place a barrier between them and other warring clans because no one likes to mess with Hatakes (only dumb people do, aka, the political greedy people)

Oh wait I found my plot!

Sakura is still considered a civilian during this time, with no family name or any of that sort since, back then, a civilian was too poor to have a last name, so she, alongside Sai, are now Hatake. 

Since Hatake’s have a pack mentality they do have the occasion of adopting outside their clan and giving their last name, however, there have been very few cases in which a clan outsider is adopted into the Hatake. Usually, this is issued to the clan head of that clan and things will get sorted out. But, because Sasuke, Naruto, and Tenzo are time travelers, no one knows of them nor are they official in the clan registry they don’t do that. 

 Bastard children if you will, and while it's possible for both Naruto and Tenzo that is going to be difficult to tell with Sasuke and Obito

So they decided not to use their last names in such situations unless officially asked if they were of [instert clan here] and just said they are by blood

After all, last names are a claim so they are careful to say they are a Uchiha, Uzumaki, or Senju

Do they claim them?

I mean no?????

Let's say no

They are blood-related but do not claim name, claim blood, not name. If named they are shipped to the clan’s compound and goodbye pack member. 

NOT ON KAKASHI’S WATCH

Ok so, timeline!

I’m gonna make it about maybe a year or more before the death of Inzuma

Just because I can and because tension is still there

But not THE tension if you know what I mean

I want Tobirama to feel like something is wrong with the Chakra signatures floating around but I want Hashirama to know first what the actual problem is with the forest warning him about a pack he should not cross

Why the forest?

Because they feel another person with the forest within them

Aka Tenzo

Case and point

They find Sasuke first by accident

It was a patrol of Senju who found him and immediately didn’t know what to do but they had to capture the thing because obviously it was a Uchiha

They corner him and they are about to catch him when the trees start to move

At first, they think it's their clan head who came to trap him 

But no

The branches are capturing THEM and leaving the Uchiha alone

So now they are confused

Confused they see a man with short chestnut hair come out from nowhere, take the Uchiha into his arms, and warns them that they shouldn't mess with a Hatake cub

And

Disappears

They promptly freak the fuck out

I'll add more later and edit more of my other two ideas cus I can. Nice to do a break on the dcxdp fandom not gonna lie.

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do 2. ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!daemon’s daughter reader

⋆˚࿔ read part 1 here ˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

summary: blood and cheese, where daemon [the best dad (satire)] also orders for his daughter smuggled back to him, violent aftermath

an: there is no brothel Aemond subplot involved

word count: 5.2k

warnings: blood and cheese, canon violence, violence, daddy issues being mocked, arguments, once again blood and cheese

The war was afoot, degeneracies increasing, treacherous plans and endless councils. Amidst all of that y/n still found time to pay Haelena a visit as frequently as she could. Both of them had found impeccable friends in each other and the twins were always a delight. Striding through the halls of red keep, prodding her head inside with a soft knock on the queen's doors which were wide open as it is, "look!" y/n entered with a wide smile on her face. Twirling around she showed Haelena the dress she wore, it was a dress Haelena had embroidered for her with special spiders and other custom animals. Haelena had remarked on y/n's elegantly plain dresses, the edges could all use embroidery and y/n was more than glad to let Haelena design on her dress. "You made it so much better, the small bugs in blue thread it’s so beautifully assembled-" before she could comment more on the beauty of her queen sister's embroidery she was there to showcase, y/n was under attack of her niece and nephew, "why good morrow to you two!" she giggled as the two tugged at her dress for consecutive raise-me-ups. 

"I am very glad!" Haelena said offering her a smile as she scanned those designs, Haelena was warmly elated that y/n chose to wore the dress she had embroidered and the fact that she let her do it in the first place.

"You must teach me your ways" y/n commented whilst actively engaging with jaehaerys and jaehaera, she couldn't carry both the babies at the same time but she was trying to entertain them regardless, the two were latched to their auntie's knees like monkeys.

"I could always make you more, save you the time!" Haelena offered instead, she tried to distract whichever one of the children with a toy but both were way too smitten with their ever so busy aunt, now that she had the council she spent supposedly lesser time with the twins.

"That too would be so convenient!" Y/n said, Jaehaera was raised on her back, making mischief with her aunt as she tried to close her eyes with her tiny hands from behind. Both the twins laughing as she did so, regardless y/n laughed along trying to maintain her balance the best.

"That is enough..." Haelena trailed off in amusement as she helped Jaehaera off of y/n's back. The babe did not let go before whining about it, jaehaerys still tugging at his aunt's dress to get her to bend down so he could talk.

"It's alright" let out a small chuckle y/n's attention was caught down to the little heir pulling at her dress, for her to bend to his level. "Yes little prince?" She asked, attentive to her nephew's whims and demands.

"You said you were going to read to me" Jaeherys reminded her in a rather witty sense, having a sense of one upping her since she forgot about it.

"Oh did I now?" She paused for a second trying to remember when exactly was the reading session arranged for.

"Yes! The-the one with the fox and the-crows...where you do the voice!" The little prince was soon to remind her of which exact story they had left off from. He liked it better when his auntie read it to him than the wet nurses or his mum because she often did those giddy voices and the stories she read in were more entertaining than the ones with septa.

"Gods I must have forgotten" she said in a somewhat melodramatic tone to make the child think she took their reading session as a serious matter, "I have got some work on my hands at the moment but I assure you I will come continue the story-"

"When!" Jaeherys whined with a sort of tired expression given the delay in his story.

"Tonight." She answered genuinely, "Right after dinner!"

"Do you promise?" He asked wanting to take her aunty's word for proper surety.

"I promise." She said holding his tiny hands in hers giving them a gentle squeeze to assure him of her promise. Kissing both her niece and nephew on the forehead as she stood up, in attempt to take her peace Haelena stopped her.

"Are you not afraid?" Asked her sister in law with a tense look on her face, like those times when she would be out of it. As if she spoke another language and saw other things. "When the stones call you back?"

"What...what stones?" She asked, at first y/n thought Haelena was referring to some palace. Could this be in correlation to something with the council, is what y/n presumed.

"The stones. They will call you back!" Haelena gripped her elbows tighter, to emphasise the gravity of the situation she felt. "They'll take you away!"

"Nobody is taking anyone away..." y/n trailed off, shaking her head slightly as she ran her hand down Haelena's in a soothing way. "We are all safe here and there is nothing to be scared of. I promise you. I am not going anywhere." She assured her. Y/n assumed that it would worry Haelena to lose the best friend she had in herself if she were to go back because of the war waging. In her father's name perhaps, her worry was not unsolicited but y/n was sure her father's was a house not hers that is even before her marriage with Aemond.

Haelena could never seem to get her point across for some reason, she couldn't digest her wearies in a coherent way herself so she nodded with a small smile. The restlessness still consistent within her as y/n took her leave. Ever since the intimate moment with Aemond, their relationship had grown rather awkward. Aemond was closed off as always, unable to convey his infatuation. Awkward in this area, the young lovers found it difficult to navigate through a conversation. Bristling fingers through glasses, stealing glances, speaking out their love in small gestures.

That did not account for the fact that the council matters too seeped into the newlywed's marital bliss phase. Aemond too had a seat now, on the king's word. He would attend those meetings and at times the two would have drastically counter opinions. His lady wife, she would sit in the same line of seats after the hand and his mother. Speaking their minds against him, just as they had intended for her. A council within the council. "All you do is account for grand sire and mother, no such thoughts of your own. A mere puppet." Aemond scoffed as they were currently in a conversation in their chambers reflecting to that day's council meeting.

The day was at its end and as was y/n, end of her wits. His bickering was just what she needed, "And you?" she said in a tone more accusatory than his, rightfully so "all you add to the discussions is the warpath Ser Criston weaves."

"I stand for it, you just chew out what the council within the council spews" he scoffed, coming out harsher than intended but now this had become usual."I know you informed the hand of my meetings with Cole."

"Didn't do it as a snitch, had you asked me I would have told you I informed the hand." Y/n said trying to counter his condescending remarks. She wasn't a 'puppet' how he implied "Just because I do not agree with you doesn't make me a puppet to those with better judgment than yours."

"Better judgment than mine?" He let out a low huff finding it absurd that she believed Otto and his mother had a better judgment over the war than his, "you think writing to other castles, pleading, awaiting their help whilst we have three large dragons is a better judgement?"

"And what? What do you plan to do with the dragons? Burn all those against us?" She asked him growing agitated having this conversation again, "You are in favour of a lot of unnecessary bloodshed-"

"It is necessary. To make an example, to lay out a path." Aemond interrupted her, taking in a small breath "Raise your banners or watch them burn. This is what the blacks are already set to implement whilst we sit hand on hand sending out messengers!"

"You want to create a sense of fright! That is all you will accomplish with burning houses." She said in an assertive tone as she crossed her arms. This is what Ser Criston had told him too, the words struck him a small remembrance.

"Are you eavesdropping my meetings with Cole?" He questioned, as the reference resembled similar words to Cole's. Cole didn't exactly have the same notion as his wife but the words were vaguely same.

"You sit right across this room" she gestured to the adjoining room after their bedchamber. The small opening after their room led to the table against the wall where Cole and Aemond had their meetings, "The meetings you have after you assume I'm asleep, as it is too loud enough for me to not eavesdrop or be able to sleep."

"Of course" he couldn't help but roll his eyes, "You must have told the hand about it word for word yes? Like a parrot"

"Don't think of yourself too highly, your conversations are rather predictable even to those who aren't present" she replied. He wasn't wrong that she informed the hand about it but she took accountability for that.

"At least my conversations hold a spine" in two strides he reached the table she was leaning on to pour himself a glass of wine, "Unlike yours, but well that is what was intended for you" he shrugged.

For a moment, y/n sighed shutting her eyes "What are you implying?" She asked trying to maintain a calm composure because she was aware he would have words that would make antagonise her.

"You know, why you are in the council in the first place" he said in casual harshness. "Otto needed someone to voice his opinions like the righteous little lady that you are."

"I am on the council because of the seat I have inherited through my father." Y/n referred to the original conversation for her being on the council, he wasn't even part of that decision yet acted like he knew better than anyone. Smugly sipping his wine as he set his cup aside, the inherent smirk on his face irritated her to no end.

"You are claiming the father's seat who didn't even want to claim you?" He scoffed, Aemond could attest for the fact that he did not hate her in full surety. Rather fond of her too, but he was fond of his lady wife. The soft lover he did not knew he needed, big eyes that held love for everything they were laid upon. Tenderness and warmth seeping out the cracks of her which would mend the hollow cracks in him but it was the council member in her, otto's silent weapon which he could not stand.

In the process of wanting to get back at righteous council member he couldn't stand he truly hurt the daughter that begged for her world to sun, tears brimmed her eyes and she could not help it. She struck him across the face, the nerve of him. Shattered the home she thought she might finally have. He simply flinched at her action, his eyes widened a bit not at her gesture but at her tears. Registering her tears before the slap she landed her, at loss of words. "Leave." She spoke with a shuddered breath, couldn't even meet his eyes. Feeling stripped of the hope and pride she spent days building. Y/n had never raised a hand to anyone, that didn’t exactly harm Aemond in any way still the gesture in itself made her feel ugly after a moment’s silence marinated the interaction.

Without saying a word Aemond did leave, he didn't want to retaliate with her in any way. Because in that very moment both of them took a misstep and he did not want that moment to last longer. In a few strides he was out of their chambers. Y/n gripped the table to steady herself as the tears streamed down her face, a restlessness made home within her chest as she took heavy breaths.

The weight of all her despair was so heavy, at times she would just shut them in case and shove them deep inside her heart and inside her mind so she wouldn't have to face them in retrospect. It all just felt so inescapable, how she begged to be her father's daughter and how she was rejected the whole time. Now, farther away from him, bit by bit being at peace with the people she now surrounded herself with. Even in such state of distress she didn't feel alone any longer, she even felt loved. As far stretched as it sounded she even felt at ease with Aemond and he shattered all of it with just one sentence.

She lost the track of time since the moments of Aemond walking out as she just stood there falling apart, but when she felt some footsteps behind her she wiped her tears trying to compose herself. If there was anything she learned from her father it was that, nobody ever cared how much you fall apart so don't give them a reason to hold against you. Daemon always hated weeping children. Quickly she wiped her tears, she wouldn't want Aemond to think of her weak in these times. With a deep sigh she turned to face the footsteps she assumed was Aemond.

