#also “chiding softly�� really surprises me?

[mommyslittlebird]

Mama

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

Summary: After a few months of staying with Wanda, she decides to take you on a vacation, but overwhelming feeling boil to the surface and get in the way.

CW: Stepmother/stepdaughter, unrequited love, mommy issues

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Happy Mother's Day! This took me forever, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Thank you to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl for the help while I was trying to finish this up.

Chapter 1 of Mama

Before Wanda, the term “Mama” had always been a sore spot for you. It was a word that sort of seemed to highlight a wound, a gaping hole inside of you. “Mama” was an absence: not only a thing you could not have, but also a thing you could not know. Even in your mind, which had grown so used to mothering itself, you could not conceptualize a Mama.

You could only glue together bits and pieces of women you had admired throughout your life. You liked the way the after school lady braided your hair. You liked that your neighbor let you pick flowers from her garden. You liked your friend's mom’s muffin recipe. You liked your 11th grade English teacher’s soothing voice and soft smile. 

But the flimsy fragments of kind women could not fill the mama shaped hole in your chest. Because, at the end of the day, there were still no soft arms to run into. There were still no gentle hands patching up your scraped knees or neatly folded notes in the bottom of your lunchbox. 

That is, until there was Wanda. 

Suddenly, “mama” had a meaning again. It was no longer a word of absence or distant fantasies. It was a word of admiration and love and the absolute certainty that you were safe and cared for. 

You sat on Wanda’s lap, anxiously fidgeting with her rings. You were allowed to do things like this with Wanda, sit in her lap and play with her rings like a nervous child. It wasn’t frowned upon or chided as a child’s habit. Instead, Wanda gently wrapped her arm around your waist, splaying the hand you weren’t playing with across your stomach. “What’s wrong, angel?”

You shrugged. “I’m nervous. For our trip tomorrow.” You and Wanda had decided on what she called a “girl’s weekend” this week. You hadn’t done a lot of travelling with Wanda. You hadn’t done a lot of travelling, period. But Wanda had planned a trip special for the two of you in… Pennsylvania? She promised to make it a low pressure trip. It was just over a three day weekend, so you didn’t want to do anything too energy intensive. You did have to go back to class on Monday. 

She pulled you back against her chest and kissed the crown of your head. “There’s nothing to worry about, baby. I’ll take care of everything.”

“I know. But…” you stammered, turning back to face her. “what if… I don’t know… you know that sometimes I get to not feeling good, and I’m not always up for going out….” You had a really sensitive and unpredictable stomach. You had a tendency to get sick from eating random things, or even nothing at all. It had always been the bane of your existence when it came to plans like this. You dreaded having to drop out of things at the last minute because you started to feel sick all of the sudden. Everyone, even the people who acknowledged you couldn’t help it, was always so annoyed with you when it happened. You could hardly blame them, though, it was terribly inconvenient to have your well thought out plans so consistently wrecked by the same issue over and over again. Wanda hadn’t gotten annoyed with it yet, but you were sure that it would only be a matter of time. 

She sighed empathically. She was more than familiar with your health issues and your insecurities around them. She also knew there was nothing exactly she could tell you to make them go away. All she could do was show up again and again, every time you felt sick and needed her. She pressed another kiss to your head. “Then we’ll curl up in bed and watch Full House reruns until you feel better,” she reassured softly. “I know I wanted to surprise you, but…” she crooned, leaning forward and resting her chin on your shoulder, draping her arms around your waist, “I’d like to remind you I planned this trip with you in mind. I know you well enough to know that a weekend full of grand plans and action packed adventure isn’t really your speed.” She rubbed your forearms, gently caressing them up and down. “I’m not taking you to Pennsylvania because I just love Pennsylvania. I’m taking you on a trip because I want to spend a weekend with you, even if that’s just in a hotel bed.” 

You took both of her hands in yours and leaned your head back onto her shoulder. “Thank you,” you swallowed quietly. You turned your head to nuzzle her cheek. You weren’t used to someone going so far out of their way to customize something special just for you. 

“Of course, baby,” she smiled. “Anything for my special girl.” She kissed your temple and whispered in your ear. “Bring a bathing suit.”

***********

The “hotel” Wanda mentioned actually turned out to be more of a resort. It was right up your alley with a mixture of genuinely nice, elegant features and kitschy, over the top opulence. It was technically a couple’s resort that went really overboard with the Valentine’s Day-esque theme. The lobby and halls all had bright red carpet with gold accents. There were hearts everywhere, from the carpet to the curly trim leading up to the ceiling. It was just absurd enough to be funny rather than an odd place for your stepmother to take you on a trip. 

The kitschy opulence only increased as you made your way to your room. The room was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. In fact, “room” wasn’t even the word you’d use to describe it. You walked into a sort of small lounge area with a loveseat, an armchair, and a small tv. But the most notable feature was the wall directly across from the door. It was made entirely of mirrors aside from what appeared to be a giant coupe glass. There was a small doorway behind the mirror that led to a staircase up to the top of the glass. You stepped into the center of the glass, which was about the size of a hot tub. You were shocked to see it had a drain and a faucet. 

“Is this a bathtub?” you gasped excitedly. 

Wanda giggled and nodded, looking up at you from the lounge. “A jacuzzi. But yes, it is.” 

Continuing down the hallway, you found the bedroom. It was a massive, circular bed with a mirror on the ceiling. The white sheets were littered with red and pink rose petals. You jumped on to the bed, sending the rose petals flying. Wanda laughed from the doorway. 

“So? What do you think?” she asked, a slight nervous lilt in her voice. She realized how odd it may seem, to bring her stepdaughter to a couple’s resort, but it seemed like the perfect place to take you. It would have more than enough entertainment for the next two days, but it didn’t require you to go out and do things that may drain you. Most of the entertainment was localized to the resort, if not in the room itself. There was a rooftop bar, a few restaurants, a small arcade, a big pool, and even a putt putt course.  

“I love it!” you giggled. 

Wanda smiled, pointing to the glass door on the other side of the bedroom. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”

You walked over to the door, opening it to reveal a room made almost entirely of glass, overlooking the beautiful forest that surrounded the resort. The room was relatively small, but in the center there was a small, heart-shaped pool. 

You gasped. “Is this just ours?”

She nodded. “Just for you and me.”

You threw yourself into her, smiling dopily. “Thank you, mama. Truly, this is… magnificent. Exceeding all expectations.”

She squeezed you tight and kissed the top of your head. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your coconut shampoo. “Anything for you, my darling,” she said with a smile. 

You walked to the window, looking out over the beautiful resort property. There was a small forest, a lake, and a larger outdoor pool. You put your hand to the window, gasping in awe. Wanda came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. She trailed her hand up your arm, drawing your hand back to your own waist. She rested her chin on your shoulder. “I was thinking we do seafood tonight?” she suggested. You loved seafood. “We could doordash it. Have it brought straight to the room.”

You cupped her cheek, nuzzling her face against yours. “That sounds lovely,” you hummed pleasantly. 

She kissed your temple. “You want to wash up? Then we can spend the evening in our pajamas, and watch something on the television. You can pick out something on Netflix or youtube.”

You giggled. “You know me so well.”

It didn’t surprise you to find the shower was just as spacious and luxurious as the rest of the hotel room. It had three shower heads so two people could shower at the same time without leaving anyone out of the water. It made for a heavenly showering experience, even just for one person.  

You put on your favorite silky pajamas, drying out your hair and clearing out of the bathroom so Wanda could shower.

You laid prone on the giant bed, staring up at the ceiling mirror while you waited on Wanda. You couldn’t stop smiling, still giddy about the absurdly fancy room and the carefully chosen resort. Your preference for more relaxed activities was frequently overlooked when it came to vacations. It’s a large part of the reason you hated traveling. You hated feeling like dead weight in groups of high energy people who wanted to explore and do as much as they could possibly squeeze into a short period of time. It made it so trips were a thing of over exhaustion and stretching yourself too thin rather than a source of joy.  

But Wanda didn’t put your preferences and needs in a secondary category that she had to work around. She took them in stride, working with them rather than around them. She wanted to prove that it was completely possible to have a good vacation that catered to your easy going nature. And she succeeded. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, getting out of the shower and drying her hair with a towel in the doorway. She threw the towel in the hamper and came to sit on the bed next to you. 

You scooted closer to her, resting your head on her lower stomach “I’m just… happy. Grateful. You did an excellent job to find this place.”

She smiled down at you, carding her fingers through your hair. “I’m really glad you like it,” she said in a low voice. “I was a little nervous, honestly. I know a couples resort is an… odd pick. But I know you like it best when it’s just the two of us. And, well, there’s really no better place for two people to be alone together. Plenty of… privacy.” 

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, I guess they don’t make a lot of self-contained resorts for mothers and daughters to hang out alone, huh?”

She chuckled. “That they do not.”

“It’s okay. I think we can handle a couple rose petals and shoddy sex jokes,” you joked and shifted to lay next to her. 

She giggled, tucking your hair behind your ear while she admired your giddy smile. She rubbed your chin. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” 

There was a long moment of silence while the two of you stared at each other with wide smiles. You had so much joy and love in your heart. And then, something in your brain short circuited. 

There were supposed to be categories in my mind that differentiated between different types of love. The way you loved your family is different from the way you loved your friends, which is different from the way you loved your romantic partner and so on. You loved Wanda as a mother, but you didn’t exactly know how to love a mother. There wasn’t a category for this thing you were feeling. There was just love. So you did what you knew how to do when you loved someone. You leaned forward and kissed her. 

And she kissed you back, for a moment. It was more out of shock than anything. But the moment her mind registered what was happening, she pulled away, pushing gently against your sternum. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. There was a long moment before she started again. “Honey… we… I…” she stammered, unsure of what to say or where to start. 

You didn’t let her sit in the discomfort long, though. As soon as the paralyzing shock of what’d you’d done wore away, you shot upwards and out of the bed, making a b line for the door.

“Sweetheart… wait…” she said, sitting up to try and stop you. Grab you before you get away. Anything to keep you from leaving. But she wasn’t fast enough. By the time she was on her feet, you were already through the door.

You didn’t know where you were going. The hallways of the hotel were disorienting without any clear signage or direction. The walls, previously hilarious and gaudy, were now overwhelming and suffocating. The red and gold patterned carpet seemed to stretch on infinitely, repeating over and over again with the same diamond shapes under your feet no matter how fast or far you ran. You finally found a stairwell, one that was clearly not meant for guest use, and you rushed down the stairs. Unlike the highly stylized hallways and elevators, the stairwell was a poorly-lit, echoey cement chamber that twisted downwards further than you could see. You only stopped when you hit a dead end: a locked door that presumably led into the basement. You scrambled under the final flight of stairs, tucked your knees to your chest, and sobbed. 

You ruined it. You ruined everything. You’d spent your entire life searching for something to fill the mom-shaped hole in your heart, and you just happened to find the greatest woman in the entire world. She’d given you everything you could ever want and more, made you feel whole in ways you’d never dreamed of, and you repaid her with a paraphilic, pseudo-incestous kiss. 

You heard the door click open from the top floor, the sound echoing like a gunshot down the stairwell. Then, her voice: “Y/N? Y/N are you in here?” She sounded panicked, out of breath like she’d run through every corridor in the building looking for you. 

You would have stayed silent, if you could have, but the flat concrete walls of the stairwell amplified every choked cry by 10. You could already hear her running down the steps. She found you tucked in the back corner under the last flight of stairs, trembling and shaking with the effort of staying quiet.

“Oh baby,” she sighed, kneeling down beside you and wiping the hair from your wet cheeks. “Come here.” She sat cross legged against the wall next to you and pulled you into her lap, gathering your quivering body up into her arms. She kissed your head, resting her chin on top of it while she rocked you back and forth. 

You wanted to protest: tell her to go away and wait for you back in the room, but you couldn’t. You just cried harder and harder until your body was heaving with the effort. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed, muffled by the fabric of her pajama shirt. “I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she soothed, running her hand up and down your spine. “It’s okay. I understand it was just an accident. It happens sometimes. Our bodies get confused and our feelings spill out in ways we don’t mean. I understand, angel. I know that’s not how you feel about me.”

You swallowed, choking down a sob. It didn’t come as a surprise that Wanda forgave you so easily, but her words twisted up your insides. Maybe because you didn’t think you deserved them, or worse. Maybe you knew, somewhere deep inside of yourself, that they weren’t true. What you had done wasn’t some knee jerk reaction that held no meaning or reflected nothing about how you felt towards her. No. You didn’t kiss her by mistake. You kissed her because you wanted to. Because you loved her.

“And what if…” you stammered, too upset to stop yourself. “What if it is? What if that is how I feel about you?”

Wanda’s hand froze on your back, and she stopped rocking. Her entire body went taut like a bow string about to snap. Then she sighed, relaxing and continuing her movements. She kissed your head again, swallowing hard before whispering into your hair. “Then we’ll figure that out too,” she said finally. “We’ll figure that out too.” 

[cera-writes]

Pretty pleeeease some nightcrawler smut with a more sub!nightcrawler?😭 Or just reader spoiling him and calling him a pretty boy, praising him, etc

A/N: say no more... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!Reader Tags: nsfw, oral sex (giving), praise, and just pure smut

Nothing but Praise

It was late into the night at the X-Mansion, the usual sounds of mutant powers and training sessions replaced by a serene silence. You were in the library, a book open on your lap, but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts kept drifting to Kurt, the enigmatic Nightcrawler, whose presence had become a constant in your daydreams.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Kurt appeared in a puff of smoke and brimstone right beside you. His sudden arrival startled you, causing you to drop your book with a soft thud.

"Kurt! You really need to stop doing that," you chided gently, though there was no real heat in your words.

He offered a sheepish grin, his blue fur shimmering slightly under the library's soft lighting. "Sorry, mein Freund. I forget sometimes how my teleportation can startle."

You shook your head, smiling as you picked up your book. "It's okay. What brings you here so late?"

Kurt hesitated, his tail flicking nervously behind him. "I... I could not sleep. Thought maybe I could find a book to help pass the time."

You noticed the slight tremor in his voice, the vulnerability hidden beneath his playful exterior. "Come here," you said softly, patting the seat next to you.

