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awardenandacrow · 21 hours ago

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🌻 Naimeryn “Rook” Thorne is 30 years old. Her birthday was the day of the Ritual. Naimeryn’s birthday has always been a low-fuss affair, acknowledged by those close to her, but there’s never been money for gifts or a cake or anything if the like. She and Varric shared a beer at the bar.

🪻prior to Veilguard, the injuries she sustained fighting Darkspawn in the battle that put her on leave from the Wardens were the most painful, as the head injury was substantial. It left her mostly blind and mostly deaf on her left side. This impacts her interpersonally — she struggles to hear and see people who stand on that side — and in the field, leaving her at a distinct disadvantage from that side. She can be jumpy and appear paranoid, as she takes extra caution to check her surroundings in unfamiliar situations. I’ve written my headcanon most painful injury for her now, during the events of Veilguard — getting blown up by a gaatlock trap Taash inadvertently set off with their fire while on the Fangscorcher mission. Those scars are large and gnarled, and have a hugely negative effect on her self esteem.

🌹 I haven’t written it yet, but the first time Lucanis calls her “beautiful,” they’re going to get into a fight because she won’t believe him. She can wrap her head around, maybe, that he likes her for her, enjoys her as a person, and *maybe* finds her pretty, but ✨beautiful✨? She never expected empty, blatantly untrue flattery from him, and is hurt. Lucanis — with Spite’s help, of course — is gonna have to make a point of spelling out just how all those things she hates about herself are beautiful to him to convince her… and get forgiveness.

🌸 Naimeryn is an only child, and she’s always been kept at arm’s length — or, perhaps, kept others at arm’s length — so the Veilguard is the first time she’s really had close friends. After Weisshaupt, she grows closer to fellow Wardens Antoine and Evka, who helped secure victory with her plan at the Blighted village, and Greta, who is the only other remaining member of her Joining. She and Teia also grow close throughout the events of Veilguard.

🌾 Several demons have tried to get their hooks into Naimeryn, but they’ve always been thwarted by her determination not to lose herself or endanger those around her. He may not be Determination any longer, but she still has Spite around to beat back any and all challengers.

🌱 Naimeryn has had crushes before, but never any relationships. There was a fellow slave who pretended to like her to get close to another girl when she was 13, and a few Wardens who ultimately decided they weren’t interested in doing the extra work it would take to get into her pants. Generally, if someone flirts with her first, she assumes they want something from her. If she flirts and they flirt back, she assumes she’s given them the wrong idea, but they don’t actually *like* her. Lucanis will be her first everything.

🌼 Spite says Naimeryn smells like Blight and Lavender. He remembers other scents — the air after a downpour, honeycomb and mint, musty books, but she doesn’t smell like those things anymore.

🌷 Rook’s go to place for peace was a secret nook in Weisshaupt’s library. She hadn’t been there since leaving with Varric, and now that place is gone. She often feels trapped in her role, because now she feels she has nowhere to go when she needs to think or be alone. This makes good fanfic fodder, however, as companions get to walk in on her in moments of weakness — which makes her feel like a failure, but makes them appreciate her more as a person.

🥀 Naimeryn’s mother will make an appearance in the regret prison.

🪷 It’s not really *irrational*, but Naimeryn for a very long time was absolutely terrified of becoming an abomination, like to the point that she kind of thought it was inevitable and was just afraid of the not knowing WHEN it was going to happen. She mostly isn’t afraid of this anymore, as she trusts herself more now than at any other point in her life, but it still tears it’s ugly head from time to time.

☘️ Naimeryn’s whole life has been a near-death experience. However, specifically she almost died saving that town from the Darkspawn horde. As she lost consciousness, she wondered if the plan had worked, she wondered where the spirit that had been following her around her whole life had gone, and, upon hearing her fellow Wardens searching for her, she found peace that she wouldn’t die alone after all. I also wrote a near death experience for her after the Fangscorcher mission. All she could think was she COULD NOT DIE with Taash thinking it was their fault.

💐 The First Warden has hated Naimeryn’s since the day Saimaeria Mahariel, Hero of Ferelden, showed up on Weisshaupt’s doorstep and said “here you go. Train her up!” Varric honestly rescued her from this man’s ire — she survived the Ogre and he was ready to kill her himself with his bare damn hands.

🌺 Naimeryn has never had ✨anything.✨Before Loghain sold her and her mother to Tevinter slavers, however, the one thing she did have was a hand knit baby blanket the alienage’s elder gave to her mother when she was born. It was on her bed when she was taken.

🌿 Naimeryn’s first tattoo was the snake on her forehead. A Tevinter Mage Receuit who completed the Joining with Naimeryn dated her to get a snake tattoo, saying she wouldn’t because she was too “soft” to permanently put the iconography of the people who had enslaved her on her body. Naimeryn was damn proud of having survived that house and desperate to prove she belonged, so she came back the next morning with it on her forehead. A few years later she was working in Weisshaupt’s library and devoured any bit of information she could on griffons — albeit there wasn’t very much — and decided she wanted a tattoo that *she* chose and genuinely wanted, and so she got a griffon tattooed on her left thigh. Once Davrin & Bellara drag her around Arlathan enough and she gets to touch grass and smell flowers, and after she sees the Brona’s Bloom cavern, she’s gonna get some floral tattoos done as well.

🍂 Naimeryn doesn’t talk about it, but she was actually the one who like the magister who enslaved her when Saimaeria and the Shadow Dragons freed her and the other slaves in the manor. She lost control of her magic and killed him in an instant, in front of his young children. It took Saimaeria almost a full week to get her to talk at all. To this day, she doesn’t know how to feel about it.

This was so fun! I hope you guys like it!

Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them? 🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred? 🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved? 🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard? 🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold? 🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end? 🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? 🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse? 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison? 🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater) 🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like? 🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food) 🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish? 🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

#dragon age the Veilguard #rook ask game #my rook #grey warden rook #Naimeryn Thorne #about my rook #original character #player character #headcannons #headcanon world state #fanfic #dragon age rook #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age #rook

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ka1rin · 2 days ago

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Blue Lock Romantic Tropes

isagi, kaiser, sae, rin, reo, nagi x reader (separate)

word count: 1.1k , genre: romance / fluff

note: this story is about what romantic trope would suit these Blue Lock characters. I hope you guys love this!

Isagi Yoichi — Childhood Friends

Yoichi Isagi had always been head over heels for her—though he didn’t realize it until it was almost too late. She’d been his best friend for as long as he could remember. She was the one who stayed after practice to kick a ball around when no one else would, the one who always seemed to know exactly what to say after a tough game.

But lately, everything felt different. He couldn’t stop noticing the way her hair caught the sunlight or the way her laughter softened the edges of a bad day. He wasn’t sure when it started, but he knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t just his best friend anymore.

They walked home together like always, her voice filling the air with stories about her day. Isagi barely heard a word. His mind was somewhere else, lost in thoughts he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

When they reached her street, she stopped and turned to face him. “You’re quieter than usual. What’s up?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. “Do you ever think about the future?”

Her brow furrowed. “Sure. Why?”

“I mean… us,” he said softly, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “Do you ever think about where we’ll end up?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. “What are you trying to say, Yoichi?”

“I think—no, I know—I want you in my future,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as my best friend, but as… something more.”

Michael Kaiser — Enemies to Lovers

Michael Kaiser had never believed in losing. In his mind, every match, every argument, every moment in life was a game to be won. That’s why she infuriated him so much. She wasn’t interested in playing by his rules.

From the moment they met, she challenged him—both on and off the field. She had a knack for seeing through his façade, stripping away the charm he used so effortlessly on everyone else. At first, he hated it. Then he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

One evening, after yet another clash on the pitch, he found her sitting alone in the stands. The moonlight caught the curve of her profile, making her look softer than he was used to seeing.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.

“Maybe I’m trying to figure you out,” he replied, sliding onto the bench beside her.

“You won’t,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re not as good at reading people as you think.”

Kaiser smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “And you’re not as immune to me as you pretend to be.”

Her lips twitched, but she said nothing.

For the first time, Kaiser felt like this wasn’t a game he could win—or one he wanted to.

Sae Itoshi — Second Chance

Sae Itoshi had always been good at letting go. Whether it was friends, family, or teammates, he had a way of detaching himself from people, of moving forward without looking back.

But she was different.

She’d been his calm in the storm, the person who grounded him when the pressure of his career threatened to swallow him whole. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on her until the day he walked away, convincing himself it was for the best.

Now, years later, she stood before him at the airport, looking as composed as ever. His pulse quickened at the sight of her, and for the first time in a long while, Sae felt unsure of himself.

“You’ve changed,” she said softly, studying him like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“Not enough,” he admitted, his voice steady but quiet.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she glanced away. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I couldn’t stay away,” he confessed. “Because letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Rin Itoshi — Sun and Moon

Rin Itoshi didn’t believe in distractions. He’d built his life around focus and discipline, shutting out anything that might interfere with his pursuit of perfection.

Then she came along.

She was everything he wasn’t—bright, cheerful, and completely unafraid to push her way into his life. At first, Rin had found her presence irritating, but over time, he started to notice the small things: the way she always brought him water during practice, the way her laughter filled the empty spaces of his world.

One afternoon, as they sat in the park, she turned to him with a mischievous grin. “You should smile more, you know. It’s not illegal.”

He frowned, looking away. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it suits you,” she said simply, leaning back against the bench.

Rin’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t know how to explain that smiling felt foreign to him—except when she was around.

Reo Mikage — Unrequited Love

Reo Mikage had always been drawn to her. She was different from everyone else in his life, uninterested in his money or his status. She treated him like an equal, never hesitating to call him out when he deserved it.

He’d fallen for her quietly, keeping his feelings to himself out of fear that she’d never see him the way he saw her. Still, he stayed by her side, always there when she needed him, hoping one day she might look at him differently.

One evening, as they sat together in a quiet café, she broke the silence. “Reo, why are you always here for me?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’ve never asked for anything in return,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Why?”

Reo hesitated, his heart pounding. “Because you’re important to me. That’s all.”

Her gaze lingered on him, and for the first time, he thought he saw something shift in her eyes.

Nagi Seishiro — Forced Proximity

Seishiro Nagi didn’t like effort. He preferred simplicity, staying in his comfort zone, and avoiding anything that felt like too much work.

So when she moved into his apartment as his new roommate, he wasn’t thrilled. She was loud, messy, and always finding ways to drag him into her whirlwind of energy. At first, he counted the days until she’d leave. But as time passed, he started to notice the way her laughter brightened the dull moments, the way she always made sure he had dinner even if she didn’t cook for herself.

One night, as they sat on the floor eating instant ramen, she looked over at him and smiled. “You’re not so bad to live with, you know.”

Nagi shrugged, his usual indifference masking the warmth spreading through his chest. “You’re okay too, I guess.”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Wow, such high praise.”

He glanced at her, his voice softer than usual. “I mean it. I don’t mind you being here.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, Nagi felt like that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

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hi mae!!! i absolutely love your writing and am evidently irrevocably in love with wolfstar. i just got my wisdom teeth taken out, and i know you already wrote something for poly!marauders with that, but could i request something for poly!wolfstar taking care of reader a few days after? so less loopy and more pain with lots of fluff and cuddles! feel free to ignore, love you darling!

Thanks for requesting lovely! Hope you feel better soon <3

cw: allusion to chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 627 words

“Hello,” Sirius says when the front door shushes open. He starts to fold over the page of his magazine. He hardly catches a bit of motion from the corner of his eye before you’re flopping down on top of him, forcing a soft oof from his sternum. “Oh, hello. Everything okay?”

You make a tortured groaning sound, forehead pushing into his neck.

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” Remus passes a loving hand over Sirius’ head in greeting, en route to the kitchen. “I’ll get your ice.”

“Aw,” Sirius tuts, letting his magazine lay tented over your back. He palms the back of your head gently. “Hard first day back at work?”

“It feels like it hurts worse,” you mumble into the space below his throat. The tip of your nose is cool where it presses to his skin. “I’m so tired.”

“Oh, I know, baby.” Sirius kisses the top of your head. “It’s not very fair, is it?”

“Pain is tiring,” Remus agrees. He passes Sirius an ice pack to settle against your cheek, holding onto another while he leans on the back of the couch. “It’ll get better over the next few days. Tomorrow should be easier.”