Apparently it wasn't. "Yes?" She asked with furrowed brows to the stranger who just walked into the room, not even a knock or an announcement like the guards or servants. The man wasn't even dressed like a guard or a servant. She stood alarmed taking a step further into the table as the man forwarded towards here without a word. "Guard-" she tried to yell as loud as she could but the man grabbed her head in a swift motion and shoved her into the table's edge. As if to knock her unconscious.

"Not another word or I kill you." Blood said with his hands around her neck, about to choke her as she struggled against him. Trying to grasp against his hands on her, trying to suffocate her she kicked her legs. Tried to scream regardless of his warning. With an extreme distaste for her, obviously, in blood's eyes the princess wasn't even worth so much and too much trouble to smuggle out. "Your daddy wants you back."

-

By the time the guards did find the princess, in the hallways, she was already half unconscious. Immediately rescued into the safest place in the keep, the council. Retrieved but not at all unharmed. The council was already set into course for the subject of the young prince when Larys walked in with y/n. He had previously informed her of what had happened with her nephew, his passing it hadn't really struck her yet given she could barely process all that had happened.

Queen alicent gasped as she stood up quickly running to y/n's side, all the bruises on her face, open cuts and bleeding out the torn sleeves in her dress. "Gods..." she exclaimed in horror as she helped her onto her seat. "What happened to her?" She asked Lord Larys.

"The guards found the intruder, trying to smuggle the princess out of the keep. A gold cloak known for his brutal nature, found with her, having inflicted his brutality upon her and...the prince's head, in a sack." He briefed the council as they all listened to him, everyone else but the king at loss of words. As Lord Larys left alicent was still tending to y/n, cooing at her, she seemed to be in a half conscious state.

"I am alright" she muttered to her mother in law as Alicent nodded but held her hand in hers to provide her whatever consolation she could. Just the sight of having suffered such assault sent the queen into a huge distress. Weakly holding her hand back as if to steady herself into this nightmare. When Lord Larys told her of Jahaerys's tragedy she did not believe it at all. She was confidently positive there must be some mistake in his information because that would not be possible at all.

If it wasn't for Aegon screeching in the background, y/n couldn't make out if she was actually awake in this very moment. The ringing in her ears still hadn't gone out and she wished that she would perish with that same ringing if it were to happen because living through this seemed so difficult. No way to navigate, circumstance so heavy she felt paralysed to meet anyone's face. Aegon was screeching as he wept for his son, blind with rage to kill the man found guilty for the crime. The member advised otherwise saying the king has a lot of enemies and they don't know for sure whose hand it could be.

"I suppose you are right..." Aegon trailed off slowly pacing down the table back to his seat, with an accusatory demeanour towards everyone else "it could be anyone of you, in this room."

A small silence fell, strengthening the tension and grief in the room as y/n just stared at the empty seat beside her. That very morning, just the day prior, where her nephew sat. Then Aemond after him, empty now. "It was Daemon." She declared of what she knew for sure, first time in her life she referred to Daemon with his first name instead of her father. After everything that he did, every misery she endured at the hands of her father, what happened now made her want to be distanced and foreign from him as much as she could. "His doing." She breathed and looked at the council, the drained colour on everyone's face she just registered-it was blinding her. "The man—the gold cloak" she continue, "trying to get a hold of me, h-he—he said 'your daddy wants you back.'" Repeating the words sent a chill down her spine as if she was in that very moment again, she still felt those hands on her, suffocating and heavy. A disgusting play in the mix. “That man came here, on Daemon’s order.”

The rest were comprehending that still, how a man could be so crude not only killing a child but having his own assaulted and kidnapped back home like this? " In one sense, as we determine what happened and...if we in the keep are still in peril. In another sense of course...it doesn't matter." Otto said and looked at Y/n. The princess surely did not seem to understand the hand's implication.

However Lord Tyland did so, "You mean to blame Rhaenyra." He said in a beat. "Tell the realm she had done this." Tyland spoke out Otto's implication.

"I'll have the realm told nothing! We were assaulted within our own walls, within our own beds!" Aegon spoke up almost immediately "Y/n, my brother's wife! The fucking princess almost beaten unconscious—being smuggled out?" He emphasised on the word brother, enraged even for his sister in law and the lack of his brother's presence when it must have mattered the most. "I will not be seen as weak!"

"You are already seen as weak aegon." Otto replied once again sending the king into a manic breakdown as he threw around more cups and vases. Otto theorised about how important it was to name Rhaenyra as a cruel person. Killer of infants, despite of whose direct orders those were. The narrative would be what they made.

"You would change, the blood that is on daemon's hand just to spite Rhaenyra." Y/n questioned, red eyes and characteristically on the verge of tears since she walked in here. Alicent found it so hard to look at her face, the cuts and bruises, poor thing. The heavy torment inside her head must be unimaginable, Alicent thought whilst holding y/n's hand a bit tighter. It felt like one of those moments when she was just a child, so many years ago. She would recall, the girl child was such a loner, always speaking in short words that is if spoken to. The shy little girl, who would just sit in a corner and colour or read. So much like her Aemond yet so different. When they would be in public settings, too many people, she would meekly hold Alicent's hand. Amongst all those unfamiliar faces. Little y/n just deemed Alicent familiar, comfortable. What was so wholesome years ago held such horror now. Alicent holding the lady's hand to provide her comfort her words won't be able to, the protection she could not. "Why won't you paint that man for the monster that he is?!" Y/n spoke as her voice broke, it felt unfair. Daemon not being held accountable yet again.

"Because, Daemon isn't the pretender to the throne. He would be the king consort. Banners are being declared for Rhaenyra, not in his name." Otto explained, to his preference narrative was just a useful toy. One name here or there did not make a difference.

"That is unfair." She said shaking her head, tears brimmed her eyes, taking in short breaths. In all these council meetings she did not speak up against Otto considering him respectable and more learned yet today, "how can you keep on accounting for him...again and again?!" Y/n asked but she was begging in agony. "Y-You were here. Always present. And you never did anything—all his heinous crimes! You always had the opportunity to hold him responsible and you did nothing!" She exclaimed, not being able to help herself as she thought back to a conversation at this very table. A conversation she must not have been there for, but the hand would have.

"It is perhaps your shock and grief speaking for you." Otto replied, not moved by the young lady's accusations at all. "I for one, do not understand your place of reference"

"When he murdered my mother!" Y/n said, growing more and more restless with her speech. Otto must be right, it was all the piled up grief inside of her speaking for her in this very moment but she could not let the monster that was her father be off the hook again, "You could've held a proper council, had him pay for what he did and we wouldn't be seeing this day today! We have that chance now and yet again you would rather Rhaenyra take the blame for his barbarism!"

Otto felt silent for a moment, the girl's rage was justified to the extent of him having no answer for her but he knew to trust his wit more, "I cannot undo...my regrets. I assure you I hold a lot of remorse in having a part in letting daemon go from daemon to the rogue prince and now this...monster. But if we don't do this, he would become king consort. The word consort is a feeble adjective." What he said was supposed to make sense to y/n but she could not see past the rage and need for vengeance she held against her father. Looking away, she wiped her tears. "A funeral progress. Let them see the child. Let them look upon the works of this pretender to the throne." Otto proposed once y/n was assuming-ly settled.

"Father" Alicent said with weary and concerned eyes, such tragedy being shouted out as a public funeral procession sounded so vain.

"My king..." Otto waited for Aegon's presumedly understood voice.

"No..." Aegon answered firmly "I will not have my little son's body dragged through the street like a dead dog." As he said that y/n felt nearly faint. To this very moment she did not accept that the child had passed.

"Not dragged, honoured." Otto corrected. "Escorted to the dragon pits to be burned as a Targaryen prince!" Otto went on and on about how he loved his grandson, his heart was in the right place with the grief yet the path he set was in accordance with the warpath. Just plots and schemes. Falling silent, paralysed y/n looked down to her lap. She refused to even register this conversation because it meant registering the fact that a darling child, Jahaerys...was gone.

Aegon couldn't stomach this proposal which came as an already arranged firm announcement either, looking around the room nobody said a word against the hand's plan. "You would say nothing?!" He demanded of y/n, why won't somebody help this mad notion. "Your dear nephew, have you nothing to add?" He was almost begging, hoping she would get the hand to change his mind for this funeral procession. She didn't, y/n just looked up at Aegon and then Alicent, tears in her eyes which just didn't seem to stop flowing. "Mother." Aegon called out when y/n couldn't speak up.

Leaving y/n's side Alicent walk's up to aegon, "the hand sets a difficult path, my darling. But it might be the right one." She told her inconsolable soul.

"Let the silent sisters ready the prince for his final journey." Otto said without waiting a moment for the king or anyone to come forth with opposition "And riding behind him, his mother the queen, the princess and the queen dowager."

"No, I do not wish to be spectacle." Alicent opposed instantly, the weariness and fright in y/n's eyes speaking the same "Especially y/n, not in this state. She can barely talk-stand, she has been terrorised. You can't simply—"

"The realm must see the sorrow of the crown. A sorrow best expressed through its gentle souls." Otto said followed by alicent sighing, then he looked at the side to y/n, "We need to display our heavily victimised as well" he said, the bleeding wounds on her face seemed like little trophies of sympathy to Otto. "I think you'll all agree the king himself must be spared."

-

A deafening silence lingered within Aemond, he had been out, sharpening out his swords, practising. Fucking practising on jute bags when he should've been there. Y/n was in Alicent's chambers because she could not walk into her own, couldn't even take in the sight of it. The thrashed furniture, from her struggling against the intruding gold cloak. The...the sack. In which he had stored the boy's head. Where the man had placed it in her chamber, at the entrance, it had created a circular stain of blood. Jahaerys's blood. She could not even think about the room within those four walls without picturing the insidious crime. She sat on the floor against the bed, windows open and soft white light of the day seeping in yet to y/n it still felt like a night of hailstorm. She didn't even look up to the footsteps of the stride coming inside the room, Aemond. He walked to her, kneeling down to the floor to her level.

Aemond was drenched with so much guilt in his heart, he felt pathetic to even breathe the same air as his lady wife. She had her face turned away from him, he could just see the small cuts on her face, the torn dress, still seeping out dried blood, her weary stature. It was all mortifying in the first place. He was so livid, with himself, with the intruder. Even with Larys, who informed him about the happenings at the last. By the time he rushed back inside the council was already done with. He had nothing he could say to y/n, no way of consoling her either.

It's not as if she would want to be consoled by him too, the emotional support he would want to offer her walked out with him when he walked out after their fight the previous night. With the disturbing things that had happened with her, she had almost forgotten the words he said. She couldn't even remember why she was crying before it all, that sick with grief. Aemond gently held her chin, hesitantly afraid she would turn him away. She had every right to do so. She didn't move him away, had no energy to do so. His heart sank as he saw the blood streaked stitches, poorly done and most of her wounds left untreated. "Why are these open?" He asked her softly, referring to her wounds, "Where are the maesters?"

"The hand, has asked for these to be left raw as they were planted." Y/n briefed him, her voice was so wavering, all that crying. "He means for them to be displayed for the funeral procession...so the realm can see" y/n scoffed softly as she repeated otto's exact words.

"You don't have to go." Aemond told her in a firm way, sure that he could get the hand to change his mind whether he liked it or not because y/n's comfort was his priority.

"No..." she trailed off, in agreement refraining to look at him her voice held no emotion. "But I do. I have to." She continued "Wouldn't want Haelena to be alone"

"Mother would be with her." Aemond added taking her hands in his softly, finally getting her to react to his presence as she looked down upon his gesture. Apparently to take her hands out of his grasp.

"But then I would be alone here..." She trailed off, a hint of frustration and fright in her tone. "I don't want to be alone."

"I would be with you, y/n." Aemond cooed softly fixing the loose strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear as he leant forward. “You won’t be alone.”

"I find myself unable to put faith in you, Aemond." She breathed looking down, she felt like a cornered animal, just so scared and full of distrust. "...in your assurance. I'd rather not."

Aemond had nothing he could say to that. She did not trust the integrity of his principles and rightfully so. He knew he had broken that trust of security within her. "My heart, I apologise for the distress I have caused you. I did not mean any of it" he told her but the heaviness in his heart told him his words would change nothing. She couldn't talk either, bursting into tears and her stitches seemed to hurt because her face moved but she was so much numbed to the physical pain in comparison to how she felt inside. Aemond could just offer her his embrace in this time and that is what he did. Enlacing her into her arms, rubbing her back in soothing circles her let her cry into his chest. "They will pay for this." He muttered softly as he continued to hold her. Even with the pain he made her feel, the distrust and hurt she felt just in seeing Aemond could not let her turn away the familiarity of his comfort. His was the only comfort she had ever known.

