#also i was imagining a scenario in a modern au

[melminli]

ex, for a reason

summery - your boyfriend was the sweetest guy in the whole world, but maybe that was the problem.

pairing: kang dae-ho x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: modern au, angst w/ comfort, fluff

the request.

He really shouldn't worry about it as much as he did right now because the whole thing was just totally stupid, and all the stuff that had been going through his head was irrational. Dae-ho knew that and yet, he just couldn't stop himself from imagining multiple crazy scenarios in which you were breaking up with him - he didn't want any of this, why would he? The only heart that got broken in the process was his and it was all because of nothing.

Well, maybe there was this one thing, and that was that Dae-ho had been feeling a bit - well let’s just say - insecure about your relationship. He was very much aware of the fact that he had zero resemblance to the guys you usually date because he wasn't, well - he wasn't an asshole. You and even most of you’re friends make fun of it now that you two are together and it actually turned into some kind of inside joke that you broke the curse with him. Though, Dae-ho didn’t really feel like laughing about it right now.

This whole thing is so stupid, he thought to himself as he absently watched some show on the TV before he suddenly heard you laughing next to him. He just looked at you shortly and knew that it was probably because of something funny you saw on your cell phone. But, he just couldn’t restrain himself and had to remember the conversation you had a few days ago. He sighed again with a heavy heart at the memory because apparently, your last ex - some guy named Thanos? - had messaged you out of the blue and asked you what you were up to.

"Hey, look who just sent me a text. I thought I had blocked him everywhere?" you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved your cell phone in his face. Dae-ho just looked a bit confused at the message after he read it because he didn’t really get what you were talking about. He read it one more time, though, he was still kind of lost because it honestly just looked like a normal message, how was he supposed to figure out what was going on?

You then decided to reveal the whole thing since your boyfriend just continued to send you confused glances. "It's my ex. You know, I told you about him. The one I dated before we met."

Yeah, he could remember bits and pieces of that. "So, what does he want?" he asked, still not quite sure what was going on.

You sighed at his innocence. "He obviously wants to get back together.“

"Does he?" Dae-ho asked and was seriously surprised. He pointed at your phone while he talked. "But he just asked if you still had his old sweater, that could mean anything."

You waved as you laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know what that means.“ you assured him and thought back to the old days, which was something you didn’t like to do. „We were pretty much on and off in our whole relationship because I always tried to break things off after fighting - but then always take him back afterward. So, it just started to turn into a really bad cycle at some point, I guess.“ you tried to explain. „Anyway, he used to text me about some meaningless thing as soon as he wanted to get back together and this is one of those texts since he's also not the kind of person to send you a message if he doesn't want anything from you. I’m just surprised that he would try this again because I broke things up with him for real the last time, trust me.“

Oh. It felt like Dae-ho should be laughing at your ex's desperate attempt to get back together with you now, but he felt more like ugly crying, to be honest. „Yeah, that is pretty funny.“ he just decided to say with a forced smile on his face.

Since then, the whole situation just wouldn't let him go. No matter how hard he tried to. The way you told it, made it seem like you two got back together a lot and who was to say that maybe a part of you wouldn't want to try again - purely because of muscle memory? He wasn't the type to get irrationally angry over something like that, but he'd be lying if he said that all these negative thoughts didn't make him incredibly depressed the past few days.

"Hey, I know I've asked you this a few times now, but are you sure everything's okay?" you finally asked him when you noticed how he wasn't really paying attention to what was going on in his show. It was unusual for him to be so quiet when usually some comment about what was happening would leave him every minute.

He just nodded under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he said, feeling guilty again for being the way he was right now.

You moved a little closer to him and hugged him lightly from the side. "You're lying and I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me on your own because, as you know, I'm not the most patient person on earth."

He avoided your gaze guiltily. "It's stupid."

"It's clearly not, because you've been acting like a depressed housewife for days."

He laughed lightly along with you at that little joke of yours. "And how is that supposed to look like?"

You smiled. "You know, you're like you always are - you make dinner, you bring me my favorite tea, but you sigh very loudly every now and then plus you're also a bit distant." you continued to broach the subject in a slightly joking manner to get rid of the heavy air around you two.

Of course, you would be aware of his bad mood. "Well, I just noticed that I'm not like the other guys you've dated before," he whispered casually while playing with the fabric of his shirt. Even though, you both knew that it seemed to be a topic that was bothering him.

You nodded. "So?" you just asked him, thinking something other would follow since you couldn’t see what the problem was. Though, there didn't seem to be anything more coming. "That's all? You’re upset because you're not like my shitty boyfriends in the past?" you repeated a bit in disbelief.

Dae-ho looked to the side, embarrassed. "I told you it was stupid..." he whispered. "I just don’t want you to think that I’m boring or something…"

You just took him in your arms and tried to suppress your laughter so as not to add salt to the wound. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm telling you this now because you obviously to need to hear it," you said as you placed a kiss on his head. "You're not boring. You’re the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world and I would never trade you for any of my past relationships. I love you and I've never even said those words to any of my exes, did you know that?" you asked him, watching as he slowly looked up to you. "…really?" he asked you shyly, even though you had been together for a while now.

You smiled. "Really," you assured him and were glad to see your boyfriend in his normal happy state again. However, you then remembered the conversation you had a few days ago. "Was this whole thing about Thanos? You don't have to worry about him. I hate that guy, he like probably cheated on me more times than he admitted." you laughed and stopped when something else came to mind. "Besides, I think he also stole some money from me..."

Dae-ho looked at you worriedly as he held you even tighter. "Oh my god, are you serious? You never told me that, is that why you broke up with him?"

You looked away a little embarrassed yourself this time and didn't dare to confess to him that it had unfortunately taken a lot more than that for it to end between the two of you. Those weren't your proudest moments in your life. "Yeah, sure..."

But who cared about all that, right? You were the happiest you could ever be with Dae-ho and that was all that mattered. Maybe you should remind him more of that because he really didn't deserve to feel inferior to someone like that damn Thanos.

[mikurulucky]

With the amount of times Nobotta (and Adachi in Ganso as well, to an extent, but I'll have to look further into that manga) has gotten burned by potential dates in some way, he'd totally be the clingy type.

Took years to notice a pattern, and has gone through some character development after the manga, but also gained clinginess in the process, he would absolutely SAVOR any time he spends with someone, but if someone actually confesses to liking him, not only would it take a hot minute for the fact they like him to sink in, but once he realizes they ACTUALLY like him and want to be with him for once, he becomes like a cat who adopts a human and CRAVE company and physical affection.

Poor guy is affection starved and touch starved, and hey, I'm touch starved too, so... uwu

Like, finally, he gets a break from the years of depression in a rundown apartment.

Also, he could give me the cheapest engagement ring in existence and I'd still say yes if he popped the question. ^w^

[harrywavycurly]

Imagine being woken up to the sound of someone rustling around on your front porch looking for your spare key and when you open the door ready to lay an ass kicking on the uninvited guest you see Eddie standing there. He looks a mess, his eyes are watery, his jeans have holes in them making his cut up knees visible, his cheeks are flushed and the wild part of it all is you haven’t seen him in a year since the two of you broke up.

“Eddie?” You drop your bat as he collides into your chest, his head lands on your shoulder as his arms wrap around you middle. “What are you doing here?” You ask as you try to pull away from him so you can look him in the eyes but he’s not having it, he only pulls you in closer.

“I don’t know.” He mumbles into your neck and you feel your stomach drop as his hold on you tightens. “I just came here because….it’s the last thing I remember..being here…with you.” He answers and you don’t know what to say or do so you just hold him deciding that telling him he no longer lives here and that you haven’t seen him in months isn’t a good idea at least for tonight.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory. 

You don’t want to think about him. 

Thinking about him always leads to missing him. 

It leads to longing for him. 

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind. 

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips. 

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. 

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively. 

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you. 

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh. 

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you. 

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same. 

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now. 

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear. 

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh. 

You shiver. 

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction. 

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen. 

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible. 

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting. 

The only way you knew him. 

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much. 

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to. 

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in. 

You were convenient. 

Pliable. 

An easy fuck. 

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away. 

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance. 

Not even a friend. 

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep. 

To him, you were an acquaintance. 

Pathetic. 

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since. 

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend. 

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family. 

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away. 

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch. 

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else. 

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness. 

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere. 

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver. 

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart. 

Aemond never said it. 

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it. 

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you. 

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother. 

Fucking prick. 

Today’s Friday. 

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty. 

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music. 

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks. 

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic. 

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration. 

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here. 

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here. 

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut. 

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to? 

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic. 

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies. 

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him. 

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea. 

Calling you in. 

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him. 

What do you say? 

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes. 

His gaze is cold and stoic. 

Unimpressed. 

He raises an expectant eyebrow. 

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic. 

Pathetic.

Pathetic. 

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you. 

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful. 

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it. 

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.  

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well. 

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know. 

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat. 

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask. 

Any sensible person would get out. 

But you can’t. 

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch. 

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars. 

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before. 

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place. 

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you. 

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” 

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.  

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared. 

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you? 

“What happened to your boyfriend?” 

How does he know about that? 

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right” 

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm. 

The harshness of his stare falters, 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Did you miss me?” 

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it. 

The harshness reappears. 

“Did he fuck you the way you like?” 

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before. 

Your drunk mind works without you operating it, 

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become. 

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion, 

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time? 

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him? 

No. 

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before  harshly cupping your cunt. 

A startled gasp espaces your lips. 

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.  

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet? 

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible. 

“Still a little slut for me”  

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him. 

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher, 

Arousal? 

Fury? 

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again. 

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart. 

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?” 

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer. 

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer. 

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release. 

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you. 

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face, 

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline. 

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out. 

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again. 

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you. 

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it? 

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” 

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip. 