“I can’t think about tomorrow.” Your voice is softer, lips barely moving as Sirius holds the ice to your jaw. You shift your face from his neck, turning your eyes up to his. “Keep me here forever?”

Sirius feels his mouth spread in a grin. “You know I will, gorgeous. And I’ll do you one better, lift your head and I’ll put two ice packs on your cheeks.”

You pick your head up as directed. Remus passes Sirius the other ice pack, and he sandwiches your face between the two with a smile. Your poor cheeks are swollen and bruised, but Sirius thinks you look lovely despite it, even pouting the way you are. You look between your boyfriends as though waiting for them to do something about it.

Remus breaks first. “Oh, my love.” He gives a pitying laugh, folding over the back of the couch to hug your shoulders. “I’m sorry. The pain won’t last much longer, though. Just give yourself some time to heal.”

“Count yourself lucky you had wisdom to take,” Sirius says. “I didn’t have anything they wanted at all.”

“I’m so tired of this,” you sigh, leaning into Remus. “Sorry, I know it’s only been a couple of days, just. It’s just constant, you know?”

Remus hums. He knows better than most, better than Sirius for sure. Sirius feels overcome by a fond protectiveness for you both.

He touches a pinkie to Remus’ forearm where it’s wrapped around your clavicle. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says, rubbing. “It’s cruel and unjust to have either of you ever work again. I won’t entertain it.”

“Oh, you’re going to be our sole breadwinner now?” Remus asks, smiling.

“Quite right. I’ll need the two of you to carry your weight in homemaking, of course, but I’ll manage the rest.”

“And you reckon your income can cover our portions of the rent and groceries and all that?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, darling. It’s well in hand.”

“Let me lie about for the rest of the week,” you sigh. “Then I’ll go back to work and you can stay here, Rem.”

Remus turns his smile into the top of your head, nose denting into your hair. “Yeah? You sure?”

“M’sure.” You shut your eyes. Sirius grins at Remus, thinking that he has about thirty seconds to change positions before you fall asleep and he has to hold you this way all night. “Just need a few days.”

But Remus will indulge you in anything; he stays perfectly still. “Sure, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your head. “Whatever you need.”

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hyperfocusthusly · 7 hours ago

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Lifelines

——-

Tommy had been staring at his phone, typing out a message, an apology, anything. He always ends up deleting it. Over and over, so when it actually rings in his hand he almost drops it. The news hits him like a train, pushes everything else to the background.

His sister is dead. Her and her husband, car accident, didn’t stand a chance.

The flight is bad, the funeral worse and then someone from social services shows up with a baby he met once when she was newborn and only really recognises from pictures. The woman hands him a 6 month old child and explains that this is what they wanted. The will stipulated that he would be their guardian in such a circumstance.

He stares at her tiny face. She stares back.

He shuts the door and wonders how anyone could think this was the right choice.

——-

He has to tell his Captain. He chooses to tell Lucy. He distinctly chooses not to tell anyone else.

——-

Babies are hard, as it turns out. There’s no room for grief with an insistent baby taking up every waking second. No rest from being relentlessly needed. No telling her she’d be better off without him.

He thinks about calling.

While he watches her crawl down his hallway after a woodlouse, pointing insistently, letting out an excited little “ah!” as the bug in question scuttles under the shoe rack. She follows it carefully, watching with an intense curiosity that makes something churn deep inside Tommy’s chest.

He thinks about calling.

The first time she gets a fever and won’t settle unless she’s upright on his chest. It’s not the first time Tommy has gone 24 hours without sleep but it feels worse. His nerves scraped raw from her distress. His hand on her back counting her breaths over and over. He thinks about calling.

But what could he possibly say?

——-

The secrecy works until it doesn’t. Until the morning that Chimney is stood in the local doctor’s car park watching Tommy, darker eyed and more scruffy, strap an 8 month old into a seat in the back of his truck. Tommy doesn’t see him, or hear Jee whisper “is that Uncle Tommy daddy? Is that his baby?”

——-

It’s how Chimney ends up stood outside of Tommy’s door one lunchtime. He isn’t home but Chimney knows he needs to wait. He knows what trying to handle a baby that age by yourself is like.

When Tommy gets home and sees who is waiting for him Chimney has to give him credit for actually pulling into the driveway rather than continuing in the opposite direction.

Tommy gets out of the car, Chimney doesn’t miss the moment he takes to collect himself before looking up to him.

“What are you doing here Howie?” He sounds ragged.

“Just checking in, two months is too long, I’m sure someone owes someone a beer.”

He goes for light hearted, trying to ease out some of the tension that has appeared in Tommy’s stance. He is hovering by the back door of his truck, fingers tucked into the door handle, endlessly thankful that she closed her eyes and fell asleep on the drive home. Something hovers in the air between them until Chimney takes a step forward.

“I saw you at the doctor’s last week.” Tommy’s brows crease slightly, then pull back as he realises what Chimney is actually telling him.

“Are you going to hide her from me forever?” Tommy looks relieved somehow, less trapped. He shakes his head and carefully takes her out of the car. Settling her into the crook of his arm and pulling her diaper bag over his shoulder.

“I don’t really drink beer too much anymore.”

“A coffee then?”

“Yeah.” He swallows nervously, tries not to let the implications of this meeting, and the conversation he knows is coming, get to him. “I could do with a coffee.”

—-

[read on A03]

Tagging some people who interacted with my abstract post about this (hope you enjoy!🫶🏻);

@leashybebes @beanarie @accefan-blog @big-urchin-energy @loucifersbitch @fyrehose @evansbuck-ley @sad-girl-hours23 @certifiedbisexualdisaster @theweewooshow @beckym2001 @kinardevans

And also some beloved pals;

@bidisasterevankinard @rubydaiquiri @sweaters-and-silly @apassingbird @sunnywithachanceofbi @theotherbuckley @desert--moonchild @comfortingevanbuckley @livelaughlou @epiphainie @actuallyitsellie @typicalopposite @wikiangela @bi-bi-buckleys @littlepaws9 @ohithankyou

#ahhhhh #not this silly little idea that took root #also accepting any suggestions for names #me with a megaphone: name! that! baby!#there will be more #but for all those who asked ye shall receive #single dad Tommy fic #life line #my post #my writing #bucktommy #(eventually)#tommy kinard #911 #911 fanfic #chimney han #bucktommy fanfic

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sinofwriting · 1 day ago

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Call - Charles Leclerc (DARK FIC)

Words: 685 Summary: It’s just a few days after Singapore and she has a call she really needs to make. (part of Claiming A Wife - Charles verse) Note(s): DARK fic, the first part is dark, so inherently this part is as well though this pretty much just fluff.

Part One | Part Two (NSFW)

Masterlist | Support Me!

Her stomach is in knots, her top teeth lightly moving against the skin of her knuckle as she stares at her phone.

She hadn’t talked to her family properly in months. Nothing uncommon with them. It was always the holidays where they saw each other on purpose and reunited. Texts were more than enough to keep up with each other. But she still called her parents and grandma every few months, just a brief check in and to hear their voices, to hear the reminder of her childhood.

She hasn’t heard that sound since the day before Charles claimed her.

Her heart no longer aches when she thinks of it, thinks of him. Not since Spain and especially not since Monza.

She needs to call them. Needs to tell them news before someone else does. And really it’s fortunate that all of her family either are too old to be on social media, hate it, or are too young to be on it. She should have called them after Spain, in August during the summer break, before Monza, directly after Monza. But now it’s the last break before the last six races of the year and she’s running out of time before she just ends up surprising them by bringing Charles to Christmas with no warning.

“What has you like this?”

She doesn’t even startle at the sound of Charles' voice, the way his arms immediately wrap around her. “I need to call my parents, tell them.”

“You are worried that they won’t take it well?”

A huff of laughter escapes her. “That is a way to put it.”

“Explain it to me.”

Her head drops back against his shoulder. “I’ve never shown my interest in dating to my family. I’ve never brought anyone home or mentioned anyone. It’s been a bit of a joke since I was seventeen that I was never going to marry, never going to have kids. And now,” She sighs, leaning further into him. “I have you. And telling my family that I’m married to someone they’ve never even heard of or met is going to be an even larger pill for them to swallow.”

Charles hums, breath tickling the skin of her neck. “It will be a surprise, but I doubt there will be much anger, perhaps some hurt, but there is nothing you can do about that, mon ange. They will feel what they must feel. And perhaps it won’t be so shocking to them that you got married out of nowhere to someone they’ve never heard of if you truly have never talked about dating with them.”

“They are going to get angry. I kept it for so long.”

His arms tighten at the slight whine in her voice. “I will more than take responsibility for that. You can tell them that it is my fault, Ferrari’s fault, the FIA’s fault. It can be on me.”

“It is on you.” She pouts. “I should be attending races wearing a Williams shirt in their garage glaring at Vowles and instead you have me raising the blood pressure of your team principal.”

“Red suits you much better and Fred needs to be kept on his toes. He forgets certain things and you can be a fantastic reminder.”

She sighs. “I miss being a lowly intern.”

Charles makes a noise of protest at her words, but before he can say anything, she has heard far too much from him about what exactly he thought of her as an intern, she turns in his hold, pressing their lips together and she moves to straddle him.

“This is unfair.” He tells her when she pulls away, but the look on his face is as if he’s looking at something worth more than life.

“I know.” She smiles, brushing their lips together, erasing that look from his face before she bursts at the seams from it. “Hold me while I call?”

His hands that had been resting on her thighs move up to her waist, giving her a squeeze before his arms wrap around her middle. “I won’t let go for a second.”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc dark fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #claiming a wife #claiming a wife : charles #sins fics

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kairoot · 1 day ago

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𝑇𝑂𝑃 𝑆𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓．． ──── 최산．

ׂ ִ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬．𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇，𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆． — 𝐩. 𝗌𝗉𝗒！𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝐠. 𝑒𝟤𝑙．𝑓𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿，𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 — 𝐰. 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌，𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁，𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎，𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾？ 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽．𝐰𝐜. 𝟦.𝟫𝗄

✉️ ──── thanks to sav for this lovely idea 😛 (we love papa san)

The building was cold with the monitors lighting up all over the room, casting sharp shadows across the walls. You’d been sitting in the same chair by the large wooden desk, waiting for what felt like hours. The folder that sat in front of you was open with papers spread out in a disorganized manner.

Finally, the gray double doors opened and in walked your boss and leader, Seonghwa. He wore the same unimpressed expression that he always did, dressed in his gray suit with his long jet black hair combed back neatly. His clipboard was at his side as he walked over to you, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.

He handed you the dossier, the file with way more information than the first one that sat in front of you before.

“If it wasn’t clear before, you’re infiltrating the Aurorian mansion, just on the other side of town.” He said, looking at your confused expression.

“Okay, but how is this getting us closer to catching Hongjoong? Isn’t he supposed to be off to Greece right now?” You opened the dossier, glancing at the info inside.

“He’s leaving tonight. But he’ll be at the mansion first, loading his teammates onto his ship with our amulet.” Seonghwa emphasized the fact that Hongjoong still had possession of the amulet. The amulet that belonged to Seonghwa and his organization.

Hongjoong, the most notorious pirate in town, had found a way to break into the organization’s underground lab just 3 days ago, stealing one of the most valuable creations that your boss owned.

Inside of the dossier, there was a blurry photograph of Hongjoong with the amulet around his neck, running away from the opening of the lab before anyone around could catch him in the act.

“He plans to activate it during the gala,” Seonghwa spoke again, his hands now clasped together in a professional manner.

“If he does..” He trailed off, his jaw tightening but he didn’t continue his sentence, leading you to think the cause of Hongjoong’s actions would be way more serious than you thought.

“You’ll need to stop him—and take it back. Before it’s too late.”

You didn’t say anything which lead Seonghwa to think you were a bit worried. He sighed, looking down for a moment as you just stared at the picture in front of you, thinking about everything he had told you.

“Look,” he said softly, placing his hand on yours. “I wouldn’t assign you to this mission if I didn’t think you were capable, Y/n.”

You blinked, still analyzing everything. You were one of Seonghwa’s best spies on the team and he made that clear every time you stepped into his office, so why were you doubting yourself now? It’s not like you’d never done anything dangerous, so what was all the worrying about?

“If it’s the captain you’re worried about—I know you’ll find him. He won’t be able to control that amulet and what’s inside.” Seonghwa said, still reassuring you.