-

Once again clarifying that the brothel subplot is absolutely NON EXISTENT in this fic Aemond Targaryen is a lot of things but not a cheater <333

Pls let know what you think about this + added to the tg list🫧

-

🏷️ @love-is-a-dagger @daddzawa @1109002 @void21 @annedub @teapartydreams @batmans-love @ih8books @oopsdownloadedrumblragain-blog @aemondwhoresworld @unsweetenedpeatea @immyowndefender @aleemendoza2425-blog @vane282-blog @atargaryenlover @targaryenswhxre @sabii5 @vibescanner @darylandbethfanforever9

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) masterlist

-

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether. 

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious. 

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection. 

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it. 

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention. 

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction. 

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly. 

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home. 

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive. 

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything. 

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious. 

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel. 

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that. 

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends. 

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up. 

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked. 

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent. 

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug. 

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny. 

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning. 

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away. 

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him. 

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically. 

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room. 

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him. 

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare. 

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes. 

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched. 

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?” 

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting. 

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side. 

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life. 

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything. 

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench. 

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes. 

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank. 

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word. 

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one. 

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat. 

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.” 

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll. 

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building. 

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face. 

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in. 

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand. 

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet. 

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

[sandwhitches]

hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)

a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you

content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot

wc: 1.5k

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love. 

To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him. 

Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.

There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).

“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?

Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?

He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you. 

This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.

His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?” 

A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?” 

Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again. 

Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you. 

That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.

Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.

 “Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.

“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”

It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.

After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?

Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do. 

How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that. 

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.

“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.

Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?” 

Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is. 

Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say. 

“Well,” Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession. 

“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.

“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”

“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said. 

Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression. 

“That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.

“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.

“Cool.”

[dancingdonatello]

2012 boys with a reader who likes hearing them churr? Will purposely do things to make their turtle churr or pull them off to a more private area to cuddle with them and just exist- the fluffy stuff? :3

Bonus points for if the turtles were nervous to make the more turtly noises in case the reader thought they were weird- but in reality we just melt at the cuteness of it and just think our turtle boy is comfortable with us??

Love your writing! Hope your having a lovely timezone :]

2012 tmnt x reader

“Please?” You prodded Leo in the side. He gave you a tense look.

“No.”

“Come on, it’s not as weird as you make it out to be!” You scooted further into his side, looking up at him. “Nobody’s here either. Just you and me. Please? You know you wanna…”

He looked around, flushing darkly. “I don’t know why you like it so much.” You pressed an ear to his plastron, giggling when you could faintly hear the noise. You could more feel it than heat it.

“Cause it means you’re happy or that you like me so much, I don’t know.” You listened to it gradually grow in volume, grinning happily. He slowly started to relax, probably with how you pressed so much weight into him that you forced his shell to the couch cushions. You laid on his plastron, tracing patterns into it as you listened to the stuttering engine noise.

Raph rolled his eyes violently as you dragged him into his room. You stared up at him with expectant eyes and when he looked back at you blankly, you tackled him into his bed.

“Raph, don’t you want to make me happy?” you pouted, nuzzling in under his chin. He laid stiffly below you, gritting his teeth. You giggled as he struggled to stifle it in his chest. “Raphie.”

“Shut up.” He gave up and let the noise start up, staring up at his ceiling as you squeaked happily. How stupid things like the turtle noises he could make made you so happy confused him but whatever.

“Doesn’t it feel better to not hold it in?” That was definitely not how it worked but he stayed silent, besides the churrs.

Donnie rubbed his chin over the top of your head, his churring quiet but constant. You had been on his lap for the past few minutes, lazily scrolling on your phone. All it had taken was you petting over his scales and he started churring. He ignored your smug look and looked away.

You’d always try to embarrass him in front of his brothers by messing around and petting him of all things. All that just to hear him churr because you were convinced it was as cute as a pure from a cat.

He didn’t have the heart to inform you that churring didn’t always mean a turtle was just happy. He didn’t want to make it even more embarrassing for himself or his brothers.

It didn’t take a lot to get Mikey to churr. If you smiled at him, he churred. If you brushed hands, he churred. Even asleep, when you crawled into his bed, he would churr unconsciously at the feeling of you next to him.

Even if he was embarrassed about it, he couldn’t stop it. He could never push it down like his brothers could. He’d run away when it kickstarted up and you’d chase after him with a giddy grin.

He couldn’t talk either when churring. It’s definitely one way to shut him up.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Ok, I just read your sweet yandere post and would like to add something.

I love the idea of like a mafia boss yandere or someone who is usually cruel (like maybe a Hades sort of character) but is an absolute sweet heart to their darling. One of my fave tropes

OOOOOOH I LOVE THIS TROPE! I have a character who's just like this actually, a total sweetheart to whoever he's with but has a very low tolerance for most other people.

Sorry, this is a long one lol

I'm gonna make headcanons now because you've inspired me lol.

(Banner/divider credit goes to @cafekitsune)!

Tw: Kidnapping, mentions of violence

Mafia boss! Charlie who is no stranger to violence. He's lived his entire life surrounded by it, in fact. Having a mafia boss for a father will do that to you, he guesses.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's spent his whole life working for the mafia, being trained to kill, smuggle, and deal ever since he was a child. He grew up living a life of crime, rising up the ranks (thanks to his father), before taking over as the boss when his father was killed by an unruly client.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's a cruel, ruthless man. He's killed dozens of people, injured many more, and runs his organization with an iron fist. He may be young, but he's learned enough to know that any show of trust, any display of kindness is a show of weakness, a show of vulnerability. He can't afford that, not when he's the head of the mafia, so he makes sure to make it so that no one will question or challenge his authority by any means necessary.

Mafia boss! Charlie who has very few real friends, keeping those he does have at an arm's length. He'd rather die than admit that he craves real relationships, that he desires to make genuine, true connections with others. But he can't, so he pushes his wants to the side, reminding himself that his only purpose is to keep his business running smoothly, nothing more.

Until he sees you, that is.

Mafia boss! Charlie who meets you out on a grocery run one day. Your interaction is nothing special, at least to you, but Charlie can't help but marvel at how easily you make conversation with him while ringing up his items, how seemingly unfazed you are by his snappy attitude and unapproachable appearance. It's been a long, long time since he's met anyone unafraid of him, and those people are usually rivals who are too cocky for their own good. So this, this is new. He knows it's stupid, he knows that your tiny interaction shouldn't have mattered much to someone like him, but he can't help but feel giddy about the connection he's sure he felt.

Mafia boss! Charlie who, against his better judgment, wastes no time in trying to find out who you are. It's not hard, he has an entire organization full of trained trackers, stalkers, and informants at his disposal, and by the end of the day, he has your full name, address, social media accounts, family tree, medical records, and much more safely in his welcoming hands. He knows this is a bit overkill considering he only met you today and your interaction lasted five minutes at most, but now that he has a taste of real human interaction, he's addicted. He needs more.

Mafia boss! Charlie who quickly becomes awestruck and obsessed with you. His whole life, he's been surrounded by the craftiest, cruelest, most violent people imaginable, so to see someone, especially someone as precious as you, live a completely normal life, naive to the dangers he faces everyday? It's captivating! Of course, he can't follow you all day, he is a mafia boss after all, but he has enough people following you around and recording your every move that he doesn't need to! He's never been happier to be who his is than now.

Mafia boss! Charlie who thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world. You're a sweet little thing, too gentle and too unaware of the dangers around you for your own good. He loves everything about you, no matter how weird or embarrassing. He's content to watch you carefully for a couple months, but as time goes on, his need to feel our touch, to talk to you, to see you face to face is too much. He needs you. He needs you NOW. It doesn't help that you're so vulnerable and weak compared to him, with no knowledge of weaponry or stealth to keep you safe. What if someone were to try and hurt you? Of course, his goons wouldn't let that happen, not if they wanted to keep their organs, but he would feel so much better if he could keep an eye on you personally. Not to mention, every mafia boss needs a spouse, and some of his higher ranking associates have been hinting that it's about time he found someone...

Mafia boss! Charlie who immediately starts planning your "transfer" to his house, meticulously drafting out every last detail to secure your safety. He chooses his best, most skilled employees to carry out his plan, only the best for his darling, and sends them out to bring you "home". That day you come home from work, completely unaware of the people in your apartment, completely unaware of the sleeping pills dumped into your water while you weren't looking.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's ecstatic to finally have you with him, to finally have someone to hold, to talk to, to love. He brings your unconscious body to your new room, laying you softly on the bed while instructing his employees to pack up all your belongings and bring them to him. He doesn't tie you down or chain you up, he has enough security measures in place to make sure you won't be able to escape. You won't even be able to leave your room without him being notified.

Mafia boss! Charlie who watches the camera in your room as you wake up for the first time in your new home, confused and disoriented. All of your stuff is here, but this is NOT your apartment. Where are you? He watches as you start to freak out, guilt flashing through him for the first time in his life. He doesn't want you to be scared, he just wants to keep you safe!

Mafia boss! Charlie who sends one of his gentler employees into your room to explain everything, too afraid of scaring you even further by showing up himself. He waits a few days before revealing himself to you, when your terror has calmed down and you've become more familiar with your surroundings. He kind of just stands there, unable to formulate a sentence, which is extremely unnerving to you. You've been told you're to be married to a highly respected and violent mafia boss, and here he is, just...staring. When he opens his mouth to speak, your surprised at how soft his voice is, calmly explaining to you that you're safe, you won't be hurt. He reaches out his hand to touch you, but recoils when you flinch, not wanting to push you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who does everything he can to make you more comfortable and less afraid of him, getting you anything and everything you've ever shown interest in, giving you as much space as you need, and letting you roam the rather large house freely. All you can't do is leave. He doesn't understand why you're still so scared, sure he's a criminal, but he promised he would never hurt you!

Mafia boss! Charlie who gets more desperate for your love as time goes on. He starts appearing in whatever room your in, softly talking to you about his day or about whatever you're doing, trying to get you to be more comfortable with him. Once you've gotten used to that, he starting slowly initiating physical contact, holding you in his arms like he's never going to let you go (because he won't). He tried his hardest not to push your boundaries, but eventually his need to be near you becomes too great. Rest assured though, he would never, ever dream of hurting you or purposely scaring you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who can't get enough of the feeling of your skin on his. He starts hugging/cuddling you whenever he can, holding you like you'll break if he presses too hard. He's always near you, cuddling up to you while telling you about how much he loves you, adoration shining in his eyes. He's the clingiest at night though, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fall asleep, him watching over you until he succumbs to his own tiredness. And his kisses? They are the softest, fluffiest thing you've ever felt. He cannot get enough of your lips, and he always kisses you passionately, like you'll disappear once he separates from you. With how loving and gentle he is, it doesn't take long for you to start loving him back.

Mafia boss! Charlie who starts giving you more privileges the farther you fall into stockholm. He'll even start taking you out in public on dates once he thinks there's no chance of you trying to escape him. He'd be able to find you if you did, he has many, many connections, but he trusts you won't. He loves going out with you and doing normal, coupley things with you, it's a nice break from his usual, violent life.

Mafia boss! Charlie who is insanely protective of you, never leaving you alone in a room with anyone except for himself. He knows how dangerous it is to be associated with him and now that he has you, he refuses to let anything happen to you. Any rival who attempts to hurt, kill, or kidnap you is met with Charlie himself, who enacts the most brutal, torturous death he can possibly think of on them. Nobody will come close to hurting you, he'll make sure of it. But no matter what happens, he'll always make sure you're far, far away from the violence. He never wants to subject you to the horrors he's seen (and done).

Mafia boss! Charlie who feels awful the first time you hear him raise his voice. It wasn't at you of course, he would never, ever think of yelling at his darling, you just happened to be in the room when he was meeting with one of his associates. It's scary seeing him yell, threatening brutal acts of violence on his own employee, and for the first time you realize how different he is with others than he is with you. He's quick to shut the meeting down once he realizes you're there, spending the rest of the night apologizing to you and assuring you he would never speak to you like that. This'll be the first time he truly opens up about what his job is like and why he has to be as cruel as he is, trying to help you understand why he behaved the way he did. It's difficult for him to make himself vulnerable, but he'd gladly to it if it meant easing your mind. From then on, he makes absolute sure you aren't around whenever he has to take care of business. He refuses to let you see him like that ever again.

Mafia boss! Charlie who never lets you forget how much he needs you in his life. You're the only thing keeping him from devolving into insanity, he wouldn't know how to handle himself if you were gone. He'll give you everything and anything if you listen to him and stay by his side, so please... please don't try to leave him.