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it. 

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway. 

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you. 

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare. 

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap. 

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all. 

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness. 

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his. 

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move. 

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you. 

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him. 

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him. 

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday. 

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again” 

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before. 

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him, 

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him” 

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff. 

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond. 

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it. 

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

[witchybitchycrybaby]

And they were neighbors...

Benjicot Blackwood x modern!fem!Bracken!reader

Warnings: none, it's just pure fluff, modern au

Words: 1,3k

✨✨✨

Benjicot Blackwood groaned as his alarm buzzed on the nightstand, effectively interrupting his sleep. He slapped it off and lay back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His thoughts, as usual, drifted to his best friend, his next-door neighbor, his... whatever you were to him. The Bracken girl, on top of that.

His parents would probably go bananas if they knew he had feelings for you.

Sure, your families couldn't stand each other, everybody in your small neighborhood knew that, but for Benji that war no longer mattered when it came to you. He thought about the way you looked at him, the way you always had an answer whenever he said something unhinged, and that smile… oh, that smile. He was whipped, completely and utterly.

How you managed to get so deep under his skin was beyond his understanding.

He'd had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. He never said a word about it before, though. He liked being your friend and he was afraid of ruining your relationship. The thought of you not reciprocating his feelings was always in the back of his head, so he simply kept quiet.

Today, however... Oh, screw it, it was high time to take the risk.

Benji rolled over and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. With his hair tousled on the pillow, eyes still half-closed, and a lazy smirk on his lips, he snapped a picture. He looked exactly how he wanted to feel: confident, yet charming. Perfect. He added a caption: "So, what’s it like living next to the most handsome guy ever?"

With a deep breath, he hit send. He quickly tossed the phone away as if it burned him. You two were used to each others smartass remarks, but flirting was an entirely different level. Seconds felt like hours, and he started to question his impulsiveness. What if you didn't get the hint? What if you thought hr was being weird? What if you didn't respond, choosing to ignore him? His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind creating the worst-case scenarios wasn't helping at all.

Finally, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, expecting the worst. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the message.

"No idea. I'm pretty sure there's no one in our neighborhood that matches the description."

Benji's heart raced as he read your reply. It was good, really good even. You didn't make fun of him, you just took the chellange. He could work with that. His finger hovered above the screen, trying to come up with a response, when another message from you popped up.

This time, it was a picture. You were also still in bed, your hair a mess, eyes half-closed, looking even sleepier than him. You were clutching a pillow with a playful smile on your lips. His breath hitched in his throat. You were stunning.

"I figured I'd return the favor," you texted then. He grinned as his heart did a little flip.

"Cute," he replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could. "But I still look better."

"In your dreams, Blackwood."

"You are in my dreams, Bracken."

There was a pause before you texted back: "Cheesy much?"

"For you? Always."

He stopped for a second. Biting his lip, he thought of doing something riskier. The only thing he was worried about was your reaction.

"Speaking of dreams," he started again after a minute. "I dreamt I stole your pillow. I guess mine's just not as comfy."

There it was. He sent it. And you read it.

There was a brief pause before you answered, but when you did, relief poured over him

"Of course you'd want my pillow, my bed is generally way better, you know. It's not my fault you can't get some decent pillows."

"Nah, it's just the pillow. I've got the coziest setup, Bracken. You'd fall asleep in seconds."

"You're delusional," you texted, and he could imagine you laughing in your room. "I'd show you real cozy, but my bed is off-limits to annoying neighbors."

"I think you meant 'annoyingly charming'", he typed, his smile growing wider. "Admit it, Bracken, you'd let me join you if I asked nicely."

Your reply came quickly, "If you weren't so annoying, maybe, I'd have to think about."

This was it, the opening he was waiting for. Benji took a deep breath and went for it. "Alright, I promise to be on my best behavior. Now, would you be so kind, my lady, and open your window?"

That threw you off a bit. "Why?" You texted, your eyebrows furrowed.

Only seconds after you sent your message, you heard a soft rustling outside. Moving to the window, you pulled back the curtain to see Benji, climbing up to your window with a mischievous grin. Your eyes widened in shock at the sight.

"What the hell, Benji?" you whisper-shouted, quickly opening the window.

"Good morning to you too, y/n," he whispered back, there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the smile creeping onto your face. "Are you crazy? If my parents find out you're here, they'll kill you. And then my dad will resurrect you just to kill you again."

Benji chuckled softly. "They'd have to catch me first. Now, are you going to help me in, or are you going to let me fall and have my ghost haunt you for the rest of your life?"

"You're insane", you said but grabbed his arm and helped him climb into your room. He landed softly on your carpet, glancing around your room. "Cozy," he said, sitting on your bed and bouncing slightly on the mattress.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?"

He stretched out on your bed, hands behind his head. "Testing the coziness, of course. You did say your bed was better, remember?"

You shook your head, sitting next to him. "You know, you could've just walk through the front door? Like a normal human being, Benji. Climbing through my window is a bit... dramatic."

Benji turned to look at you. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, I needed to make sure I had your full attention."

You sighed, but there was no hiding the smile that appeared at your lips. "You've got it. Now what?"

He sat up, closer to you now, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by something more serious. "I like you, Bracken. A lot. More than a friend should like a friend. And I get it, our families, the whole feud thing... but I don't care about any of that when it comes to you. I just... I needed to tell you."

You stared at him, your eyes wide in shock and surprise. You though your mind glitched, trying to process his words. He looked so vulnerable now that he had exposed himself and his feelings. "Benji, I..."

But before you could say something more, he cut you off with a nervous laugh. "I know, it's crazy. I just... I needed to tell you."

Your hand reached out and grabbed his. You gave it a soft squeeze and intertwined your fingers. "No, it's not crazy. Actually... To be completely honest, I feel the same way too."

"You-you do?" He stuttered.

"Yeah. I guess I was just scared to say anything because of our families and all that. But... I’m glad you did."

A slow smile spread across his face, lightening it up. "Me too."

He leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours. "So, does this mean I get to stay? Not just for the comfy bed, I mean."

You laughed, the sound filling the room. Oh, he could listen to it for eternity. "Yes, Benji. You get to stay."

He grinned, closing the distance between you. "Good," he whispered, before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It was brief but for Benji it was enough.

For now.

[forthelostones]

𝚙𝚝.𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, fluff, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: guys. this has been such a crazy ride, thanks for the support on both of my stories. it means so much to me. sorry for the wait... lets get it.

CLICK HERE.

(no y/n)

Abby watched from the row behind you, observing how you chewed on the end of that neon #2 pencil. She could tell by the bobbing of your leg that you were nervous and stuck on a specific question. It was the same during studying — chew, bob, sigh. Almost on cue, a frustrated sigh left your throat. She knew it was her fault that this was happening.

She knew neither of you studied long enough for you to feel confident on this exam. Well, that’s what she kept trying to convince herself, she was already finishing up the last page. Although her pencil glided on the paper effortlessly, she couldn’t help but be distracted by your indecisiveness on the math equations and multiple-choice questions. The once full eraser had been subsided to pure metal scrapping into the pages.

The time on her watch read ten minutes left until the end of the exam and you were only on page two. Studying had become harder for you with Abby around. It wasn’t only the dating component it was mostly the difference in your skills. Her ability to memorize vocabulary and complete math problems without thinking twice about them made you academically insecure. While you averaged low B’s and high C’s, she had a 4.0 and made it look easy. The clock's ticking distracts you from the problem you are trying to solve. It was one you and Abby worked on multiple times, yet you’re frozen, unsure how to solve it. As everyone flicks their pages to finish, you just … froze. 

“Okay. Pencils down.” Your professor said just moments after you started a new equation. Your jaw dropped slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut. Abby shook her head, not at you specifically, but herself. You had practically moved in and the nights that would typically be spent studying were now used to learn more about each other beyond your friendship. Realistically, Abby understood that those moments would be worth more than a grade in the long run. But a part of her also resented getting this comfortable, ultimately impacting you. The feelings clashed within her. The heat forming inside of you could only be described as embarrassment. Why was it like your brain suddenly lost all power to its systems? It wasn’t unusual for you to skip a few questions but this was completely unlike you. 

You chew on your cuticles and fold the mostly blank pages and pass them down to the front, doing the same for your classmates. Their pages crumbled with computation answers and confidently filled bubbles exposed your shortcomings. You should feel relieved that the test is over but you don’t. A heavy anchor grounded you but you were still floating. Abby met you down in your row where you saw her concealing another A-plus smirk. Once you both exited into the hall Abby’s hand finds the center of your back and she begins to pet it slowly. You shrug her away gently. 

“Don’t.” You sigh. 

Abby knew it would set you off but she did it anyway to show you she sees you. The blonde’s brain was moving at a rapid pace. She so deeply wanted to ask you about the challenging problems and the scenarios on the quiz. Her translucent lashes tapped frantically as she imagined the sheet of paper behind her eyes. 

“I feel good about this one.” She finally says. 

“Good. I really did not do well. It’s — whatever. Right?” 

Abby looks to you and she couldn’t lie and tell you that it’s not just whatever. It’s your future. Both of your futures — together — it was important to Abby that her partner was just as successful as her. 

“You should be happy that you did your best but understand that if you did do as bad as you think, it’s worth asking for a makeup to understand the material.” She suggested. 

You hated when she got like this, rigid. Her posture was straight, her mouth set hard, and no softness found anywhere on her face. The regime her father instilled in her stayed and it was evident in moments like this. 

“Abby, sometimes I really need you to just listen to me and be rational later.” 

A chill followed down her spine following your sharp comment. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t study together anymore.” She muttered.

Part of you wanted that to be a joke but knew it wasn’t. The night before proved itself to be deeply uneventful for the both of you. 