“And what if I can’t get him?” You spoke, your voice slightly shaking.”

“You will. This isn’t an easy mission, but I’ve given you some help.”

You looked up at Seonghwa’s words, your eyebrows furrowing. And as if on cue, the double doors opened once more, the sound of footsteps echoing behind you. Seonghwa’s gaze flickered from the doors and back over to you, silently hoping that you wouldn’t flip out on him.

“Miss me, sweetheart?” A deep voice carried through the room before you even saw him, smooth and infuriatingly smug. You turned slightly in the chair to see the one person you hated the most. Choi San. Seonghwa’s cockiest agent.

He stood casually by the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets with a wicked grin on his lips. He was dressed in an unwrinkled gray suit, one that looked more like he wanted to charm someone out of their secrets.

You whipped your head around to look at Seonghwa, who remained in the same position, looking over at San with an unpleased expression.

“Seonghwa, what the hell? Out of all the agents on the team?” You scoffed.

He sighed again, “Half of the team is out right now, Y/n. Yeosang is undercover, Yunho is on surveillance today..”

“So? You couldn’t partner me with someone more.. serious?” You questioned.

“Oh, come on. I am serious,” San chuckled lightly, clearly amused at your defensiveness.

You only rolled your eyes at his response, not giving him the satisfaction of an argument. Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of hearing your complaints and San’s bold remarks.

“Listen,” he said. “It’s just for this assignment. Please, Y/n.”

You stared at him for a moment, lost for words. You knew how important that amulet was to Seonghwa and you knew the risks of it if Hongjoong had it in his possession any longer. You couldn’t let your bickering get in the way of what was really important.

“Alright.”

The doors to the agency slammed shut behind you, as you wasted no time heading to your car. San trailed a few steps behind you, his pace calm, contrasting to your determined strides.

“Why so eager, doll?” He snickered.

You didn’t bother turning around, continuing your journey to the parked car. “Unlike you, I’m focusing on what really matters.”

“I’m focused on what matters,” San said with a mocked defensive tone, jogging a bit to catch up to you. “But Hongjoong isn’t going anywhere— well, not yet.”

You glared at him for a moment as you approached your vehicle— a black sedan that was gifted to you from Seonghwa. You unlocked it with the click of the remote on your keys, gesturing to the passenger side.

“In.” You ordered, sliding into your spot in the driver’s seat.

San smirked at your tone, before opening the door, “So demanding, I love it.”

As you drove through the city, you reached for the dossier that Seonghwa gave you, flipping it open again to scan the contents inside. San leaned over to peek at the papers, his broad shoulder brushing against yours.

“Personal space, Choi.” You muttered, trying to angle the papers away from him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling the folder back to his view.

“Sharing is caring.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing at the page that listed all of Hongjoong’s associates.

The list wasn’t too long but one name stuck out to you the most. Jung Wooyoung— Tattoo Artist. There was a note by his name, indicating that Hongjoong was seen with him 3 days ago. The same day he stole the amulet from the lab.

“Tattoo artist, huh? Think he could give me a discount if I ask nicely?” San hummed, looking at the same name.

You sighed, not entertaining his remark, “We’ll start with him.”

“And I’ll lead the interrogation?” San smiled at you, his glasses sliding down his nose a bit as he propped his feet up on the dashboard.

You swatted his shoes off of the dashboard, earning a scoff from him. “Absolutely not.”

“What? You think I’ll be too good? Better than you?”

“No,” you answered flatly. “Just don’t need you getting us into any trouble.”

You parked a few feet away from the parlor, an undetectable building smushed between two abandoned buildings. The neon “open” sign flickered dimly in the window, the faint glow of it showing up against the cracked sidewalk.

“Great place. I bet Wooyoung’s just a delight.” San whistled as he stepped out of the car.

You shut the door to the driver’s side as you got out, taking a look at the building before walking ahead.

“Just remember what we’re here for. We ask questions and get out. No theatrics needed.”

San saluted mockingly, “You’re the boss.”

The shop smelled of metallic ink and old wood as you and San stepped inside, the bell on the door ringing behind you, indicating that you had entered. The buzzing of a tattoo gun was heard in a nearby corner as you walked further into the shop.

Wooyoung sat lazily in a swivel chair before turning to see who had entered. Once he saw you, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Well, well,” He said, sitting up in his chair. “New clients? Or just here to marvel at my work?”

“Neither,” you said curtly, now standing in front of him. “I need to ask you some things about Hongjoong. I’m sure you know him, no?”

Wooyoung’s smirk widened, his gaze flicking to San, who leaned against the doorframe watching Wooyoung intently.

“Hongjoong? That’s a big name for you to drop,” He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “You sure you’re not lost, sweetheart?”

“Nah, I think we’re in the right place.” San spoke, pushing himself off of the doorframe, coming to stand behind you.

Wooyoung seemed to be amused by the whole thing, the same grin remaining on his face. He definitely wasn’t intimidated by you two.

“We know Hongjoong was here three days ago, we just want to know why.”

Wooyoung leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. “Well, getting a sweet tat, of course.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, refusing to believe any of his lies.

“Wooyoung.”

“What? What makes you think I’d tell you anything?”

“‘Cause if you don’t, you won’t be holding another one of those tattoo guns ever again.” You leaned down to his level, a fake smile plastered on your face.

But Wooyoung didn’t flinch. Instead, he laughed in your face— a low, lazy sound that grated your nerves.

“Feisty one, I see. She yours?” He asked San, making a smile appear on his face as he slid his hands into his pockets like before.

“She wants to be.”

You shoved San softly, his antics irritating you. “Would you stop?”

He threw his hands up in a defending way as you turned back to Wooyoung, continuing to question him.

“Relax, Bonnie and Clyde,” He snickered again. “I’ll talk.. if she asks nicely.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your attitude at a minimum. “Wooyoung, would you tell us why Hongjoong was here.. please.”

He tapped his chin for a moment, “Not bad. But I think you can do better.”

San snorted, “Careful. She doesn’t like playing games.”

You sighed frustratingly, “You’re really not helping.”

Wooyoung’s eyes darted between you and San, seeming to enjoy your bickering.

“If you really want to know about Hongjoong..” He trailed off, spinning his chair to face one of his shelves, digging through the clutter.

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to you. You took it, reading the words on it. It was an address, scribbled in messy handwriting.

“He kept rambling about this place. Saying he needed to go there before he left town. I don’t know much, you’ll probably find more answers there.” Wooyoung shrugged.

You mumbled a “thanks”, still analyzing the address on the paper.

You stepped outside, the cold wind blowing against your face as you headed back to your car.

“I told you, ‘no theatrics’.” You mumbled to San as he walked next to you.

“What?” He asked innocently, smiling over at you.

You shook your head as you both approached your car, “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

“Why? I think we make a pretty great team, baby.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, unfolding the crumpled piece of paper that Wooyoung gave you. San stood a few feet away, fishing something out of his pocket.

“This address looks familiar but I can’t figure out why.” You murmured, tracing the letters and numbers with your finger.

San didn’t answer right away. You glanced up, seeing the faint glow of a lighter illuminating his face as he lit a cigarette.

He took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke in a way that felt too casual for your liking. His free hand was tucked into his pocket, his stance effortlessly confident. And almost.. attractive?

He raised an eyebrow at you, noticing how you stared at him. You blinked, not even realizing that you were looking at him for that long, quickly turning your gaze back to the paper.

He walked over to you, looking at the paper from over your shoulder.

“Oh shit,” he spoke, the cigarette hanging in between his lips. “That’s a drop-off point.”

You hummed in response, “Maybe he’s dropping something off?”

“Only one way to find out.”

You pushed yourself off of the hood, heading towards the driver’s side before turning to San.

“Put that out before you step foot in my car, please.”

He gave you a smug smile before throwing the cigarette on the ground, stomping out the lit end.

“I never knew you smoked,” You said, sitting in your seat and starting up the car.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, love,” He sighed, sliding in his spot in the passenger seat.

“Besides, I only do it when I’m bored. Keeps me entertained when my partner spends too much time overthinking.”

You huffed, “You know that stuff will kill you, right?”

“Yeah?” He turned his head, sharp eyes looking over his frames, gazing at you. “So will Hongjoong. But I don’t see you lecturing him about his life choices.”

“I’m not his babysitter,” You shot back, your hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“And you’re not mine.”

The rest of the drive to the drop-off point was tense but silent. You couldn’t tell if you pissed San off or if he was actually choosing to behave for once. But.. you couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked at you before when he took drags from his cigarette. There was something about it that you wanted to forget but couldn’t.

As you pulled up to the address, it was exactly how you’d imagined it. Dark, gloomy, and suspiciously quiet. The warehouse loomed ahead, the exterior worn down and barely visible under the dim sky.

“This should be fun,” San muttered.

“Stay sharp. If this has anything to do with Hongjoong, we’re bound to find trouble here.”

The two of you stepped out of the car, footsteps echoing against the pavement. As you approached the building, a rustling sound had caught your attention.

You both froze, turning in the direction of the noise, your hand grazing San’s out of fear.

Before either of you could say anything, three figures emerged from behind some bushes, their movements swift.

“Friends of Hongjoong’s, I’m guessing?” San said, his posture tense but ready.

“More like guards.” You replied, bracing yourself.

The tallest of the group stepped forward, his voice low and threatening. “You both need to leave.”

“Or what, big guy?” San smiled, stepping closer to the guy, taking off his glasses and tossing them off to the side.

You barely had time to react before the man lunged, aiming a punch at your face to which you dodged at first before he sent a blow to your shoulder, sending a sharp pain down your arm. You winced, stumbling back a bit before blocking his next hits and jabbing him in the stomach.

He staggered, but didn’t go down. He swung at you again, but failed miserably as he clutched his gut.

San, however, was putting on a show—at first. He dodged punches and kicks like it was a piece of cake. “Gotta be quicker than that fellas, c’mon.”

But unfortunately, his bold remarks cost him; one of the men swung at San, landing a hard punch to his jaw.

“Shit.” He hissed, stumbling away from him. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth, but his smirk didn’t falter.

Your opponent grabbed your wrist, twisting it as he shoved you against the wall. You gritted your teeth, slamming your knee into the same place you’d hit him before. He groaned, his grip loosening enough for you to pull your hand back, landing an elbow to his temple.

San was still taking on his two guys, landing an uppercut on one of them but not before he received a hit on his ribs. He doubled over, clutching his side but deciding to lung at the man with a burst of energy.

The third man chose that moment to jump in, barreling towards San but you intercepted him, kicking the back of his knee. He went down with a grunt, grabbing your ankle and yanking you off balance.

San grabbed the guy by the collar, yanking him back before throwing a punch at the guy’s nose, knocking him out cold.

Breathing heavily, you got to your feet, glancing at San. His lip was split, his hand pressed to his side where a bruise was already forming underneath his button up.

“Nice save,” You say, brushing the dirt off of your pants.

“Yeah.. Don’t mention it,” he said, wincing as he straightened up. “Seriously, don’t. I’ll never hear the end of it if you do.”

You roll your eyes scanning the scene in front of you. The men were sprawled out on the ground, groaning faintly.

“We should leave before more of them show up.” You said, walking back out of the entrance, heading to the car again. San didn’t respond, only following behind you, slightly wincing.

You drove off somewhere a bit more private and away from the warehouse before anymore henchman could attack you. San’s head was rested against the window as he continued to clutch his side.

You parked the car before reaching into your backseat, grabbing a first aid kit you kept with you at all times. You pulled out a cloth, wetting it with a small water bottle that was half empty from all the times you had to clean your own wounds.

“San,” you called him, earning a faint hum from him.

“Look at me.”

He lifted his head off of the window, looking at you and then the cloth in your hand. He didn’t say anything, but instead he reciprocated.

Hesitantly, you leaned in a bit, getting a better look at the wound on his lip, dry blood decorated the corner of his mouth and down his chin. You brought the cloth up to his wound, applying a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes tightly as he braced himself for the pain.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, softly patting it.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until San opened his eyes again, looking down at how focused you were. You caught his gaze, your face warming at the sight of him staring at you so intently.

The two of you didn’t say anything as you cleaned around his lip, patting it one more time to get the last bit of blood.

You were going to put the kit away before realizing that he still had one more injury. You reached back into the case, pulling out an instant cold pack, placing it to the side.

“I need you to unbutton your shirt.” You spoke softly, looking away for a moment.