Not that you would be able to, anyway.

[cillsworld]

My devotion to you✧₊⁺

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Ship|Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary|you fall for your corrupt psychiatrist and he takes advantage of that.

Word Count|2765

Warnings|smut(18+!), age gap, abuse of power?, mentions of violent acts, oral(m rec!), rough sex, forced breeding!, baby trapping, (very) mild use of fear gas, mentions of drugs.

Notes|Jonathan is canonically 26 and reader is 18, reader is horny asf which is so real honestly like girl is down baddddddd. Also this is my second fic/piece of writing ever so that's cool, honestly it's a bit repetitive but I don't hate it sooo enjoy!

masterlist

You had always been an aggressive individual, constantly getting into fights both verbal and physical, being a headache to your parents, teachers, fellow peers and sometimes even the police.

Their last straw was when you beat a girl to unconsciousness for whatever irrational reason your brain had come up with and decided that you needed to be confined in a nut-house in order to change.

The first few days you were here, you were kept in solitary confinement with a straight-jacket to contain you from scratching your own eyeballs out, if you weren't insane before, that experience surely confirmed it.

But your disdain for the asylum went away as soon as your first session with Dr. Crane started, in high-school you were never big on crushes or boys really, since they all looked like wet rats and you couldn't bring yourself to be attracted to them.

That all changed when you saw the man that was meant to be your psychiatrist, Dr. Crane was the only thing keeping your remaining sanity intact, the man was so breathtakingly beautiful that all you ever did in your free-time was fantasize about him and count down the minutes to when you'd get to see him again.

Each session would consist of your failed attempts to flirt with him while he tried to bring your attention back towards the topic at hand, he was also the only psychiatrist you hadn't been violent against, that's why he was the one who actually stayed, just like you wanted him to.

So here you were, a smile present on your face as he walked into the room where you sat, confined by a straight jacked but nonetheless excited to see him, "you look unusually giddy today, what's the occasion?" He questioned while taking a seat across from you, looking down at the clipboard in-hand as he adjusted his glasses.

"I'm getting to see you after a whole week!" You responded with a giggle, leaning over the desk a bit as you usually did to get a better look at him, he looked back up with a raised eyebrow and sighed.

"Maybe if you didn't attack that man in the cafeteria, you wouldn't have been kept in solitary for a week and you would be able to see me earlier" he spoke with that usual stern tone of his, his words making you frown immediately, he looked and sounded so upset with you that you wanted to cry on the spot.

"He took my apple! What else was I supposed to do?" You retorted defensively almost immediately, jumping up a bit, all he did was stare at you, with that look that he knew would make you contemplate everything you just did, you calmed down and slumped back in your chair with that cute, conflicted look on your face.

"I'm sorry for yelling doctor Crane, are you mad at me?" You questioned quietly, your voice going soft and barely above a whisper, he swallowed with pursed lips before looking back down at his clipboard, writing something down that you tried to peer over to get a look at.

"No.. No, I'm not mad" he responded dismissively with a shake of his head, "but I have to say, this session isn't starting quite the way I had hoped" he continued making your expression falter, looking back up at you, "don't you think you've given me enough trouble for the week?"

"I gave you trouble doctor Crane?" You questioned with confusion lacing your voice and expression, leaning over the table with furrowed eyebrows, hugging yourself tighter then you were being forced to.

"Yes. I wasn't going to tell you but your little outburst caused me a lot of trouble with my seniors, they think I'm not making progress with you fast enough and they should give you to someone else" you immediately opened your mouth to protest when he said that but a raise of his hand signaling you to keep quiet was enough to make you shut yourself up.

"Now, I'm going to need you to be well-behaved for this session or I might as well hand you over" he threatened, almost daring you to challenge his words, "so.. Are you going to be good for me today?"

God why'd he have to word it like that, you quickly nodded while absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together, "yes I will Doctor Crane, I promise!" You responded, perking up and he nodded muttering a small "good", almost smirking at your compliance of anything he says in response to the simplest threat of being away from him.

“Now, I want you to tell m-“ you couldn’t help but cut him off, at this point it was a habit of yours and a casual occurrence, “what’s in that box doctor crane?” You questioned with a tilted head, nodding towards the briefcase that he’d brought in for the first time.

Usually your interruption would annoy him but this time it caused a rush of excitement in him, “I’m glad you asked darling..” your face heated up at the nickname that he called you rarely, every time he had said it, it had caught you off guard.

He opened the little black briefcase and as soon as he did the air felt different, heavy, your heartbeat had started to rapidly increase and every inch of your skin was becoming sweaty and clammy as anxiety filled you and your brain went panic mode.

”What’s in there doctor Crane?” You continued with the questioning now looking as if you were incredibly sick, your skin pale and flushed, “this, is a special creation of mine.. it’s what I use to keep extreme cases in line..”

His voice gradually became more raspy and deeper as he talked about it, looking into the briefcase with so much admiration that you almost wished you were it.

“I don’t like it..” you mumbled weakly as he brought it closer to you, instinctively leaning back as he did so, your vision going a bit blurry as your stared down into it, Crane on the other hand scoffed at your words.

“You aren’t supposed to like it" he replied in an almost snappy tone, closing it shut as he did so, "my dear, I need you to understand that if you keep misbehaving as you have recently.."

"I won't hesitate to give you an actually proper dose of what is in here" he patted the case as if to emphasize his point and you let out a soft gasp, "why would you do that doctor crane? I said I was sorry.." Your voice shaky and quiet, starting to understand why those patients you'd overhear would always talk of Crane as if he was the devil.

"You're already scared?" The way he said your name had a mocking undertone in it that you hadn't yet heard from him, "I said if you misbehave" he felt like a broken record, constantly repeating the same things and not getting much progress in return and frankly it was starting to annoy him too much for your own good.

He saw that sense of relief wash over you at his words, he couldn't help but want to ruin that peace and bring back the look in your eyes that sent his heart racing, "or.. I could give you a demo right now?"

"No-" you cut him off quickly, "that.. That's not necessary" you couldn't quite put a pin on the look in his eyes, was it amusement? Excitement? Either way it gave you a rush of adrenaline you enjoyed.

"are you sure about that? because I have an inkling that you'll get me in trouble yet again, if you don't learn that your actions have consequences" he was so serious, more then usual, while speaking that you couldn't even try to trick yourself into thinking he was bluffing.

"I would never do anything to get you in trouble.. Not- not on purpose" you spoke hesitantly, not trusting your words at all, "really?" He mocked with raised eyebrows, "if you're really that devoted to me why don't you prove it?" He spoke in a bored tone, leaning back in his chair as he did so.

"how do I do that?" You questioned quickly, a subtle pout on your face, "I don't know" he retorted with a click of his tongue, "you tell me.."

As soon as the idea came to your brain your heart went racing, maybe you escalated things too quickly, dropping to your knees and scooting under the table to go towards Jonathan, when you peaked out of the table from in between his legs to make contact with his widened eyes, you tried not to smile, "I can pleasure you? To prove my devotion of course.."

"well that's certainly an idea.." As usual his tone was hard to read, he really was contemplating, he'd have to admit the sight of you between his legs batting your eyelashes at him was a pretty one, if that wasn't enough to make him uncomfortably hard you being in a straight jacket on top of that made it harder for him to refuse.

"get one chance and you become a bitch in heat.." His voice was so low that you almost didn't catch what he said and you almost wished you didn't, your cheeks heated up and you opened your mouth in protest but he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth, shutting you up.

"if we're going to do this I'm gonna need you to stay quiet okay?" He told you and you quickly nodded, "good, now get to work" he said dismissively before removing his hand and leaning back in his chair, unzipping his pants and pushing it down just enough that it'd be past his hips and you could see the outline of his cock through his boxers.

It seemed almost uncomfortable as the boxers seemed like they'd burst open any minute with how his cock was straining against them, your mouth was watering at the sight though you looked up at him in confusion when he made no move to take the boxers off.

He raised an eyebrow looking down at you, "what? I really need to spell it out for you?" His tone was so obviously condescending that you almost felt ashamed it was turning you on, "your hands may be useless but you still have a good set of teeth princess, use it"

So you did, craning up your neck to take the hem of his boxers between your teeth and slowly pull them down enough to release him from, you almost gasped at the sight of him, he was a little above average in length and girthy enough to make you question if you could fit him properly in your mouth.

You stuck your tongue out and licked a strip under it from the base till the tip of his cock, taking the head in your mouth, licking the pre-cum, his hand came up to take a fist full of your hair startling you, "speed up darling, I don't have all day" he told you in an unamused tone.

You swallowed him halfway and started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks in an effort to impress him, your body pressed up against his legs as you moaned around him.

All you got in response was a little groan, his grip on your hair tightened and he started pushing your head up and down at a faster pace, pushing you deeper each time, you looked up at him to see his flushed face and pretty blue eyes roll to the back of his head as he cursed under his breathe.

The sight sent waves of pleasure to your core and made you uncomfortably wet, "that's it princess, put your pretty mouth to good use" he muttered under his breathe as his thrusts became faster and more desperate.

Suddenly he pushed you all the way down and you eyes widened from surprise, gagging around him for a moment as you tried to adjust to the foreign breaching of your throat, your nose pushed into his trimmed hair as you whined, looking up at him through watering eyes, he let out a soft with at the sight.

"oh don't cry darling.." He spoke with feign sympathy, "this is what you wanted right? To pleasure me?" He mocked as you whined once more, instinctively trying to pull back for air, he let you go after a few moments, only giving you a few seconds to breathe before pushing you down again.

He bobbed you at the same place, letting himself bask in the pleasure as you gagged and choked with each thrust, it went on for a bit before he completely pulled you off and up so he could see you properly, standing on your knees a line of spit was connected from the base of his cock to your lips.

He reveled in the sight of your flushed face with tears streaming down it, messy hair and chest heaving, "good.. You did good darling.." He said under his breath, patting your cheek a bit too harshly, "but you didn't cum doctor crane.." You responded quietly, a pout on your glossy lips.

"oh that's not for you to worry about" he responded dismissively before standing up and pulling you with him, making you whimper from the pressure on your scalp, he turned you around before shoving you on the table and you let out a squeak of surprise.

"what're you doing doctor crane?" You questioned quietly, even though you knew the answer specially when he reached for the hem of your trousers, you wanted him to tell you.

"m'gonna fuck you baby.. " his raspy voice responded while undressing your lower half as blood rushed towards your face, "you can see it as a reward for your hard work.."

You could feel the head of his cock rubbing on your cunt, you squirmed and pushed back against him with a whine, urging him on, he grabbed your hair yet again and pulled you up, bending your body uncomfortably as he leaned down, "stop being so desperate darling, it's not a good color on you.."

Before you even had time to process it he pushed almost all the way in and your jaw dropped as a loud moan escaped you, his grip on your hair tightened as your expression contorted from the pain and pleasure of it all, eyes fluttering shut.

"fuck, I knew you'd have a tight little cunt from the moment I saw you" he breathed out, staying still for the moment to let the both of you adjust before pulling all the way out till the tip and then thrusting in again, repeating the process as loud moans escaped you.

"thought I told you to stay quiet earlier.." He muttered before letting your hair go and untying his tie, "but that's just how you bitches are huh? Get a good cock in you and you lose all control of yourself" you whined in protest but not for long before he gagged you with his tie and tied it behind your head.

He held your hips up as his thrusts soon resumed, letting you lay limp on the rocking table, squirming and mewling as he chased his own release, he reached a hand down to start rubbing at your clit with enough pressure to make you see stars and clench tightly around his dick, making him release a loud groan.

"pussy so tight she's fuckin chocking me.." He turned you around, deciding he wanted to see your face while you both came, see your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs shook from the pleasure, he didn't falter in his thrusts while you came, not caring if he was over stimulating you and more focused on his release.

Even though your head felt blank and too foggy to form a coherent thought you could feel him twitching inside you and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, making sure he came deep inside you.

Once her came off his high he quickly pulled out, "fuck, what did you do.." He panted out, raising one of your legs up to get a good look of his come dripping out of your hole and down your ass.

"now why would you do that?" He questioned; knowing you weren't allowed to or were on birth control, rising up and removing your makeshift gag, as soon as he did you craned up to kiss his stiff form.

"I love you Jonathan" you told him after pulling away with a smile, not bothering to answer his 'silly' question, all while he stayed a bit frozen, now realizing that he'd gotten himself into major shit.