“You’re distracting me.” You groan as you’re reviewing flashcards on Abby’s bed, the first mistake. She was wearing a thin, white tank top and a pair of loose black sweats, untied, on her hips. Her hair was drying from the shower you two just took and so was her body. The outline of her features was accentuated by the water being absorbed by the cotton. She was so casually beautiful and simply yours. The bed shifted behind you, her weight bending the mattress inwards, as she crawled towards you.

“Am I?” She asks, using the tip of her tongue to playfully lick a stripe of slick up towards your lobe. An instant bubble of relief popped inside of you. “Okay. Okay.” 

Abby couldn’t take her eyes away from you. She had seen you in this robe every night now but it was something about how it was gliding with you. As well as your skin's glint from your body oil makes you look regal. You sat at the base of the bed while Abby retreated towards the headboard, leg tucked under her butt. She took off three inches of hair and it looked so fresh, carving out her face perfectly, and highlighting her stiff jawline. “How about we make a deal?” She said brazenly. 

“What?” 

“For each answer I get right you remove something?” 

“Abby,” you chuckle, not denying her advances. 

You thumb the index cards in your hand and turn to tie your eyes with hers. 

“First question, the section is Anatomy and Physio. What best describes endocrine glands?” You ask. 

Abby taps her chin as if she’s searching for the answer. “They secrete chemicals into the blood, growth, metabolism, sexual development and function.” 

She raises her eyebrows and shoots her eyes towards your robe. A deal is a deal so you remove the silk, leaving you in your two-piece pajama set. Abby notices the goosebumps lining the outsides of your shoulders and can’t help but desire to rub them warm. 

“Question number two. Anaerobic respiration can lead to a burning sensation caused by which molecule?” 

“Easy,” she scuffed. “Lactic Acid.”

Her teeth appeared behind her Cheshire grin as your top found its way onto her floor. 

“Good job.” 

Your words made her cunt pulse. 

“The mediastinum is located within which cavity?” You ask. 

Abby’s face fell instantly. The outline of your nipples looked delicious and icy, she needed them in her palms immediately. “Fuck. I don’t know.” 

You lift yourself off the bed and bend right in front of her to retrieve your shirt, Abby’s shadow overcame you and her hips thrust into your ass in one motion. She spins you around to face her, mouths inches away. “Do you think you’re going to actually put that back on?” 

Her index finger traced the outline of your lips with her eyes following. You grip her wrist, halting her movements, “And if I do?” 

Abby gently places the index cards neatly on her bedside table and presses you into the wall behind you. Usually, Abby is submissive but the stalking woman imposed her strength on you, like she’s been wanting to do from the first time she saw you in clinicals. 

“I’ll just rip it off you.” She giggles. 

“Would that be so bad?” You reply, bringing her finger into your mouth, sucking it then adding another. Abby huffed a keen groan as she bent down onto her knees, immediately pressing her mouth into your cunt. She lapped at the fabric separating her from you and didn’t even ask for you to remove them. 

You insisted by beginning to take them off but she tore them off you and hoisting up one leg onto her shoulder following the other one. 

“Abby.” You gasp. 

“I got you, hold onto me.” 

She was flexing her skill by fine-tuning your pussy with her tongue while she slowly hoisted you up towards the ceiling. Not only did you feel as if you were floating, you actually were. She was a show off but you fucking loved it. 

After that, there was no more studying done.

“Do you think we should cut down on the time we're spending together?” You question, as the night replays in your mind. 

Abby’s face scrunched up in immediate disapproval without hesitation at the suggestion. She pulled her bottom lip slightly in her mouth and looked around as if the walls suddenly grew eyes. Abby wanted to tell you no but she knew what had to be done. 

“We can.” She grimaced with a shrug. 

Despite all the time you spent together the girlfriend conversation had yet to come up. She thought about it the most when you were in her presence. She didn’t comprehend how you liked her so much and yet, you refused to make it official. She truly believed that once you ditched Ellie she’d be over the moon, but right now it’s feeling the same and Abby doesn’t do stagnant. 

“Abby, we can still study together, in the library, several feet away from each other.” 

She forced a smile. “Fine. Does this mean you’ll still sleepover?” 

Before your crush on Abby developed you were denying yourself the fact that it was possible. But during this time, before the dating, your grades had been the best when you were alone, and you know for a fact, that it was because of her. You may not be as smart as Abby but you do want to come out on the other end with a degree too. 

“Why don’t we come up with a schedule?” She suggests.  

“That would be perfect.” You said. 

The schedule consisted of dinners at Abby’s during the week, sleepovers on non-clinical days which were Wednesdays and Fridays, and studying every day at the library. Abby liked the organization but her body had gotten so used to you beside her. A week into implementing the new schedule Abby felt an immense amount of anxiety without you around. She didn’t know how to break down the feeling and why it was so persistent. Although you two were next door to each other, text messages still provided a temporary cushion for her sadness, but it wasn’t enough. 

Abby clicked the icon that was the home for your name and called but there was no answer. Dinner was stewing on the stove, and in the middle of mixing a cocktail, Abby called to find out if you could taste what was missing. Another call led to another one and soon Abby was sitting with a candle flickering silently in front of her. Your plate sat untouched and she just picked at the remnants of hers. 

Little did she know you were closed off in your room after studying, panicking. You knew yourself more than you wanted to. The schedule was needed for you to clear your brain on the feelings you had for Abby. With upcoming exams and graduation where would that leave you? She'd move across the world while you were huddled up in your small town's hospital circulation? It was coming in so fast and before you could mix in a girlfriend you had to know what you wanted. The pages of your journal turned soft as you tore your pen through the book. 

A part of you wanted to hear the rapping of her fist against your door, ready to envelop you and reassure you that you would figure it out. She never came and because of that, a piece of you died. Conversations with her have turned short and passive since the last exam. It wasn’t just the exam it was a culmination of multiple things that either of you were ready to talk about. 

Abby put your dinner into a glass container and waited outside your door trying to gain the sense to knock. One of the many nights you spent together gave her a reason to knock instead of sulk in her bed, thinking about all of her shortcomings in the relationship. You were both lying down and Abby lit a candle that night that you bought her. The sweet scent of peaches and cream cut through the bitter smell of her pine products. She loved it. Between the sheets were your naked bodies damp and lazy. Abby had brought a glass of cold ice water and set it on the nightstand beside the candle. You took turns taking sips. 

“Thank you for the water.” You smiled. 

“Don’t mention it,” She nudged you. 

You twist your body onto your stomach and look up to her glimmering, post-sex face. 

“Abby?” 

“Yes, beautiful?” 

“You still make me nervous.” 

She cackles and brings her hand to your cheek and massages away your imperfections. With the roll of her eyes she licks her lips before curating a snarky response. But she quickly realizes you’re being serious. “Why?” 

“I care so much about you and that’s something I haven’t felt before. With anyone.”

A kind pause swells between you both. 

“I care about you too. I don’t want that to make you nervous.” She said. 

“I know you see me differently but I am a little insecure.” 

She leans down and kisses your forehead tenderly without a breath. 

“That’s normal.” 

“But I burrow. I distance myself when I get like that and I don’t want to subject you to that. I don’t want to hurt your feelings again. If I do that, get distant, don’t hesitate to just tell me to get out of my own head. It’s not your fault or your responsibility.” 

Abby’s fist banged on the door with your words echoing in her mind. The thuds startled you out of the sleepy daze you fell under. You shuffle to the door to see the goofy blonde in her pajamas and slippers holding what was supposed to be tonights shared dinner. 

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Her voice was more welcoming than usual. “I was worried. Are you okay?”

Shoving her way past you and nearly tossed the container on the kitchen counter. Without hesitation she opened her arms and you couldn’t help but to run into them. Although she didn’t say anything the affirmation from her presence was enough. 

“All too much in your head again aren’t you?” 

A sob escaped into her chest and she gripped you tighter. These past few days have been a blunder of confusing thoughts. A part of you knew getting together with Abby would make things unclear in your life. But if she was willing to get uncomfortable and support you, you were obligated to do the same to her.

“Abby, I should’ve answered your calls.” You pull away to notice how unswayed she is of your state.

“You should have but that doesn’t matter right now. We need to talk.”

You nod your head shyly and she grips your hand and takes you to your bedroom. Abby pats beside herself to welcome you.

“I’m so scared.” You blurt out.

“Me too,”

Abby was scared for the complete opposite reason. When she was with you it seemed like all the decorative things such as school didn’t matter. She wasn’t familiar with how that felt. To have an identity outside of her accomplishments or care about someone. With you, she could flunk out of nursing school, move back to her home town, and still be satisfied. That scared her — that one person could allow her to have such a paradigm shift.

Hearing Abby say those words made your heart settle.

“I care so much about you. I didn’t think I would, this much. I should’ve known because on orientation when I saw you I thought, ‘I need to know who she is’ and I am grateful for that thought blossoming into my mind.”

You couldn’t muster any other word but her name. She picked up your hands to bring them into her lap. She leaned in to place a soft kiss on your mouth and lingered there with her forehead pressed against yours.

“When you moved next door, I just thought maybe this is the sign I need to do something different. To not let my ambitions lead me but instead my heart. And my heart loves you, Dummy.”

[gabessquishytum]

So, I just listened to Shatter Me (the album) by Lindsey Sterling again for the first time in a while and it gave me such Dream vibes. So I came up with a little AU scenario (also I don't know any of her more modern albums at all, so sorry for the outdated reference):

Dream is an insanely good vilionist and is about to record his next album. His manager hired some people for the backround instruments, including a certain Robert "Hob" Gadling, who has played the drums in the backround for other famous solo performers in the past. Dream is just his newest gig.