Kurt sat down, his proximity sending a thrill through you. You could see the fatigue around his eyes, the weight of recent battles and missions taking their toll.

"You know, Kurt," you began, turning to face him, "you don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to let someone take care of you."

His yellow eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something deeper, something yearning. "I... I do not know how to be anything else," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, gently touching his cheek. "Let me show you," you whispered back, your thumb brushing against his fur.

Kurt's breath hitched, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them again, they were filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. "Ich verstehe nicht, was du willst," he murmured, his German accent thickening with emotion.

"I want to spoil you, Kurt," you explained, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. "I want to tell you how amazing you are, how beautiful."

His tail wrapped around your wrist, a silent plea for reassurance. "Really?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

"Really," you confirmed, leaning closer. "You deserve to be praised, to be taken care of. Let me be the one to do that for you."

Kurt's eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, a slow smile spread across his face. "Then show me, bitte," he whispered, his voice husky with anticipation.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "With pleasure, pretty boy," you murmured against his skin, feeling him shiver at the term of endearment.

As you pulled back, you saw the trust and desire in his eyes, a promise of what was to come. Tonight, you would show Kurt just how much he meant to you, in ways neither of you would ever forget.

You led Kurt to a more secluded corner of the library, where plush armchairs and a soft rug promised comfort. The dim light cast shadows that danced around you, creating an intimate atmosphere. None of the other students were permitted in the library this late, so it was just the two of you.

"Kurt, you're not just strong or brave," you began, your voice low and soothing as you sat down, pulling him gently onto your lap. His body was surprisingly light, his tail coiling around your leg in a silent affirmation of trust. "You're also incredibly gentle and kind. It's one of the many things I adore about you."

He looked at you, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and pleasure. "Danke, mein Freund," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Ich... ich weiß nicht, wie ich soll..."

"Shh," you whispered, placing a finger on his lips. "Let me do the talking for now. You just enjoy being taken care of."

You ran your hands through his fur, feeling the softness under your fingers. Kurt leaned into your touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Encouraged by his response, you continued, your hands moving down to massage his shoulders. He tensed briefly before relaxing under your ministrations, his head falling back slightly.

"You're so beautiful, Kurt," you said, your voice husky with desire. "Every part of you is perfect."

His cheeks darkened under his fur, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Du bist zu gut zu mir," he whispered, his eyes half-closed in pleasure.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. He responded eagerly, his tongue darting out to meet yours. The kiss deepened, filled with a passion that had been simmering between you both for too long. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless.

"I want to make you feel good, Kurt," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you like."

Kurt hesitated, then spoke softly, his German accent making each word sound like a melody. "Ich mag es, wenn du mich streichelst, und deine Zunge auf meiner Haut... you-your tongue, Liebling. Just... anywhere on me."

You nodded, understanding his desires. You began by trailing kisses down his neck, each one eliciting a shiver from him. Your hands roamed over his chest, tweaking his nipples gently, causing him to gasp.

"Ah, ja... genau so," Kurt moaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Encouraged, you moved lower, unzipping his jumpsuit slowly. His chest heaved with anticipation as you exposed more of his blue skin. You kissed every inch of newly revealed flesh, your hands caressing his sides.

"You're doing so well, pretty boy," you praised, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping him.

You reached his erection, already hard and straining against his suit. With a gentle tug, you freed it, admiring its size and shape. Kurt whimpered, his hands clenching in the fabric of the armchair.

"Suck me, bitte," he pleaded, his voice shaky with need.

Without hesitation, you moved in front of him, letting him take the chair as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly. Then, you leaned in, taking him into your mouth. Kurt cried out, his hips bucking slightly as you took him deeper.

"Mein Gott, du bist so gut," he gasped, his hands tangling in your hair.

You bobbed your head, swirling your tongue around him, enjoying the taste and feel of him. Each moan and plea only spurred you on, eager to bring him closer to the edge.

As Kurt's moans grew louder, his body tensing with the impending climax, you knew this was just the beginning of a night filled with exploration and pleasure.

You continued to lavish attention on Kurt, your mouth working diligently around his shaft as you felt his body tense with each passing moment. His hands gripped your hair, guiding you gently but firmly, a silent command for more intensity. You complied, increasing the pace of your movements, your tongue swirling and flicking in ways that made him gasp and moan.

"Ah, mein Gott... du bist wirklich gut dabei," Kurt panted, his voice thick with desire and a hint of awe. His tail tightened around your leg, a physical sign of his growing pleasure.

You pulled back slightly, teasing the tip of his erection with the flat of your tongue, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. "You like that, pretty boy?" you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes.

Kurt nodded, his eyes half-lidded and filled with lust. "Ja, bitte, mehr," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Satisfied, you engulfed him again, this time taking him deeper than before. Your hand moved to cup his balls, gently rolling them between your fingers as you sucked. Kurt's hips bucked involuntarily, caught in the throes of pleasure you were expertly weaving around him.

"Du... du bringst mich um," he gasped, his body trembling as he neared his peak.

You hummed around him, the vibrations adding another layer to his building climax. With one final, deep suck, you pulled back, letting him slip from your lips with an audible pop. Kurt's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes wide and unfocused.

"Not yet, Kurt," you whispered, your voice a sultry tease. "I want to feel you come undone completely."

Standing up, you guided him to lie down on the soft rug, his body compliant under yours. You straddled him, your hands roaming over his chest, tweaking and pinching his nipples until he moaned beneath you.

"Please, I need... I need to feel you," Kurt begged, his hands reaching up to pull you down for a kiss.

You obliged, kissing him deeply as your hands moved lower, teasing the sensitive skin around his erection. You stroked him slowly, watching as his face contorted with pleasure, his mouth forming silent words of encouragement and praise.

"Tell me what you want, Kurt," you whispered against his lips, your hand stilling.

"I need you, I need to feel you," he breathed out, his eyes locked onto yours, pleading.

Understanding his desire, you positioned yourself above him, gripping his shaft to line it inside of you. His precum coated your fingers and it was enough to coat yourself for him before letting him enter you.

"Ready, pretty boy?" you asked, your voice husky with anticipation.

Kurt nodded, his hands gripping your hips. "Ja, bitte, tu es," he urged.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you rolled your hips, feeling him deep inside of you. Kurt's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as he tilted his head back in pure ecstasy. You gasped, your own breath shallow with the effort of holding back.

Once Kurt nodded, you began to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed as he moaned and encouraged you. Each thrust brought him deeper into you, the friction building deliciously between you.

"Mein Gott, du fühlst so gut," Kurt cried out, his hands moving to your back, urging you closer.

You leaned down, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss, your movements becoming more urgent. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with Kurt's increasingly desperate cries.

As you felt your own climax approaching, you bit back another moan, biting your lips as the sight of Kurt panting and nearly crying from pleasure nearly sent you over the edge.

"Cum for me, Kurt," you commanded, your voice rough with desire.

Kurt cried out, his body arching off the ground as he came, his release spurting between you as he pulled out. The sight of him losing control sent you over the edge, and you stroked yourself a few more times just before climaxing, your own cry echoing his.

Collapsing beside him, you pulled him close, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat and other fluids. Kurt nuzzled into your neck, murmuring soft thanks and praises in German, his voice content and sated.

"Anytime, pretty boy," you whispered back, kissing the top of his head. "Anytime."

[heian-era-housewife]

I read ur shiu/toji x reader omegaverse fanfic and let me just say THAT SHIT WAS A BANGER!!! I was writing this to see if u could write a gojo and geto x reader omegaverse fanfic, plz!! (Love the writing very sigma)

Thank you so much!!! 💕

That was my first time dipping into the (sometimes very confusing/intricate) but equally fun and interesting omegaverse. I know everyone has their own interpretations, and I'm probably playing a bit fast and loose with the "rules" of the genre, but I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Thanks also for your request! Apologies for the wait. Things have been a bit hectic lately, but I hope I've done the dynamic duo justice.

Synopsis | When Gojo makes an unexpected discovery, he turns to you for advice. Luckily, you know just the person who can help. How will things "heat up" when your mate Geto enters the scene?

Content | mdni 18+, f!reader x gojo x geto, omegaverse, threesome, oral (f receiving), sex (mm/fm), swearing, biting/marking, mention of blood.

A/N | This fic takes place in the dorms of Juju Tech during their latter student days. All characters are 18+

Word Count | 2.7k

When a knock came on your dormroom door in the middle of the night, the last person you expected to see was a sweating, panting Satoru Gojo.

Top of your class and possibly the strongest sorcerer the world had ever known, Gojo was every bit the alpha everyone knew him to be. Though his reputation preceded him, you knew him best as just plain Satoru. Lover of sweets and showing off. Best friend and perfect foil to your boyfriend, Suguru Geto, not to mention the only one who could rival him in both looks and talent. There was only one explanation as to why he'd be here, at your door, a flushed and pitiful mess.

"I told you not to overdo it." You chided, ushering him in. "You know you can't keep up with those guys."

It wasn't the first time you'd seen him sloppy drunk, but you were surprised he'd come to you rather than stay with the rest of the group. Where everyone else had gone out for drinks and karaoke, you had opted for a quiet night at home.

Grabbing a damp cloth, you blotted his sweat-stained brow as he threw himself on your shabby dormroom couch.

"You know, for an alpha you're quite the lightweight." You teased.

"I'm...not." He panted, eyes downcast.

"Okay. Deny it all you want, but I've seen you drink."

"No...I..."

"It's a little sad, really" you chuckled to yourself.

"No!" He snapped, startling you from your ramblings."I'm...I'm not an alpha..." he finished.

You blinked, the cloth you were holding now hovering just above him where you froze in place. A drip landing squarely on his forehead the only movement as you stared, stark still and speechless. He pushed your hand away.

"I'm not an alpha and I'm not drunk." He said matter-of-factly. "I think I'm in heat."

"Satoru, I-"

"That's why I'm here." He continued. "I wanted to know what you do. How you usually deal with it."

"Oh..." You paused awkwardly, hand drifting to the mark on your neck. "Well, Geto and I usually..."

"Before that, I mean. Before you and Geto got together, what did you do?" He urged, frustration building.

"I was lucky." You said softly. "Geto was there for my first heat. I never had to go it alone."

"I see..."

Words eluded you as you stared at your friend. Satoru Gojo, the Satoru Gojo...an omega?

"Who else knows-"

"No one." He cut you off before you could finish. "Not a soul. I didn’t even know for sure until...well until tonight."

You'd heard of these kinds of things happening. A presumed omega presenting later in life as an alpha when they hit their first rut. A supposed alpha suddenly ripe with sweet smelling pheromones and an urge to nest. Though rare, these things did happen. Just not to people you knew. And certainly not to someone like Satoru Gojo. If your head was spinning, you could only imagine how he felt. His ice blue eyes met yours with a pleading look. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you thought.

It's true you had always been spoiled. While others were forced to slump through their partnerless heats, you had Geto from the very start. At the first sign, he would help you with your nests, staying over in your dorm and skipping classes as needed. He had both the empathy and tenderness to talk you through the worst of your discomfort, as well as the strength and stamina to bed you down any which way and as many times as you needed. A proverbial beauty and beast in one perfect package.

And then there was Gojo. Now that you were thinking on it, Gojo had his own way of being there for you too, whether or not he even realized. Always coming by with snacks and movies. His sweatshirts accidentally making their way into your nests whenever he and Geto swapped by mistake. His voice often the last you'd hear before drifting to sleep as the two friends laughed late into the night in the room beside you.

In a way, dating Geto was sort of like having two partners. They came as a package deal. Gojo was a constant presence within your relationship, at times making you wonder if you were the third wheel, not the other way around. And though his swaggering overconfidence and crude humor were in stark contrast to Geto's quiet assurance and even-temper, there was something so alluring, almost necessary, about the opposing qualities that made you yearn for both.

You couldn't believe what you were about to say. Couldn't stop the words from coming, nor the shameful excitement from welling in your chest. Here was something you never thought possible- something you'd only dared to imagine in your silkiest daydreams, unfolding right before you. A chance to make those dreams a reality. A chance to have your cake and eat it too.

"You know...this might sound crazy," you began tentatively, articulating each word as carefully as if it might detonate upon delivery. "We could ask Suguru if he might be willing to-"

"Ask Suguru what now?" Just then the door swung open causing both you and Gojo to jump. Your wide and guilty looking eyes met those of your boyfriend as he strode into the dorm, his look of worry turning to relief then quickly back to worry. "I've been looking all over for you," he tutted at Gojo. "The way you ran off earlier I thought-"

Geto's words hitched in his throat. He was struck by something hauntingly familiar, causing his mind to race and skin to prickle. The intoxicating scent of heat and slick flooded his senses, goading him as if by some invisible force. He looked at you, confusion written across his face. You weren't due for another heat yet. And even if you were, why was Gojo here in the middle of the night instead of him? In fact, why was Gojo here at all? A hailstorm of emotion rained down in dizzying waves as Geto reached desperately for answers through the haze of sickly sweet pheromones.

He looked to his friend, gaze settling over his brilliant hair and porcelain skin, momentarily adrift in the vast sea of those crystal blue eyes. Suddenly feeling inexplicably shy, he glanced downward noticing the gentle part in his lips, the subtle curve of his neck, the supple skin he wished he could just...bite...

"You..." he breathed, realization dawning. "It's you."

Gojo nodded slowly.

More silence. The would-be lovers bound by the chains of forced friendship and repressed feelings.

You cleared your throat. "Suguru, I was just saying maybe-"

"Yes!" He cut you off, connecting the words unspoken. "Yes. Sorry. I mean if...if that's..."

You couldn't help the smile that crept across your face, or the way your hand clasped eagerly around Gojo's, heart racing as he squeezed back.

Geto knelt by the couch, face serious as the next several minutes were spent in earnest discussion.

Fondness and pheromones aside, he wasn't about to jeopardize his relationship with his mate, nor his best friend. As the three of you spoke, mutual attraction, the façade of friendship, and years' worth of unrequitted feelings unveiled themselves between blushing cheeks and downcast eyes. Only after everyone's intentions and desires were made clear, did he allow the fog of infatuation to take its hold.