[piperlivingdeliberately]

Blushing, Crushing, and Totally F*cked! Part II

This is the second part to my first fic! Here's the link to that: :)

Summary: Hazel and the reader grow much closer as friends through the club, and after the emotional bonding meeting, they think they might be ready to grow closer in other ways.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: fem reader (she/her pronouns used), swearing, sexual content (no explicit smut), making out, discussions of divorce, mental health, emotional topics, a bit of hurt/comfort, angsty because I got carried away, etc. Hazel is much less of a loser in this one, but she's just as cute. 18+

Your younger popular self never would have imagined that you would be sitting in a circle with a bunch of losers who you punched in the face every day. Yet here you were, surrounded by violent losers, your favorite loser with a goofy smile on her face sitting to your left. Hazel looked over at you, making you remember how much you never would have expected that smile to make you so weak in the knees.

You still got butterflies thinking about the first time Hazel talked to you; a simple two-word compliment after your first spar made your heart flutter with giddy nerves. The interaction spurred you on enough to allow you to feel comfortable giving her friendly smiles. These quick greetings turned to light touches, then to bolder flirtatious statements, and eventually deep conversations that were cut off by school bells. You wondered when you'd finally gather the courage to discuss what you really wanted to tell her: you had been crushing on Hazel since the first day of eleventh grade. If only your classes were longer than 15 minutes.

"So, we know that the club has been a good way for us to feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a way for us to feel empowered emotionally," Josie kicked off the meeting on yet another unexpected note. You were grateful for the interruption in your spiraling thoughts.

The trauma-dumping session began, everyone adding their own little secrets and worries. You felt comforted by the supportive listening ears and voices around you. You had grown so close to these girls, so close that you ached hearing the tales of their pain. You felt your heart clench even more when Hazel timidly spoke up about her tense relationship with her mother.

"It's just been really good for me to get to know people who actually want to know me," she finished, eyes locking with yours before quickly fixing on her shoes.

"I just want to go back to Brittany for a second--" PJ began, but you didn't listen. You rested your hand on Hazel's knee, an offering of support, of friendship, or maybe something else. You completely tuned out the rest of the meeting when her own hand rested on yours. Her thumb stroked your wrist. Your whole body went stiff, but your hand felt like rippling water being held in hers.

"I think that's a good place to wrap up," PJ closed out the meeting, thanking everyone for their attendance as the rest of your friends filed out. You and Hazel didn't move, though. Your hand stayed on her knee, her thumb stayed gently gliding against the back of yours. Her sharp inhale was the only thing that got you to look up from the spot where you touched.

"Thank you," was all she said. You didn't have to ask why she was thankful, and she knew she didn't have to tell you. Something unspoken was always settled between your eyes as you stared.

"You're welcome." You removed your hand, not knowing if it had been there for too long or not long enough. "If you... If you ever want to keep talking about your mom or anything else that bothers you, I'm always here to listen." Hazel's gaze softened even more, which you didn't think was possible.

"Do you want to come over and talk more?" She said it so fast that even she seemed surprised by the question. "I mean-- only if you want to. We could watch a movie or I don't know. If it's stupid, I'm--"

"Yes," you assured her. "Let's go."

Her eyes widened like a cartoon character, so you began rising off of the gym floor to urge her on. "Oh-- okay. Great. Let's go."

...

The ride to Hazel's house was realistically no longer than 15 minutes. It felt like hours, though, with you using all of your energy to avoid staring at her ringed hands on the steering wheel. Your cheeks grew hot at the thought of what they would feel like on your bare skin. Your cheeks grew even hotter when you finally realized that Hazel had already parked the car and was watching you ogle her fingers.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing, sorry." You pushed the door open, waiting for her to lead you into her house.

One step in, you stifled a gasp. Hazel's home was almost as bright and beautiful as she was.

"Do you want to go up to my room? I can grab some snacks," she offered.

"Sure, sure." You followed her like a puppy as she led you through the breathtaking halls of her house. She gathered various food and DVDs before finally plopping down on her bed when you reached her room. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, unsure of where you were allowed to sit.

"Come here, you freak," she joked, patting the sheets next to her. You laughed as you tentatively sat at the edge of her bed. "I've had enough trauma-dumping for the day, so I'm thinking we should watch some Disney for a palette cleanser." You grinned like a little kid at the assortment of movies she had laid out before you. "Well?" she asked.

"Well, what?" you replied.

"Pick one." She looked up at you through her dark lashes. "The princess gets to pick the princess movie."

"Fuck off," you scoffed, shoving her playfully to prevent her from seeing how red your cheeks had gotten at the nickname. She simply raised her eyebrows, still waiting for your choice. "Fine." You pointed at the purple and yellow Tangled DVD case.

"Classic." She hopped off the bed and inserted the disc. When she rejoined you, you could have sworn she sat closer than she had originally. Don't think about it, you told yourself. You were just two friends who shared lingering glances and hand touches watching the most romantic princess movie known to man. That's all it was.

The movie was as wonderful as ever, if not more wonderful what with Hazel's poor renditions of all of the songs to entertain you. For the most part, you were able to sit comfortably beside each other. You were completely content to watch the screen, that is when you were able to ignore that you could feel her looking at you instead of the TV at times. It became impossible to ignore when the credits began rolling and you had no choice but to meet her eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked quietly.

She hesitated. "I didn't expect you to be so..."

"...not bitchy?" you finished her sentence.

She laughed, "Well, not exactly. I guess I just never would have guessed that you were so kind and supportive."

"Yeah, most people don't expect the popular cheerleader to be anything but a ditsy fucktoy for football players, I guess." You had meant it as a joke, but Hazel shot up in defense.

"That's not what I meant." She shook her head. "I think what I'm trying to say is that I never would have guessed that someone as cool and-- and beautiful as you would hang out with any one of us in the club."

"Honestly," you sighed. "I never would have guessed it either." You shared a laugh with Hazel, marveling at how sweet she sounded when she was happy.

"I'm really glad you joined the club," Hazel told you, suddenly seeming more shy. Her soft gaze melted your heart, yet somehow made you feel braver than ever before.

"You're the reason I love the club so much." You almost whispered it, so afraid of the reaction it would elicit. Hazel continued to look at you for so long that you considered changing the subject as a diversion from your confession. You were unable to speak, though, because Hazel quickly pressed her lips to yours.

The speed of the kiss shocked you at first, Hazel moving quickly as if she were afraid that you would run away. Your hands found her hair and she instantly relaxed, your lips melting together.

You didn't know that kissing could feel this good, this easy, this right. Despite never wanting to stop, you tugged on Hazel's hair to look at her gasping face.

"Are you okay?" she asked you, hands framing your face in concern.

"God, yes," you laughed. "I'm so good."

Your giggles were once again cut off by her lips. They chased yours with more urgency, so you slipped your tongue against hers. She moaned softly against your teeth, spurring on your ministrations until she detached herself from your mouth.

You almost protested at the lack of contact until you felt her wet lips trailing down your jaw and neck. You whined as she sucked and softly bit a sweet spot, reveling in the sound of her moaning at your own noises. Her hands snaked around your waist, slowly climbing up toward your breasts.

"Is this okay?" she breathed against your collarbone.

"Fuck, please." She let out a low chuckle at your begging, her laughter soon muffled against your skin as she slipped her head under your oversized shirt. You felt her breath dance across your tits, aching for her already. After one delicate kiss to your left nipple, moans filled your ears. Hazel emerged from beneath your clothes when you both realized that the sounds were coming from neither of you.

"Shit!" Hazel exclaimed. "I hate it when she does this." She collapsed onto the bed, breathless.

"Is... Is that your mom?"

"Yes," Hazel groaned from behind her hands. "She's very vocal."

"God, I'm sorry you have to hear that." The pair of you couldn't help but laugh at the obscene sounds from down the hall, clutching each other's arms in disbelief as they grew louder.

"I'm just sorry that we were interrupted," Hazel whispered against your hand before kissing your palm.

"I am, too," you agreed. "It's getting late, though. I should go." You nearly got teary-eyed when you saw the sadness on Hazel's face.

"Right," she said. "Let me take you home."

You found yourself wishing that you lived farther from Hazel when she pulled into your driveway after just a few minutes. You planted a quick kiss on her forehead before thanking her and walking to your front door.

"Wait!" you heard Hazel call your name through the rolled-down window. You bounced back over to her. "My mom's not going to be home this weekend. So, if you wanted to come over again, we could... you know..."

"...watch The Princess and the Frog next?" you joked.

Her infectious giggle sounded like Heaven. "You got it, princess." With one more soft kiss, she pulled away from your house.

The weekend couldn't come any sooner.

...

AHHHHH sorry I got so carried away with this but there will DEFINITELY be a smutty part three for all of you sluts. Let me know if you liked this one!

[inkdrinkerworld]

best friends to lovers with sirius x reader PLEASEE love the touchy bsf james fics sm

I’m making this touchy bsf!sirius and shy!reader!!

Something about being close to Sirius amps up your shyness. It doesn’t help that you’re always together because your friend circles overlap.

Right now, you’re hosting early Christmas dinner for all your friends because they’re all off to their family- everyone but you and Sirius ironically, but you’re trying not to focus on that too much.

“Poppet!” Sirius’ call echos through your apartment and finds you in the kitchen where you’re taking your bread out the oven.

“In the kitchen Siri,” you say, not quite a shout but loud enough for him to hear. Your heart speeds up when you hear the click clack of his boots on your flooring.

“Happy early Christmas,” he says quietly, setting the bottles of mead, spiked eggnog (a recipe he had begged your mother to teach him many Christmases past), and sorrel.

His hands, now free, find your hips as you set the loaves on cooling racks.

“Happy early Christmas,” you echo, trying not to freak out at his proximity. It’s not unwanted and it’s been freely doled out to you for years, but you still can’t help but feel giddy and shy under his touch. Or his gaze, or well, just anything Sirius really.

“D’you need help with anything, poppet?” He asks, his cold rings running up your hip as he waits for your response.

“Can you pull the biscuits from the fridge? They’re the last thing to bake.”

Sirius nods, leaving you quickly and in the space of time it takes, all your friends come tumbling into your house.

James with the ham, Remus with turkey, Lily with a tofu dish, Marls and Dorcus with gifts.

Your house goes from quiet to lively in a matter of seconds and the boys set the table while you and the girls start drinking.

“Do you think Sirius will make a move on you?” Dorcus asks and you roll your eyes.

“We’re just friends,” you mutter, sipping your sorrel as your friends scoff. This is a conversation you’ve all had in many different ways.

You insist you’re friends and then Sirius goes on a does something not exactly too friendly.

“Dove? Can you come here a minute?” Remus calling you makes your eyebrows raise to your hairline.

“Yeah, Moony?” Sirius is already sitting in his self assigned seat- the one right beside yours- with a frown on his face. As you get closer, you notice he’s scowling and gritting his teeth.

That makes the nerves in your stomach churn a little more violently.

“Would you please tell Pads that you wouldn’t kiss him to ring in the New Year?” The girls laugh at the reasoning for Sirius’ sudden bad mood.

You frown. You hadn’t thought that was what he was gonna ask you. “Do you want to kiss me, Siri?” Sirius looks up at you instantly, eyes stormy.

“S’not about what he wants dove, do you wanna kiss him?”

You feel put on the spot and know Remus will drop it if you ask him to, but Sirius looks pensive. Like he’s on edge for your answer. Like he might combust and disintegrate if you refuse to kiss him.

Not like you would. He’s got lips that deserve to be kissed.

“Yeah I’d kiss him. Or let him kiss me, whichever way it has to go.”

Sirius perks right up, much to your friends’ delight. “We can start practicing now or when these lot leave if you like, poppet.”

[bosbas]

Epilogue: quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

series masterlist previous part || alt ending

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 2.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (except not really anymore), alluding to sex, benedict being so down bad for this woman (like down horrendous), this woman being so down bad for benedict, pregnancy and discussions around pregnancy

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: i am so sad to let these bbs go i love them so much!! i will simply have to write drabbles because they are so dear to me oh my

January 3, 1819 – Y/N

A happy new year indeed! I missed you all terribly during the holiday season this year, but John and I had a wonderful time here in Scotland with Michael. It snowed beautifully on Christmas Day, and it made me think of all of you and our often violent snowball fights on your birthday.

In fact, I believe this letter should reach you at around that time, so I am sending you the brightest of birthday wishes as well! While I won’t be able to attend your celebration this year, seeing how we’ll still be at Kilmartin House, I am sending you a wonderfully tight hug and hoping your day is incredibly special. Hit one of my siblings with a snowball for me, please! Preferably one of the boys, but really anyone will do. 