At first, they don't get along at all. Well, noone really does with Dream. He constantly criticises eveyone, including Hob, demanding perfection. Hob's pretty annoyed and would have half a mind to quit if he didn't need the money. That is, until he listens to some of the tapes from their first attempts compared to more recent ones, that are closer to Dream's vision (even if not quite there yet, as Dream doesn't tire to remind them all). And suddenly Hob gets it. Dream's vision, the things he's critiqued them on all the time, if they could actually get it right this album would slap so hard. Hob notices that the instructions Dream gave him are so important because he wants the drums to be complimentary, to elevate the pieces, to make his violin melody all that more impactful.

Hob had almost forgotten that that's what it's supposed to be like. All the other big shots he's worked with were so focused on their own success, on being the most memorable part of every song, that Hob always felt they wanted his drumming just because a band's expected to have a drummer and because it makes it easier to stay on tact. But Dream... He envisions art. Sure, the violin will still probably be the most memorable part of these songs, but not because the other instruments get practically beaten to death by it; it's because they all support each other in a way that makes the melody that much more impactful.

Once Hob realizes that that's where Dream's harsh comments and nit-picky critisims are going, he doesn't feel so annoyed anymore. In fact, he suggests to Dream that maybe the rest of the group should hear what he heared and understand Dream's vision; maybe then they can truly get this where Dream wants it to go.

And well... now that they see more eye to eye, Hob realizes he's hopelessly doomed. Dream was already a sight to behold, these beautiful fingers moving in such quick percision, his elegant movements following the melody. Now that he's not constantly yelling at Hob anymore, he really has no choice but to fall in love. Especially since Dream turns out to not only be an artistic genius, but also quite lovely as a person. (Dream was surprised that Hob managed to understand his vision, and even more so that he was willing to try and get the rest of the crew on board after the way Dream had treated him. He decided to be a bit more compassionate with him after that. At first it was just small things like bringing him coffee or complimenting him when his drumming was especially good, but somehow it turned into non-dates, where they would sid at a café or go on a walk and just talk endlessly to each other.)

Don't know what it would take for one of them to finally confess

This is so beautiful, I adore these two as musicians and percussion is PERFECT for Hob.

I can totally imagine that Dream begins writing music to express his feelings for Hob. Intense, passionate pieces which shatter the heart and uplift the soul. Hob is mesmerised, daring to hope that he might be interpreting Dream's music correctly - Hob knows each note so intimately by now, he's almost sure that Dream is setting love into each and every page.

Watching Hob play his music, the declarations of his love, is like the sweetest torture in the world for Dream. He swears that he'll stop it but he can't resist. Nobody plays for him like Hob.

Maybe one day Hob is just like - "you love me, right? because i love you, every beat of your heart, every string on your bow" and Dream nearly collapses; all he can do is play a few notes on his violin and hope that they express his pain and ardor and LOVE.

And Hob very gently takes the instrument from him, puts it somewhere safe, and kisses him. It's a sweeter music than they've ever made together before.

[daftdrac]

X-Men Evolution is cool and all (VERY cool I love evolution) but I want an x men au where they're ALL kids. Young (er) Charles Xavier (like in his 20s - early 30s cause I will never be able to imagine child Charles) trying to manage his own powers while also being essentially a single father to Uncontrollable Laser Beams Kid, Actual Just Feral Animal Kid, Kid Who Keeps Accidentally Telekinetically Trashing Her Room When She Gets Overwhelmed By Other Peoples Thoughts, Kid Who Keeps Falling Through The Floor When She's Frightened, Fuzzy Catholic Demon Kid, Explosions Kid, Kid With Multiple Personality Disorder As Their Entire Power, Other Explosions Kid, Kid Who Keeps Flooding The Fucking Mansion Because He Forgets How Ice Works Even Though Its His Entire Power, and Kid Who Keeps Accidentally Making It Rain In The House When She's Upset.

In this scenario all of them are 8th-10th grade I imagine. (Anyone I don't mention i either don't know or don't like 😭)

8th: Bobby, Jubilee, honestly probably just them

9th: Kurt, Kitty, Rogue, Tabitha

10th: Jean, Scott, maybe Logan

And special 11th grade for mostly just Logan and Storm because they will always feel older than everyone else. They're always the elders

In this situation Logan either wouldn't have ever been 'Weapon X' yet, or he was made into Weapon X as a child (at, like, Laura/X-23's age) and saved by Charles. He would be regular highschool age, so like 16/17. Not 200 something ❤️‍🩹

I imagine everyone would have less of a grasp on their powers than in Evolution. Including Charles. Everyone is just a little more clueless about mutants in general. Maybe make it modern too cause ❤️‍🩹 I can't write early 2000s for shit ❤️‍🩹

[parvulous-writings]

Oooh, I have a request idea!! How about Gale, Halsin, Astarion and Wyll or Karlach (if that's not too many ;-;) with a modern S/O from our world that makes them try a bunch of food from this dimension. I'd love to see their reaction to trying Soda or other Carbonated Beverages, and naturally seeing everyone's reaction to canned food - especially the kind that stays in the exact shape of the can even after you dump it into a bowl 🤣

Just imagine giving them this bad boy and being like "Bon appetit!" :D

I like to think they'd be horrified 🥰 Thank you so much !!

Summary: I do love me a little whimsical AU, I can't lie - so this MAY go into the realms of silly, but you know what? It's going to be fun! It also may be a bit all over the place... but you know what I think it fits XD The scenario is kinda the same for all of them - I hope that's okay!

Warnings: Some are a bit shorter/longer than others! Other than that... I don't think there's anything!

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Gale

Out of everyone, Gale would probably be the most at-ease with you coming from another realm - he finds it absolutely fascinating.

He's asking questions all the time - is there magic in your universe? No?? What do you do, then??

You tell him about technology, and he is hooked. You start talking about electricity and immediately he's taking notes (mental or physical).

"I think I might actually have something you can try, Gale" you pull out of your pack a can of Coke (that somehow had survived the trip), and a tin of cranberry sauce that you had hoped to take home, before being whisked away to the land of Faerun. You offer him the can, and he just stares at it for a moment, observing it.

"And... what is this, exactly?" "It's a drink." "I fail to see how-" click "... Ah"

Isn't sure how the bubbles feel on his tongue - he almost spits out the drink the first mouthful he has. Doesn't mind the taste itself though - he would probably drink it flat, if he had the choice to.

"It's... Nice..." He seems mildly uncertain of this statement. "Though, I think I will stick to wine, and water..."

You telling him you can preserve food in metal near indefinitely? Pure 'teach me' moment. He will want to know EVERY secret on that front.

The tin of sauce confuses him. You tell him that it's sauce and he's eager to taste it - he's always on the look out for new flavours, as the self-declared cook in camp. Fish and potatoes can only keep you going for so long, until your tongue starts craving a new flavour.

When you present the unchanging... thing to him, he has no idea what to make of it. "That's... Not sauce. In fact, I don't even think that's edible - that looks like a health hazard."

He straight up refuses to use it that night, like he will not go near it, nor will he let it near the food.

Halsin

Halsin doesn't really talk about you being from another realm all that much - it doesn't overly concern him, now that you've got his trust.

He likes hearing stories of your life -even though you have to explain 90% of what you talk about to him, he's always eagerly listening to whatever you have to say.

Will not touch anything in a can - drink or otherwise.

"I... Do not feel right in trying this... my apologies."

You will not be able to convince him, whatever you try and do, he just... Doesn't want to listen to anything about that. If you keep trying to push him on the subject, he'll probably end up just walking away.

Though he's aware that preserving foods is probably a good idea for the long run, but after having heard the fizz from the can of coke? That's... A no go, for the time being.

Astarion

Astarion couldn't care less where you came from - so long as you're not going to stab him in the back, he's fine with you. You could be a crawling claw for all he cares - so long as you don't hurt him he really does not care.

Astarion doesn't typically eat anything other than his usual sanguine meals now that his affliction is out in the camp. This doesn't stop him from making snide comments on the food, though. And he makes especially snide comments when it comes to drinks - which he still partakes in quite happily.

"What do you mean... Fizzy?" His lips draw up slightly in a half-sneer, not being particularly drawn to the idea of... Whatever it was you were offering him. Though, he supposed, because it was you... He'd give it a go.

He manages to keep the beverage in his mouth after a sip, but the face he makes is beyond a grimace - clearly, he was not expecting that many bubbles.

Now when it came to the tinned sauce - or any tinned food for that matter... He'll simply laugh. "Now, I know we're short on supplies, darling, but... I don't think you'll get anyone to eat that." "Let me put it this way... If something like that was for my meal, I'd be running for the hills! ... And probably washing my mouth out with soap..."

"I am so glad I do not have to pretend I'm eating with you... Because that-" He points emphatically to the can-shaped food. "Would not, and will not, be going anywhere near my lips!"

Wyll

Wyll is curious about the realm you come from, but doesn't normally pry. He figures that, if you're going to reveal anything about your home land, you'll do it in your own time, when you're comfortable. If you start talking about your home and your life, Wyll will do the same, to show that he's not taking the conversation for granted.

Wyll actually LIKES carbonated beverages. He savours the feel on his tongue - it's like nothing else he's ever had before, and he's instantly wanting more. If you ever do figure out the realm-hopping thing, you'll have to bring him some more - possibly some different brands or flavours for him to try.

"So... These beverages... They can... Taste of flowers, and other delightful things?" Wyll hums pleasantly at this thought. "Well, I know we have... Similar things, here in Faerun, but I am most intrigued on your realms' flavours... As pleasant as it all can be, you can only handle so much of the same..."

Though canned food doesn't.... Really seem appealing to him, he'll still give it a good try! He's down to try any food at least once.

He's not keen on the appearance of the cranberry sauce, but he has some with some turkey you've roasted, and he's in love with the taste. Sure, the appearance could use some work, but beggars can't always be choosers - at least it tasted delicious!

Absolutely LOVES tinned vegetables. He's not sure why - he knows they've got a very different taste and texture to their fresher counterpart, but... There's just something about them that he can't get enough of. Tinned carrots especially.