San took in a breath for a moment, before readjusting himself in the seat, unbuttoning the gray vest and the white button up that was under it. He grimaced as he moved the sides of his shirt out of the way, his chest now on display. You glanced down at the area for a moment, noticing old scars that were there.

Your gaze then fell to his left side, where the area was now swelling up and slightly bruised. You reached out, running your fingers over it lightly, making San jump a bit at the contact.

“Sorry,” you said again. “I’m just gonna put this cool pack on it so the swelling can go down a bit.”

San nodded, his head falling back against the window while he waited for you to place the pack to his side. You felt bad for him, seeing how much pain he was in. But this was your job. These were the things that came with it.

You took the ice pack in your hand, bringing it to where the swelling was, resting it against the injury gently. San exhaled deeply, placing his larger hand over yours, pressing the ice pack into his side.

You shifted in your seat, beginning to pull your hand away from his side until he stopped you.

“No,” he murmured, his hand still remaining on top of yours. He opened his eyes to look down at where your hands were intertwined.

“Just stay.”

You stepped out of your car, your dress falling to your ankles as you smoothed out the material, shifting in it to make sure you were comfortable. It was a simple black velvet off-the shoulder gown, silver gem embroidery along the front. The back of the dress dipped low, just enough to reveal the curve of your spine.

You quickly placed your mask over your face, the material black with silver details to match your gown.

“Look at you,” a voice spoke from next to you. It was San, stepping out of his own car now, dressed in a sleek black suit.

“This mission just got so much more exciting.” He adds with a smile, licking his lips a bit. You scoff, starting to walk off without him but he catches up not too long after.

The mansion stood tall in front of you, the lights outside of it bright and golden. There were soft strains of classical music coming from the courtyard, mixing with the hum of expensive cars and the chatter of guests.

You and San both walked among them, blending in and acting natural. In reality, you both kept your eyes wide and your ears open, looking for any signs of your target.

As you were heading to the entrance, you felt San’s hand slip behind you, resting on the small of your back.

You almost jumped out of your skin, whipping your head around to look at him, “What are you doing?”

“Playing the part, of course.” He nodded his head at the people ahead of you, some of them seemed like they were couples, wrapped up in each other’s arms or guiding one another around as they linked arms.

“Oh, absolutely not—“ you were quick to lean away from him, but his fingers pressed into your side now, tightening his grip on you.

“Stop being so stubborn,” he said, continuing to walk. You looked up at him to see his expression nothing but calm. He was way too good at being undercover. But nonetheless, you remained nonchalant, following his lead.

Inside of the mansion, there were even more people, which almost made you nervous. How would you be able to find Hongjoong inside when half the town was there?

But you were able to recognize your team right away. Yunho was on the stairwell, speaking with a woman dressed in a red cocktail dress. Seonghwa was also there, in the middle of the gala, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

You scanned the room for any signs of the captain, but he was no where to be found— until everyone turned in the same direction.

The room had quieted down and everyone had stopped to look in the same spot. On the far side of the room, Hongjoong was coming down another staircase with two men on his side. One was tall with a sharp gaze and the other was a familiar face— Wooyoung. They were dressed in black but Hongjoong had on a blazer that exposed a bit of his chest. His hair was sleek and combed back neatly.

You saw Seonghwa turn to face you and San, beckoning you both over to where he was standing.

“I didn’t know you would be here, Hwa,” you whispered as he handed you both a small black device to which you assumed were earpieces. You both quickly placed them in your ear before anyone could notice anything.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. You could tell he was a bit on edge, but not in a fearful way. He was angry. Hongjoong had been known to taunt Seonghwa a lot, but he’d never actually taken anything from him before. You’d always thought he was all talk.

“I need to make sure that asshole gets caught.”

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted yours, “Welcome, all!”

It was Hongjoong. You turned back to see him grinning from the stairwell that he continued to stand on.

“I’m so glad everyone could be here tonight, seeing as I’m making my departure.” He said with a frown, making people ‘aww’ and make noises in disagreement.

As Hongjoong continued to speak about his gala and whatever else he wanted to boast about, you couldn’t help but notice the absence of the amulet. It wasn’t around his neck where it usually rested.

“He doesn’t have it,” you whispered to San and Seonghwa, causing them both to look closely at his neck. Nothing else was said, but Seonghwa gave cues to Yunho from across the room before turning back to you.

“Yunho and some of the other guys are gonna search the mansion, I need you two to keep eyes on Hongjoong, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere near those rooms on the second and third floor.” He explained quietly.

“What about you?” San asked him.

“I’ll still be down here but trying to stay out of his sight. If he knows I’m here then he’ll know the rest of you are, as well.” Seonghwa responded.

The party resumed once Hongjoong’s small speech was over, making you and San move away from Seonghwa a bit, not wanting to draw any attention to him or yourselves.

San pulled you to an area where people were dancing, causing you to hesitate for a moment, but somehow he spoke you into it.

“It’ll be fun,” he suggested, holding your hand tightly.

“San, we need to keep an eye on Hongjoong.” You whispered, not wanting to mention his name too loudly.

“I’m a great multitasker.” He teased. You sighed, looking back at where Seonghwa was standing. You really couldn’t mess up this mission but you needed to loosen up a bit, have some fun.

The music in the grand hall shifted, taking a slower rhythm. The soft hum of the violins and the gentle thrum of a bass made the air feel more charged.

San pulled you close, your chest pressed against his as you began to move to the music. His hand rested on your back, his fingers moving against your spine at times, caressing the area. You hand was intertwined with his, yet again, bringing you back to the moment between you when you helped him with his wounds.

You scanned the room for a moment to make sure nobody was watching too closely before turning back to San. Something about the way he looked at you—calm, yet determined—made your heart flutter.

“Relax,” he said suddenly, smiling down at you— a stark contrast to his usual cocky smirks.

“I am relaxed.” You responded, looking away from him for a moment. You wanted to escape his gaze.

“No,” he chuckled. “You’re tense.. and very jumpy. Just relax a bit.”

Your movements started off tentative, but you started to get the hang of it. San led with confidence that was impossible to resist. His steps were smooth, almost as if he’d done this before. Soon, you found yourself falling into rhythm with him.

“How’s your side?” You questioned, looking up at him.

“Not too bad, thanks to you.” His eyes locked with yours making you feel like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

The space between you shrank, the warmth of his body brushing against yours with every step. His hand flattened against your back, drawing you closer than before. It wasn’t a move that anyone else would notice, but to you, it was electrifying.

The music swelled, and San spun you in a graceful arc, his hand never leaving yours. When you came back to him, your faces were mere inches apart, and for a moment, you thought he might lean in.

Your breath hitched. Did you want him to?

“I gotta say,” he started, his voice more tender. “I didn’t think you’d say yes to dancing with me.”

“And why not?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I honestly thought you’d rather stab me than hold my hand.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Don’t tempt me.”

He chuckled, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. “Good to know you’re enjoying this, then.”

The song began to fade out, but neither of you stopped moving. The moment stretched on and your eyes never left his. You suddenly hoped that he’d lean in just a bit further, let his lips touch yours.

“San,” you whispered, blinking up at him slowly.

“Hm?”

But the once calm and intimate moment was cut short, loud commotion erupted from across the room, causing both of you to whip your head into the direction. Hongjoong was now moving through the crowd with a scowl on his face.

“They’re coming up to the third floor,” Yunho’s voice came through in the earpiece, indicating that him and the rest of the team had been caught.

You turned to see Seonghwa already giving you and San a curt nod, quickly responding to Yunho and moving to the stairwell.

“Let’s go, partner,” San called out playfully, grabbing your hand as you both followed Seonghwa, keeping a close ye on Hongjoong.

As the two of you continued your mission, you couldn’t ignore the lingering warmth of his touch or the memory of how close he was. You couldn’t stand him at first, but now you were slowly starting to see why Seonghwa had paired you up with him.

• • •

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yuikomorii · 1 day ago

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AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 2

// It’s time for the second chapter! This one focuses more on the conversations with other characters than on Ayayui interactions, but I’m really curious to see if anyone can guess who the second Diaboy to meet Yui will be. 👀

This story isn’t meant to be a harem or anything like that though, but all the Diaboys will meet Yui at some point. I hope you enjoy this chapter until the next one! 💖

Chapter 1

Place: Dorms

Ayato: Good night.

Laito: Nighty night~!

— Ayato enters his room —

Laito: ( Hmm… he seems unusually quiet. He hasn’t said a single word the entire way, which is so unlike him. )

( It’s as if something’s weighing on his mind, that he’s deliberately keeping to himself. )

( Something must have surely happened to him when he went outside, but why won’t he say anything? That’s weird… )

— stretches and yawns —

Anyway, there’s no point in overthinking it. As long as it doesn’t damage his and our reputation, it’s not worth worrying about.

Place: Ayato’s room

Ayato: ( Phew, I managed to slip into my bed without waking Shu up. )

( The last thing I needed was a lecture about sneaking off to the club as an idol and nearly getting caught. )

( Haa… what a mess. I really made a fool of myself today, didn’t I? )

( If it weren’t for that girl, I’d probably be in the hospital right now, all over the news for alcohol poisoning. )

( Man, that would’ve totally wrecked my career… )

???: Heh, where have you been?

Ayato: …!

( Was that—)

O-Oi, you’re not sleeping!?

Shu: I was until a certain someone tripped over the WI-FI cable and woke me up.

Ayato: ( Fuck! )

Shu: But whatever, I answered your question, so now it’s your turn to answer mine.

— opens one eye and looks at him —

Ayato: ( Wait… I could just make something up and play it off as the truth! )

( Heh, exactly! There’s no way he’d be able to tell it’s a lie! )

Just practicing. I want to be the best version of myself for the next concert, y’know?

Shu: Hmm… I see.

And now, what’s the real answer?

Ayato: …!?

( How did he— )

Hah? W-What do you mean? I’m telling the truth!

— Shu opens both eyes and looks at him —

Shu: You went there, didn’t you?

Ayato: …!

( This guy… he can see through me! )

How the hell did you know that I went to the night club!?

Shu: Heh~? So I was right after all. You really did go there, huh?

Ayato: ( You… You fucking tricked me! )

Look, I know I’m not the best at keeping things together, but don’t tell Reiji! I beg you!

If the leader finds out, the staff will know, and once the CEO hears, I’m done! He’ll fire me in a heartbeat, no questions asked!

Shu: You’re overreacting. No idol is gonna get fired for just going to a night club.

Ayato: Man, you just don’t get it! It’s not just about going there— it’s what went down while I was there!

Shu: Oh? Now you’ve got me curious. What exactly happened?

— starts piping —

Ayato: ( Why do I keep getting myself in this!? )

( Haa… but I guess there’s no point in running away from my issues anymore. )

Basically, I was very tired and thought of over drinking to get my mind think of something else, but the alcohol and exhaustion made a really bad combination, so my chest started aching.

I went outside to get some air, but the pain just kept getting worse until this random chick found me and gave me her water bottle.

Shu: Wait… so you got caught?

Ayato: Luckily, no! As crazy as this sounds, she didn’t recognize me.

Heck, she even asked for my name after I called her a cab! But of course, I’m not that dumb. I knew it would have been way too risky to tell her my name.

( Honestly, I don’t even know why I was so anxious about it. In the end, everything worked out just fine, and I bet that girl will forget all about it in a few hours anyway. )

Shu: Hmm… you do realize that might have merely been an act, don’t you?

Ayato: Huh? What do you mean…?

Shu: Women are sly as foxes.

They’ll play all innocent and clueless, behaving like they have no idea what’s going on, but in reality, they’re just getting exactly what they want without anyone even realizing it.

Heh, it’s almost impressive how they pull it off.

Ayato: Wait… so you mean that girl knew who I was and only pretended not to so as to stalk me? But if that’s the case, then——

Shu: Haa… no need to scream, it’s almost 3 in the morning.

I’m not saying she’s a stalker, but you should probably be more cautious.

You know how fangirls are. If they see you talking to any girl that’s not them, they’ll lose it. Better to just watch out and avoid any unnecessary trouble.

— closes eyes again —

Not just for you, but for everyone else around too.

Ayato’s monologue

Shu’s right. I need to step up my game and start taking this job more seriously.

Being an idol isn’t just a paycheck; it’s a responsibility that goes far beyond me.