Love from your sister, Francesca

You squinted your eyes in your dimly candlelit bedroom, unsuccessfully attempting to undo the tiny buttons on your dress. Perhaps it was the undercurrent of nervousness that had been moving through you the whole day, but you found your fingers were shaking so much that you couldn’t hold them still for long enough to unclasp the buttons on your back. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you accepted that you were simply not going to be able to do this by yourself, and you gripped the edge of the chest of drawers in front of you as you willed your voice to come out sounding more carefree than you were feeling at the moment.

“Ben, darling, are you still upset about earlier?” you called across the room.

A small huff escaped his lips as he shifted on an armchair in the corner, murmuring something about betrayal and honor without looking up from his book. You smiled and held back a laugh, anxieties momentarily soothed. Per Francesca’s request, you had hit Benedict less-than-gently in the chest with a tightly packed snowball during your annual snowball fight earlier today, and he had taken it quite to heart. Well, that and the fact that you had sneakily teamed up with Hyacinth and Gregory without telling him. It really wasn’t your fault, you reasoned. Benedict had thought you would go easy on him simply because you were married to him, which, of course, was a foolish thing to think. Though he wasn’t as competitive as you were, evident in your much more successful Pall Mall record, you knew today’s loss still stung.

“Well, do you think could find it in you to help me with my dress?” you raised your eyebrows pointedly. “Or are you still feeling too betrayed?”

He immediately looked to meet your eyes, grudge completely forgotten as he nodded excitedly and rushed over to you from the armchair he had previously been sitting in. It was rather endearing that Ben was still giddy every time you asked for his help undressing, even after four years of marriage. 

After a few moments of Benedict concentrating intensely on the buttons on your back, you teased, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He hummed in assent and smiled at you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, immensely. It certainly makes up for earlier, I think,” he winked as he fiddled with the buttons. 

Honestly, you were inclined to think that Benedict had been secretly asking your seamstress to make the buttons smaller on each new dress she made you so you would have no option but to ask for his help. Even so, you wouldn’t have minded. You, too, enjoyed his sturdy hands on your back, his deft fingers fiddling with your dress and his lips softly kissing your shoulders as you told him about your day.

“A well-deserved win today, Mrs Bridgerton,” he said, never quite growing tired of how sweet the title sounded coming from his mouth. “And on your birthday no less. A stellar performance. I suppose I’ll have to start recruiting Simon and Daphne’s children to help me against the lot of you from now on. And then when we have ones of our own I can form a small army and I will never lose again.”

Your heartbeat sped up a fraction, but you were saved from having to answer when he undid the last button and your dress fell to the floor. Benedict placed his hands on your shoulders and gingerly turned you around to face him, drawing in a sharp breath as he took in your figure covered by nothing but your chemise, completely mesmerized by you. But he was quickly drawn out of his awe when he noticed your nervous eyes shifting around the room. 

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked, placing a gentle hand on your elbow and drawing you closer. “I wasn’t truly upset about today, I promise. I rather enjoyed seeing you, Gregory, and Hyacinth absolutely obliterate everyone else. It was only a slight inconvenience that I was one of the people you were obliterating.”

You shook your head, sending him a small smile. “No, no don’t worry, Ben. It’s not that at all,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder tiredly, an entire day of worrying having taken a toll on you.

“But it is something, then,” he prodded, desperate to find out what was making you so anxious. 

You said nothing, fiddling nervously with the hem of his waistcoat instead. Benedict, on his part, was growing increasingly alarmed. Usually, he could instantly tell exactly what was plaguing you, but you were being oddly evasive, and he was at a loss. Perhaps the best thing to do was to let you rest and broach the subject tomorrow morning, so he tugged on your hand and sat you down on the bed.

“It’s alright, darling,” he said, softly kissing your forehead. “I’ll ring for some tea, and we can get ready for bed.”

“I think I’m pregnant,” you blurted out before he could let go of your hand to go ask for some tea from the kitchen. Your shoulders sagged in relief, and you immediately felt a weight lifted off your shoulders as you said the words aloud.

“What?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Pregnant. With child.” 

“With my child?”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” you responded, laughing.

He instantly relaxed, rolling his eyes and engulfing you in a tight hug. “Oh, shut up, woman! I was merely trying to process the news,” he laughed, ecstatic that there would soon be a tiny version of one of you running around the house. He looked at you, eyes shining, and shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. 

“So, you’re happy?” you asked, anxiety still lingering in the back of your mind. It had been four years, after all. Your marriage had happened rather hastily, considering the years the two of you had spent pining after one another, and you had decided to revel in your romance for a while before having children. And eventually, you had wanted them. It was just slightly frightening to know that the time had actually come. You were excited, of course. You couldn’t imagine a better life than one where you raised children alongside your best friend, but you couldn’t help the nervousness you felt as you locked eyes with Ben.

“Happy? I’m over the moon, darling,” he said giddily and pushed you back on the bed so he could plant kisses all over your face. 

“If I knew it would be like this I would’ve gotten pregnant earlier,” you joked as Benedict moved on to kiss your neck and your breathing got heavier. 

---

You awoke quite suddenly, sitting up in bed so abruptly that Ben’s arm, which had previously been wrapped around you with his hand placed on your stomach, fell away from your body entirely.

Benedict grumbled in protest, noticing your absence even in his sleep. Typically, you slept on your side, with Benedict wrapped around you until the moment you woke up. Despite your racing heart, you smiled down at him, placing a soft kiss on his temple and sliding yourself back into his arms. 

But your attempts to fall back asleep were futile. You had stopped tossing and turning but found yourself lying on your side, staring at the wall opposite you while you felt Benedict’s chest rising and falling against your back as he breathed. 

“S’wrong?” Benedict asked sleepily, sensing that you were still awake.

Not wanting to disturb his sleep more than you had already, you whispered, “No, it’s nothing, Ben. You can go back to sleep.”

But Benedict was having none of it. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, turning you around to face him. “That’s alright. I was awake anyway,” he lied, voice husky with sleep. “What’s wrong? I’m incredibly awake. Awake. I am awake.” 

“Sounds like it,” you said, laughing at him softly. You leaned up and pecked him on the lips, secretly thankful for his unrelenting line of questioning. 

Blinking the sleep from his eyes and leaning on his arm to face you, Ben looked at you and smiled fondly. “I am! Promise.” Then, tracing his fingertips on your arm, he pressed you a bit more. “It’s just me, darling. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m a bit scared,” you whispered. “Actually, I’m terrified. Terrified of becoming a mother, and of having to take care of an entire other human being, and of what it might change between us. Is this what you really want? Having a child?”

Benedict’s fingers never stopped moving as he thought of how to best address your fears, knowing the motion calmed you down. “Having a child with you,” he corrected. “Of course it’s what I want! I get to see a little bit of you in an entirely different person. And you’re my favorite person. So, I don’t really see a downside.”

You hummed thoughtfully, feeling slightly calmer. “But what if I’m a bad mother? What if our child is unhappy?” you cried, tears brimming your eyes as you thought of the endless scenarios in which you failed as a mother.

“What if you’re a great mother? And our child is happy?” Ben countered. “Look at how you are with Gregory and Hyacinth. How you’ve always been with them. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Y/N. Besides, we’ll learn how to be parents at the same time and it’ll be something we do together.”

Nodding thoughtfully, you interlocked your fingers with Benedict’s. “I suppose you’re right,” you conceded. “It will certainly be a hell of an adventure.”

Sensing that you had calmed down significantly, Ben added cheekily, “Don’t forget you’ll finally have someone else you can force to listen to your ramblings about literature.”

You smacked Benedict playfully. “You enjoy the ramblings, might I remind you,” you replied airily. 

Kissing the top of your nose, he tucked your hair behind your ear and winked. ”Mm, I believe I did admit to this, yes.” Then, after a few moments of comfortable silence, he spoke up gently, “What about you?”

“What about me?” you asked.

“Is having a child what you really want?”

Your heart melted a bit. Even after he woke up in the middle of the night to have a chat with you and was clearly exhausted, he was still making sure you were alright. “Well, obviously. I’m thrilled! Especially now you’ve brought up the fact that I can have a book club of my own. If it’s a boy, I bet he’ll be just like you. A tiny Benedict running around the house ruining our expensive furniture with acrylic paint.”

“And if it’s a girl we’ll name her Daisy, right? Flower names and all that,” he replied sleepily, relieved you were finally easing into the idea of motherhood. “She’ll be just as smart as you are, I bet. I’ll give her the flower encyclopedia as well so she can know where her name came from. I think the one I gave you is still at Bridgerton House. I’m sure we could find it if we look.”

You gasped, having forgotten about your childhood plans to name your daughter after a flower. “Oh, that would be so darling!”

Benedict laughed softly, kissing you and pulling you back into his arms. “It would, wouldn’t it? Do you want to go back to sleep?” he asked, burying his nose in your hair as his eyes fluttered shut. You nodded, squeezing the hand that was nearest to you and interlocking your fingers. 

Ben was fast asleep soon after, but you spent a few moments looking at his sleeping form, chest rising and falling as his breathing deepened. Your heart swelled with love for this silly boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. He was your husband now! Even after four years, you couldn’t quite believe how lucky you’d gotten. And you would get to raise a child together now. You really couldn't imagine anything better.

—

previous part || alt ending || buy me a ko-fi!

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti @sopanngon @fanfiction-she-wrote @aureolinb @ambitionspassionscoffee @bbubbllejisoo @marvelspogue @avengersgirlloriannaa @loliakeoghan23 @cierrajhilll @sadprose-auroras @merlieve @khaylin27 @cherrytop02 @little-duck @angerpearl @shondlenoodle @lyssamay52 @bags10 @angerpearl

[astupidweeb69]

hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???

Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader

Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.

I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk

Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:

The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)

The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.

A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.

But Toby doesn't say anything at first.

He doesn't have to.

Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.

He touched you.

Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.

You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.

Luckily they didn't press charges.

You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.

Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.

But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.

Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.

Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.

Red.

Everything is red.

Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.

Toby.

The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.

He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.

And he tells you what he did.

It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.

He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.

He was far from the loser you thought he was.

And you liked it.

Liked that he did that for you.

After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.

You open the door.

Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.

You're blushing too. Blushing for him.

Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.

The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.

It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)

And a reader who's fully on board?

Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.

It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.

But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Hi Elle!! Hope all is well 💕💕

Can I request a headcanon or fic of where Dick and y/n have been in a serious relationship for a few years and OC has become a “mom figure” to all the other batboys. So when the batboys misunderstand Dick and OC getting into a big fight somewhere, they both come home (either to their place or to the manor) to find that the batboys have moved/thrown out all of Dick’s things because they love OC that much??

Thank youuu ☺️

Ahhh this is such a cute little idea!! Thank you so so much for the request it’s lovely to see an old friend <333

Found Family - Dick Grayson x Reader

Steph gave you a sympathetic smile as she poured the rest of the wine bottle into your now empty glass. “What’s wrong hun? Because if it’s boy troubles I will personally castrate Richard if he hurt you.” Which only made you sigh as you nodded. Her eyes widened, you and Dick never ever fought, and this foreign emotional territory was a shock to you too- hence the wine.

“Dick asked me to move in with him, but I’m not ready to leave my place! I love Gotham, and I’m not sure Bludhaven is where I’m meant to be. But I also know I could never leave him. I just told him I needed more time to think and I think he took it really personally. It’s not that I’m not ready to live with him, I’m just not ready to leave my life here even if it is just a town over.” You said, happy to put into words the emotions swirling in your chest.

“What?! You are NOT leaving Gotham anytime soon. What on earth would I do without you here?” Steph exclaimed, putting down her glass to pick up her phone, fingers typing frantically.

Less than a minute later, Tim was jogging into the Manor kitchen, “Dick’s tryna take Y/N from us? Over my dead body.” And before you could tell him otherwise, the young hero burst out the room, clearly on a type of war path.

“No! I love Dick and you guys, Bludhaven is great! I just need-”

“Taking down Richard has always been on my bucket list.” Damian’s snarky voice echoed through the manor as he stalked out the same door as Tim. You scrambled up and after him, but Steph side stepped in front of you, “don’t you dare try to fix this, we’ve got it!” Which only made you more nervous for the future of your relationship.

Before you knew it, another bottle was opened, and the colors of the Manor living room were awfully fuzzy. You were pretty sure you’d seen Jason, Tim, and Damian zipping in and out of the manor, each repeatedly promising an increasingly violent demise for your boyfriend, who’s radio silence was only making you more anxious. Steph, while physically with you, was terrifyingly glued to her phone, sending text after text- even taking the occasional call, but she was speaking quiet enough that your tipsy-mind couldn’t process the words flying out of her mouth.