If you give him the chance - and Gale for once isn't trying to make dinner - Wyll will try and find a way to include tinned foods. He will get everyone to like them, he's certain of it.

Karlach

Karlach LOVES hearing anything and everything about your home realm - from the mundane to the even mundane-r. You have a special tub to bathe in, not made from wood? And it has running water, like a river, that you can control?? That's one of the coolest things Karlach has heard of - and she longs for a way to try and bring that kind of plumbing to Faerun.

Karlach isn't fussed on the Coke can you offer her - she'll drink it, for sure, but if there's the option of another drink, then she'll probably opt for that first. Purely for the reason that it's a relatively new sensation compared to the other kinds of fizzy found in drinks across Faerun.

Like, fermentation has a kick, but in comparison, carbonation is a roar, that Karlach needs a little adjusting to - she has the best reaction out of the lot of them, I think.

"Whoo- that's... Hah, that's something, soldier... And how often do you drink this? Once a day? ... Several? Several cans of this a day?" She laughs quietly, shaking her head. "You're braver than me at some things, soldier."

However, when it comes to tinned food... She loves it. She's not even sure why - perhaps it's just the fact that she loves food. You show her the sauce first, and she doesn't even bat an eye at the fact that the sauce had retained the shape of the can. She sniffs at it, before just picking it up and taking a bite.

"A little sharp... But not bad!" Another bite. "You're meant to eat that with meat, Karlach," "Huh? .... Ah, well - still tastes good like this!"

She's not as fond of tinned veggies, but she'll still eat them. Normally dinner will now start with. "Aw, what? Don't we have anymore of that red stuff?"

[dashitsxx]

i'll wait for your love | gojo satoru x fem!reader | (I)

summary. If only you had given attention to the emotions your boyfriend felt in your relationship, it would have never reached to this point.

genre. angst. sfw.

word count. 1.4k

warnings. modern au. messy plot. in an established relationship. toxic relationship. toxic!gojo. mean!gojo. toxic!reader. prob workaholic!reader. inconsiderate behaviour. mentions of actions of neglect/abandonment (reader). invalidation of feelings (reader & gojo). fighting. mentions of past arguments. cursing. yelling/shouting. a bit of egoistic behaviour (reader). miscommunication. abrupt toxic break-up. party. light drinking.

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

notes. ngl, i love ariana's eternal sunshine :(( it's her best album, i fear! her songs are so pretty especially this one--but i might have probably used the painful interpretation in this song, but i kind of didn't like the plot i thought tho... but anw, have fun!! also, there might be a possibility of continuation of this one-shot. not sure about it yet :))

"You know what? Fuck you," Satoru cursed at you aggressively as he stormed out of the living room. Your jaw dropped, taken back by what your partner said. Did he just curse you? He did. He just told you to go off. You feel your blood boiling, you cocked your jaw as you pursued his steps to the bedroom.

You push the door open forcefully as Gojo sits on the bed with his head in his hands.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You questioned him firmly with crossed arms. However, he didn't give any response to you while you waited. Annoyance soared through your body as you spoke in the same emotion you were currently feeling, "Do you have a problem with me? Talk to me, Gojo. You are really pissing me off!"

A huge snort left Gojo's lips as he lifted his head, tilting it in the process. " 'What's wrong with me?' That's what you are asking? God, Y/N," he vexes at you. This time, your expression transforms into confusion, which makes your boyfriend feel exasperated. "You really don't know?"

He turns his head away from you while your expression remains unchanged. "It's always like this, isn't it? You don't even know…" A sudden pang shoots through your chest as you hear a trembling tone in his voice. What does he mean? You wonder. What have you done wrong? You walk closer to him but keep a certain distance. "Please, Satoru, talk to me."

Another snort leaves his lips and looks up at you, behind his bright ocean eyes were burning in rage red flames. He was angr—no, furious.

"You are so unbelievable. I can't even imagine why I am still dating you."

Your current emotional state was abruptly replaced by a look of shock, causing your mouth to hang open and your eyes to widen. The corner of your lips twitched as you exclaimed, "Why are you getting so angry at me for no reason? What's wrong with you?" Your voice rose in volume as you spoke.

"For no reason?!" Gojo stood up abruptly, deathly glaring into your eyes. "I am fucking infuriated because of you!"

"Then, what the hell did I do? I have never done anything wrong!"

"Yes, you did!"

"What is it?!"

"You abandoned me!"

Pain flashed through your eyes as the tension brewed more bitter in the atmosphere. Stinging silence surged between the both of you, but a heave of breaths sounded in the room. What did he mean?

"I—w-what?" You stutter, yet your boyfriend sarcastically chuckles. "Remember the time when I booked us for dinner? I waited for 2 hours, but you never came. Why? Work. Oh, how about the other time when I asked you to pick me up? Another 2 hours wasted, again. Why again? Work again! What a world record!" His hands turn into fists as veins pop off underneath his skin.

"Also, the time when I fucking needed you the most because I was going through something—where were you? Over at the club, having fun with you coworkers and just getting fucking wasted, just for me to bring you back home." There was a bitter taste present in his voice.

You shake your head as you approach him carefully. "I-I never mean—" But he cuts you off and dares to continually speak.

"By the way, I love the part where you just went batshit crazy on me for no reason last week! I love the time you stormed out and ignored me for the whole day while in the same house. I love it, really. Now, who is being unreasonable between us?" Gojo gives you a full hand clap as if you have achieved something innovative. A puzzled expression was displayed on your face, you didn't know how to react or what to say. You didn't know Gojo was feeling this way, well, he should have told you sooner then.

You opened your mouth shakily and asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

A loud, ridiculing sound escaped Satoru's lips. "It's because you never listened," he gritted through his teeth. This time, you rolled your eyes. "I would have listened if you had told me sooner."

He placed his hands on his waist, making a mocking face and said, "Well, I tried! And you never did! Because you are so focused on your stupid work!" You noticed his voice raising in volume and his words made your blood boil hotter. "Stupid work? I work because I want us to live a life where we do not have to worry about money! I work for us to have food on the table! Are you not proud I do that for you, for us?!"

"I don't even give a shit about the money!"

"But I do! I want to live a comfortable life!"

"But how about me? Have you ever thought about my feelings, Y/N?! My feelings."

You clamp your mouth shut and bite the insides of your cheek, unsure what to say. The once-forgotten silence lingers once again. A sudden urge to escape emerged in you and honestly, you were tired of this arguing with Satoru. With that, you let out a defeated sigh.

"I don't want to talk anymore, Satoru. Come on, let's go to bed. We can talk about it tomorrow morning," you attempt to persuade him, yet your boyfriend widens his enchanting eyes in disbelief. He couldn't believe you.

Satoru gave a sarcastic laugh as he mutters the word, 'unbelievable.' This only made you frown as you walked closer to him. You reach your arm out to touch him, but before you are even an inch closer, he aggressively slaps it away. Your jaw dropped open at his action and this time—something in you snapped.

Shouts after shouts echoed in the room, bursting in anger. Words were thrown against each other. The stress accumulated from the relationship and work got the best of you.

"I'm done with you. I'm fucking leaving you," Gojo walks out of the bedroom and you sit down on the bed, placing your head in your hands. "Go on then, like I care." You utter under your breath. You were so exhausted and your throat was feeling sore because of the yells you voiced out a while ago.

A huge bang reverberated throughout the entire house, which indicated that your boyfriend left the house. You lift your head before a tired sigh escapes your lift. You didn't want to deal with all the stress you are currently feeling instead you brushed it off by settling yourself into bed. You figured that Satoru would be back in the morning.

However, you were wrong.

A year later...

You take a sip of your wine as you give a huge grin towards the capturing camera, flashing brightly in your direction. You giggled as your friends cracked a laugh. Conversations continued before you informed them to leave for some breeze.

There were some hazy-looking objects as you tipsily walked, the wine glass being supported by the hold of your hand. It took you a while to find a room with a balcony til you encountered an open door. Currently, you were invited to an event hosted by your company in a 5-star hotel. You were definitely enjoying the night you deserved. However, you got a bit carried away with your alcohol intake.

Your heels clack against the floor as you enter the empty room before proceeding to the balcony. You sigh in contentment once the wind brushes your face, your hair dancing with it. You lift your head up to stare at the gleaming light between the vast ocean of darkness and luminary clusters. The moon had a very light shade of blue around its rim as your eyes continuously gazed at it.

You leaned your arms on the railings of the balcony. No matter how you try to push them to the back of your mind, even the celestial body reminds you of him. That darn white and blue shade, you curse.

Nevertheless of your daydreaming of missing him, progressive footsteps vibrate through the ground, which you had not given attention to.

Until they spoke, "Y/N."

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice behind you as you turned your body to find the source of the voice you were now facing upfront. A disbelief expression replaced the tranquillity you felt a while ago. You feel your body nervously shake at the figure in front of you, not in fear but in anxiety. You shakily move your mouth as you utter the name you have never attempted to leave your lips.

"Satoru."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33

[aritsukemo]

Your heart's too big for your body.. | Muichiro and Yuichiro Tokito

Warnings: Mentions of the reader throwing up in Yuichiro's part! All my emetophobic folks beware!!

A/N: I honestly don't know what this is lmao- I planned a completely different set of characters when I wrote this but as I was listening to Melanie Martinez's Crybaby album, I guess my mind just went to two characters who bring me a bunch of comfort. Like, as I listened, I felt kinda sad so my mind just imagined a bunch of scenarios with these two comforting someone.. ( Also, in case anyone's confused. Muichiro's part is set in a more modern au like the Kimetsu Academy au, Yuichiro's isn't )

"What the fuck," Is the first thing the teal-streaked medic mumbled when you stumbled into the Butterfly Manor half conscious, blood dripping from your head. and your hand poorly covering your stomach which had a horrifyingly-large gash on the center of it.