Every choice I make carries weight, and not just for my future, but for the company’s and everyone I work with.

Yeah… Exactly. If I let my career fall apart, it’s not only me who’ll feel it— the whole team, every project, and all the hard work we’ve put into this place will take a hit as well.

That’s why, from now on, I’m done making stupid decisions that could mess everything up. My focus is on my idol activities and nothing else.

I should have realized from the moment I signed the contract that living like a normal teenager just isn’t part of the deal anymore.

*Timeskip*

Place: Hotel kitchen

Yui: ( Working here is surprisingly relaxing. Not only that, but the co-workers I met seem very nice too! )

( I’m really excited to put my cooking skills to good use. From what I remember, this hotel has a great reputation, therefore it’s truly amazing to learn from such experienced professionals. )

???: Noooo!!!

Yui: …!?

( It’s coming from the storeroom! )

— quickly opens it —

???: ….!

Yui: Hana-san!

I-I heard you scream, are you alright?

Hana: Wa—… Was I really that loud? This is so embarrassing… I’m so sorry!

— covers face with hands —

Yui: Ah, there’s no need to worry about that, it’s fine.

More importantly, what happened? Did something scare you?

Hana: No, I’m not scared, more like… disappointed.

In case you haven’t heard already, the SAKAMAKIS are filming a special episode for their YouTube channel at three different locations, and guess what? My two favorite members are coming to this hotel in 4 days, but the issue is... it’s happening right when I’m not on shift…!

— starts crying —

On top of that, I promised my sister I’d visit her in Fukuoka, since we'll both be off work at the same time, which means that there’s absolutely no way I can meet them now!

This is such terrible timing…!

Yui: ( SAKAMAKIS… Based on Hana-san’s intense reaction, they must be some sort of important public figures, no? )

Oww… it does sound unfortunate, but you shouldn’t give up hope completely. After all, you live in Japan, so I’m sure there’s always a chance you’ll get to meet them!

Hana: It’s not as easy as you say…

They will return to Korea soon, and who knows when they’ll promote in Japan again? This was my only opportunity to see them outside of the concerts… and I couldn’t even manage to get any decent seats there.

— pouts —

Yui: ( Wait, did she say ‘concerts’? )

Ohh, I see. So they’re idols!

Hana: Eh? You… You actually don’t know the SAKAMAKIS—!?

Yui: W-Well… I’m sorry, the name doesn't really ring a bell, and to be honest, I can’t say I’m familiar with the idol world in general.

Hana: But come on, you must have at least seen their faces before, right?

— shows her a picture of them —

Yui: ( Will she be let down again if I say ‘no’? )

( Hmm… But truth be told, these boys are undeniably good-looking, and it’s clear that they must be hardworking as well, considering how they manage to juggle such hectic schedules. )

( I can easily see why they’ve captured the hearts of such passionate fans. )

— eyes suddenly widen —

( The red-haired one——! )

— blushes —

Hana: So, who did steal Yui-san’s heart~?

Yui: Ah, n-nobody…!

— gets embarrassed —

It’s just that the boy in middle… he got an incredibly well-featured face. I don’t know how to put it into words, but he simply appears unreal.

( To think that a human could look like this… it makes me a bit envious. His eyes and face shape are especially pretty. )

— Hana starts laughing —

Yui: ( Eh? Did I say something wrong? )

Hana: Get in line, that’s Ayato-san!

Hmph… just the thought of not being able to see his tiny, perfect face up close makes my heart ache.

Yui: ( Hana-san… she really seems to love this group a lot. )

( I can't help but think that if I were in her shoes, I'd feel hurt too not being able to see someone I admire so much… )

Hey, Hana-san… I know it’s not exactly the same as having it personally from him, but if it’s possible, I’d be more than willing to ask Ayato-san for an autograph on your behalf!

Hana: Eh—? Would you really do that for me!?

Yui-san, you are the best!

— hugs her —

Yui: I-It’s nothing, really.

Hana: Wait a little—! Now that I think about it, you could also totally grab a photo with them! Isn’t that wonderful?

( I can’t believe it! This way I’ll be just one person away from Ayato-san! )

Yui: Uuh… I’m sure it’d be a nice memory to look back on, but wouldn’t it bother you if I did? After all, you’ve been their loyal fan all this time, not me.

Besides, there’s no guarantee that they would agree to take a picture with an ordinary person such as myself.

Hana: That doesn’t matter, silly! They’re super chill with their fans, and everyone says they never turn down a picture request— unless they’re busy, of course. There’s no way they’d refuse you, especially not in a setting like this.

You also mentioned being captivated by Ayato-san’s visuals, so fan or not, I think anyone would jump at the chance to take a picture with such a fine man~!

Yui’s monologue

Hana-san and I continued to talk about it for a while, and during our conversation, she suggested a few of their songs for me to listen to on my way back to the Airbnb.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I played each one, I was pleasantly surprised.

While I’m still not very knowledgeable about this group, the melodies, the lyrics, and even the energy in their performances were captivating in a way I hadn’t expected.

That Ayato boy… he seems like someone who was born to be on stage. Such charisma and beauty… It really makes me wonder how he acts off-cameras.

Hana-san has clearly supported the SAKAMAKIS for such a long time, and to finally get the chance to meet them, only to have it slip through her fingers, must be heartbreaking.

A part of me can’t shake the feeling of guilt, even though I know very well that it wasn’t my or anyone’s fault.

It might not be a fair comparison, I know, but it reminded me of the boy I met yesterday.

He has probably forgotten about me already, but just like Hana-san dreams of meeting her idols, I find myself wishing to meet him again.

Author’s note:

* In case you're wondering why Ayato is sharing a room with Shu and not Laito, many companies assign roommates to idols randomly. The idea is that idols are supposed to get along with everyone, so the arrangement is made to promote harmony and teamwork, regardless of personal preferences.

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #ayato sakamaki #dialovers #ayato x yui #ayayui #admin #my fanfic

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shanastoryteller · 17 hours ago

Text

They destroy a hundred seals in thirty days, which feels like good progress until Sam realizes even if they can keep up this pace, it’s going to take them nearly two years. “There has to be a faster way to do this.”

“It took three hundred thousand years to set the apocalypse in motion,” Castiel says dryly. “Patience is a virtue.”

“It took a year from first seal to last, don’t exaggerate,” he says, pacing the length of the motel room. Cas may not need things like food and sleep, but Sam is still human at the end of the day.

He’s refusing to touch the virtue bit. No one’s keeping track of those and they both know it.

Cas gives him a bitchy look that Sam tells himself he’s not growing fond of. “Yes. Sixty six seals took a year to open. We’ve destroyed nearly twice that in a month. You are not being reasonable about this.”

Maybe not, but they don’t have time to be. Can’t Cas feel it? Like something’s bearing down on them, hot breath on the back of their necks. If there’s one constant in Sam’s life, it’s that he never gets enough time. He doesn’t see why this should be any different. “What if we killed Lilith? She’s the last one, right? As long as the first seal hasn’t been opened, killing her destroys the seal. If the last one can’t be opened, Lucifer can’t be set free. Right?”

Cas tilts his head to the side. Sam kind of hates how quickly he’s picked that up this time around, but he’s only realizing now that it’s a gesture Cas learned from him, not Dean, and the first go around they hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time together in the beginning. “Likely correct. But even if we could find her, I’m unsure of your capabilities.”

“Fuck you too,” he says without heat. “I killed Azazel. I killed her before. I can do it again.”

“She wanted to be killed, last time,” Cas says. “She knew her death would grant Lucifer’s freedom and she did not fight you with all her strength. Killing Azazel is not killing Lilith. They are different beasts.”

“Wait,” he says, “are you telling me that Lilith is stronger than Azazel?”

Having killed them both, that’s really not what he would have guessed. Which means that Cas is probably right. Damn.

“What is stronger, blood or bone?” he asks. “She is Lucifer’s firstborn. There is power there.”

Great. “I’m more powerful this time,” he points out. Azazel’s blood – Lucifer’s blood – is still buzzing under his skin, not quite as hot and pounding as it was at first swallow, but not fading and sputtering out like Ruby’s blood always had. Something in between, maybe, except those first few drops of blood as a baby hadn’t had any immediate affects either. It’s probably a good thing he won’t live another twenty two years. Who knows what Lucifer’s blood will have done to him by then.

“Yes,” Cas says. “I just don’t know if you’re powerful enough.”

And if he’s not, Lilith won’t even kill him. He needs to be alive for Lucifer to wear, after all. No, whatever she does to him will be much worse.

Sam.

He turns, even though he knows they’re alone. But his name had been so clear.

Sam, please!

He looks around uneasily. “Do you hear that?”

Cas blinks. “No.”

“Seriously?” he demands.

Sam, please, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll give anything, please help me. Help her. Sam –

He moves, not entirely sure what he’s doing, shifting from one place to the other, not entirely sure where he’s going until he arrives.

He’s standing in an empty apartment building, a ghost howling in front of him that looks sort of familiar. What the hell?

“Sam!”

Taking his eyes off the ghost is probably stupid, but he looks behind him anyway and finds Ellen on her knees, tears streaming down her face. Jo is clutched in her arms, skin pale and eyes open and unseeing, bits of plaster in her hair and a gaping hole in the wall behind them.

“Holmes?” he asked incredulously, turning back to the ghost who’s getting steadily closer. Last time they trapped him in the basement and cemented him inside. Last time Sam hadn’t spent years researching how to banish the worst sorts of evil.

The incantation rolls off his tongue easily, half Latin and half something older than that, and Holmes screams as he burns up in whisps of smoke.

“Sam, please,” Ellen begs. “Please. You have to help her.”

How does Ellen even know him? They’ve never met before. Not here. He kneels across from her, heart clenching at Jo’s body. He’s supposed to be making things better, leaving and destroying the seals is supposed to fix things. Except he guesses he and Dean weren’t here to find Jo this time and Ellen got there too late. “She’s dead, Ellen.”

“So?” she asks fiercely. “Jim was dead. Caleb, that girl, Meg. They were all dead. You brought them back.”

He stares. “How do you know that?”

“Please,” she repeats. “She’s all I have left. Please, Sam. I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Just bring her back.”

Sam knows that desperation. He’s felt that desperation, those miserable four months when hell tore his brother apart.

But he doesn’t have the same overfull, burning power he had with the taste of Azazel’s blood in the back of his throat.

Ellen, proud, tough Ellen, has tears down her face and begging him.

She lost her husband because of his father. He can try and save her daughter.

He reaches out, gripping the back of Ellen’s neck, and pulls her towards him. She opens his mouth for him, kissing him back without hesitation. He bites her tongue, blood hot and salty, and she doesn’t so much as flinch, doesn’t pause, just holds Jo between them and lets Sam take.

When he pulls back, his mouth is full of blood. He leans down, pressing his lips to Jo’s, letting her mother’s blood slide between her lips and presses his hand against her chest, trying to quicken something in her that will bring her home.

She gasps under him and he pulls back. Her eyes dart around, cheeks flushed, and stutters, “What – who–”

Ellen lets out a sob and clutches Jo to her, letting out a choked litany of scolding that has Jo patting her back and making soothing noises that Sam doubts Ellen hears at all.

He sits back on his ass, rubbing a hand over his face and wondering if anyone will care if he just lays down and takes a nap. Resurrection is exhausting.

“How?” Ellen asks, looking at him with red eyes and a puffy face and so much gratitude he can barely stand it. “There’s nothing special about my blood.”

“There’s power in sacrifice,” he says, wincing at the roughness of his voice. “Not a lot. Not enough. But,” he shrugs. He’s spent a lifetime making something out of not enough.

“What did I sacrifice?” she asks. It’s curiosity, nothing more. He can tell that she doesn’t care about the answer, that it really good be anything ant it would still be a bargain well made as far as she’s concerned.

This is how apocalypses are started.

“Nothing I’m going to collect on,” he says tiredly. “But it’s not a trick that works more than once. So be careful, okay?”

That last bit he directs to Jo, who’s just staring at him with huge eyes. “You’re Sam?”

“Yeah,” he says. “How do you know who I am?”

Jo and Ellen share a look, then she says carefully, “I met your brother.”

“How is he?” he asks, almost before she’s finished speaking. “Is he – I mean,” he cuts himself off, grimacing. Sam made out with their possessed father, killed the demon, and left. It’s a real toss up about what messed him up the most. “You shouldn’t hunt on your own,” he says, switching tracks. “You need a partner, one who can show you the ropes if you’re going to keep this up. See if you can talk Dean into it. I think you two will get along.”