"Let's get you comfortable, shall we?" Geto said, scooping Gojo's lanky form with ease as he carried him toward the bedroom. You had to stifle a laugh at Gojo's unconvincing protests, pampered grin betraying his utter delight at being carried despite his string of objections. Geto tossed him playfully onto the plush mattress where you were collecting items for a nest that held just as much of your essence as it did Geto's.

Gojo nuzzled in to the scent-laden fabric, the harsh edge of discomfort starting to melt away from his handsome features, but there was still only one thing that could ease the bristling affliction of a standing heat.

You gave Gojo a devious grin, eager to show him something even his six eyes would find awe-inspiring. Slowly you began to help Geto undress.

Gojo moaned, brows knit together as he leaned into Geto's sultry kisses. He'd been stripped down and sat on the edge of the bed, your arms and legs wrapping around from behind him. Reaching around, you gently stroked his pretty two-toned cock while the two men explored each other's trembling lips. His blushing pink tip leaked silky pearls into your hand while you ran your palm over his generous length.

When Gojo's moans turned to pleading whines and his hips began rutting hungrily into your fist, Geto leaned forward, pressing his wet lips to yours over Gojo's shoulder, before he scooped his friend once more, pulling him gently from your grip and helping him wrap his long legs around his cinched waist. Gojo threw his head back, rubbing his length in languid strokes over Geto's rigid abs. The raven-haired sorcerer burried his face in the crook of Gojo's moonlit neck, breathing him in. Together, they rocked, arms wrapped tightly around one another before a drawn-out whimper from Gojo sent his friend into a tantric storm of thrusting that pushed Gojo's back against the room's wooden panelling, one of Geto's hands planted firmly on Gojo's ass, the other plastered flat against the wall beside his head. Twisting kisses drawing gasping breaths from his pounding chest, every thrust sinking Geto's aching cock to the hilt.

Watching your boyfriend fuck the life out of Gojo against your dormroom wall was sending you into a dizzying heat of your own. Slick stained the sheets beneath you as you rubbed your throbbing clit to the beat of their movements. You couldn't help but lose yourself in the beautifully fucked out expression of Gojo who appeared to be reaching his limits.

"Fuckk" he rasped, pausing long enough to pull his hair from his elastic, black tresses falling over sculpted shoulders in a way that made you crave him even more.

"Suguru..." you pleaded, no longer satisfied just being a spectator.

Gojo's feet hit the floor before Geto spun him in place, using a firm hand on the back of his neck to bend him over onto the matress before plunging his greedy cock back into his sweet-smelling slick.

"I'm getting -fuck- I'm getting closer," Geto panted. "He's so fucking tight. Maybe you can t-talk him through it for me."

Snowy bangs, now doused in sweat clung to Gojo's feverish brow. Brushing them gently away, you pressed a cool kiss to his forehead, praising the sorcerer. With his hands in yours, soft words of encouragement fell from your lips, faces low to the dormroom matress, his rocking in time to powerful thrusts.

"You're doing so good, just a little longer." You cooed. Gojo nodded in reply, pink tongue hanging from his open mouth, drawing ragged breaths.

He arched his back into Geto's sharp thrusts, hips lifting from the matress, his leaky tip drawing dewy lines over the bedding as his heavy cock bounced in perfect rythm to the movement.

"I-I need it," he breathed. "This is torture, I need it." Gojo looked desperate- starved.

"I know, baby. He's almost there," you assured him.

"No, hahhh," he moaned, a wild look darkening his radiant gaze. "I need you," he urged. "Want t'taste you."

His words caught you by complete surprise, stunned he could even think straight the way Geto was railing him into your mattress- thrilled that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

"Oh fuuu-" he rutted his ass back into a gasping Geto, flashing that feral smile as he dragged you toward him, firm grip on your hips. Geto's eyes widened as he watched Gojo spread your plush thighs, licking his way to the source of your slick.

With each rock forward, Gojo thrust his tongue deeper into your slit, drinking you in. Your squirms fueled his hunger, soft tongue dipping into you over and over, but it wasn't enough. He needed more.

Geto couldn't look away. He stared, hips slowing their movements as he watched Gojo plunge not two, but three long fingers into your sopping cunt- the one Geto would usually be servicing himself. He stopped moving entirely, mouth going dry. In turn, Gojo stopped too, craning his neck to look at the man behind him.

For a moment, Gojo froze, thinking he'd gone too far, fearing his friend may be having second thoughts about sharing his beloved mate. Then, Geto found his voice, heavy thrusts picking up as he spoke.

"Get under him." It was more of an order than a suggestion.

"What?" You said, struck again by the unexpected.

"Get under him. Please." His eyes met yours in desperate yearning. "I need to watch you fuck each other." His eyes rolled back at the thought, while he pumped his cock into the very man he wanted to see you under.

You and Gojo exchanged a look. Hungry. Excited. Aching for one another. You didn't need to be asked again.

You mewled as Gojo stretched you on his impressive length, deep veins dragging deliciously against your gummy walls. You sucked him in eagerly, shameless squelches sounding from the slick that now coated your inner thighs.

How was this happening? How did you get here?

Not long ago you were spending a peaceful evening alone. Now you found yourself staring up at the two most beautiful men you knew, both inside and out, from where you lay underneath their swaying bodies.

Geto stood beside the bed, fingers tight on Gojo's hips, gorgeous bangs falling softly over his flushed face. Each breath from his open mouth sent them fluttering forward before coming to rest again on his inviting lips.

What a sight to behold.

Gojo leaned down to whisper in your ear, cheek resting against yours, a wry smile twisting his lips as he spoke your own words back to you.

"You're doing so good, just a little longer."

"Ngh...I-"

"Shhh..." he hushed your words with an empassioned kiss causing you to clench on his length."Let's -hahh- show Suguru how good we can c-cum for him."

A final smack from his heavy balls was all it took to set you off. Slick poured from your core as you doused him in your pleasure. A thirsty groan was pulled from his chest at the rush of your walls closing in on his girth. Without thinking, Gojo leaned in to the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth savagely over Geto's mark. Heavy loads of hot cum filled you as his groans of pleasure vibrated against your broken skin.

Geto picked up speed. A familiar, wild look in his eyes, blown pupils turning them to lustful pools of inky black.

"Fuckkk!" He growled, hands coming down on either side of your head as he laid his body across Gojo's broad back. You knew what was coming next.

"S-Satoru." You said, stroking his frosted locks. He groaned a reply, still firmly attached to the spot on your neck. "Take my hand."

Your fingers intertwined just in time to see Geto throw himself over Gojo's shoulder, biting down hard on the base of his neck. The two men moaned their rapture as Gojo squeezed the life from your hand. His glossy lips, now tinged with blood, trembled delicately as he whimpered. You knew too well, Geto's knot was substantial.

"That's it, 'Toru." You cooed.

You felt his body tense from the stretch, felt him pulse with each spurt as Geto unloaded. Little pearls of hot seed dripped onto your quivering thighs below. You could only imagine how full poor Gojo must be if there was enough to slide past that soul-splitting knot.

The two collapsed in a shared exhale, your soft praises offering sweet comfort to the weary man between you.

Gojo peered up at you from where his head rested on your chest. "Now what?" He asked, relying on your seasoned know-how.

You parted his flattened hair and smoothed his brow with another assuring kiss. "Now we wait." Geto gave you a knowing smile from over Gojo's shoulder, chin resting on folded hands, nothing but love in his tired eyes.

"Now we wait."

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[4:47 am]

(cw: wife!reader)

CEO!Johnny had been mad since the second he heard about this early meeting. That was a week ago. Well, not mad, more like pouty. For a few months now he’d gotten used to going into the office a little later so that he could have his mornings with you. Nothing too crazy, just a half hour later, but after all the hard work he’d put in for the company, he felt he deserved the half hour with his wife. The mornings were blissful, waking up and cuddling with you. Following that up with coffee and breakfast together and bidding each other goodbye with a kiss before heading in your respective directions.

But today, today felt like hell. He was up before the sun was coming up, waking up while bakers were still baking for the morning rush, while children were still fast asleep and in dreamland before going to school. Getting ready before you were even thinking about waking up. Hell, you were deep in rem sleep right now.

A part of him wanted to be selfish and wake you up. At the very least, to have your company. He wouldn’t force you out of the warmth of your shared bed. He just missed you… and today would be a long day. Going in early to talk to overseas investors and spending the rest of the day finalizing reports for the end of the quarter. He was already tired of it all.

Johnny dragged his feet while he sipped his coffee and willed the caffeine to kick in. He was bone tired. He had even stolen some of your under eye patches to help with the puffiness under his eyes. He sighed tiredly, tying his tie and fixed his hair one last time.

He turned off the light in the bathroom and padded across the bedroom to your sleeping form. He pressed a kiss to your forehead whispering a quiet, “have a good day, baby.”

He wishes he could say he felt accomplished since he had been awake so early and working almost as long. He talked to the investors, he got a lot of paperwork done, and he drank a lot of coffee. And still he didn’t feel good knowing his soft mornings with his wife had been torn away.

So it came it as no surprise when your FaceTime call came in at your usual wake up and get ready hour. He smiled brightly as his thumb slid across the screen to answer your call. He was met with your pouty face surrounded with the white sheets of your shared bed, “you didn’t wake me up.”

Johnny laughs, “baby, it was like 5 in the morning! Good morning though, how are you?”

“I dunno,” you grumble, “my husband doesn’t love me so…”

Johnny chuckles softly, slumping back in his very expensive desk chair, “I do love you. I love you so much that I didn’t interrupt your sleep. I did consider it though.”

“If you really loved me you’d have woken me up,” you argue playfully.

“I think you’ll love me when you see what I left you in the kitchen,” Johnny tells you, lifting his brows with a smirk.

He watches you move through the halls, hair messy and free. He watches your eyes light up when you saw the surprise he’d left for you. “Breakfast and coffee. Wow, I guess you do love me,” you tease, “thank you though, baby. I appreciate it.”

“I think you’ll also be happy to know that I’ll be home early today. I haven’t told anyone yet, but I will be. I deserve it after waking up at 4 in the morning."

"I don't think your secretary would approve of that," you chide, arching your brow a him through the camera.

"Well, she wasn't here at 5 in the morning was she? Plus, she'll like it when she gets to go home early too," Johnny yawns, "I'll pick up dinner on the way home, baby. Have a good day. You off to work?"

You shake your head with a smile, "nope, took the day off. I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you too," Johnny responds before hanging up. Damn, he should have taken the day off too, especially since his CFO was more than capable of doing this on their own. He drags a tired hand down his face, he was definitely going to put in for a long vacation and it you off to some resort where you both could spend the whole day in bed if you wanted to.

[supermarketbae]

ok so *cracks knuckles* im really obsessed with subby sleepy billy lately. It’s winter night, you both are wrapped under the covers,his face nuzzled into your neck, his mouth wide open looking like an angel, his big muscular body ontop of yours using your entire body as a pillow. you are just ruffling his hair enjoying his presence, kissing his face. You hear him mumbling something, and he gently grinds his bulge against you, but he’s still asleep so doesn’t realise fully what he’s doing and stops after a few movements. my cute baby boy. You give his painfully hard dick some comfort by giving him a handjob, hes so sensitive- waking up sleepily moaning just in so much pleasure just mumbling so much about how good it feels❤️

AHEM- just-just- yk what-

We're making it out of the mental asylum with this one 🔥🔥🔥

Warnings: smutttt (we're back folks), praise, sub! billy, somnophilia maybe sorta slightly, reader has fem anatomy, overstim, uhhmm yea that's it y'all, oh no formatting but you guys should just expect that by now.

The howl of the wind against the house is what shook you from your sleep. It never surprised you how quickly the weather could drastically change. Shifting a little, you stifle a giggle as you feel your boyfriends arms tighten around your waist. Now, of course, Billy Hargrove would never admit it, but he was just a big teddy bear when it came to you. "Emphasis on big" you thought to yourself as his body, currently on top of yours dwarfs you. Simpering lightly you smile wide running a hand through Billy's golden curls, some of the long strands tickling your neck. At this, Billy shifts against you. Not something uncommon, except for the small whine that bubbled up out of him as his hips dragged over yours. His hips shudder into that slow, lazy circle again, you muffle a moan when his hardening dick presses oh so deliciously into your clothed cunt. Billy lets out a soft moan again, and you smirk.

"My poor baby" you whisper into the darkness. As you press yourself upward, Billy ruts against you with a pathetic whimper. Then, pushing his shoulder lightly, he rolls off of you onto his back. You don't miss the furrowing of his brows at the loss of heat. You also certainly don't miss the large wet spot as well as the significant bulge in his boxers. You clench your thighs at the lewd sight. Grinning sultrily, you trail a hand softly over it, mouth watering as Billy's dick twitches from the light stimulation. Fingers tracing gently over the waistband of his boxers, you move them down.

Your eyes widen. His cock is flushed red and angry, precum leaking so miserably. You chuckle sadistically as you bring your hand so teasingly up his length. As Billy's whines increase in volume you smile pressing kisses to his flushed cheeks. As your thumb circles the head of his dick, Billy's eye's flutter open. He looks at you mouth trembling in pleasure. "I-oh-oh fuck feels so good" he groans as his eyes roll. You bit your lip at his words your arousal spiking at his high pitched sounds. "Does it baby?" you coo hotly in his ear. "I think I would know since you were rutting against me in your sleep." You choose this moment to nibble at his ear.

Billy whines letting out an intelligible drawl. "I'm sorry 'm sorry so horny for you so-ohh god- ohgod~" he mewls as you jerk him off faster. "So good for me honey" you say as you bite, suckling at his neck. Billy's face contorts in pleasure as you continue stroking his throbbing dick. "Oh-I- nghhhhh- i- right there-right there god-pleassee" Billy shudders against you as the head of his cock continues to leak. "My pretty precious boy" you laugh smugly as he bucks up into your hand. "So needy darling..." you chide as Billy writhes beneath your grasp. "i- oh- ah- so it's so- good- I- wanna cum please baby" Billy mewls. "Ohh," you chuckle condescendingly "Is my good boy gonna cum?" you ask sickeningly sweet. "Yes-yea please wanna cum mmph-please" Billy cries breath fluttering as he whines. "Then cum for me hon, did so good." you whisper in his ear. Billy's eyes widen as his abs tighten and he cums moaning your name sounding wreaked and hazy.