You truly weren’t sure how much time had passed when Dick burst through the manor shouting “Stephanie Brown where the hell did you hide her!” And before you could shriek with excitement, Dick appeared in front of you, his eyes frantic until he saw you were okay.

“Dickie!” You cooed, outstretching your arms so he would scoop you up into a hug. And he did. He was breathing heavy, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he took a deep inhale. You were just giddy to see your handsome man, squeezing him tighter, wrapping your legs around his waist, happy to be carried as you weren’t sure you could stand in your current state.

“What on earth did they do to you sweetheart,” Dick mumbled, walking back towards the kitchen so you could place you on a counter, you leaned back to look up at his eyes. He swiped a hand over your cheek, you assumed you were still warm from the alcohol.

“She’s. Fine. Can’t say the same about you you selfish monster,” Steph slurred her speech, pointing an accusatory finger at Dick who gave you both a confused look.

Almost like a sitcom, the three other boys burst into the room, as if on cue.

“Step away from the woman Grayson!” Jason shouted as Damian lobbed the nearest manor antique he could get his hands on at Dick, who of course caught it effortlessly, setting it down next to you on the counter.

“What the hell is going on?” Dick raised his voice, but Tim was already in between the two of you, pushing Dick backwards as Damian hopped up onto the counter next to you, silently handing you a glass of water which you graciously took, enjoying the plot unfolding before you.

“No questions at this time Richard, as Y/N’s personal advisor I’m here to state the case.” Tim began, Jason and Damian nodding in agreement. Steph had her phone out, clearly filming the entire argument.

Tim continued, “it has come to our attention that you intend to take Y/N from us.”

“I asked her to move in with me?” Dick looked exasperated but intrigued by the way his brothers had turned on him in your name.

“And in doing so, you’d be removing her from Gotham, and therefore the four of us!” Tim concluded, and at the statement, Jason, Steph, and Damian mumbled angry agreements.

Dick scoffed, “I’m sorry, I thought she was my girlfriend, and you guys love coming to Bludhaven! With Y/N there it’s more reason for everyone to spend more time over there.”

Damian piped up immediately, “we hate Bludhaven Richard, Y/N is the only thing that makes it manageable.”

Jason snorted, “ever realized we only go over for dinner when Y/N is visiting you? Or that Steph only wants Sunday bagels in Bludhaven cuz Y/N spends the weekends there? Did you seriously think we just went over for you?” You cringed as the harsh tone, but Dick didn’t look offended, rather, proud?

Dick opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. Tim spoke up again, “Don’t worry Richard, I’ve already mended the problem at hand.”

Now Dick spoke up, “what the hell did you brats do now”.

“To the Zeta Tube!” Jason called, scooping you and Damian up in one arm and sprinting towards the teleporter, with Dick screeching for him to put you down following close behind. For once, Damian wasn’t squirming out of Jason’s grasp, rather he had quietly grabbed your hand, saying “I hope you love your new home” to you right before the Zeta Tube activated.

When you came through, Jason set you and Damian down happily, and you were situated in a fully furnished apartment. Furnished with your and Dick’s combined furniture. You froze for a moment, feeling like you were in a different dimension until you notice the window in the apartment. You recognized the block corner instantly.

“We refurbished an old safe house! It’s south west Gotham, so close enough to Bludhaven that Dick can’t whine too much, but only a couple minutes drive, or instant Zeta Tube to the manor!” Tim exclaimed excitedly.

Damian piped up, “we stripped Dick’s apartment to the ground to furnish it! Not like either of you will be needing it anyway!”

Dick had been silent, drinking in the new view. But he came up beside you to stare out the window, “I think they just made a compromise for us, but I do want you to love it. What I should’ve said earlier, is that I don’t need to be in Bludhaven, I need to be with you. You’re my home Y/N.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you leaned back into his chest.

You spoke up, “I love it, and I love you, and I especially love you guys,” you turned around to face your family. Steph was grinning, Jason was nodding knowingly, Tim was off slightly adjusting furniture placements, and Damian was- wiping away a tear. Not worth pointing out, because he’d deny it anyway, but your heart was bursting knowing the little guy wanted you near just as badly as you wanted to be close to him.

“Tim! Get over here, it’s group hug time!” Dick called, throwing an arm around Jason and Steph while you scooped up Damian, who for the second time that day, wasn’t fighting back. Tim crashed into the hug and your swore you could feel your heart beating out of your chest with pride in your found family.

Tim’s phone vibrated and he shouted “Dick! You’re rich! The Bludhaven apartment just sold!” And Dick shrieked, “You put my apartment up for sale in a day!!” To which Damian shrugged, “not like there was anything in there after we were through.” Jason nodded in agreement saying: “yeah, you don’t even wanna know what plan B was if you said no to this place!” But Steph shushed him before he could divulge any more, most likely violent, secrets. You couldn’t help but grin knowing your family had your back no matter what, even if Dick was slightly concerned over his brother’s undying loyalty to you, it made staying in Gotham that much more worth it to you both.

“As your realtor I will be taking 15% of the profit! Gonna go meet the new tenants!” Tim called, beelining to the Zeta Tube before Dick could even try to tell him no. You gave Damian’s hair a ruffle, which he immediately tried to fix, as Jason and Steph nodded, knowing they could be over whenever, but you and Dick probably wanted a moment to get used to the new place.

And suddenly, it was quiet. The bustle of the Gotham streets was faint, and you walked through the apartment which was truly designed perfectly, imagining the dinner parties, late night adventures, and peaceful mornings you’d get to have in your new place.

“As much as I hate to admit it, they did good.” Dick broke the silence. You nodded in agreement, unable to wipe the heartfelt smile off your face, you gave him a peck and said, “They sure did, it feels good to be home.”

~

I hope you enjoyed!! Thank you again for the request!

[fangirlmermaid]

You promised!

Summary: Reuniting with someone from the past. It doesn't go as planned.

Pairing: Logan x G!N Reader (platonic) x Deadpool x G!N Reader (Platonic)

Warning: Smoking, language, death, death threats, Angst

maybe some bad grammar and wrong punctuation.

(sorry if Deadpool isn't funny enough)

That night still haunts you, the screams echo in your ears, and the pile of your friends' dead bodies that you had to dig your way out of still makes your skin crawl. Fortunately, your ability to summon/ commune with the dead also gave you the power of immortality. 

You did everything you could to help but you were just a kid…your heart racing trying to find the one person who you thought could protect you…your kitten. Of course, he would rather be at a stupid bar than wear the stupid yellow spandex. When he came stumbling back where he found you covered in ash crying. Sadness turned into spite, how could he leave you? He promised to keep you safe! 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him…so you ran. That was the last time you saw Logan..or so you thought.

You tried to use your powers to conjure your friend's spirits but you couldn’t.

Years passed, and you lived a normal life. Until some weirdo with outdated references wearing a red spandex suit was in your apartment building lobby. He cut you off at the stairs spreading both his arms out so you couldn’t walk around him “Well hello pookie” The weirdo welcomed you as you glared at him “Do I know you?” You muttered, reaching into your messenger bag to grab something that could be used as a weapon. You were in no mood for what this ass has to say. The weirdo stood more relaxed “I’m Deadpool aka Marvel Jesus” the Spandex introduced, you raised an eyebrow “What? Marvel Jesus? What the fuck?” you wondered making Deadpool gasp at you “Oh just spit in my face! Did my peanut teach you that?! You’re too young to be speaking like a drunken sailor” Deadpool declared, clenching his nonexistent pearls. You wondered why he acted like you knew his peanut? If his friends were half as annoying as him then you doubt that you knew them.

Deadpool booped your nose making you swat his hand “My, my aren’t you a violent child” Deadpool teased, if he kept doing this Applebee's comedy night routine you were gonna need a joint. You dug through your bag, grabbed a joint from the container you kept, and lit the one in your hand. “I need your help saving the multiverse from this asshole named Paradox which is the stupidest name ever!” Deadpool announced, and you raised an eyebrow “The multiverse?” You repeated in disbelief that what this man was saying was true. You blew a cloud of smoke into Deadpool’s masked face, “as much as I would like to inhale secondhand smoke” the comedic took the joint out of your hand “I’m gonna need you to be sharp” Deadpool explained pressing the lit part of the joint on the no smoking sign. You crossed your arms “to save the multiverse?” You laughed, at this point you were expecting that you were on a prank channel.

Deadpool's whole demeanor changed “The point cupcake, is that everyone I care about will die if we don’t stop that asshole Paradox.” Deadpool was serious, there was no funny tone in it. You released a heavy sigh, ever since the fire you were done with all that heroic shit “Why me?” You wondered, he could have picked an actual crime fighter “Why you?! You’re Y/N! You were a part of Baldilock's merry band” Deadpool reminded you. The memories of when you were an X-men in training that you tried so hard to forget came rushing back, you tilt your head your eyes threw daggers at the dickhead in front of you who the fuck did he think he was making a joke about your friends.

You scoffed “it’s Deadpool, right?” You asked clenching your fists, the jackass got all giddy “Oh my god! Y/N remembers my name!” The mercenary exclaimed as if he was meeting Hugh Jackman. You grabbed him by his chest and pulled him towards you till you were inches apart “Get out of my way or I’m going to ram your head through a damn wall” you threatened beneath your breath.

Deadpool didn’t look intimidated, he looked over his shoulder “I can see why you like her, Peanut!” Deadpool yelled as if that was a queue. You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, you released the mercenary from your grip “You can thank Marvel H. Christ later” Deadpool patted you on the back before standing in front of the door that leads into the streets. Your heart sank into your stomach, Did this guy want you so badly that he brought someone with him to rough you up?!

The backup descended the stairs, and when his face came into view you froze, Your eyes glossed no, not him…anyone but him. You hoped this was just a nightmare, you kept pinching yourself hoping you would wake up in your apartment…but nothing happened, he was here.

 Logan gave you a warm smile “Hi, bub” he took a small step towards you, but you took a step back “Don’t!...don’t call me that!” your voice muttered, why would he think that it would be okay for him to call you that?! “Bu-kid, we need your help” Logan begged in a hushed tone like you were going to agree because the alcoholic asked nicely. You started to laugh “You…think…I’ll go…anywhere… with you?” You asked in between, you had to hold your stomach because you were laughing so hard. Deadpool took a step towards you two “Hi, sorry to interrupt but I’m kinda on a time crunch so can we-“ “Shut the fuck up!” You and Logan yelled in unison, Deadpool stepped back.

You looked back at Logan ”Y/N I’m so sorry” Logan apologized, you glared at him “That’s it?! That’s all you can say?! You went to get fucked up instead of being there…and all you can say is your sorry?!” You scoffed; it was like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound. It does nothing. You felt all the old feelings you tried to suppress seep through “I know and I’ll hate myself for that for my entire life” Logan admitted, you shook your head pinching the bridge of your nose to contain your emotions, trying not to cause a scene that would get the neighbors attention, “I can’t do this” you mumbled re-adjusting your messenger bag on your shoulder. 

Your eyes glossed as you tried to make it to the stairs but Logan blocked your path “Logan, please just step to the side. I don’t want to do this” Your voice cracked

“I can’t do that, Y/N”

“Just please move”

“I can’t kid” 

“Please move Logan”

“Bub, Please!”

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!”

Tears started to run down your cheeks your fist pounded against Logan's chest “Move” you weakly repeated, he didn’t budge or fight back. You felt as powerless as you did the night of the fire. You felt like you were one big joke to the universe.

 Logan tried to wrap his arms around you but you pushed yourself away from him, “Y/N” Logan called, you didn’t let him say more of his half-ass apology “Why weren’t you there?” you wondered crossing your arms over your chest, you remembered that he went to the bar but you wanted him to admit it. The man in front of you never answered, your eyes glossed “Why weren’t you there?! I needed you and you weren’t fucking there! You promised me that you would protect me! I trusted you! I looked up to you! You were my hero!” You admitted wrapping your arms around yourself as tears ran down your cheeks once again. Logan looked like he was on the verge of tears himself “I’m sorry, I’m here now” Logan promised, You shook your head “I don’t need you now! I needed you back then! Where were you…when I needed you?” You stated you noticed some people were opening their doors. 

Your eyes met Logan “I hate you” you sniffled, and Logan's lip quivered “I wish you would kill yourself, you would be doing me and everyone else in this world a fucking favor” Your tone was emotionless, Logan was taken back even Deadpool was speechless. You were emotionally drained, this time you successfully pushed past Logan and ran upstairs to your apartment.