Jo swallows. “Uh, okay. You’re not what I expected.”

What had she expected? He’s sure the rumors about him are nothing good, if not outright setting a bounty on his head. Ellen might have been desperate enough to seek him out with Jo dead, but that doesn’t mean anything. He and Dean both ran to demons when they lost the other.

There are footsteps down the hall and he tries to muster a smile for them before he’s leaving, returning to the motel room he’d been in with Cas.

“Where did you go?” he asks.

Getting back here had taken the last bit of energy he had. He flips Cas off and collapses face first into the bed, barely managing to kick of his shoes before he falls asleep.

Dean would have taken them off for him, but Dean isn’t here.

When he wakes up twelve hours later, it’s to Cas standing above him and staring.

He groans, rolling over and away from that piercing blue gaze. “Don’t do that.”

“Where did you go?” he asks.

Sam tells him. It doesn’t take long, but his voice is still strained by the end of it.

“You heard her prayers?” Cas asks.

“No,” he says, then frowns. “I don’t know. I guess. Can I do that?”

Cas is learning human expressions one by one. Judgement had come quickly and easily.

Whatever. Apparently he can do that now.

“You said Azazel was a prince of hell,” Sam says. “Does that mean there are more of them?”

“Three,” he says warily. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Think they’d be willing to part with some blood in exchange for their lives?”

Sam’s not going to survive this. He knew that from beginning. It doesn’t really matter he has to do to himself to finish it.

There’s power in sacrifice.

“This is a terrible idea,” Cas says, which isn’t a no.

Apocalypse Never

They help Dad into the cabin, more coherent than he was when they first broke him out, and Sam heads back to the car for their bags, for the Colt, and tries not to think about how everything has gone so quickly to shit. Mom and Jessica’s killer got away, again, but they’re all alive. That’s not nothing, that’s –

The pain hits him so completely and suddenly that he has no chance to brace himself for it. Usually it builds, first prickling pain then greater, but this is something else. It feels like nails are being shoved into his skull, images coming almost too fast for him to follow. He doesn’t realize he’s screaming until it stops, until he comes to with his head in his brother’s lap, Dean’s arms pinning him down and his face white and terrified above him. “Sammy? Sammy, you’re bleeding. What’s wrong?”

His throat is too raw and tight to speak even if he wanted to. He does want to, but he can’t, he can’t say a goddamn thing.

I saved the world for you, he thinks wildly, and I didn’t even get to keep you. How fucked up is that?

He doesn’t know if his future self couldn’t send it all back any further, or if he thought that this would give Sam less time to fuck things up.

For a couple terrifying minutes, Sam had taken control of Lucifer. For a couple exhilarating minutes, Sam had the power of an archangel.

That sending the knowledge of the future back four years in the past was the best thing he could think to do with it leaves Sam with a poor opinion of the man he became. Then again, he had saved the world, so. There’s that.

He doesn’t want to think of the him that had fallen into the pit with Lucifer and Michael. He hopes he can save him by making different choices, but maybe he can’t. Alternate universes, or parallel ones, or whatever. Maybe that Sam is damned for good and the best he could do was save a different version of himself, a different version of his brother.

There’s not much point in wondering about it. He’ll never know either way.

It’s memories with no emotions, thank fuck, because just the knowledge of it all is enough to drive him to his knees, to edge him to weeping and whimpering and slitting his wrists if he lets it.

He’s not going to. He has work to do. There will be time to fall apart after, when the world is safe. When Dean is safe.

Dean after Dad had died and given him that ultimatum had been bad enough. Dean after forty years in hell had been nearly unrecognizable.

He wipes the blood from his face, ushers Dean back inside, and tries not to think too hard about what he’s about to do.

Dean figures out it’s Azazel in Dad’s body and they’re pinned to the wall and Sam waits until Azazel is hovering over him, hand next to his head as he tilts his head back and breathes over Sam’s lips. It’s a torture and a powerplay, to let the want in his eyes come out in his father’s face, to make it John’s body that’s pressed so nauseatingly close to his own.

Sam isn’t the same person he was four years ago, ten minutes ago.

Breaking out of Azazel’s hold is easy. He’s using the equivalent of a single finger to keep them down, like pinning down a butterfly, and it's only enough until it isn’t.

He grabs Azazel’s face and pulls him close, hears the beginning of his laughter before Sam seals their mouths together. He’s making a deal here, selling his soul sure as anything, just not with Azazel.

Azazel leans into it, just like Sam knew he would, shoving his tongue in Sam’s mouth and getting off at his instinctive flinch of disgust, of the way Dean’s screaming bloody murder behind him. Azazel hasn’t hurt Dean yet. Sam’s going to make sure he never will.

He bites down hard. Blood fills his mouth and he sucks on his tongue, drinking as much as he can. It doesn't tase like iron, not like it should, instead it's sweet and thick like honey. He thought Azazel would pull back now, but he’s still laughing into Sam’s mouth, even bites the inside of his cheek to add to the blood from his tongue, and he just lets Sam drink his fill. Of course, he doesn’t know what Sam knows. If Sam had done this the first time, the only thing the blood would have done would be to get him high and useless.

It means he gets more than a mouthful, that it’s long minutes of keeping his eyes closed and swallowing and trying not to think too hard about how it’s Dad’s hands on him and Dad’s hard on at his thigh and Dad’s tongue he’s sucking on. He’s already got four years’ worth of nightmares in his head. No need to add more than necessary.

His skin is buzzing, feeling stretched out over him like his body is too big for it suddenly, almost like the aches of growing pains but more electric. Azazel pulls back and licks up the side of his face, leaving blood and spit behind, and breathes into his ear, “If you missed me feeding you, boy, all you had to do was ask.”

Yeah, that’s enough of that.

He shoves Azazel back without moving his hands, hard enough that he stumbles, and he has to move fast, before he gets a smart idea like snapping Dad’s neck or bursting his heart. He raises his hand and he’d settle for an exorcism, but power is lying heavy and thick in his veins. Destroying Lilith nearly killed him and Azazel is more powerful than Lilith and the blood he drank shouldn’t be nearly enough.

But fear sparks in Azazel’s yellow eyes and he starts choking, black smoke leaking from his ears and out his mouth. “How-”

Sam doesn’t let him finish. He remembers killing Samhain, killing Alastair, killing Lilith. He knows what to do.

Azazel dies screaming. Mom and Jessica are avenged. It’s not as satisfying as he thought it’d be.

Dad is on his hands and knees, taking in deep lungfuls of air. Sam knows from experience that being possessed isn’t pleasant.

“Sammy?”

He forces himself to look over, sees his brother approaching him with hands outstretched. The fear hasn’t gone anywhere even with Azazel dead, even with Dad alive, even though he doesn’t have any of the devastating injuries he sustained last time.

He doesn’t have the emotions to go along with the memory of the first time Dean saw him drinking demon blood, but he imagines it was something like this. “I’m sorry.”

“Sammy,” Dean says again, but Dad’s getting to his feet, Dad’s looking at the Colt, and Sam can’t die yet. He still has work to do.

It’s not a conscious thought, not something he actively tries to do, it’s just one minute he’s there in a cabin with his father and brother and the next he’s in the middle of a field, the night air crisp and clear and a million stars shining above him.

He couldn’t do that before.

There’s something wrong, he thinks, because he doesn’t remember what drinking demon blood felt like, but he remembers describing it, and this isn’t right. He should be drained after that, should feel almost normal again, but instead it’s like there are bees pinging around inside him, like there’s molten lava in his veins, like he’s dying.

He’s dying, he realizes suddenly, the power threatening to eat him alive. He looks down at his arms, like he’s expecting to see them crisping up beneath moonlight, but they look normal, like skin. Of course it’s not killing him, no matter what it feels like. He’s Lucifer’s perfect vessel. There’s no power his body can’t contain, none except God’s, maybe, and it looks like he’s long past making house calls.

It won’t kill him, but it hurts like hell, and he can’t think, he needs to burn it off somehow. He’s never had this problem before, not even when he drank all that blood for Lucifer.

He’s standing in Bobby’s living room and he doesn’t understand why until he sees the body on his kitchen table wrapped in a white sheet. He doesn’t know how Bobby got rid of the paramedics, if he’s maybe holding the body for her family, but Sam thinks he knows how to get rid of some of the itching along his skin.

Sam died a lot, in those weeks he and Dean were apart. Lucifer was true to his word. Sam came back every time.

He pulls down the sheet, sees the ways Meg’s face has settled into death in the past day, how decay has started to take hold and left her blue and cold and her skin slack. He leans down, presses a kiss to her cheek, and thinks that this is the least he owes her, for what she endured because of him, for trying to help him even at the bitter end.

She gasps to life beneath him, warmth flooding her skin and air stuttering into her lungs. “Sam?” she asks, fear and confusion and a pain that’s not physical.

Maybe she won’t want to live, considering everything she’s been through, but at least now the choice is hers and not a demon’s. There are footsteps and he turns to see Bobby standing in the doorway, gun pointed to the ground and mouth open in shock. Sam doesn’t have time to worry about it, instead he’s gone, the same burning still clawing its way out of his bones.

Caleb lies slumped in the chair Meg had tied him to, throat slit and eyes empty. Sam puts his hands on his shoulders, presses his lips to his bald head, and feels the moment his heart starts beating again. He sends the ropes falling with barely a thought and he’s gone the moment he hears his first confused groan.

Pastor Jim is laid out in his home, church workers Sam vaguely recognize huddled around him in prayer, his final send off. He’s just glad he got here before they burned him. They start screaming when they see him but he leans down, internally wincing at how Jim’s going to explain his way out of this one, and kisses his forehead, a reversal of the paternal tenderness Jim had shown him as a child.

His chest rises and his eyes open and his eyebrows push together. “Sam, what-“

He doesn’t stick around to hear the end of that question, figures it’s not anything he can answer anyway.

It takes him a long moment of staring out at the snow covered peaks and too close sky and the brilliant sun hitting his face even though it was just the middle of the night for him to place himself, even though it shouldn’t be enough, but he knows where he is even though he shouldn’t.

The air’s too thin and he’s going to give himself altitude sickness if he lingers and he should probably be freezing to death but his blood is still running too hot. Not burning, not like it was before he brought three people back from the dead, but still far from comfortable.

Still. He can’t say he ever thought he’d ever get to see the view from Mt. Everest.

“Castiel,” he says. “It’s Sam Winchester. We need to talk.”

Nothing. Typical.

“I know about God’s plan, about Lucifer and Michael, about my role as his vessel. I know about you, Cas. You’re going to want to hear me out.”

There’s the rustle of wings behind him and he turns to see Cas, younger than he looked before. Jimmy Novak younger than he’d been before. He wonders about that for a moment. He’d half expected Cas to show up as a sherpa rather than nip to America for a vessel, but Cas had kept the shape of Jimmy Novak even after his physical body perished, so maybe there’s a deeper preference there than just convenience.

His face is as cold as their surroundings. “You have strayed from God’s light.”

“Yeah, well, what good has he ever done me?” he asks tiredly. He used to believe. He believed yesterday. He prayed this morning. Even when he met Cas the first time, he believed. “I can’t explain. Can you just read my mind? We don’t have time.”

His eyebrows push together, but Cas has to be curious, otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything. He steps forward and presses two fingers against Sam’s forehead. He doesn’t feel any different, but when Cas lowers his hand, he’s lost his stoicism. Shock, despair, and anger chase themselves across his feature and Sam can’t blame him.

He’s not the only who lost his faith in the future.

“You said there were thousands of seals,” he says. “How many exactly?”

His eyes snap to Sam’s. “What?”

“God loved Lucifer,” he says. “It’s why he imprisoned him rather than destroying him. It’s why he left him a way out. Maybe it’s why he set up the apocalypse in the first place. I don’t know, I don’t care. All I know is that I’m not letting him out, ever. So we’re going to destroy every seal we can.”

Some can’t be undone, like the first one, a righteous man torturing an innocent soul in hell. But there are plenty that can, hopefully enough, hopefully most. If there are less than sixty six seals available, then Lucifer is never getting out of his cage.

“There were originally ten thousand seals,” Cas answers and Sam gets lightheaded for reasons that have nothing to do with thin air. “Only two thousand and thirty four seals are still viable.”