His breath is coming out in small hiccups as he mutters a small "thank you that was-" His eyes widen as your hand continues to pump him lazily. Billy whimpers as you look down at him, climbing on top.

"I never said I was done love." you smile as he looks up at you and his whimpers start to increase in volume.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: it physically pained me not to add a mommy kink to this shhhhhh

[ajalholland]

Talk (Reno x reader)

Warnings: none

Characters: Reno and Rude. (Y/n) mentioned.

Plot: Reno tells Rude about his growing feelings toward (Y/n)

Rude sat hunched over his desk, poring over stacks of paperwork. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. He flipped through the pages with practiced efficiency, his eyes scanning for any discrepancies or errors. Across from him, his long-time partner Reno fidgeted in his seat, his gaze darting around the room like a caged animal.

Rude glanced up, noticing Reno's restlessness. The redhead was drumming his fingers on the desk, his legs bouncing anxiously. Rude sighed, setting down his pen. "Something on your mind?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

Reno's tapping fingers came to an abrupt halt as he looked over at Rude, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. "Nah, just bored out of my skull," he said, leaning back in his chair with a theatrical yawn. He fidgeted with the pen in his hand, twirling it between his nimble fingers as if it would provide a distraction from his thoughts... thoughts about her.

Rude raised an eyebrow, not fooled by Reno's attempt to dismiss the obvious. "You've been drumming your fingers on the desk for the past ten minutes. I know you, Reno," he said, his tone mildly chiding.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. It was clear that he wasn't buying the act. "What's really bothering you? And don't give me some bullshit answer. I know when you're not being honest."

Reno let out a sigh, the sound filled with mock annoyance. "Fine, you caught me. I'm not just bored; I'm friggin restless," he grumbled, flinging the pen aside.

He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. "It's just... there's this girl, okay? And she's... she's..." He trailed off, his cheeks tinged with an unusual hint of pink.

Rude's eyes widened slightly in surprise before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He never expected to see Reno getting flustered over a girl. "Go on," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "I'm all ears."

Reno let out a defeated sigh. He never could hide anything from Rude. "She's... she's just... different," he mused, his mind momentarily distracted by images of her.

"She's got this quirky sense of humor, and a cute lopsided smile. Damn it, I can't..." He paused, his hand running through his messy red locks. "She's the complete opposite of my usual type."

Rude chuckled softly, amused by Reno's struggle to articulate his attraction. He had seen his partner go through countless flings and short-term relationships, but this time seemed different. There was a genuine vulnerability in Reno's eyes that usually wasn't present when he talked about women.

"Opposite type, huh?" he said, arching an eyebrow. "What's she like then?""She's... she's got this innocence about her," Reno mumbled, his usually mocking smirk replaced by a soft smile.

"This girl... she's different. She wears these big, oversized clothes, her hair's a mess, and she's got this look about her." Reno paused, letting out a defeated sigh. "She's also hella awkward and kinda oblivious... but damn, she's cute as hell."

Rude listened intently, surprised by the uncharacteristically sentimental tone in Reno's voice. He had never seen his partner so smitten before.

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Rude's lips. "Sounds like you've really got it bad," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

 Reno let out a long, exaggerated groan, his cheeks flushed slightly. "Yeah, she's... she's like a damn walking disaster. I catch her off balance, and she'll fall face-first. She mumbles when she's flustered, and she says the most random things."

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair again. "It's... kinda adorable, I guess. But she has no idea about how damn attractive she is. It drives me insane."

Rude smiled, enjoying the rare display of vulnerability from his usually boisterous partner. To see Reno, the charismatic ladies' man, completely smitten by an awkward girl was a sight to behold.

"So you've got a thing for a clumsy girl," he remarked, a hint of teasing in his tone. "Never pegged you for the kind to go for that."

Reno rolled his eyes, his usual cocky demeanor returning for a moment. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, man. I know what you're thinking. 'Reno, falling for a clumsy, awkward girl? What happened to the suave and charming lady killer?'"

He slumped back in his chair, a hint of dejection in his voice. "I don't get it either, believe me. It's as if she's got this weird, damn spell on me."

Rude chuckled again, a deep, earthy sound. Reno's distress was both amusing and endearing. He folded his arms, leaning forward slightly.

"It sounds like she's got you wrapped around her finger, whether she knows it or not," he said with a smile.

 Suddenly the door opened and the receptionist from downstairs walks in with a bouquet of flowers. "Flowers for Reno?" She read off the card.

Reno's eyes widened as the receptionist announced the arrival of the flowers. Surprise, then curiosity washed over his face. "For me? Who the hell would send me flowers?" he murmured, rising from his chair.

Rude chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. The sight of Reno receiving flowers, of all things, was a novelty. "You have a secret admirer?" he quipped as Reno approached the receptionist.

Reno shot Rude a glare, his cheeks a pink hue. "Ha ha, very funny," he retorted sarcastically.He accepted the bouquet, his eyes scanning the card to identify the sender. Suddenly, his heart quickened as he read the name.

"Well, will you look at that," Rude said with a sly smile, his eyes flickering from Reno to the bouquet in his hands.

He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the spectacle unfolding before him. "Looks like your little girlfriend sent you flowers."

Reno's heart threatened to thump right out of his chest as he gazed down at the bouquet, the sweet scent of the flowers wafting around him.

"Damn," he murmured, a dumbfounded grin spreading across his face. "She even included a note."

He unfolded the small piece of paper, his eyes eagerly devouring the words. His heart fluttered as he read her scrawled words.

Reno, I know flowers are a cliche, but I also know guys don't get them often. Hope work is going well! ~(Y/n)

He let out a small chuckle, his heart swelling with affection. "She's... she's unbelievable," he mumbled, a mixture of disbelief and adoration in his voice.

Rude chuckled, watching as Reno's usually confident facade melted away, replaced by a softer, more tender expression.

"Looks like she's got you smitten," he said with a smile. "The great Reno, undone by a bouquet of flowers and a note." He leaned forward, feigning seriousness.

Reno flipped him the bird, still too absorbed in the sweetness of (Y/n)'s gesture to fully process Rude's teasing. He gently traced the petals of the flowers, his eyes never leaving the card.

"She's... she's too damn sweet for her own good," he muttered, shaking his head in awe. "She has no idea... no idea what she does to me."

Rude smirked, enjoying the rare moment of vulnerability and sentimentality from his partner. He leaned back in his chair, a small chuckle escaping him.

"You better put a ring on her finger," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Otherwise someone else will swoop in and steal her."

Reno's head shot up, panic flashing in his eyes. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't joke about that..." he said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

The mere idea of another man stealing (Y/n) from him sent a pang of jealousy coursing through his veins.

Reno then blushed, "J-just shut up, man," he replied, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "It's... it's too soon for that. Besides, I doubt she feels the same way about me."

He glanced down at the flowers again, the realization of his own feelings making butterflies dance in his stomach.Rude raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Too soon? You're in love, man," he said, amusement still dancing in his eyes. "And what makes you so sure she doesn't feel the same?"

He leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on the desk. "She's sending you flowers, leaving sweet notes. I think it's pretty clear she's into you."

Reno opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his tongue. He slumped back in his chair, his tough exterior faltering for a moment. "I... guess you have a point," he muttered, his gaze returning to the flowers.

"Its just... she's too good for me. She's all domestic and sweetness, and I'm..." He trailed off, the harsh reality of his own profession hanging unspoken in the air.

Rude's expression softened, his playful smirk giving way to a more serious look. He understood the turmoil Reno was going through better than most.

"You know, Reno," he began, his voice gentle but firm. "You're more than just a Turk. You're a good man despite the work we do."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes meeting Reno's. "And you're worthy of good things, like love and happiness. Don't sell yourself short."

Reno's eyes widened in surprise at Rude's words. It was rare for his friend to be this sincere. He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think so?" he asked, vulnerability evident in his tone.

He fidgeted with the bouquet. "I just... I don't want to screw this up..."

Rude nodded, his gaze steady. "I do think so," he affirmed, his voice reassuring. He leaned forward slightly, his tone becoming more serious. "And if you truly care about her, if you truly want this to be more than just a casual thing, then you have to be honest with her."

Rude's eyes flickered to the bouquet. "Trust me, she's already showing you her feelings in a very obvious way. It's your turn to reciprocate."

Reno sighed, the weight of Rude's words settling on his shoulders. "You're right," he acknowledged, his hands clenching and unclenching involuntarily. "I need to be honest. I need to tell her how I feel."

The thought of baring his heart to her was both terrifying and exhilarating. "It's just... I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It's freakin terrifying."

Rude chuckled softly at Reno’s uncharacteristic display of vulnerability.He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. "It is scary," he agreed, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. "It's a risk, to let yourself feel this way and put yourself out there. But sometimes, the biggest risks lead to the greatest rewards." He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting Reno's. "If you're going to do this, you have to commit. Don't half-ass it. You have to go all in."

Reno nodded, his mind racing. "I know," he said firmly, determination setting into his jaw. "I'm not gonna screw this up. I'm gonna do it right." He got up, grabbing his stuff.

Rude smiled, satisfied that he had gotten through to his partner.

As the redhead started to leave, he called out one last time. "Hey, Reno," he said, his tone teasing. "Just remember, don't mess this up. I don't want to deal with your moping if she rejects you."

Reno rolled his eyes, flipping Rude the middle finger before leaving.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he called back, feigning confidence. "We'll see who's laughing when I'm showing her off to everyone." He quickly pushed open the door and stalked out of the room, the sound of Rude's quiet chuckle following him

[ariacore-xd]

haaay ! very shy but can u do luka x reader. like theyre already probably a couple, but it's just a daily life of them (and prolly what its like for them both in the alien stage.) thank uuu,, (I love my men blonde, manipulative, and cunty hell yeah I love Luka)

"My world would have collapsed, had it not been you."

Hello anon! No need to be shy <3 I'd be honoured to fulfill your request! (Also Real I love Luka too if you haven't figured it out yet :3)

Contents: Luka x reader (interpret as gn or fem), Canon Alien stage Au, cuddling(?), Mentions of death, Fluff, comfort, sfw, short ass fic Enjoy<3

—"Hey gorgeous.. I see you've forgotten to lock the door, hm?.."

His tired voice sounded in your ears, breaking the silence that had settled in, much to your surprise.

You quickly turned around from your spot on the mattress just to look at his frail figure leaning against the doorway, eyes closed.

"Luka..? You're not supposed to-"

"Not supposed to be out in this hour.. need to go back to my room.. yadayada.." A sorry excuse of a smirk graced his tired features, his eyes finally opening to look at you.

"You really think I care about being caught and punished by that old, slimy creature? Please."

The quiet sounds of his footsteps against the cold floor soothed your ears for some reason, but it wasn't enough to calm the growing concern for him. He didn't look well, at all. And your suspicions were further confirmed when you felt his arms wrap around your torso, quietly tucking his head underneath your chin in the process and letting you feel the heat of his forehead against your skin.

He hummed when you gently brushed his hair up, his eyes fluttering shut in the process as you massaged his temple. You heard him muttering something incoherent under his breath.. something along the lines of "..'m tired.." or "migraines.."

This careless asshole.

"Luka, you don't know how freaking hot your forehead is, and you're here in my arms instead of resting in your bed. Don't do this again. You know how your guardian is. If he finds out, we won't be able to meet anymore and—"

A cold finger shushed you from chiding him further.

"Scared about me, moonbeam? Did you think I'd ever let that happen?"

Now his eyes were on yours, looking at you from underneath his position with tired amusement.

The look on your face made him chuckle softly, reaching out his hand to gently trace the curve of your cheek, his thumb finally coming to brush against the supple flesh.

"Hey.. don't look at me like that. It doesn't suit you.."

He raised his eyebrows, letting the coldness of his fingers seep into your skin. It gave him some level of satisfaction, seeing you shiver. You gently pushed his hand away, holding it in your grasp and rubbing it in an attempt to warm up his fingers.

"If you weren't such an idiot, I wouldn't be making this face."

He chuckled, before gently moving his head away from your throat to look at you properly, watching your expression with lazy eyes, before sighing and pulling your side to his chest.

"oh gorgeous.."

He hummed as his cheek gently rubbed against yours, feeling the smoothness of your skin gliding against his. His fingers pushed themselves into the heel of your palm, slowly intertwining your fingers with his. A sigh left his lips, the huff of air gently blowing against your skin like a lover's caress.

"...I would be willing to do anything for you. Even if it's breaking the rules, even if it means suffering painful torture from my guardian.. it would always be worth it."

He turned your face towards his gently, his light yellow orbs gracing yours.

"Because I'm doing it for you. No one else."

A sigh left your lips as your gaze lingered on his face for a moment longer, before embracing him tightly, bringing him into the warmth of your body. He willingly sank into your embrace, not minding the sudden show of affection, stroking your hair and twirling the smooth strands between his fingers as the soft notes of your perfume assaulted his senses.

"... Just don't hurt yourself, or leave me. That's all I want."

Luka smiled at your foolish response unbeknownst to you, hugging you tightly in the process. You were naive, dumb and delusional to ever think that he wouldn't leave you one day, alone on this planet without any warning.

And he wanted to protect that naivety in you. As long as he was here, by your side.

A/N: Hi so.. I'm actually alive!?

[tragedybunny]

hiya! for the Very Secret Santa =) would love anything fluffy and sweet with just Astarion or Astarion/Tav enjoying a starry night outside. Thank you in advance!

Hope you enjoy this gift! Very special thank you to @satanicspinosaurus for the lovely beta work.

All the Wonders Of the Night - Astarion x GN!Tav

It was the middle of the night, and you were trekking outside of Baldur’s Gate like someone who either didn’t know or didn’t care about the possible dangers outside the walls. Being outside those walls was an important part of your plans though 

You’d spent the night in Rivington, and now you left the last road, and plodded south through the open fields. 

“Where in the hells are you dragging me,” your companion fussed behind you, causing you to smile. Astarion had made strides in the last couple of weeks, but he was still somewhat the irritable vampire you had met on the beach that day. It also seemed that he wasn’t exactly fond of surprises, but this would be worth it, and he must have trusted in that to agree to come with. 