"T- Tokito.." You called, although you could barely get the words out before you tilted. Luckily, Yuichiro caught you in time before you completely hit the floor.

As your head hit his shoulder, a quick wave of panic shot through him. After all, it wasn't often that a Hashira—especially one of your caliber—to come in this wounded, or wounded at all for that matter.

As he helped you to your feet, Yuichiro threw your arm over his shoulder, ignoring your blood that had quickly begun to stain his clothes, and called for some assistance before guiding you to the nearest patient room and sitting you down on the bed where you immediately flopped over.

"Shit," He cursed out, finally noticing how bad of a state you had gotten yourself in. You showed obvious signs of having a concussion—a severe one at that. But he had little time to focus on that before you began choking.

With quick movements, Yuichiro helped you sit up only for you to immediately fall forward and cough up your stomach, staining the bottom half of his clothes with your blood and what was most likely your breakfast, shit.

It was only then that the Kakushi had rushed in, staring at the sight in surprised horror only to finally rush to your side after Yuichiro shouts at them to unbutton your uniform vest and press down on your stomach wound while he prepared the bandages...

When you finally awoke, you were experiencing one of the worst headaches of your life. The Kakushi had long been sent off, but Yuichiro was still there. Towering over you, scrutinizing you.

"How are you feeling?" Was the first thing he said. It came out in a rushed, whispered tone of voice instead of his usual vexed one.

"My head hurts.." You mumbled in which he hums and mumbles something involving Shinobu and medication under his breath. Although, it was hard to really concentrate on his mumbling when your head felt like it was being split open and the strong taste of metal was lingering on your tongue..

"So what happened while you were out?" Surely you had run into one of the Twelve. Logically speaking, there would be no other way for you to obtain such injuries. Unless you somehow tripped into a bear's mouth or something on your way home. Although he hopes that isn't the case. You were an idiot, but hopefully not that stupidly clumsy.

Your eyes drifted to your hands subconsciously, an expression of which the medic could only think was embarrassment slowly forming on your face.

"It was my fault," You began, and Yuichiro was already furrowing his brows, "I underestimated my opponent and nearly got another slayer killed as a result.."

"There was another demon slayer there?" His voice suddenly grew low as hed muttered his next words with poorly masked dread, "..What happened to them?"

"They..ran away," Wait..what?

"They did..what?" The sudden sharpness of his tone has you wanting to shrink away from him, "Say it again. I want to hear it. Now."

"There.. There were multiple slayers.. One of them attempted to help out, but in the end..when I was pushed back.." You pause, looking for the right words to your next sentence that wouldn't shove the truth of what happened in your face. The disheartening truth that makes your chest tighten and your heart sting. The truth that your comrades had left you to die, "I awoken and my comrades..had all..retreated to safety."

"So, they left you to die," You wince. The way he always worded things always sounded so painful to hear. It squeezed at your heart in a way that made your eyes sting and your throat tighten, but you try to brush it off as best you can.

"No, they just—"

"Decided to save their own worthless asses as soon as the fight didn't go their way and left you to clean up the mess?" As his anger grew, so did his voice, "No way you slice this will make the truth any less apparent that they left you for dead!"

"How many times have I told you about this? You need to understand that most people only care about keeping themselves happy and alive and don't care who dies at the expense of that! Not you, or me, or anyone else!" He's right. Both of you are aware of that and as a result, silence replaces any words that would've been spoken after that—well, that and the tears that are beginning to form in your eyes because of the intense stinging..

You raise you hand, your eye instinctively closing as you wipe at your eye, your tears smear as a result, but you could care less. As long as it got rid of them.

At some point, the silence was broken with the sharp sigh that slipped from Yuichiro's soft lips. He shuffles closer before leaning down where the coldness of his thumbs comes in contact with the warm skin just under your eye. They capture the tears that manage to escape and gently flicks them away.

"You shouldn't waste your tears. Not on them, and certainly not on me.." He tells you, but it only makes you want to cry harder—which you ended up doing.

"I'm.. I'm sorry..*hic*.. I.. I.." You couldn't even get your words out from how much you were choking. This was so embarrassing and you wished you could just crawl in the hole and never come out of it..

But you can't. So you'll just have to make do with Yuichiro caging his arms around you as you sobbed instead.

"Thank you for coming," You told him, intending for it to sound more like an happy and excited little kid than a heartbroken and dissapointed adult. He looks around, streamers and banners decorate the walls, rounded tables and chairs were dressed down in various colored flowers and other assortments—all of which were mixed and matched in your favorite colors—and a beautiful multi-tiered cake sitting in the middle of a long rectangular table in the back of the room—the cake's decor trailing down the layers and onto the table where it then hangs off the wood, like hanging wisteria trees..

Not a soul in sight.

It was confusing to him. He vividly remembers the long nights with you, both of you up at ungodly hours, dressed down in your pajamas. He remembers being on the phone with you, staring intently at the slumped beds that had begun to slowly form under your bottom lashes and the faded look of drowsiness on your drooping face. He remembers your hands, tiny cuts of all shapes and sizes dented in your skin from the many slip ups and paper attacks that happened that night and previous night. He remembers the afternoons slowly turning to evenings and then nights and he remembers you working nonstop on your invitation cards. Each were just a tad bit different, some of the handmade decorations being different sizes and beautified certain ways to mask the small but noticeable mistakes you made on some of them. He remembers how proud you looked everytime you finished a card, showing him while flashing the widest grin he's ever seen from you. He remembers how pretty each card looked..

Why didn't anyone show up?

"I suppose everyone was busy today," You said, but he couldn't tell if you were trying to answer the silent question in the air or trying to tell yourself that to make yourself feel better, "I knew I should've waited til' the weekend.."

"Why.. Where is.." He didn't know what to say. You were pretty well known throughout school, everyone loved you or so it seemed. Why is he the only one here?

"Y'know, when I first started passing out the cards, most people told me that they probably couldn't make it. It made me a little sad, but then I was asked if I could help them out.." You told him. He hated the look in your eyes as you said it, "Heh..I ran all over the place running errands for all those people..they said that because of me they'll have enough time to at least stop by and drop off their gifts.." You began to walk, your shoes dragging against the wooden flooring of your living room, Muichiro cringed at the screaking sound it made.

"I did all of that..and no one showed. I waited all day.." Your voice was so shaky and fragile, like a mirror slowly cracking. It felt like the shards of glass were slowly falling off and shoved down his throat.

Then your voice suddenly raised, "But it's okay!" You said, "It's okay," You repeated, "That just means there's more cake for the two of us to enjoy!" You stop right infront of the large cake, your head rolling to look back at him. His own mirror began to slowly crack as his teal eyes met your teary ones and you flashed him a smile, one thinned out instead of the usual full, bright one you always blessed him with.

It was heartbreaking. It made him want to cry. And he did. He didn't realize it, but the tears had begun to slide down his cheeks one after another..

"I'm..so sorry," He said as if he wasn't the only one standing here before you, "..I'm so sorry, Y/n.."

"Why are you apologizing? It's okay, Mui. Don't feel bad. I'm okay.." You croaked, watching with your bottom lip shaking as he neared you. Biting down on the skin when he enveloped you and his sobs filled your ears.

"It's okay. I'm okay. I'm..I.." With a loud hiccup to signal that the dam has broke, you fell apart completely. Body trembling as you leaned into his shoulder, mumbling words of reassurances over and over like a damaged record.

"I'm..fine.. I'm okay.. No need to cry.." You said, but your words comforted neither him or you—if anything, it only made your tears come out in quicker, thicker clumps, completely ruining the little makeup look you had spent an embarrassing amount of time doing.

At some point, you two hit the floor. Neither of you noticed it, but you were curled up in each others arms on the cold, lonely floor. Tears wetting each others' sleeves. It was a mortifying sight. If anyone walked in, there's a chance you'd both be made fun of for being such crybabies over a simple birthday party gone wrong.

But you never left his embarace and he never left yours. You both sat there, tangled in that messy embrace and sobbing, heavy feelings weighing in both of your hearts.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[mistress-violence]

Prompt: Museum from @into-the-jeggyverse (August 28)

Word count: 676 words

Pairing: Jegulus (modern AU)

⚠️ Warnings: none

Regulus is the kind of person who has loved art since he was a child. James has caught on to it in the six months since they've been dating. He spent countless group outings listening to Regulus discuss aesthetics with Evan and Barty. Among his stuff in his room, he always found art history books and art magazines. Sirius once gave him a leather notebook with some famous painting on it (he heard some sort of Moan It, but he wasn’t sure).

James wants to understand this part of Regulus, but he always found art boring. When his parents took him on trips as a kid, James hated museums. They just looked like a bunch of old drawings with old people. He strode through them and dragged Euphemia and Fleamont by the hand until they left the dusty building and went to the park for ice cream. College did not draw James closer to intellectual pursuits. He still prefers to compete with Sirius, who can eat more hot dogs in a minute than stare at the "Mona Lisa.".

The closer the relationship between him and Regulus becomes, however, the more doubts he begins to have. Regulus is not only exceptionally beautiful and charming; he is also intelligent, refined, and elegant in every gesture. James is scared that Regulus will never take him seriously as a potential partner when he will finally see that James is not as smart as him.

Because of this, James invited Regulus on a date at the art museum. He is determined to impress his lover and show him that he too can like such things. He had spent a few days with Sirius and Remus trying to figure out this whole art thing, and he thought he was absolutely ready to get Regulus enchanted.

Panic hit him when he and Regulus arrived at the museum, and instead of those gold-framed paintings on the walls, they were white industrial rooms with all sorts of strange objects that the people around looked at with interest. James also checked that they were in the right place. Yes, it said "Museum of Contemporary Art" in big letters. Then where is the art? Remus had shown him pictures of people and pretty landscapes in the albums, not stones sitting on chairs and pieces of iron oddly welded together.