Okay, that’s better. Not great, but better. “Let’s get that number down to sixty five.”

“You are different,” Cas says.

Of course he’s different. His father’s alive. His brother never went to hell. Sam has never known the utter desolation of being completely alone, of grief and guilt so heavy he’s surprised it didn’t break his spine as surely as Jake’s knife in his back. He doesn’t actually remember feeling it, which is no small mercy, but he saw the effects of living with it, which is almost as bed. He'd thought what he’s feeling because of Jessica is as low as he could get. It’s not even close.

He wants to dig up her bones and breathe life into them, but at almost a year dead he thinks that’s beyond even this strange new power. Even like this, he’s failing Jessica one more time.

“Got any ideas?” he asks. “It wasn’t like this before. With the blood.”

He’d drank Ruby nearly dry more than once. It had been a high and then a crash and never did it give him access to this type of power.

“Azazel is – was a prince of hell,” Cas answers.

Sam frowns. “I thought he was king?”

“He was regent,” he corrects, “but to be a prince is separate from being ruler of hell. Lucifer created Lilith from bone, as Adam and Eve were made. The princes were created from his blood. Azazel’s blood is, in a way, Lucifer’s.”

Lucifer’s blood. Sam, his vessel, drinking down Lucifer’s blood, as a baby and now. Except as a baby he’d only had a few drops. He’d consumed a lot more than that back at the cabin.

Demon blood always wore off. The few drops of Azazel’s blood he’d gotten as a baby never had. He probably should have taken that into consideration, but there hadn’t been any time.

“Lucifer is evil but he is not a demon,” Cas continues.

Sam realizes suddenly that he did have power like this once. When he locked away Lucifer inside of him and took his power for his own. It’s not the same, not even close, but it’s similar. “This is what angel blood does?”

“No,” he says. “This is what Archangel Lucifer’s blood does to his perfect vessel. I believe. This has never happened before, so I cannot be certain. You are, as always, one of kind, Sam Winchester.”

It’s not quite a compliment, but it’s not as combative as he remembers Castiel being in the beginning. He’ll take it. “Guess we’ll figure it out together, then. If you’re sticking around to help prevent the apocalypse.”

If he’s not, this is going to be more than difficult. Tracking down all the seals without an angel on his side isn’t going to be impossible, but pretty damn close. And he doesn’t know how much time he has. Hell is going to be pissed about him killing Azazel. Heaven is probably going to take notice once he starts destroying seals so they can never be opened. Not to mention, he’s definitely going to be on hunters’ radar. Even if Dad can keep his mouth shut about him drinking demon blood, which he knows better than to rely on, him bringing back people from the dead is going to spread quickly. He’s going to be hunted at all sides, just like last time.

At least last time he had Dean, even broken, even when he was broken himself. He still had his brother.

But this is the price for saving him. For making sure that Dean is never in the position to kick off the apocalypse in the first place, to make it so Lucifer never again walks the earth even if heaven and hell reincarnate him and Dean and try and start this all over again.

He’s going to be killed for it, he knows, by demons or angels or hunters. But that doesn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things.

“Yes,” Cas says. “It is better for us all if the future you saw never comes to pass. I will help you.”

He grins, clapping Cas on the shoulder, and only laughs at the glare he receives in return. They have to get out of here before the altitude makes him loopy. Maybe it already has.

He’s going to save the world for his brother and he’s not even going to get to keep him.

How fucked up is that?

#averting the apocalypse one terrible idea at a time #supernatural

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polarisjisung · 7 hours ago

Text

ꨄ YOU ARE MY ROCKSTAR

LATE NIGHTS IN THE STUDIO W/ MARK

wc: 0.7k warnings: none yet! notes: been on a mark listening streak, still think golden hour is one of my favourites | LIBRARY

The clock on the wall reads well past midnight, but really it doesn’t feel that late.

The warm hum of the recording studio surrounds you, the soft glow of the lights casting a mellow ambiance in the room. It feels cosy. All moments with Mark did, but something tonight feels especially comfortable.

Mark sits behind the mixing console, headphones perched on his head as he carefully adjusts sound levels. You don't really know what all the switches and dials in front of him mean, but you do know that they mean a lot to Mark, and that's enough for you.

He’s in his element. It's obvious from the way he narrows his eyes down in front of him. But there’s something about the way he moves that tells you he’s more focused on making the track perfect than anything else in the world right now.

You’re sprawled out on the couch across from him, with a spiderman blanket he'd placed over your lap earlier, as you watch him.

His usual cheerful, easygoing nature has shifted into a quiet, intense concentration, the mark of someone who cares deeply about their work.

It was one of the things you loved most about Mark, how much he cared, not just about his work, but about you, about everything.

Mark's loves in life were few, but his dedication to them was immense. He loved rarely, but entirely.

His brows furrow slightly as he listens to the beat, adjusting a few knobs here and there, nodding to himself in approval.

You smile to yourself, almost feeling a little self-conscious about how much you’ve been admiring him lately. You can't help it, though.

The way his hair falls over his forehead, the way his fingers move so effortlessly over the dials, the way his voice takes on a slightly deeper, more serious tone when he's in "work mode." It’s moments like these that make you fall for him all over again.

“Hey, you okay?” Mark’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, the soft crackle of his mic cutting through the air. You look up, meeting his warm gaze. His hair is an absolute mess, falling over his eyes and sticking out in all sorts of different directions— somehow Mark’s never looked better.

“Yeah, just… watching you. You’re really focused, huh?”

He grins, pushing his headphones off one ear. “Yeah, I get like this sometimes when I’m working on something that matters. You know, the kind of thing where I want everything to sound just right. But you’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?”

You chuckle, lifting a hand to rub the back of your neck, just a touch embarrassed. “Nothing, just… you. I love watching you work. You’re amazing, Mark.”

His eyes soften, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He reaches over and taps a button on the console, stopping the track. “Stop making me all shy. You know I get embarrassed when you say things like that.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a playful smirk. “But I’m glad you think that. It’s nice to have you here with me.”

In your books, that was a win, considering the number of times you'd been reminded just how much Mark hated to be disturbed during his solo studio sessions. But like most things, the rules were different for you.

You sit up, suddenly feeling a little braver, and slide off the couch, walking over to him. “Can I sit with you while you work? I promise I won’t distract you too much.”

Mark presses a soft kiss to your hand, gentle, reassuring.

“Of course,” he says, already pulling the chair next to his, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. “You’re my favorite distraction.”

taglist: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip

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causticsodaa · 2 days ago

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What I personally think is behind Suo’s eyepatch: A Delusional Theory

The title explains itself (heed the disclaimer please), so I’ll get straight to the point.

Firstly, I believe that Suo is blind in his right eye.

Typically, eyepatches are mainly worn by people who

Are recovering from surgery

Cosplay

Have eye trauma or are half-blind

The first point is immediately negated, since it’s confirmed that Suo has been wearing an eyepatch on his right eye since middle school at the earliest. I doubt that even the most extensive eye surgeries would need him to be wearing one for years on end. Most eyepatches are made out of adhesive material, whilst Suo’s is made out of leather. I won’t dwell on this point much since I don’t think this outcome is very likely, but I just wanted to bring it up anyways (lol).

The second point could be plausible, considering that Suo voluntarily draws attention to his eyepatch in his introduction, even stating that there is “an ancient Chinese spirit sealed” in it—there’s a story behind it.

However, Nirei’s question immediately disproves this. Nii Satoru is a very deliberate writer; I don’t think there would be any reason to include Nirei’s dialogue about a ‘past accident’ (more on this later) if it wasn’t meant to serve as foreshadowing or at least be somewhat true.

Theres also the fact that Suo directly agrees with Nirei’s claim, though his wording is very vague (ie. it’s what other people say rather than Suo himself confirming it).

I believe this scene is mainly meant to showcase Suo’s goofy side (backed by Nirei’s comment about expecting Suo to be more cold/aloof and with Suo introducing himself as Leonardo di Caprio); but I also assume that he decided to make up a story about his eye because he’s been questioned about it many times in the past. It’s obviously not true, but I don’t think that Suo would voluntarily wear an eyepatch for years on end just to look cool (not to mention the depth perception issues!).

It’s also important to note that Nirei’s information is scarily accurate as well. He even figured out that Suo hated natto despite how secretive the latter is, but I digress.

This leads me to the third point, which is what most of the fandom (myself included) speculates. However, I’ll be focusing more on the prospect of Suo being half-blind.

If Suo is blind in his white eye, he would have a white iris. Although many blind characters in anime/animation have their eyes closed or just lack pupils, some do have white/clear/sheen irises:

Additionally, some people who are blind do have ‘milky’ eyes in real life!

Even other animanga characters who wear eyepatches have some sort of eye trauma (if they aren’t pirates/concealing some power/forced to give their eyeball up for a contract, though WBK isn’t that kind of story) such as Hange Zoë and Asuka Langely Soryu.

Personally, I believe that Suo had injured his right eye in the past to the point of blindness, given with the evidence presented before. I can’t really provide any theories as to how this happened due to a lack of canon evidence, but it’s probably linked to why he tells Nirei to never close his eyes. It’s highly probable his right eye is linked to a traumatic incident of his past—though anything further related to Suo’s backstory prompts an entirely different conversation.

Theres also a possibility that Suo might have been born half blind as well, and uses his eyepatch to protect/cover it; though it’s merely speculation on my part (and I’ll talk about this theory more in a bit).

You’ve probably noticed that I’m drawing a lot of attention to the color of Suo’s right eye, rather the cause of his blind eye. This is where my theory gets delusional.

Let me bring in our beloved protagonist of Wind Breaker; Sakura Haruka!

Wait, isn’t this a theory about Suo? What does Sakura have to do with Suo’s eye?

Although Sakura and Suo do have their stark differences, they’re also eerily similar (and this criteria applies to Suo + Nirei and Sakura + Nirei as well). The most prominent thing they have in common [design wise] are their ‘abnormal’ eyes (with Sakura having heterochromia, and Suo with only one eye visible), and how they’re somehow linked to some sort of past trauma. I (albeit briefly) went over how Suo’s right eye connects with a potentially traumatic incident earlier, so I’ll be focusing on Sakura in the meantime.

In the beginning of the anime, we see snippets of dialogue by people from Sakura’s past, which mainly consisted of a barrage of criticism and rude remarks towards him. This line in particular stands out to me:

Japanese society is very conformative both in real life and what we see in Sakura’s memories—being unique or looking different from the norm is 🆖. We see different people in the series poke fun at Sakura’s hair, but I feel like this comment hurts the most. You can’t exactly change your eye color easily without contacts, unlike hair in which you can style/dye it as you please (though I’m not trying to justify the mistreatment Sakura has experienced by comparing apples and oranges; simply put, it’s incredibly vile).

Because of the above, Sakura has been consistently ostracized in the past mainly due to his ‘weird’ appearance. This causes him to internalize those sentiments for years on end before coming to Furin. He then begins to project his insecurities externally throughout the manga whether it relates to his leadership skills or how he interacts with the other students (initially questioning why people can accept him given his ‘strange’ appearance and mannerisms). There’s also this:

Sakura used to cover his hair and eyes with hats/sunglasses, however it failed to work as people still avoided him. This is even shown in the anime!

Poor kid took all those comments to heart and internalized it to the point it essentially crippled his self-esteem—but who wouldn’t, honestly? Being constantly alienated and perceived as ‘disgusting’ by others causes a sense of distrust to a person, especially during their developmental stages (as Sakura experienced most of this as a child/teen), hence why I’m classifying this as traumatic for Sakura. Even though he’s in a better place now, the ghosts of his past still haunt and affect him to this day.

Since Suo + Sakura are written to foil/parallel each other at times, there is a chance that Suo might have also covered his eye for a similar reason to Sakura’s: he doesn’t want other people to know he is blind (either to not be perceived as weak, or Suo was ashamed of for a different reason—perhaps other people thought his blind eye was scary?). Maybe Suo was born with a blind eye, much like how Sakura was born with a “half and half” appearance.

As I’ve mentioned before, Sakura has heterochromia (wow no shit Sherlock); his left eye is yellow, while his right is black[ish-grey] (his eye is sometimes colored a light grey/blue but thats usually a stylistic choice)

Both Sakura and Suo’s character colors are based off their left eyes: Sakura’s being an amber and Suo’s being red (rather than mainly sappanwood but its a shade of red anyways—and Suo is usually represented with a bold red in other official/merch art so shhhh)

And if we were to follow my theory, Suo would hypothetically have a milky colored right eye and a red iris for his left as in canon. Do you see where I’m going with this?