“Not too much further my Love,” you called back behind you, as you navigated your way forward.

“You’re lucky I adore you,” he returned, sounding a bit more chipper. Perhaps he was aware he had come off a little hostile a moment ago. You tried not to correct or police him too much, but there were times it was hurtful and you couldn’t help but say something. 

“I offered to carry the pack,” you remind him teasingly. 

“And let you claim you did all the work?” You must have slowed a bit because he’d closed the distance to wrap his arms around you. “You’d like that wouldn’t you,” he asked, nuzzling into your neck. 

“I could never think to steal your glory.” You answer, grasping his hand to pull him along beside you. 

A few more minutes and you’ve reached your destination, a moderate hill rising out of the grassy plain surrounding it. It’s not much elevation, but it is higher than where you stand. “Up we go,” you say brightly and hear a sigh beside you, which may or may not be sincere. 

The top of the hill offers a calm view, the Chionthar, a dark ribbon on the horizon, and Baldur’s Gate, a collection of lights. Around you, a sea of grass ripples in the gentle night breeze. Not a single stray cloud disrupts the gleaming sky above. A night as perfect as you could ever ask for. 

“This is it,” you announce brightly. 

Astarion looks around skeptically and begins to shed the pack he was carrying. “I’m going to trust you on this one, darling.” 

Taking the pack from him, you kiss his cheek softly, pretending not to notice how he still flushes at small, affectionate gestures. “You won't be disappointed.” 

The heavens are moving though and you'll have to make haste to be ready in time. The supplies in the pack really just amount to a couple bed rolls, some extra blankets, a bottle of wine, and a bit of food for yourself. You’re not so worried about Astarion getting hungry as you’re used to finding yourself the snack when he’s peckish. Quickly, you arrange everything into a comfortable little spot to lay back and look at the sky. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” you say, inviting him to join you as you settle onto the bedrolls, wrapping a blanket over your legs. 

“If you insist,” he says with a grin that you know means mischief. 

In a moment, Astarion is sprawled across your blankets, head in your lap. “You’re like an ill-behaved cat,” you chide and run your hands through his curls. 

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.” A kiss is blown your way, and you just sigh, because you know he’s right. Instead, you fumble your way around him to open up the bottle of wine, without moving him from your lap. “Not to be impatient darling, but I am a little curious why we’re out here.”

You let the first sip of wine wash over your tongue before you answer. It’s white, sweet, melodic, and fruity - the kind of wine Astarion claims to hate. The truth, you know, is that he can’t taste the same as he did before his current state of being. Even the darkest, deepest reds taste cheap to him. You give him every happiness that’s at your disposal, maybe in time you’ll be able to give this too. But for now, tonight will have to do. 

 Taking a glance at the heavens, you gauge the time. “You’ll see soon en-'' Your words are cut off by the first falling star, streaking across the sky. Apparently you were off by a few minutes in your calculations. 

“Oh…” Had you managed to render Astarion speechless? Even with your slight error in timing, his crimson eyes are locked on the sky in enchantment. 

The first falling star was accompanied by another soon after and you poured Astarion a glass of wine even if he’d fuss about the taste. He took it without complaint, head still nestled in your lap, as even more bursts of light filled the night sky above you. 

The rain of stars began to rhythmically fall from the heavens, a dazzling display of lights. The two of you were uncharacteristically silent, attention rapt to the phenomena above you. You let your hand continue to run through Astarion’s hair, every once in a while caressing an ear or skimming your fingers along his forehead. In response, he snatched your hand, alternating between gentle kisses and playful nibbles each time. 

When the pace slowed a bit Astarion finally shifted, pulling you down so that you were lying next to him for a proper cuddle. “So,” you asked nervously, wondering what he’d made of the surprise. 

“That was quite lovely my sweet. And you went to all the work to drag me out here to see it.” He nuzzled against your cheek, leaving soft kisses. 

“Does that mean you enjoyed it?” Face buried in his curls, you inhaled. 

“I..,” his voice catches a little, “I did. You can’t see much of these things from the places I was spending my nights in and obviously Cazador wasn’t going to let us wander off to go star gazing.” You give him a light squeeze, a quiet acknowledgement of that small piece of everything he endured, not even the autonomy to look up at the stars. “But I do have to ask why you decided on this particular outing?”

“You see, it is beautiful, but it’s something beautiful you can only see at night. The night holds a lot of wonders that one can’t experience in the day, you included.” 

“Oh, stop,” his voice trembles.

“I brought you out here to show you, the night is vibrant, alive, and full of wonderful, beautiful things. And I’ll have no regrets about living my life in it, if I get to share it with you. I know you’ve been worried about that.”

Astarion sniffles and buries his face in your neck. “I suppose this means there’s no changing your mind.” 

Your arms tighten around him, holding him close. “You’re stuck with me. I love you, and I want this life with you more than anything.”

Above you, stray stars still fall as you kiss Astarion softly. Relaxing into your touch, you feel his hand on your waist, gripping as though he never wants to see this moment end. But tonight is just the first of many to come, nights as numerous as the stars still standing firm in the heavens.  

@micropoe10 @writingmysanity

Tag list:

@mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin  @bambamwolf87 

@fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress

@bhaalbaaby

[kitkabam]

The Light Behind Your Eyes - A Vyn Richter/Reader.

Things were good, but then they got worse. Dr Richter is here for you, always.

(A vent fic I wrote during a very dark time in my life, and wished Vyn was there to help me. It was around 2022, and it gathered dust in my Google Docs until I originally posted it on ao3. Since I found that some really appreciated the deep writing, I thought it would be good to cross-post on Tumblr. Please know that if you yourself are struggling, you are never alone. If you, or anyone you know, needs help, please never hesitate to reach out to those you trust. Not really a romance-centered fic, but of course, it's suggested they like each other. Reader is NOT the beautiful Rosa.) (Also, yes, the title is a My Chemical Romance Song.)

TW; Implied Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Ideation, Depression, Implied Self-Harm, Depression Symptoms, Heavy Mental Health Issues.

 The light filtered through the trees, the remnants of the early morning rain shower washed away as a rainbow displayed itself across a sea of endless blue, white clouds rolling by without a single care in the world. The window in your psychiatrists office always piqued your interest from the moment you would walk in; accompanied by the nose tickling scent of fresh tea, something floral and sweet, as well as the clinking of fine china as a cup is set onto the small side table beside the chair you found oddly comfortable despite its off shape. Sometimes you’d catch your gaze naturally drift to the window, as if drawn to the sky…before your psychiatrist softly chides you for daydreaming in the middle of your consultation. You never miss the small smile he holds, signifying the playful nature of his words, as well as the way he writes down another little note in his book; probably something about you spacing out again, as you always seemed to have done from day one of treatment. 

 There was nothing that could slip past the infamous Dr. Richter. You once teased that he’d be the sort of man to notice even the smallest changes in a woman’s home, like a new set of curtains that look only slightly different from the last one. He chuckled, warmly and genuinely, with a slight shake of his head. You’d taken it as a sign of modesty, only for you to be proven wrong the very next day when you stopped by to pick up something you left behind by accident during your appointment. He complimented the tiny bit of makeup you decided to wear, just to raise your own spirits, a smug little smirk on his lips as he turned away, leaving you to blush in silence and watch his back as it disappeared behind the door. 

 It’s why you weren’t very surprised when he noticed your relapse before you could even tell your mental state was getting worse again. You thought you were on your way to a real recovery, the world around you adorned with much more color than you believed there was, your smile less forced, and your holding a twinkle that your friends always complimented. You were proud of your progress, under the impression that the medicine was working, that these walks to the Gianovyn Research Center were not for nothing. Your treatment plan was seeing so much good progress…so then how did it all come crashing down so fast? 

 Slowly you started to isolate yourself from your loved ones even more, you lost the passion you did for the one thing that brought you light in this dark world, and getting out of bed took much more energy than it should’ve. Then you stopped taking care of basic hygiene, you’d skip meals because your appetite was not existent…or you’d eat comfort food nonstop in order to cope with your emotions. 

 Dr. Richter had asked once if you were getting proper sleep; you responded with some excuse that your brain reassured you he’d believe you were watching some new show and you lost track of time or you were up late on the phone with a friend. You never let it slip that your mind would start to race, that you’d be tossing and turning for hours as the voice inside your head degraded you, bringing up everything you’ve done wrong from the moment you were born to the present. 

 He would ask you about any new writing projects, expecting the usual eagerness that followed as you’d excitedly talk about some new characters you thought of or some plot ideas you needed to brainstorm over more before taking it roughly to paper. He’d slightly frown when he saw the shrug he was instead answered with, a mumbled explanation about having a drought of writer's block. In truth, you just never saw the point anymore. 

 Just like you stopped seeing the point in living. 

 After all, who would miss you? Your friends must be burdened by your existence. Your family would have one less thing to worry over, wondering if you’d ever get better enough to get back on your feet. Dr. Richter … 

 Well, he’d have one less patient to fill up his schedule, right? He’d have more time to find someone else worth helping, a person that’d make more progress and stay on the right path to healing. 

 And, as these thoughts filled your mind, your tired eyes rested on a familiar razor’s edge. It was pathetic; everyone commended you on how strong you were, yet as you stood before your bathroom mirror you looked so vulnerable… so weak. It would just be once, wouldn’t it? Yeah, just one time. Who cares if you’ve been clean for two years now…? It’d give you the brief release you needed, the escape from this horrible black and white reality you lived in. 

 If only it was just that one time.

 Once became twice.

 Three, four…

 Before you knew it, there you were, back in the office of your psychiatrist, your arms covered by the thick hoodie you wore to hide the scars that were etched across their once bare skin. The man's actions were quite elegant as he poured some freshly brewed tea into your cup; chamomile, with a hint of honey. You felt his gaze rest on you as the sound of liquid being poured out of the kettle in his hands stopped; you resisted the urge to meet it, the view of the outside leaving you enraptured. You wondered how it would feel to look down at this world from the view of the clouds…perhaps it was then you’d see the beauty that everyone else spoke of in all those poetry pieces you’d come across? 

 Dr. Richter cleared his throat; you twisted your head over then as he sat down in the seat across from where you laid back. You saw a bit of the rainbow outside reflected in his golden irises, along with a few mini versions of the clouds. It was almost as if he held a sky of his own in those eyes of his…one that threatened to leave you just as captivated. Yours, in comparison, were so dull that you could bet all the money in your wallet that an old penny from the 1900’s would hold more luster. With your attention on him, the silver haired psychologist spoke.

 “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? You know you missed the appointment we scheduled for you two months ago…can you tell me why you weren’t able to show up, Miss. (l/n)?” His voice was as rich as the tea he served, yet kept an air of pure professionality that always kept it known that he saw you as nothing more than a patient that was left in his care. 

 You wondered if he was seeing anyone…he was a rather handsome man, surely he was taken by a woman of similar beauty. 

 Your throat did dry at his question, the thought a natural tactic to distract you from the nerves that bubbled up in the pit of your stomach. You knew you needed to be honest by this point, that lying would only lead you into more trouble. And if you don't tell the truth…it only makes you fall further down into the abyss that threatens to swallow you whole. Your heart ached, your exhausted body shifting as you reached for the steaming cup of tea that waited to be enjoyed. 

 The silence was killing you, so you blew to cool off the hot drink, and took a sip to try to get more time to gather your words, as well as wet your parched throat. It was no easy feat, exposing your negative thoughts and self destructive actions to a professional in this criteria, yet it was for the better that you did. If you couldn’t help yourself, then surely this man had the ability to give you further aid, right? 

 You placed the cup back down.

 “I…didn’t want to come. I knew if I did you’d try to help and…I didn’t want that.” God, the words that came out of your mouth left a sour taste on your tongue,”I…couldn’t muster that energy to do it. I mean, what was the point?”

 His features softened, his fingers that were interlocked together unwoven as he wrote down whatever notes he needed to record down on his notepad. Your hands shook a bit as the anxiety started to seep through your whole body…what if you ended up admitted into the psychiatric unit of the Stellis Hospital…? The idea frightened you, so much so that you were much too tempted to bottle up everything else you had told yourself you would talk about today; to get this appointment over with, and return home to burrow under the blankets for another two months. Your lower lip trembled.

 “I-I don’t know, Dr. Richter…it all went bad again so fast! I don’t get it! I thought things were going amazing, my life seemed to be taking a turn for the better once I started your treatment plan, but then suddenly it all relapsed. The thoughts…they ate at me, every single night…I couldn’t sleep properly anymore, I didn’t want to go outside or write anymore…everything just lost its color. I wanted an escape from this pain, this…this bitter reality!” Tears blurred your vision, your voice grew louder as your heart cried out for sweet release,” What am I supposed to do , doctor?! The medicine isn’t working anymore! These sessions aren’t doing it for me! I can talk and talk and talk about my feelings all I want but there is this hollowness in my chest, this numbness, that won’t go away! I’m so desperate to feel something, anything, that I..I…”

 A sob cut through your words, tears rolled down your cheeks one after another as you found yourself breaking down before the eyes of a man who has seen this very scene many times with all sorts of people. You wondered if your crying would give him a headache, if the sound of it would only annoy him…until a hand rested on your shoulder, heavy and not quite as warm as you expected, but a comfort that you found yourself naturally leaning into. You looked up from your lap at the man who suddenly kneeled in front of you. Your tear swollen eyes and puffed up cheeks were on full display to him, reflected in his eyes instead of the sky that you always seemed to adore watching…yet saw no sign of irritation.

 No, for a moment you swore you saw something akin to concern, but not the type you’d usually see from a therapist or any doctor. One you’d see from a friend, a loved one, who only wanted you to be happy. 

It made your heart skip a beat, which you thought was quite inappropriate for it to do when you were in the middle of a breakdown, but you decided to let it slide. You can lecture yourself later.

It was the soft utter of your name that made your body tremble more violently; the squeeze of your shoulder that threatened to make the sob you swallowed choke back up. 