James regains himself. This is not the time to panic; he can handle it. He knows fancy words like "perspective" and "plasticity." He walks over to Regulus, who was staring at something on a wall.

"Interesting piece, isn't it? I can see the artistic vision in this. The colors are proportioned to balance the composition perfectly. A true work of art,” says James with face confidence.

Regulus turns his head towards him, his expression so neutral it looks like a Renaissance portrait.

"James" Regulus began. "This is the map of the exhibition. It’s written down how to get to the toilet from here."

All the color in James' face drains, and he becomes as pale as a ghost. He has no hope left; he sees himself dying old and alone in a house with twelve cats. As James imagines fateful, horrible scenarios, Regulus lets out a giggle. He finds it cute that James is trying so hard to impress him. Regulus grabs his lover by the shirt and pulls him into a short kiss.

“Come on, I want to see some sculptures. In one of the rooms they have a Pollock, I think you'll like it. And after we're done here, we can go eat some hot dogs at the place that you like. I heard from Sirisu that you can put 5 hot dogs in your mouth at the same time. I'd like to see that,” Regulus said, dragging James at his hand.

James raises his head like a puppy and his face lightens up. He nods with a big smile and intertwines his fingers with Regulus', entering the exhibit together. Later, he will show Regulus that he can actually put six hot dogs in his mouth.

[semisolidmind]

So... how would the scene play out with Azure helping MK, Mei, and reincarnated Peaches go? Would he take the opportunity to yoink Peaches with Sun Wukong and/or Macaque trapped in the scroll (if that even happens)?

Or if he successfully becomes Jade emperor would he let the power get to his head and hold Peaches captive?

These are just some scenarios that have crossed my mind, feel free to ignore!

ooooohoohoo skye i love your questions

we'll just go with modern twice as bad au, to keep this relatively simple. it takes place in the lmk timeline; wukong and macaque are big bad guys, mk was raised by wukong and looks naturally like his monkey self, reader in the current era is a reincarnation of the reader from the past who was killed whilst on the journey with her two demon husbands, said husbands have been intermittently causing trouble and flirting with her every chance they get. reader works at pigsys alongside mk as the cashier/other delivery person, and is friends with the gang.

so, i imagine this is happening after the final lbd fight, but in this au wukong and macaque are also big bads, so their helping to defeat her is more because mk asked than out of any sense of heroism. they're still very much evil, they insist, and after that little bout of heroism they go back to being the bastards everyone knows them as. buuuut just a bit more tolerant of mk's friends (mostly because reader has influenced them with kindness bit by bit up to this point, shoujo-protagonist-style).

wukong invites reader to come to the mountain with mk after his monster-of-the-week battle with the twin metal demons in order to "help them organize" all the junk the kid is bringing home. really, he just wanted to get reader to the mountain so he could see her again and tease her (maybe she inadvertently admitted to finding him attractive in a heated moment the last time they met, during the big battle. like, telling him to get his big dumb handsome head in the game or smth idk). macaque joins in on the teasing too, of course.

mk, ever oblivious to his caretakers blatantly flirting with his coworker, opens the memory scroll by mistake. it almost gets him, if not for macaque quickly grabbing him by the back of his shirt and tossing him out of the way. unfortunately, this means the six-eared demon is absorbed into the ink. mk turns to wukong for help, and is firmly told to take reader and run. wukong stops a strike from the ink entity before being absorbed as well. reader and mk call out for them, but run for their lives until they get beyond the scrolls reach.

they go back later with their friends, the gang excluding mei get absorbed, and they're saved by a lion demon who introduces himself as azure.

the newcomer pauses when he looks at reader, a strange, stricken look crossing his features, almost as if he recognizes her. he looks like he wants to say something...but the moment passes and he continues his introduction. the two teens insist on going to save their friends (kinda ignoring reader's concerned voice in the bg), and he eventually agrees to help them.

the monkey demon boy and dragon girl go into the scroll (with the same reckless excitement they display in every other aspect of their lives), leaving reader behind with an unfamiliar demon. the distrust must show on her face, because said demon maintains his distance with the promise that he means her no harm.

azure tries to reassure reader, and offers to answer the many questions he's sure she has.

azure would explain the story a bit more in depth to reader (spinning it in his favor, of course). he would tell her the truths the monkey demons are hesitant to say; how reader's previous incarnation was a captive wife to the so-called great sage and his general, how monstrous the two really were, just how much bloodshed and chaos they caused... even when in service of the great monk.

reader is stunned—but not as surprised as she thought she'd be. anyone who pays even the slightest mote of attention to the world around them could tell you about just how much trouble the infamous monkey king is responsible for. kidnapping and hostage-taking seems tame in comparison.

when azure tells her point-blank who she used to be, reader goes silent. she's always felt a strange pull in her chest whenever she's around wukong and macaque. like she wants to get closer, but also wants to run as far away from them as she can. it's sobering to know why. she feels something similar when she looks at azure, she admits.

he chuckles fondly at her. it makes sense, he says, they used to be close after all. among the monkey king's allies, he was the only one who befriended the human queen of flower fruit mountain. azure assures her that her previous self was a kind person, that she had many friends who mourned her passing; himself included. reader says nothing, too stunned to speak.

azure lion rises from where he sits, stating that he must move the ritual site to his own home in order to bring the many victims of the scroll safely out. reader insists that she go with him. no offense, but i don't trust you with them, she says. azure chuckles, agreeing that blindly trusting someone you've just met wouldn't be very sensible. the two travel to camel ridge, and azure gives reader a tour.

---

sometime later, mk and mei bring each of their friends back to their present selves. they manage to free themselves as well (after mk has an...enlightening encounter with the scrolls' curse about his human half). they learn some interesting things about their past selves, and their many foes. they break themselves out of the scroll and confront azure about everything they've seen.

azure is holding reader hostage. the lion pins reader to his chest, and she struggles in vain to escape his grip. she yells, hurriedly telling them that azure isn't a good guy, he—! the lion moves his paw over her mouth. his expression is grim as she claws at the appendage.

the gang barely hold back from attacking him, not wanting to hurt reader in the process. though mei stubbornly tries to land a strike at the lion's head, getting knocked back.

azure says he didn't want to do it this way, but...he can't have anyone messing up his plans.

perhaps he puts reader into a scroll peice, right before the very eyes of her friends.

they stand horrified as she dissapears. azure glances at the scroll peice, tracing the characters of reader's name with his eyes. his expression softens a bit. he delivers his monologue to the gang, azure frees his brothers, they attempt to fight, the gang flees when their weapons are taken. they hate to leave reader behind, but... they're outmatched.

---

reader is forced to relive key moments in her past life as captive queen of the monkey king and the six-eared macaque. she learns more about them than she ever thought she would (way, way more; some of those memories were spicy 👀). she begins to understand why they treat her like they do, despite her seemingly being just another of mk's friends.

she plans on confronting them about it once she's been freed.

meanwhile, the gang is training and getting better, trying to figure out how to get both reader and wukong's scroll peices back. reader's peice is better hidden than wukong's, and so it'll be more difficult to recover. they have no idea where macaque's peice is, but one mystic monkey on their side is better than none. they know the two warlords are their best bet for defeating azure and the brotherhood.

thanks to some quick thinking, somewhat of a plan, and a whole lotta luck, the gang recovers wukong's scroll peice. they repair it, and it only takes a bit of prying from mk to get him out. the ginger-furred demon really doesn't like dwelling on his memories.

the rage radiating off the newly-freed monkey king is palpable. the hatred he feels for his once-allies is a force all on its own. now, mk and the gang just need to unleash it.

everyone is on edge during the battle, choosing to keep their distance and do their part while monkey king and mk fight azure. wukong demands to know where reader is. what have they done with her? if they laid even a single hand on her their lives are forfeit, he promises. he and azure fight for a while, trading jabs and airing out their grievances... to kinda everyone? the friends never would've guessed monkey king had romantic drama, but here they are.

it's likely they don't get reader's scroll peice back until later. i imagine macaque, after being freed (maybe it's revealed he was never trapped at all and it was just a trick; he sank into a shadow, not the ink, and that's why they don't see him in the scroll; watching and waiting for the right time to strike), sneaking into the jade palace to find her. he knows that the lion would keep her someplace he thinks she won't be in danger of being broken. when mac does find her (hidden by the throne, wrapped in a part of the lions' old cape), he handles the scroll peice as gently as glass, pressing it to his chest as he leaves the palace. he'll be the one to bring her out. he was her favorite, after all.

(kinda phoning in this part cause ive run outta steam)

the big battle happens, the gang defeats azure, they kill him, it's real sad, things sorta go back to normal. i imagine that wukong, macaque, and reader will have to have a long talk about everything.

[catscidr]

hiiiii omg your childe fic was SO. CUTE. 😭😭🩷🩷🩷 sooooo could I request a scenario where alhaitham and reader are roommates???? romantic tension is real 🤭 imagine the lingering stares at his body (muscles) and getting caught ??? you cooking for him?? falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch?? helping him fix his tie for work???? he's so cute i am absolutely deranged i am so sorry ☺️☺️☺️ dating but not dating fr

i made this into a drabble-y format because i wanted to write things inspired by ur ideas without the story dragging on or being repetitive ueagdhfgs i GET the al haitham brainrot he’s so. aa. if i ever say no to romanticizing mundane life call the fire dept because that is Not me. also never apologize for being feral over a fictional man...... no one is immune to hot 2d men ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, domestic life shenanigans, reader ogles his muscles bc Yeah, lowkey crack a little bit includes: gn!reader, alhaitham, lowkey modern au sorta kindof maybe wc: 1,3k

Living with Alhaitham is easy. Living with your feelings for him, however, is not. At first you thought you would simply get flustered by him because he looked intimidating and because you didn’t know him all that well- you were just a little scared of him and the way your heart raced around him was because of your body panicking. Surely. But, the more time went on and you got to know him, slowly but surely, he came out of his shell and your schedules began to merge to allow yourselves to easily (metaphorically) dance around the other, a seamless waltz that you perfected to a tee. And, to no one's surprise, you weren't perpetually flustered because of how scary he could look.