You slammed the door Bang! You threw your bag on the ground and jumped into your bed shoving your face into your pillow to muffle your cries. You hate him. You hated that you trusted him. You wished you never met him. 

Back in the Lobby

Logan kept staring at the stairs silently hoping that you were going to come back down, hoping that you had a change of heart and the two of you could start over, a single tear escaped down his cheek. 

Wade stepped towards the Wolverine, “Why didn’t you tell her that those sons of bitches could fix your shit?” the mercenary wondered, Logan wiped away his tear before looking at that red fucker “They’ve been through so much…I didn’t want to get their hopes up. It’s not like they would believe me anyway” Logan admitted Wade placed his hand over his heart “Aw look whose heart grew three sizes” Wade mocked, making the Wolverine glare at him. Wade internally panicked, he needed Logan since he was an anchor beam and it’s not like this Logan could start fresh with the Y/N from his universe since they're dead. Meaning that Wade had to come up with something and fast.

Wade groaned making Wolverine snap his head toward him “This is the worst episode of Dr.Phil ever!” Wade whined. Wade grabbed Logan “You stay here and I’ll go talk to your precious Y/N who left like they were about to cut their hair, okay Peanut” Wade explained, surprisingly Logan agreed. Wade skipped towards the stairs. Wade saw some neighbors snooping “Yes children it’s Moi. Nothing to see here” Wade assured, he was about to introduce the peepers to Baby Knife but the peeping toms got the hint and closed their doors.  

As Wade reached Y/N’s apartment he tried to figure out how to persuade them to join him and his Peanut. He needs them to say yes so he can save his family.

[zarnzarn]

You made me obsessed with poly Odysseus Athena and Penelope I can't spend a minute without thinking about those three

Sometimes a relationship really is just a husband, a wife and a 7 ft tall goddess

HAHA IVE SUCCEEDED COME WALLOW HERE IN MY LITTLE CAVE POOL OF MADNESS HELP ME MAKE MORE!!

but fr I'm so glad you and so many people enjoyed!!!!!!!! they're constantly taking up space in my mind also, i just very much enjoy their craziness together!! here's some more ideas I had for my specific au:

-Olympus is Fucking Scared. imagine ur cold, unemotional stepsister suddenly going from :| and :/ to :) and :D because of three random guys. they're happy for her but ares also regularly begs them to consider the fact that Athena has been replaced by a robot

-Penelope is giddy because FINALLY she can let go of all her etiquette and court the hell out of the beautiful giant woman who's been a part of her life for so long. they have a bit of conflict at the start as Penelope goes full throttle on the romance and Athena is,, overwhelmed and uncomfortable because her feelings are really mixed on it.

but eventually they find a middle ground, where pen and athena have hairbraiding sessions together every morning and pen sends her off with flowers in her hair, maybe some jewelery they both compromise on; weave together flirtingly; Athena'll accept the occassional grand romantic gesture even if she's blushing and rolling her eyes the whole time. and yes she very much still seduces Athena into bed and drags her off into dark corners to make out- of which Athena complains often but never says no too. sometimes she doesn't want to participate, but she's always down to watch <3

-odysseus and Athena don't change much in dynamic post reunion; bffs usually found teasing each other or bickering, except this time they kind of see it when Penelope points out that there is a Lot of Tension, since they're also leaning into each other's space with smirks half the time. they can admit it to each other, but if anyone asks directly they actually are deeply mortified by the fact that they like each other, tsundre style <3 one conversation with hera had them both actually gagging lmao. if left alone together their first instinct is to nap on each other, and maybe their second or third would be to fool around. fourth, if there's a place to spar around; they're quite physically violent with each other and can't quite understand everyone else's mild horror at this- they've literally been fighting since they've met.

(pls imagine hera coming to ask questions of flower arrangements and walk into athena blocking a sword to the face and swinging a kick at odysseus' torso, both of them smiling wide as if they're not trying to kill each other. hera was Not Pleased.)

-telemachus is appearing soon so I won't talk abt him or the rest of the family but! they r also walking around like a bunch of ants to come meet Athena when they feel like it

-athena has a few strands of grey hair from after meeting them. she loves it.

-they try to ignore the rest of the pantheon, for obvious reasons. Athena and Zeus don't talk yet, even though the latter is almost daily trying to reach out to her and awkwardly try to discuss the wedding.

-both of them often come to sit on Athena's throne during Olympus gatherings. whisper and crack jokes to her, very relieved to not be the ones ruling. it takes a bit to get used to the sight of Athena smiling with her hair braided and flowered, leaning into her new spouses fondly, but everyone's very happy for her.

[sillyhahasilly]

caldre nsfw headcanons under cut.

(plz don't heavily interact if ur like under 16, ik I can't control it but yk.)

their first was initiated by cal and reciprocated by andre.

it happened well after they started planning zd, well after they realized how alike they are. by then they had already bared their truest self out to eachother. all their violent and fucked up desires, so why not keep going?

they were having one of those conversations, talking about their mental health and desires to die and cause harm and getting very emotionally intimate. I think andre said some shit like, I've never been this real with someone before. you're are the only person who knows me. really knows me. so, cal js fucking kisses him. a deep and incredibly desperate kiss, like he was starving. andre backs out and he js stares, wide eyed, at cal. and cal is so scared. that is the first time andre saw cal look scared.

andre kisses him back and they don't stop. cal climbs on top of andre, swinging his leg over him in an attempt to get closer. he's sitting on andres lap and both of their hands are all over eachother. both of them get hard embrassingly fast, and one of them accidently grinds on the other. they both stopped when that happened, shocked. andre would start to say how this isn't right or he isn't gay, so cal would reply, do you want to stop? obv, andre says no. so then cal would be like, great, fuck it. and then they'd be back all over eachother, grinding and making out. bc of how worked up cal was he'd come first, but not by much. afterwards, they were both surprisingly giddy. but they did need to awkwardly wash some jeans.

tdlr: their first time they both grinding on eachother and came in their own pants. js two desperate, hormonal, teen boys.

☆

they have a fucking codename for having sex. smth stupid, but sweet. I got this from a fic, and in it they called it "syncing". I feel like andre def started calling it that, cuz he's the one into military shit. they use it so they don't need to say it, and they can kinda distance themselves from what they are doing bc of how shamed gay sex was. internalized homophobia and all that. I feel like they would also be so afraid of zd being blamed on their sexuality so so much, so this small thing would add js another layer of protection.

this ain't nsfw really, but it's like they live a secret life with eachother. they act differently together around others then they do in private, like a code switch. they are always hiding in daylight out of shame.

☆

cals sex drive is either 1 or a 100. when he wants it, he wants it. he can get so desperate. once he greeted andre in the school hallway by whispering, "youre going to fuck me tonight." and then js acted like he didn't say anything bad.

when andres the one who wants it bad, he gets whiny. he will literally beg cal to let him be inside him, he'll say shit like "I'll be quick, I'll make you feel so good." after, he'll lowkey pretend that he didn't js beg like a dog. cal teases him for it. sometimes he'll purposefully work him up to that point.

(also if it ain't obv, andre tops and cal bottoms. BUT I can see them switching like once, but I feel like andre wouldn't like how gay it would make him feel.)

☆

they take anger and frustration from everything out on eachother during sex. andre got thrown into a locker and called a fag?? he will fuck cal hard and ruthless into the mattress to be in primal control of smth. cal is mad at humanity cause he spent another function quiet and resevred in the corner? he pushes andre around and leaves bruises everywhere.

they will talk abt violent fantasies of things they want to do to enemies and humanity during sex. yeah.

they have def talked abt how great zd is gonna feel and how they will be like gods while fucking.

☆

cal likes to be hurt during sex. bruises, bites, he loves getting bitten. he enjoys purposefully not doing enough prep so it hurts for a little bit.

andre likes to bite and bruise. match made in heaven. he does also enjoy pain, but not as much as cal.

tw sh!!! there has been times when andre will purposefully irritate cals healing scars. it's up to u to decide if they got freaky enough to cut eachother during sex.

☆

right after, andre gets really affectionate compared to how he normally is. he cuddles and hugs cal close to his body and does shit that he'll call gross and cringe normally like kiss him on the check.

sometimes tho, cal will get weirdly sad and quiet after sex. andre will try his best to talk to him abt it, (which isn't vv good) but they never really do. it's his depression and the drastic fall from pleasure to normal, kinda like the freaky version of feeling sad after hanging out w a friend for a long time.

☆

and ermmm. that's it. I did not mean for this to be this long but I guess reading gay porn fics way to young payed off <3

[wardenparker]

Hello my love! You DESERVE ALLL THE LOVE!!! Can I request Javi G? And “Wait! Please don’t leave!” For your AWESOME mini fic celebration???

😘😘😘😘

Regency!Javi Gutierrez. 867 words. "Wait! Please don't leave!" Co-written with @absurdthirst

Because we all need a little Darcy moment after the treat we got at the SAG Awards

"We should not be alone." He knows that. Everyone knows it. Even young children learn that being alone together is something only for the grown and married. Or your siblings. But certainly nothing else. So why Mr. Gutierrez is standing in your library now with mud on his boots and no waistcoat is beyond you. You certainly did not send for him, and neither did anyone else in your household.

"The day is early." Javi glances out the windows, almost surprised to see that the sun still has not quite cleared over the horizon. The night has been long, spent pacing his own library as he wrestled with his feelings. Unable to leave things without a resolution, he hadn't even stopped to dress properly, or saddle a horse. Walking across the cleared fields that separated his own estate from your father's. "No matter." He glances back at you and is overwhelmed by your beauty. "I have a matter of importance to speak with you about."

"Then surely we should ring for my mother, so that you may speak to her as well." The great supper at the palace had lasted long into the night but surely your mother would be rested enough by now to be a suitable set of surveying eyes in the room. Goodness only knows what she will say if she wakens to her breakfast tray to find out you have been entertaining a man alone at daybreak. "Please wait here," you instruct him as politely as possible, making for the door. "I will go and fetch her myself."

"Wait! Please don't go!" Javi strides forward only to stop after a few steps, afraid for a split second that if you walk out the door he will never see you again. He cannot wait to tell you. "I love you."

Freezing in place does not stop your heart from leaping into your throat and pushing a distressed sort of squeaking sound out in the process. The fluttering in your belly is nearly violent as your mind races to catch up with the pounding of your blood in your ears. If you were a more delicate woman, you might have swooned where you stand. "You..." Slowly, or just as fast as your body will allow which is a near-glacial pace, you turn again to face him. "I must not have heard you correctly."

“I love you.” He repeats breathlessly, feeling like his heart is about to leap out of his chest. “As inconvenient a truth as that might be, I have found that I cannot spend another moment outside of your presence. I yearn to tell you the mundane things about my day and inquire about yours with little regard to your lack of family fortune or your prospects, I have decided that I cannot live without you.”

"How very generous of you, sir." It is nearly a hiss when it comes out, and all the giddy tension through your body evaporates as quickly as it came. "'With little regard to your lack of family fortune or your prospects'? I cannot think who taught you the syntax of romance, but they did you a hearty disservice if you were attempting to pay me a compliment."

He frowns in confusion and he shakes his head. “I am merely trying to express the lengths that my heart sings when you are near.” He protests. “I have no need of a dowry or a presence in society, merely your heart and hand in marriage are all I hope to have.”

“I may not know much of the world, Mr. Gutierrez, but even a country gentleman’s daughter knows it is impolite to remark on a lack of prospects when making a romantic overture.” The very idea that he is making an overture seems ludicrous, all things considered, but you must admit that in all the ways you have been thrown together lately there has been a…a string connecting you. It seems to be tucked deep inside you. Perhaps tied to a rib and tugging each time he strays a little too far away.

“I—” his mouth is agape as you call out his rude manners and he realizes that all of the jumbled thoughts that have been rambling around in his mind have come out. “My sincerest apologies.” He bows slightly and sighs. “Perhaps such an early audience was not wise.”

“Sleep has a way of soothing the thoughts.” The small touch of advice is kindly meant, although your hands shake with it and your heart pounds. He had not meant to insult. He simply spoke too quickly. “Perhaps you would rather return at teatime? To speak to my father?”

“Perhaps.” Javi sighs softly, aware of his blunder and more than certain you will reject him if he were to return. “Good morrow to you, then.”

“Good morning.” That pounding of your heart is there too fully to ignore, but not a word can be said about it. All you can hope is that he returns — and that when he does, he does not fumble in front of your father. If he does, the poor string tied to your rib may snap, and you would be adrift forever.

______

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