“...I won’t lie that it upsets me to see you in such a state and that you didn’t inform me sooner that your symptoms were returning, even more so getting worse. If you had I could have done something a lot sooner or..or…” His eyebrows knitted further together, as if the words he wanted to say were right on his tongue, but he refrained for your sake, not his,”...I am glad you told me now, before you could do anything too reckless. I know it must’ve taken a lot of strength to even consider coming to the appointment today and I am proud of you. But, as your psychiatrist, you must know that this only shows me you’re a danger to your own well being and I must do what I have to in order to ensure your safety, even if you might not like it.”

You knew this, yet to hear it from Vyn…it sent your emotions down into another spiral, the teardrops only continued to fall and fall…and your brain shouted at you for being so stupid, that you should’ve just lied and masked it all up like you did in the past. But no. You refused, you needed to get help- sure, you might not come out of this being the same person you were, but you’d be better and that’s all that should matter, right? Plus it was clearly what Dr. Richter thought was for the best…who were you to deny a professionals opinion in his own work?

“Of course, I’ll be here every step of the way. I will admit you into one of our rooms so I can keep a closer eye on you. I will also need to make the proper adjustments to your medications, ensure that the environment is safe, and…” Vyn cut himself off, mouth left ajar as if he just realized how much this was to take in all at once,”...My apologies, I’m getting ahead of myself. Please, take your time to let your emotions out during our session. If more time is needed, I have no further appointments after your's so it won’t be an issue. You're not alone, not now, and not going forward."

(Thank you for taking the time to read this very important fic! Honestly, if Vyn were real, I bet he could fix me. If you enjoyed this, I'd love to note that my requests are open! And the link to my Ko-Fi is in my bio if you'd like to leave a tip! If not, reblogs and likes are also so very appreciated!)

[idyllic-affections]

the coldest of nights.

summary. bubu pharmacy is a safe space.

trigger & content warnings. implied family issues, crying, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort. baizhu & teen!reader. 0.3k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

authors thoughts. i think baizhu would give good hugs. look at him. huggable. STILL DON'T LIKE WRITING FANFIC IN THIS FORMAT RRAAAHGHG 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 but it's okay for little posts like this.....

baizhu's arms are tender when he holds you.

he knows when something is wrong or has gone wrong in your life, especially when you show up at bubu pharmacy late into the night even during winter when liyue's temperatures can drop below freezing solely because you know he'll still be awake. his instinctive response is to ask if you're suffering some kind of medical emergency that couldn't wait until a more suitable time (moreso for you than for him), but he knows better. the answer is always no.

(he hopes the answer will never be yes, but he does have the means to heal you if it were ever needed. he just... hopes he doesn't ever have to, that you don't ever have to suffer some kind of serious injury or condition.)

he knows that it probably isn't medically motivated when you come in late at night sniffling, rubbing your eyes a bit too hard in an attempt to rid them of the tears, chest heaving as if you'd been yelling or running a marathon—hell, maybe you had done both. yelled and then ran from one side of liyue to the other just to seek out his comfort, that is. it would not surprise him.

and he sighs. it isn't because of you in any way; it's moreso the tragedy of your circumstance that he often finds himself lamenting over.

...and, well. he also can't help but sigh because he knows it really isn't safe for you to be out alone at night. there are vicious people—humans, to be precise; not creatures of the abyss or other entities of the like (those threats are always handled by that elusive yaksha)—who would surely take advantage of the vulnerability of a weeping teenager making their way through liyue when most others are asleep. he'll lecture you about that later, though. the last thing you need from him in such a vulnerable moment is to be chided.

his fingertips are particularly gentle against your face as he pats your tears dry, softly inquiring about what led you here this time and listening closely to whatever you choose to share with him. he opens his arms in a wordless invite and is certain to hold you for as long as you need when—if—you do accept his offer.

bubu pharmacy is, and always will be, a safe space. baizhu will always do his best to ensure that you know that.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

(A/N: Based on this post about seventeen as supermarket cashiers. Hope you guys like it!)

The chime of the bells signaling the start of Christmas day was welcoming to all but you. To you, it was nothing but a death sentence. With ten dollars in your wallet and a sleepy daughter in your arms, you felt so so tired. If there was a choice you would not have bought her with you. It was almost unbearable for you that your tiny angel was unconsciously witnessing how pathetic and powerless her mother truly was.

Picking up the cheapest looking bread, you find out that it was almost five dollars. But you had no other options. This and the american cheese that you were certain was plastic were all you could afford now. Your head was spinning thinking about how you had to puff up a cheese sandwich like it was ambrosia from the gods. When and how did you reach the checkout section you don’t even know.

“ Hello, I am Soonyoung! Can you pass me your items to scan?” The cheerful words from the cashier in front of you jolted you back to the present. Looking at him, you couldn’t help thinking that he bore a striking similarity to your daughter. Which was ridiculous. One was a five year old girl in tattered clothes, the other was a twenty something man with blond hair and striking features. Hell, he was closer to your age than your child’s. Shaking off your foolish thoughts, you reply,

“ Of course. And I would like to pay by cash.”

“ Sure! No problem.” A cheeky grin was flashed in your direction. But soon, with every second Soonyoung couldn’t get the scanner to cooperate with him, his smile dimmed a bit more. Five minutes later, he abandoned the machine with a resentful muttering of ‘always does this to him on purpose’ and was now painstakingly inputting the serial code of the cheese into the computer. At this point your arms were getting strained holding your precious cargo. No matter how small a kid was, it was tiring to hold them in one position for a long time.

“ Soonyoung, did you forget how to use the scanner again? ” A gentle voice spoke from beside you. The gentle voice was matched with gentle doe eyes and a name tag on his uniform that said ‘Joshua’.

Soonyoung whined in protest. “ I did not forget how to use that stupid machine. It’s broken again! ”

“Uh huh, sure. Please be quicker. You have already made the customer wait for a long time.” Joshua chided softly.

“Jeez, okay. Just give me a minute.” was the sullen reply.

Turning to you, Joshua asked conversationally, “ I used to love cheese sandwiches as a kid too. That’s what you were buying the bread and cheese for, right? Please say yes or I just confessed my undying love for them for nothing.”

Surprising even yourself, you giggled. But reality sobered you up in a second. With a strained smile, you replied, “ No, actually. My daughter really wanted a christmas dinner like she sees in movies. But we are on a budget so….”

With a sudden intense light in his eyes, Joshua asked, “ What is your budget? Maybe I can help? I like to cook in my free time.”

You hesitate for a moment before letting out a whispered “Ten dollars” into the air.

After a few seconds, he replied, “How about a turkey casserole and cherry pie cookie bars?”

“ Tha- that’s possible?” You couldn’t help but stutter. A small flicker of hope was born in your heart.

“ Very possible.” Joshua affirmed with a reassuring smile. The next moment his voice changed into a commanding one. “Yo, Soonyoung, leave those there and bring me two packages of sugar cookie mix, a can of cherry pie fillings, and a small tub of margarine from aisle 14 and 21.” 

“Oh, thank god.” The blond man ran away as if there was wind under him. You couldn’t help but share a helpless glance with the other man.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in your car in a daze with a full bag of groceries, handwritten recipes for an amazing dinner, and some change in your wallet. Joshua and Soonyoung may have been a whirlwind but they were also a christmas miracle. Your christmas miracle.

[snowbellewells]

HAPPY (One Day Late) BIRTHDAY KRYSTAL!!!

(I really wanted to get this posted on @kmomof4's actual birthday - I've only been trying to get this going since I promised it LAST YEAR! But you have been very patient, Krystal, and here at last is the story I'm working on for your birthday gift. Seeing as you wrote a beautiful CS AU of the Bridgerton book which is a bit of a Cinderella story, and since I've been mulling a bit of a Killian-as-the-Cinderella-character fic for some time, I've mashed that idea together with several of your mentioned fave tropes and characters/relationships from OuaT. I'm not going to list it all here. Hopefully, it will lead to more pleasantly melty surprises as we go. ;p I'll try not to keep you waiting too long between updates - and I have no idea how many chapters there will end up being. I first thought a really long one shot, then a two shot, but Killian and his fairy godmother (and Liam!) were excessively chatty, and it just kept getting longer and longer! I realize Emma isn't in it much yet, but we'll start with her next time.)

I hope you enjoy, Krystal!! I'm so glad we are friends!!!

Also available on AO3 if that is your preference...

"Dreams That You Wish Will Come True"

by: @snowbellewells

Chapter One

“But Liam,” a breathless young Killian Jones argued stubbornly, “why are you dragging me to the galley? You know all I have to get done before the Captain returns…” Swiping the shaggy dark hair back from where it hung in his eyes, long past needing a trim, the young man cringed at the sound of his own wheedling tone. Gritting his teeth and flexing his hands in frustration, Killian chided himself for questioning his elder brother’s direction and sounding like the bloody nuisance he knew he must be to Liam - strong and wise and nearly grown now. At barely seventeen, and with little experience beyond that of an indentured deckhand on a ramshackle pirate ship, what right or knowledge did he have to be so stubborn, especially not with Liam, who had only ever looked out for his best interests?

Sure enough, exasperated, Liam shook his head before responding with a huff, “Can you not just do what I say, Little Brother? For once? You’ll see in a moment.”

By this time, they had traversed the length of the ship below deck, and they stood outside the galley. They paused briefly, with Killian biting down on his tongue to prevent asking again if Liam was sure about what they were doing. To his wide-eyed astonishment, Liam raised a hand to rap his knuckles in a specific rhythm on the door that separated Cook’s domain from the dimly-lit hall. His brother gave him a bit of a wink, more mischief in it than his serious elder sibling, burdened with far too much responsibility for his years, usually showed. Curious now, Killian waited wordlessly with him until footsteps could be heard drawing nearer on the other side.

When the door was opened to them, Killian was perplexed over again as he and Liam were beckoned inward and the door closed behind them once more. Within the room, illuminated softly by a hanging lantern and a few candles scattered throughout, he saw that, not only Cook, but several of the crewmen of the Merry Rogue, had gathered in the small, already overwarm, and easily crowded room in which they took their meals. Killian was usually on his feet serving. Silver would allow nothing less from his “kitchen maid” as he often tauntingly dubbed Killian, hoping to stoke the fiery temper the young lad tried to check so he could then see him lashed for insubordination. It was only well after the others had cleared off that he and Cook could sit and take their own repast. However, those gathered now had secretive smiles and anxiously pleased looks on their faces. Killian noted easily that none of the more hateful crew members were present; neither those who ordered him about loftily, mocking him and sending him scurrying back and forth for items they didn’t really need throughout the meal, nor the cruel bosun who would stick a foot out to trip him, then cuff him for spilling and wasting food. Instead, gathered before him were the softer hearted men - perhaps misfits on the ship themselves at some earlier time before he and Liam were indentured to the vessel - who had often shown him bits of kindness and understanding when they could manage.

In spite of his earlier misgivings, he was intrigued and couldn’t help asking Cook this time, though Liam was still nearby. “What is going on here?”

The older man merely smiled kindly, motioning Killian further into the room, until he stood near its center. “You’ll soon see, lad,” Cook coaxed gently, turning to riffle through a burlap sack laid out on the galley table before offering his prize to Killian. “We’ve something to give you for the evening’s festivities.”

“Wh- what are you on about?” Killian’s brow puckered in confusion as he looked at what appeared to be a pile of folded cloth in his older friend’s hands, and at the eagerly expectant faces gathered around to watch. “Festivities? Me? I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about…”

He was shaking his head as words failed him, not sure how to deal with the puzzle before him, when he sensed Liam at his back, solid and strong. His elder brother placed a comforting hand on Killian’s shoulder and leaned in to murmur quietly in his ear. “Come now, Killy, you have to have seen the banners posted all over port for the gala at the castle, in honor of the Princess Emma’s birthday. It’s tonight.”

Killian sputtered indignantly as Liam nudged him in the side and nodded toward the stack of fine material Cook was still holding out to him. “Aye, of course I have, but - but what does that have to do with me?”

Liam responded with an even more brilliant smile, bowling Killian over with his quip, “Simple, Little Brother! If you would get a move on, we mean for you to attend that ball!”

Those words did not truly make the situation much clearer to Killian’s mind, but at Liam’s urging - knowing his sibling would never encourage something that would do him harm - he took the bundle from Cook and moved forward to lay the offering on the long, wooden table for a better view. He could see now that it was a fine coat, made of soft, midnight blue, expertly tailored and brand new, certainly the finest piece of clothing he’d ever held in his own two hands. There was also a dress shirt, a mere shade lighter, clearly meant to be worn beneath the jacket, and breeches of a soft, dove gray - all quite the ensemble and much finer than any mere deckhand or cabin boy would ever have use for. Despite that, all three items seemed to be in his particular size, and the pleased smiles on the small circle of weathered faces around him clearly meant for him to have the articles.

“This is very kind,” Killian began, trying a different tack since protesting that they must be mistaken had done no good. “These clothes are the most handsome I’ve seen, but surely no sailor, and one barely part of the crew at that, would be invited to such an event. Mayhap someone else could…”

“Perhaps I can explain,” an airy, musical voice spoke up, floating on the air like a tinkling of chimes as sparkles of light and swirls of colorful breeze seemed to catch the eyes of all those gathered in the small ship’s kitchen. Gliding gently toward him from above, a small creature - a miniature woman, a fairy!, he realized -  came to to hover before him, a sweetly bemused smile on her delicate face.

More questions flooded Killian’s brain than had already lingered; however, he was now too overwhelmed and in awe to speak any of them aloud. A fairy? Here? Where pirates cooked and swabbed the deck and ate their grub? That he would ever see such a mystical being had never entered his mind, much less the idea that he would encounter one aboard a ship which had seen much more glorious days many years ago. He was sailor enough - a superstitious lot, one and all - to believe that magic existed, fairies among the more familiar imagery of sirens and selkies, but a vague belief in theory was much different from seeing one shimmering before his own eyes, gazing on him with a benevolent smile upon her face.

Seeing that the beguiling young man before her was currently incapable of answering, the silvery-winged fairy’s laughter tinkled on the air like the pleasant ringing of tiny bells, the riotous pile of ringleted brown curls interespersed with morning glory blossoms shook with her gentle mirth before she spoke again, hastening to explain and hopefully to dispel the poor youth’s doubt and confusion. “You are Killian Jones, yes?” she queried, already certain, but awaiting his confirmation nonetheless.