-ˋˏ his and your chores

Cleaning up after yourself when you live with someone is imperative; when you live alone you can let yourself go a little, but when you share a living space with someone it’s only courteous to keep your shared space clean of any messes. 

You and Alhaitham had agreed that you’d share chores. Most of the time, when you were on picking-up-the-trash duty you wouldn’t need to do too much since he would have emptied out his own trashcan in the communal bin, and the same thing applied to him when it was his turn to maintain your shared bathroom clean since you’d do your best to keep it as clean as possible. However, one of the things you didn’t realize would affect you so much was when you had agreed to this “system” was when you’d see him do the dishes for the first time. 

Something as banal as your roommate standing over the kitchen sink, sleeveless shirt exposing his muscles as he scrubbed the plates you had both used to eat dinner. Was it the water that would occasionally splash on him, making his black tank look even the slightest bit sheer and making you stare shamelessly, drinking in the sight? Was it his small scowl whenever he touched soggy bits of food in the sink? (making you wish he was scowling at you in a strange desire to have his attention even if it was as a result of a bad thing)

...it was probably because, when he was doing the dishes, you realized he always had his headphones in, and it allowed you to stare at him all you wanted when he wasn’t facing you because he was so focused on his task. 

He caught you staring once, but you managed to convince him that it wasn't what it looked like (it was) 

-ˋˏ coming back from the gym 

Alhaitham went to the gym often, that much you could guess from his build. No one had biceps that thick from genes alone- you got to confirm your guess when you (literally) ran into him when he was coming back from the gym in the middle of the night. He promptly apologized (with an expressionless face) and explained that the gym was much quieter at 3am when you asked him why in the Seven he was at the gym so late. Though the flat was dark, you could still see the faint outline of his body from the small bits of moonlight shining through... somewhere. Peeling your eyes away from him you make your way to the fridge to do what you had come out of your room for- that good cold, mid-night glass of water. 

His eyes followed your sluggish figure, scoffing amusedly. With only a few steps, he catches up to you and grabs the glass from your hands, chugging it. Some water dribbles down the side of his mouth down his chin and you do nothing but gawk at him, emotions a mess. 

Should you be mad he so rudely took your glass of water? Or should you be grateful you could see how body properly, illuminated by the fridge light? One thing you knew for sure, you were going to need to grab a new glass of water since he stole yours. 

-ˋˏ making food

With your chores separated, there was one thing you had agreed to do on your own- that being anything regarding lunch and dinner. Breakfast was easy enough; you’d eat a normal portion of a normal breakfast while Al Haitham would eat almost twice as much as you because of his workout routine (he had explained how he had to bulk and offered to pay for the extra groceries) so you often ate the same thing since it was more convenient. 

Lunch was different. Sometimes you had places to be (whether it be work or class) and you wouldn’t be there to eat lunch, vice versa. The same thing applied to dinner. So, when you both were at the apartment at the same time for a meal that wasn’t breakfast, you’d make food for the other- but only occasionally. Basically, only when you felt like it. 

The first time he cooked you dinner he made a hearty soup that, by taking one glance at it, made your mouth water. You insisted that he make more to keep as leftovers so you could bring some to eat when you had time between classes, but he refused, saying that it was best fresh. 

So, he made you dinner more often. Every time he did you felt your heart clench at the domestic sight; Alhaitham in a corny, pink and frilly apron with his sleeves rolled up, carefully chopping up vegetables and tossing spices in the pot. 

One time he accidentally cut his finger and you rushed to his side to help. You held his hand under the running water of the sink and had to force your brain to act normally- it was hard not to let it wander when you kept focusing on the feeling of his hand in yours. 

A different time, he made you taste the broth by holding the spoon up to your mouth. The proximity nearly killed you. 

-ˋˏ convincing him to play games together 

Your roommate spent most of his time being productive, unlike you. Most of the time. 

You offered to play games together every so often when you had first moved in. His answer was a polite no (but still equally gut-wrenching and embarrassing to be on the receiving end of) and you gave up for a while. It couldn’t be that bad to have a beefy, intimidating roommate you barely knew, right? It was fine if you stayed strangers and just... respected the other person’s space. Probably. 

But eventually, your relationship changed from strangers to roommates to acquainted roommates. It was then that, when he saw you on your laptop in the living room, playing the role of Player 1 and Player 2 to solve puzzles, that he thought maybe he should just... play something with you. He told himself that he just felt bad for you, but part of him was actually interested in what you were playing. 

He sat next to you, startling you from the sudden shift on the sofa. 

“Is your offer still on the table?” he asked with an amused smirk, watching the character on your screen fall into poison. With a bashful smile you nod, placing the laptop closer to him so it could rest on your right thigh and his left thigh. 

Explaining the rules of the game was easy enough; you’re fireboy and he’s watergirl, each of you have to go through your own door to clear the level and to get to those doors you have to solve puzzles with the other one’s help. Needless to say, you both learned a lot from each other.  

You didn’t know your silver haired, perpetually calm roommate could raise his voice and he didn’t know you had such a wide, extensive vocabulary. 

[theforestwisperings]

The lark headcanons! (Part one)

I have a lot of silly headcanons on mind. Maybe this will be a HUGE post but I need to get this out of my mind.

Ofc this will be have a lot of colentine and imaginative scenarios

Disclaimer: Remember that this are headcanons!

This is NOT CANON and doesn't have the intention of spread misinformation. If you want real lore information, Remember check yaelokre's medias!!

Also, I'm sorry if my English sounds Rudimentary, I'm not a native speaker

🌾 The larks sharing a house

Perrine

(not a real) owner of the house. Always have control on the other ones ("Kingsley don't eat that you're gonna get sick")

Cozy room. The larks always enjoy having time on there.

Have in exhibition their own skull collection (and loves when someone wants to know more about)

HUGE WINDOW that have views to the forest

All of their decorations have brownish tones

Have a secretly spot with portraits of the others (specially Kingsley) (a/n: this is in the most fraternal way posible)

Kitchen owner (with Cole) and loves to cook btw

Confident of clemm, they usually have sleepovers (when clémmie aren't with Cole)

Silent. Doesn't speak to much

Sometimes even forget their voice

Have a hum language and the lark (surprisingly) understand them

Cole

Big room and bed. Usually sleeps with clémentine (but clemm also have their own room)

Messy but they have an order

Have a lot of notebooks/sheets in every single space

Also have a little love letters that they made to clemm but they never gives. (Such a shy little one)

The decorations of the room are always in greenish and blueish colours

Love working on night. Ofc they have a lot of candles.

Have a hare plush that clémentine gives them ("it reminds me of you!")

Have a wall with "pictures" (that's really portraits) of their friends

Usually helps Perrine with cooking and cleaning (specially cleaning)

Clémentine

The cleanest room. (They actually didn't spend a lot of time in there)

Have a huge dresser with all the things to have their curls cutely perfect

In the dresser there's a cole portrait (not a huge fan of portraits) and some letters to cole

Have the habit of walking barefoot

Have a lot of plushes that they made by themselves (a handcraft fairy)

Every plush have their name and favourite place on the room

Also ofc they have tea-parties with them

Have a library. Loves to read a lot.

Yellowish, blueish and greyish decorations.

Hides fruits and other snacks because they're just don't want to get out for food

Kingsley

Surprisingly, he is so organized. Loves to see their room clean

Small room. They actually want this space.

A little roof pass across their room

Have a cricket terrarium. Loves to see every single detail on them

And they usually gives that as a gift

Likes to draw. They have a lot of drawings in their desk

Greenish decorations

Nocturnal habits. He goes to sleep in the early morning

Likes to scare the other larks (specially Cole)

Have lots of portraits with Perrine

🐍 Modern life! AU

Perrine

Big fluffy clothes>>>>

Love sports. Part of a basketball team

Have a lot of injuries playing basketball

But they have their friends that take care of them

Quiet person

Take care of the larks in the remoteness

Loves physical contact

Cole

Anxiety and misophonia issues.

Tendency to being alone in free times

Needs academic validation so bad

Nervous but quiet

Hate physical contact but with clémmie make an exception

Everyone notes that exception

Writer of poetry

The face mask are their most important accessory

Clémentine

The curly method is the most important part of them

Loves fashion and Scarves. Like a lot

Layering clothes because they love it

Doesn't like to be alone. They always plays with Kingsley

hopeless romantic. Loves the idea of being in love and all the things

Having mixed feelings with Cole but there's no confidence enough to talk with Cole about that

Genius in math

Kingsley

Messiest child. With a lot of rebel intentions

Enjoy to play in the mud and rain

Always dirty (pretty self explanatory)

Clémentine best friend

Have a tendency of get hurt frequently

One time, they saved a cat on a tree. Then they fall resoundingly of the tree

They are okay I swear

Struggles with math

Artist kid, with innocence and pure heart. (A/n: protect them to all costs)

[canisalbus]

My ocs have their world situated in modern times but i have a renaissance au for them cause i love history and speculating about them in a different setting. One of them became a monk at some point and even travels to Rome several times, and ever since i discovered your art i couldn't help but wonder how would Machete react to him since they're vastly different. For example my oc is relaxed to a fault and just goes for his bussiness and his type of faith is very strong but not in a fanatical or obsessed type of way but more like that of mystics (like saint John of the Cross for example), so i can only imagine an scenario where there is some sort of reunion or theological debate at the Vatican and Machete being very weirded out by him, also i think his dog form would be a spanish mastiff so just imagine poor Machete next to this scary but chill giant 😂.

.