Killian did manage an affirmative nod, and his lips formed a soft “aye”, though it sounded as barely more than a whisper.

“Well then, Killian Jones, it is a pleasure to meet you at long last. I have watched you from afar all your life, after all. I am Nova, your fairy godmother.”

The handsome young man’s bright blue eyes popped wide open at her pronouncement, stunning in their crystal clarity and nearly making Nova’s sweet soul cry at the hope laid bare in his expression, hope which he tried equally to rein in, clearly having already learned such lovely things were not meant for him and waiting to hear the catch. She was the most tender-hearted of all her sisters, and it had been painful for her to look on and do nothing as this mischievous, brilliant little boy had been forced into manhood far too soon. His mother’s death, his father’s abandonment, the privation and shame of unwilling servitude, the cruelty of mistreatment, and the harsh life at sea had all changed the bonny child who had boarded this ship with his father and brother years ago into the solemn young man before her, who had never truly been allowed to leave. She had chafed over and over again at being held back and kept from doing something to help her appointed charge - anything to better his lot, even slightly. Their fairy laws were fickle, and yet exacting; even as Nova honored and revered their ways and her elders, she could not claim to understand why it had taken so long to finally be deemed “the right time”.

She could tell by the furrow of his dark brow that young Killian Jones must be pondering at least some of those same questions. Where had she been these last years of backbreaking toil, pilfered rations, and vicious taunts about a father so desperate to be rid of him he had sold him away? Where had she been the first time the lash had scored his back and left bloodied stripes in its wake? She had been right there beside him, unseen, constrained from taking any action, but he had no way of knowing that.

“I - I have a fairy godmother?” he finally sputtered in stark disbelief.

Nova nodded kindly, having the good grace to look more than a little abashed. “Of course you do! Everyone does. It breaks my heart to think you’ve felt so forgotten.” She squared her shoulders and blinked rapidly, trying not to become emotional as she attempted to explain. “Unfortunately, we fairies follow a very strict code. We are forbidden to make ourselves known before the appointed time. And I kept being told it was not yet that moment…”

Killian’s mind whirled with all the new information - and with a bit of indignance at the idea that all he and Liam had been through since being abandoned and left in Silver’s dubious oversight had not been considered serious enough to merit aid. His mouth opened, and even he himself was not sure if it was a question or a retort on the tip of his tongue - but his immediate awe was finally overcome - when his diminutive magical guest clearly sensed she needed to finish her explanation, and fast. 

“My superior, the Blue Fairy, or Blue as she’s often called, is stricter about maintaining our distance and secrecy than most.” Nova shrugged her shoulders in obvious contrition as she waved her hands and a wand appeared within her grasp. “I’ve never really understood why, but that’s neither here nor there. It is finally time to grant your heart’s wish… to do something to make you life better, just as I’ve been waiting to do!”

Killian’s mouth snapped shut again at that, puzzled by her words and disarmed at the excitement bursting from her tiny frame. He had never met this Nova before, but he could hardly doubt her eager sincerity. “My wish?” he repeated uncertainly, feeling that he was trailing considerably further behind in the conversation that he ought to be. “I can’t honestly remember even making one.”

Even as he spoke those words, however, Killian knew in his heart they were not entirely true. It might not have been the focused drive of a wish upon a star, or anything that direct, but he had often thought on where he would go if he were free, what he and Liam could do if they were their own men, left to their own devices, able to seek an adventure of their choosing, honor and glory for the name of Jones which their father had sullied. Had those hopes and dreams been heard all this time, when he had felt so forgotten and ignored? It must be true, though it was hard to reconcile with his previous experiences.

Almost as if she could read his thoughts broadcast across his face, Nova nodded enthusiastically, affirming his realization. “That’s right,” she pronounced clearly, gesturing to the clothing his brother and shipmates had procured for him. The fairy -his fairy godmother! - then effortlessly waved her wand once more, causing one of the flyers ever-present about this kingdom to appear before him from out of thin air. “This ball is only the beginning for you. You have big dreams, Killian Jones, and a calling to fulfill, but you are also the only one who can see them come true. I may be giving you a bit of a boost, but you are more than enough for the task. Your heart is strong, and I have no doubt it will see you through. You only need a little belief.”

“And what exactly does a fancy royal ball have to do with anything?” he questioned. His shock was wearing off as he grew more comfortable speaking to Nova, but he wasn’t seeing why he would be needed at a princess’ birthday celebration. All the same, he scooped all the formal wear up in his arms to go and change - whether it made sense to him or not.

Nova’s entire small fae being practically twinkled at him with the playful wink she gave before answering, “Not all things are as simple as they might first appear, young sir.” With that, she lightly tapped the end of her wand on the top of his head, causing a pleasantly warm tingling to spread through Killian’s body, all the way out to his fingers and toes.

A mere moment later, amid astonished exclamations from Liam, Cook, and the others, he realized that his arms were empty; the new clothes he had been holding already magicked onto his lanky frame, along with shining new shoes upon his feet and a smart queue tied off with ribbon matching his fine shirt and a fresh, neat trim to his dark hair too. It was indeed enough to make him feel a whole new person - one who might not stand out horribly, even at the palace of Misthaven.

“There now,” Nova approved with gentle tone, a fond smile gracing her lips as she took in the full effect upon her charge. “You look quite the young gentleman.”

“Aye, you do at that!” Cook echoed with his rough but friendly voice as he clapped Killian on the shoulder heartily. “Even in our heyday, Cap’n Silver himself rarely looked so sharp!”

“I’d not let him hear you say so,” the old shipwright Ned called over jovially.

“Too right!” Cook chuckled.

The other crew members present laughed as well and began to talk amongst themselves, drifting away now that the excitement was past. Soon, only Liam stood beside him, the two brothers both looking to their benefactress where she hovered before them. Even Cook headed off for his cabin, saying his old bones were ready for his bunk, even if the night was still young.

“You look just like a fine young lieutenant,” Liam affirmed, eyes wide as he took in his younger sibling and needlessly brushed some nonexistent speck from the shoulder of Killian’s jacket. Then, bracing both of his larger hands on Killian’s upper arms, he held him out to gaze into his face seriously before offering in a choked voice, “This sort of adventure should have always been your lot.” Liam pulled Killian in abruptly and hugged him tight for several seconds, startling Killian before he held onto his brother with equal fervency.

“Thank you,” Killian finally managed when Liam released him. “I don’t know how you managed all this,” he gestured around the room, “but I am sure it began with you.”

Liam flushed slightly, looking down with a sheepish smile. “My idea, aye, but I had lots of help. And it wouldn’t have turned out nearly so well if your honest-to-goodness fairy godmother hadn’t turned up!”

Nova’s ringing laughter once again tickled their ears, her eyes crinkling up prettily as well with her good humor. “It really was my pleasure,” she rejoined. But then she added more seriously, “This is your night, Killian. There is much for you to see and to do, and I bid you enjoy every moment to its fullest. I’ve readied a carriage which will take you to the palace, and Liam can ride along with you as far as the gates. Just remember - the ride and the clothes, the gifts you’ve been granted, will vanish at midnight. It’s simply how the magic works. Make sure you are headed back by then.”

Killian nodded, promising he would do as she said; it was far longer than he could imagine needing, if the truth were told. He wasn’t at all sure what he would do there in any case. And though he wished Liam could venture inside with him, he would gladly take the ride to gather more advice and draw strength from his sibling’s company.

After that, it seemed very little time passed before - head still spinning at the sheer impossibility of it all - Killian was disembarking from a fine horsedrawn carriage at the palace gates. Looking back to grin crookedly at Liam, his brother urged once more “Have fun!” and reassured him that all would be well. Turning, Killian bravely put first one foot, and then the other, forward, until he stepped into the castle of Misthaven, a guest at a royal ball. 

He slipped his hand into his pocket to run his fingers over the ring on an old chain which had once belonged to their mother (Liam had bid him carry it this once for luck) and pulled in a deep, steadying breath as he gained his bearings. He was already dazzled beyond belief, but determined to make a good showing and bring “honor to the Jones brothers” as he murmured under his breath. Whatever he was meant to find, he would do his best.

At that, he raised his eyes, catching sight of the magnificent winding staircase trailing down from the upper floors into the main hall. Halfway down the steps, paused with one foot poised in descent, was a stunningly beautiful, golden-haired vision in sky blue and silver. Killian could scarcely take in the tiara resting upon her head or the clear resemblance she bore to her likeness on all the recent announcements for her birthday. Laying eyes on her in life had struck him motionless, frozen in place. ‘Bloody hell,’  his mind fumbled inelegantly, ‘It’s Princess Emma herself.’

So completely entranced was he, in fact, that Killian failed to realize the princess was just as stunned - equally taken in and unable to move. Their eyes met and held across the distance between them, and one more shining burst of magic was ignited then and there.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight

@stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @eastwesthomeisbest @bluewildcatfanatic @jonesfandomfanatic

@belovedcreation @goforlaunchcee @laianely @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl

@myfearless-love @undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @winterbaby89 @darkcolinodonorgasm

@gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @resident-of-storybrooke

@teamhook @revanmeetra87 @jennjenn615 @grimmswan @ultraluckycatnd

[bengiyo]

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yara ka Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Sakae rejected Kazuyo properly, and she coped with her disappointment by joining team Sakae and Soga. She helped Sakae prepare a series of surprises for Soga's birthday. Unfortunately, her boss derailed those plans, and Kazuyo got mad at Soga for not recognizing Sakae's feelings. Thanks to the added support from Kazuyo, Sakae took a step forward and told Soga about his feelings. Soga was a bit surprised, so Sakae told him to think about it. We left on Soga's ex-wife calling him and Sakae's ex showing up at his house.

Mizuki is pretty. I hope he isn't revealed to be a demon twink.

Episode 5: He's returned. What now?

Oh, I don't like Mizuki. You can't put relationships on a shelf like a toy you're bored with and just come back to it.

I love Kazuyo so much. She got Soga to admit he has more than feelings of friendship for Sakae, and then immediately called Kaname when something suspicious was going on.

Mizuki listening in at the sauna is a great gay joke. This sauna is a place only for men, so straight men could talk about their psrtners here without worry. But because Sakae and Mizuki are men, he can chase them out of the space.

I really love the squad reacting quickly to this development. Sakae may intend to be done with Mizuki and can say that without lying, but whatever emotion brought Mizuki back must be faced to get him to move on.

Ah, he got kicked out for cheating and is now hoping to land softly with Sakae, who he knows is a pushover and a sap.

I don't like Mizuki. He bailed on Sakae and is now just gonna be back and chatting with customers. Everyone knows!

Even if it's just Soga's worries, I like that this show is willing to show Sakae being intimate with another man.

Come through, Kazuyo! She is a great character for accelerating the romantic pace of this show. She reminded Soga that he could lose to a determined ex, and also chided Soga for not telling Sakae he plans to move back to Tokyo. The devil works hard, but Kanda-san works harder.

Spies and thieves! I knew he was a liar who lies with his face!

"Is he better than me?" "Yes." NOW GET OUT!

Soga, can you not walk in at the most dramatic moment???

Okay, he got jealous, Sakae pushed that he isn't a fickle person, and we learned that Soga and his ex-wife are working on having a productive relationship even if it's no longer romantic. We also got a multi-angle stationary kiss.

Another problem character next week!

This show continues to be excellent. Japanese teams heard that I wanted more adult romance and they are here to deliver. We have issues with exes, because adults have histories. We have an active support network that challenges our leads to face each other properly. Our leads can speak with each other. This is what I have wanted for so long.

[franzkafkagf]

Also tell me more about Aegyn riseeeeeee

YES YES YES

Basically the day after Aegon's coronation he invites his bestie Martyn Reyne over to "celebrate" ;) Aegon is such a brat4brat power bottom in it, he drives me INSANE. It's nearly done, here is the beginning:

👹 NSFW under the cut dont look if ur under 18 👹

Martyn reclined comfortably on the sofa, sipping on his wine as his gaze wandered around Aegon's lavishly decorated room. Tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes of dragonfire and, weirdly enough, orgies. The floors were covered with plush, intricately woven rugs and at least a dozen scented candles were scattered around the room.

"You've really outdone yourself this time, Egg," Martyn remarked, letting out a low whistle. "The place looks like something straight out of a Dragonlord's wet dream."

Behind a heavy velvet curtain, Aegon chuckled softly. "I'm glad you approve, Reyne. But I think you'll find the main attraction far more impressive than the décor."

Martyn's curiosity was piqued as he took another sip of wine. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"Patience, my dear friend," Aegon replied, still only a shadow behind a curtain. "I just need a moment to finish getting ready. Are you ready?"

Martyn leaned back, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "I'm always ready for whatever the fuck you have planned, Egg."

With a final adjustment to his appearance, Aegon took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the curtain. He was dressed in a see-through red robe that clung to his frame, the fabric leaving next to nothing to the imagination. His hair was braided and his body adorned with glimmering jewels. His lips were painted a dark red, and his eyelids were shaded in blue, accenting his piercing lilac eyes.

"Ta-da!" Aegon exclaimed, striking a pose to showcase his body. "What do you think?"

Martyn’s eyes widened in surprise before he burst out laughing, nearly spilling his wine. "By the Seven, Aegon, you look like a whore! You even got the red lips and everything."

"Fuck off, Reyne.” Aegon rolled his eyes, as he walked over to the table and poured himself a cup of wine, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "If I wanted your sarcasm, I'd have asked for it."

Martyn raised his hands, still grinning. "Alright, alright. You look... stunning, truly. Like something out of a dream."

Satisfied with the response, Aegon downed his drink. He then walked over to Martyn, stopping right in front of him. "Now, if you're done gawking, why don't you pull off your pants and show me what you've got?"

"Anything for you." Martyn's dumb grin widened as he set his wine aside and stood up, his fingers undoing the laces of his trousers. He let them drop to the floor. “Tell me, am I supposed to call you Your Grace now?”

“Shut up,” Aegon silenced him and sank to his knees before his friend, eyes dark as he looked up at him. "Tell me, Reyne, what do you want?"

Martyn's breath hitched, he wanted to bend him over and fuck him right now. "I want you to put my cock in your mouth."

"Do you now? Well, let's see if you deserve it."

With that, Aegon leaned in close, his breath impossibly warm against Martyn's skin, but he didn't touch him. Instead, he just let his lips hover close, his tongue darting out to lick the air. Martyn groaned, his hands reaching for Aegon's hair, but Aegon swatted them away.

"Ah, ah, ah," Aegon chided. "You don't get to touch the king unless he says so."

Martyn's let out a frustrated groan, but he complied, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Egg you're such a fucking tease."

"That's the point, isn't it?" he chuckled. He leaned in again, this time he let his lips brush lightly against the tip of Martyn's cock, the touch so fleeting it was almost maddening.

Martyn's hips jerked forward involuntarily, and he let out a low growl of frustration. "Please, Egg. Stop teasing."

Aegon's smile widened as he placed a delicate kiss on Martyn's length, barely grazing the sensitive skin. "Call me Your Grace," he commanded, his voice low.

Martyn's voice was strained and breathy, Aegon could be such a brat sometimes. "Please, Your Grace. Suck my cock."

Aegon finally took pity on his friend, opening his mouth and taking his friend into his mouth. Martyn let out a deep moan. Aegon's warm, wet mouth felt so perfect around him.

Aegon started moving, his tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the shaft. His movements were painfully slow, clearly enjoying how Martyn came undone.

"Fuck, Egg," Martyn groaned, fighting back the urge to grab Aegon by his hair and force him deeper. "You're amazing."

[the-pen-pot]

Fangirling for chapter 42

'I'm not the only one staring,' he replied, hoping to derail her. 'Leon's barely taken his eyes off you all evening.'

'You cannot distract me that easily.' Her chiding tone was at odds with the flush that darkened her cheeks, but she wore it well, smiling as some lord or other bowed over her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. 'Leon has good taste.' She looked at him as if debating the wisdom of her next words. 'So do you.'

Oh, I am loving Morgana more and more!😍 Clearly seeing what Arthur doesn't fully want to see yet.

And Arthur being like 'oh, no one is surprised that Merlin is dresses in my colours and I value him as much as my knights;'

Oh, you sweet idiot, even a blind person can see how much Merlin means to you at this point.

'Us,' Merlin corrected him softly. 'You know as well as I do that you'll not let me beyond those gates by myself.'

I adore them.

It was Arthur's turn to shudder, not from the icy breeze that curled around them, but from the faint, flat horror that lingered beneath Merlin's words. He remembered the spell Merlin had mentioned, the Vinthinsor. It never strayed far from his mind, but now it bloomed between them, ghastly and stark, bringing with it the same questions that had haunted Arthur since he had first heard of it.

Oh yes! I also want to know what happened during that! I am so curious but maybe not knowing is better?!

And all through it, Arthur detected the fierce protectiveness Merlin had woven into his magic. His will was its foundation, and it was unshakable. With everything he had and all the strength in his possession, Merlin wanted to keep Camelot and its people safe.

It was enough to take his breath away.

Merlin's magic is wonderful to read about. I can't get enough of it. And Merlin's eyes always shining gold when he does magic is lovely!

And then the hug between them!

They were so owerd that hug, they really were. I'm delighted so glad that you're enjoying it so much adn your curiosity is piqued!

I hope you're continuing to enhoy Hiraeth, lovely. And thanks for these messages; they really brighten my days!

[geekusfemme]

Trust

The world exploded into existence as Astarion jolted awake, his senses immediately on high alert. The forest enveloped him with its oppressive darkness, shadows twisting and swirling among the trees like malevolent spirits.

A knot of fear gripped his chest as he struggled to recall why he was here, alone in the cold stillness of the night. The earthy scent of damp leaves and moss permeated the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood - his own. He tried to sit up, but a firm pressure on his shoulder pushed him back down.

"Ah! No, you don't," a commanding voice echoed in the silence. "Sit back down and let that wound finish healing. If you make it bleed, so help me, I will knock you out again."

The pain radiating from his side brought back memories of the recent events - his encounter with Shadowheart and his desperate escape through the darkness. Groaning, Astarion leaned back against the rough texture of the tree trunk and looked up at the speaker. Ishta perched above him, her expression stern and unwavering. One knee tucked under her chin while the other leg dangled, her foot resting on his shoulder.

Astarion couldn't help feeling unsettled by how composed she seemed in his presence. Her golden eyes, usually filled with lazy charm, now gleamed with determination. It was clear that the truth about his nature was not much of a surprise to Ishta. He was painfully aware that she held all the power in this situation.

"How long have you known?" he asked wearily, his voice strained.

"That you are an idiot? About an hour," Ishta retorted, nonchalantly removing her foot from his shoulder and crossing her legs.

Astarion scowled at her but she paid no attention. "That you are a Vampire... about a week," she shrugged, her tone dismissive.

He couldn't hide his shock at her words and she gave him a wry smile in response. "I happened to be out hunting at night the same time as you. We were both after the same boar... You got there first."

Ishta gracefully slid down from her perch and sat beside him. Astarion couldn't help but admire her boldness, the way she carried herself with a confidence that bordered on recklessness.

She didn't seem to fear him at all, which both intrigued and unnerved him. He also couldn't ignore the small dagger she was twirling around in her hand - a not-so-subtle reminder of her prowess.

Ishta noticed his eyes on her blade and grinned. "Though at first I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why you were trying to hug it to death."

Despite himself, Astarion chuckled softly, the sound laced with bitterness and pain. The movement caused a wave of agony to pulse through him and he winced. Gods... you'd think after enduring 200 years of torture I'd be used to this by now. His body, despite its undead resilience, still had its limits.

Ishta chided him gently, her voice tinged with concern. "Try not to move too much until the spell has had enough time to properly do its job."

He turned slowly, his eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and wariness as they met hers. "Why are you helping me?" he asked cautiously.

Ishta paused her playful twirling of the dagger and regarded him thoughtfully. Her eyes took on a distant look, as if she were searching through memories and emotions to find the right words. A part of him feared what she might say, but he needed to know.

"Because I suffer from a terrible condition," she replied solemnly. "I've been told countless times that it will eventually kill me."

Alarm bells rang in Astarion's head. Shit... she must believe I am a True Vampire who can grant her immortality. Why else would she save my life...

"It's called a bleeding heart."

Her words startled him for a moment, and then a slow smile of comprehension spread across his face. Turning to look at Ishta, his eyes met hers, and he saw the glimmer of amusement in them.

She continued, her tone casual and confiding, "It's a terrible disease, really. I see people in trouble, and I just have this overwhelming urge to help them."

Astarion felt his whole body relax as he finally understood he had never been in any danger from Ishta - she truly didn't care about what he was.

"Sounds awful," he grinned at her, the tension melting away from his features.

—¤—

Ishta watched as a wave of emotion passed over Astarion's face, finally settling into something resembling trust. Observing the stiffness start to leave his posture as he gave her his full attention, she felt it was now safe to relax herself. Astarion had always responded well to humor and banter, so she decided to keep going with her playful 'explanation' to his question.

"It really is," she complained, shaking her head with exaggerated exasperation. "You have no idea how inconvenient it is to have to drop everything and help some poor Wizard out from inside a rock, save a grumpy Githyanki from a Goblin trap, or give up on a decent night's rest to race after some poor sod who's gone and gotten himself stabbed by an irate Cleric."

A slight smile tugged at the corners of Astarion's lips, and Ishta could see the tension draining from his body. He leaned back against the sturdy trunk of a tree, appearing more relaxed and at ease. For a moment, he seemed like his old self as he played along with her rant, nodding understandingly.

"I entirely agree, that does sound like an absolutely debilitating disease," he sympathized with a playful twinkle in his eye.

Feeling encouraged by his lifted spirits, Ishta leaned forward, resting her elbow on one knee and propping up her chin. "By the way, why did you try to take a bite out of Shadowheart?" she asked curiously, tilting her head in his direction.

A hint of tension returned to Astarion's body at the mention of his recent actions. His eyes locked onto hers as he struggled to find the right words. Ishta kept her gaze steady and non-threatening, observing the myriad of emotions crossing Astarion's face - confusion, guilt, fear - before he finally settled on resignation. He sighed and lowered his head, the weight of his actions heavy on his shoulders.

"It's not what you think. I'm not some monster," he muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I usually feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can find. I'm just too slow right now, too weak. I thought if I only had a little blood, I could think clearer, fight better. So I tried to take some from Shadowheart."

A small spark of defiance ignited in Astarion's eyes as he looked up at Ishta, pleading for understanding. "I wasn't going to hurt her, I swear. I just needed blood. But then she woke and attacked me - I had to defend myself, you understand."

Ishta held his gaze for a moment before speaking again, her thoughts racing as she remembered the bruises on Shadowheart's neck. Those marks go beyond self-defense. However, she chose not to voice her observation for now. Instead, she focused on a more pressing matter.

"Bullshit, Astarion."

"I beg your pardon?" he blinked at her, taken aback.

"You heard me. I've seen you with that bow of yours. You could hunt half the beasts in this forest without ever breaking a sweat. So what's the real reason you suddenly decided to change up your menu?" Ishta asked bluntly, her tone cutting through the night air like a blade.

Astarion's expression shifted from shock to defense, and Ishta worried that she may have pushed too far too soon. She could see him starting to retreat, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route. Realizing the need to tread carefully now to maintain control over the situation, Ishta softened her tone and reassured him.

"Astarion, please listen to me. I am not angry with you," she said gently. "I understand why you felt the need to keep this secret from us all. I just want to know why you risked exposing yourself and potentially turning us against you by choosing Shadowheart instead of the abundant game within these very woods."

Astarion focused on her again, and Ishta could see his jaw grinding under the weight of whatever decision he was trying to make.

The sounds of the forest at night grew louder in the tense silence between them, filling the air with rustling leaves, chirping insects, and the occasional hoot of an owl. Shafts of moonlight filtered through the thick canopy above, causing Astarion's eyes to glow like two crimson pools.

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh. "I needed to know," he said, his voice laced with frustration.

Ishta waited patiently for him to continue, noticing how uncomfortable he seemed as he shifted around. Whatever he was about to reveal clearly weighed heavily on his mind, but she remained calm and collected, knowing that her patience would be rewarded.

Eventually, Astarion spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "I am a Spawn. My... former master, Cazador Szarr, is a Vampire Lord in Baldur's Gate. The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power. Not political power or military power - I mean power over people. The power to control them completely. He turned me nearly two hundred years ago. I became his Spawn, and he became my tormentor."

Ishta sat up straighter, wondering if she should share what she already knew of his story, but ultimately decided against it. It was clear that he was finally opening up to her and she didn't want to interrupt or jeopardize that trust.

"So you were his slave?" she asked gently.

Astarion shook his head. "A Vampire's Spawn is less than a slave. They're a puppet. We have no choice but to obey our master's commands. They speak, and our bodies react... it's all part of the deal. Sometimes he'd order us to submit to torture. Sometimes he'd have us torture ourselves. Whatever his weathervane mood settled on," he said bitterly.

As he spoke, Astarion's eyes became distant and withdrawn, clearly reliving the horrors of his past. After what she had witnessed when her mind had linked with his all those nights ago, she couldn't blame him for being hesitant to re-live such traumatic experiences. She knew all too well the feeling of trying to bury painful memories deep within.

Leaning forward, Astarion's voice became more animated. "But ever since I was kidnapped by the Mindflayers and implanted with this worm, I have been living in a strange, twisted kind of freedom. Standing in the sun, wading through rivers, wandering into homes without an invitation - they are all perfectly mundane activities now. More importantly though, I no longer feel the pull of Cazador's hold over me..." Astarion trailed off and leaned back wearily. "At least not until tonight," he admitted quietly.

The hair on the back of Ishta's neck stood up. Now this could be a problem.

Astarion must have noticed her concern because he quickly continued. "I had a... well, a dream - or perhaps it was a vision of him earlier tonight. I could see him as clearly as I see you now. He was reminding me that I still belonged to him and reciting those damn rules."

"Rules?" Ishta raised an eyebrow in question.

Astarion held up his hand and began counting off on his fingers. "First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shalt obey me in all things. Thirdly, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine forever."

As Ishta listened to Astarion recite the first rule, everything fell into place. Knowing what she did of Vampires, the first rule made perfect sense. A Vampire's power was derived from the strength of their victims - not their physical strength, but the level of intellect and life experience that only sentient beings could provide. Animals and other lesser beasts simply could not offer the same levels of power, and if this Cazador was so obsessed with controlling people, it came as no surprise that he would force his spawn to feed on inferior beings to keep them weak and subservient.

"Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures..." Ishta repeated slowly, giving Astarion a half-smile. "So that's why you did it."

The look of surprise on his face quickly turned to begrudging admiration, confirming her theory.

Pushing herself forward and standing up, Ishta walked a few steps away, the soft earth crunching under her feet. Spinning around and placing her hands on her hips, she confronted Astarion.

"So let me get this straight," she began sternly, her voice carrying authority. "You attacked one of my team - while she was sleeping, by the way, you jerk - and risked being thrown out into the wilds alone at best," she gestured to the surrounding forest, "and being staked in the heart at worst, all just so you could give the middle finger to your old master?"

A hint of guilt flashed across Astarion's features before he replied hesitantly, "Well... uh... when you put it like that..."

Ishta watched him come to terms with just how much of a risk he had taken and sighed inwardly. If the Illithid parasite doesn't kill him first, his own recklessness will. She could understand his desire to test the limits of his newfound freedom, but his rash actions had almost ended it prematurely. As resourceful and capable as he was, Astarion clearly still needed the protection and guidance of allies. Ishta just hoped she could convince the others waiting for her in camp that he was still worth protecting. Though, if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure of that fact either.

Then, like a lightning bolt, an idea sparked in her head. A final test to determine just how far Astarion could still be trusted. It was a dangerous plan, one that filled her with trepidation and dredged up unwelcome memories. But Ishta pushed those thoughts aside, determined to see this through.

Stepping forward and crouching directly in front of him, she extended her arm and turned over her wrist, exposing the veins beneath. "Well, that's something I can get behind," she said with a wry smile.

Yeah... this is why you should never make important decisions while you're hungry.