Both Sakura and Suo would have their character color as their right eye (amber and red respectively), while their left eyes (black and white) would contrast each other. Black and white are considered opposites, after all.

If my (delulu) theory holds true, this could perfectly showcase Suo and Sakura’s differences and similarities—but instead of it being almost hidden through the layers of their unspoken relationship, they are physically represented through their character designs.

Okay, I know you’re probably thinking that this theory is too far fetched (hell, even I think the same). But hear me out:

There is another duo in Wind Breaker who have character designs that contrast each other: Togame and Choji!

Nii Satoru makes it a point to emphasize how different these two are—and it’s no secret given their designs: Togame is tall, beefier, and has straight dark hair while Choji is short, lankier, with light and curlier hair. Even their eyes contrast each other; Togame’s are thin, slanted, and green while Choji’s are wide, round and red[dish brown]. (I KNOW THAT HIS EYES ARE MORE BROWN IN THE ANIME BUT THEYRE COLORED RED SOMETIMES BY NIISATO PLEASE TRUST ME ON THIS)

Honestly, this entire section makes me want analyze Choji and Togame (must… control… my demons…), so I’ll just move on to my next point.

Additionally, Sakura is sometimes drawn with his hair slicked back, which makes him look eerily similar to Umemiya…

I believe this is entirely intentional by Nii-sensei, but if I speak any more I fear that I will start rambling about Umemiya/Sakura parallels like a madman. My point is, two characters with similar/contrasting designs do already exist in WBK.

And in the case of Suo and Sakura, these two elements could possibly coexist in their character designs via their ‘irregular’ eyes.

TLDR; Suo and Sakura are the only characters in the cast with messed up eyes -> If Suo’s blind in his right eye, it would be white -> which would contrast Sakura’s black iris thats also in his right eye -> this shows their differences -> but also reinforces the fact that they are similar since their left eyes are red and amber -> which are their character colors -> I am severely delusional -> and I need to be euthanized immediately

#wind breaker #wind breaker manga #wbk #wbk theories #wbk analysis #suo hayato #hayato suo #sakura haruka #haruka sakura

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ikkyfics · 2 days ago

Note

Count Vronsky and reader's first time? Maybe night after the wedding? Please feel free to not write this if it makes you uncomfortable 🫶🏻

First Night

Alexei Vronsky x f!reader

Summary: Even now, with a ring on your finger, you still had difficulty assimilating what had happened. As if it had all been nothing more than a feverish delirium. You were a married woman now, and as such, you should fulfill your duties.

Warnings: smut, virgin!reader, piv, mdni, porn w little plot

A/N: Hi, darling - to be honest, I was excited to write this, so I really hope you enjoy it <333

Masterlist

Even now, with a ring on your finger, you still had difficulty assimilating what had happened. As if it had all been nothing more than a feverish delirium. You were a married woman now, and as such, you should fulfill your duties.

After you arrived at the house that would now be your home, Alexei had allowed you to have a moment alone. To prepare yourself. A maid had prepared a bath of hot water for you, where you remained submerged for as long as you could, as if that would be enough to rid you of your fears. Your hair was brushed and your skin perfumed, your body wrapped in a thin nightgown. You had never worn anything like this, never had you revealed so much of your skin.

The night before, your mother had spoken to you. She had held your hand and told you that there was no reason to fear, that the Count would treat you well.

“I imagine he has already kissed you,” she said, a small smile curving her lips as you nodded, your eyes fixed on the embroidery on your bed.

Alexei had kissed you before, more than once. And you had committed each one to memory. The way his mouth had moved against yours, filled with a hunger you didn’t understand. Then, when you were flushed and your lips were numb, he would pull away, his fingers gently framing your cheek, looking satisfied.

“And you liked it, didn’t you? Then I’m sure the other caresses won’t bother you. He will certainly be gentle and attentive.”

But now you regretted not having asked more questions. Anxiety knotted in your stomach. What should you expect from this night?

The knock on the door was soft, but it made your heart leap in your chest. You sat up straight in the chair in front of the mirror, your trembling fingers smoothing the fabric of the thin nightgown that felt too heavy for your skin. For a moment, the thought of asking him to wait crossed your mind, but the truth was that waiting would only prolong the torment of your own anxiety.

“Come in,” you managed to say, though your voice was barely audible.

Alexei entered the room, his heart pounding at the sight of his bride. He drank in the vision of your, clad in the sheer nightgown that clung to your curves and accentuated your skin. Your hair fell in glossy waves over your shoulders, and your eyes, though anxious, sparkled with a hint of anticipation. He felt a surge of love and desire, but also a profound tenderness and protectiveness.

He approached your slowly, his steps measured and respectful. Stopping a few feet away, he gazed at your, his blue eyes filled with adoration and a touch of nervousness. He cleared his throat softly before speaking in a low, gentle voice.

“My dear wife, you look... sublime. More beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I want to make this night perfect for you, my love. A night you'll never forget.”

Alexei extended his hand towards your, his fingers outstretched in invitation. His heart raced as he awaited your response, hoping you would trust in him, in them, in the love they shared. “Please, allow me to join you. Let us begin our new life together, as husband and wife, in every way possible.”

His words, the intensity in his voice, made your face flush. With trembling fingers, You reached out to touch his hand, feeling the heat emanating from his skin.

“Alexei,” You began, looking up into his beautiful eyes. “I want you to join me, but…”

You hesitated, lowering your eyes. Alexei had kissed you before, but this time was different. You didn’t even know what was about to happen. The mysteries of the wedding night had never been revealed to you. What if I ruined everything? Nerves knotted your stomach.

Alexei sensed your hesitation and nervousness, seeing the uncertainty in your downcast eyes and the way your fingers trembled against his palm. His heart ached with the desire to comfort and reassure your, to chase away your fears. He gently squeezed your hand, his thumb caressing your knuckles in a soothing rhythm.

In a soft, gentle voice, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “Shhh, my darling,” he murmured. “There's no need to be nervous or afraid. I know this is new and overwhelming for you, but I promise, I will be gentle. I want our first time to be a beautiful, loving experience for you.”

Alexei brought his other hand up to tenderly cup your cheek, tilting your face towards him until their eyes met once more. “We'll discover this together, step by step,” he assured your softly. “I'm here to guide and cherish you. Trust in me, and trust in the love we share.”

His blue eyes shone with sincerity and devotion as he gazed at your, awaiting your response. Alexei's heart raced with anticipation, but more than that, it raced with a desperate need to love and protect his new bride, to make this night as wonderful and unforgettable as you deserved.

His words were reassuring, though there was still a hint of nervousness lurking in the background. “I trust you, Alexei.” He was your husband, the man your trusted with your life.

You moved closer to him, feeling his warmth envelop your body, all too aware of the thin gown covering your body. Your face felt hot, but the words found their way past your lips. “Will you teach me?”

Alexei's heart swelled with love and tenderness at your soft, trusting words. He pulled your closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing your gently against his chest. He could feel the heat radiating from your body through the thin fabric of your nightgown, and it ignited a gentle warmth within him.

He gazed into your eyes, his own blue orbs filled with adoration and a deep, abiding love. “Of course, my darling,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “It would be my greatest honor and pleasure to teach you, to guide you, to love you in every way possible.”

Alexei leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered. “Tonight, I want to explore every inch of your beautiful body, to map out the curves and contours that belong only to you. I want to learn what brings you pleasure, what makes your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.”

He pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of your lower lip. “We'll take our time, my love. I'll make sure that every touch, every kiss, every moment is filled with love and devotion.”

Alexei's eyes searched yours, a silent question in their depths. “Will you let me love you? Will you trust me to be your guide?”

“Y-yes,” you said breathlessly, feeling your knees weaken at the intensity of his words. It was almost too much to bear. “Please,” you began again, your fingers wrapping around his shirt, as if pulling him closer. You needed his warmth. “I want you to teach me,” you pressed your face against his hand, closing your eyes as shame swallowed you. “I want to be yours, Alexei.”

He pulled your flush against him, his strong arms enveloping your trembling form, holding your close as if you were the most precious treasure in the world. He could feel the desperate way your fingers clutched at his shirt, and it only served to fuel his own longing to cherish and possess your completely.

With a soft, loving groan, Alexei captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His mouth moved over yours with a gentle intensity, pouring all of his love and desire into the embrace. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, asking for your permission to explore the warmth within.

As he kissed your, his hands began to roam over your body, mapping out the tantalizing curves that the thin nightgown did little to conceal. He caressed the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips, the soft, supple skin of your thighs. His touch was reverent and worshipful, a silent testament to his devotion and desire.

Breaking the kiss, Alexei trailed his lips down the column of your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin. He could feel your pulse fluttering beneath his touch, and it spurred him on, urging him to claim your, to make your his in every way possible.

You felt intoxicated by his kisses, and a strange heat was building in your belly. No, below your belly. You had never felt anything like it.

In a low, husky voice, he murmured against your skin, “You are mine. Now and forever. And I am yours, my love, my heart, my soul.”

Alexei's hands slid down to the hem of your nightgown, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric. He awaited your silent permission, your eager consent to take this next step into their new life together as husband and wife.

You looked down, feeling your heart skip a beat when you saw him with his fingers in the fragile laces of your nightgown. But you weren’t going to back down. You nodded slightly, giving him permission to undo each lace. “I want you to show me.”

When the nightgown was loose on your shoulder, it wasn’t long before the fabric slid down your body, pooling around your feet. You fought the urge to curl up, to hide. There was nothing between your body and Alexei’s gaze.

Alexei’s breath caught in his throat as the nightgown slid away, revealing the breathtaking beauty of your naked form. His eyes drank in every inch of your skin, from the elegant curve of your neck to the soft swell of your breasts, the curve of your waist and the gentle flare of your hips. You were a vision of perfection, a goddess made flesh, and he felt unworthy of your divine presence.

Slowly, reverently, Alexei's hands skimmed over your newly exposed skin, his touch gentle and worshipful. He cupped the soft weight of your breasts, marveling at their delicate shape and the way they fit perfectly in his palms. His thumbs brushed over the sensitive peaks, feeling them tighten and harden beneath his touch.

“You are so beautiful, my love,” Alexei said in a reverent tone, raising his eyes to meet yours. He took a step toward you, pushing you back until the backs of your knees met the vanity. He lifted your body, settling you there, quickly settling himself between your legs. His fingers traced invisible lines on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips as he lifted you up. The cool mirror against your back contrasted with the heat of his body. Your hands gripped his chest, feeling like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. And he was between your legs, his hips pressed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

You pressed your face against his neck, whimpering at the discomfort between your legs. “Kiss me, please, I need your kisses,” you begged, the words vibrating against his skin.

He could feel the evidence of your arousal pressing urgently against him, and it only fueled his own rapidly growing desire. With a low, possessive growl, Alexei captured your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his passion and hunger into the embrace. His tongue delved deep, stroking and caressing every inch of your mouth, tangling with yours in a sensual dance.

One hand slid up your back, tangling in your silky hair, while the other gripped your hip, pulling your flush against him. He ground his hips against yours, letting your feel the hard, thick length of his arousal through the fabric of his trousers.

Alexei trailed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, pausing to nip and suck at the sensitive skin. He could feel your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his lips.

He licked and kissed his way down to your collarbone, leaving wet kisses down to your chest, feeling your tremble beneath his touch. His mouth enveloped your breast, his tongue teasing the hard peak, hearing your moan in response.

His hand cupped your other breast, massaging it gently. He bit the tip, pulling it between his teeth until he heard your whimper. Only then did he allow himself to continue, leaving more kisses down your belly.

Alexei settled back on the vanity stool, lifting his face to admire how needy you looked, a complete mess. His fingers reached the inside of your thigh, drawing lazy half circles before moving up a little higher. He groaned at the feel of how wet your pussy was. "Is this where you need me, my love?"

You felt your entire body flush at the feel of his touch, the way his eyes seemed to devour you.

"Y-yes," you replied weakly, spreading your legs further apart without even realizing it. "I need... I need-" You couldn't continue, you couldn't put into words what you wanted. Unable to contain yourself, your hips rolled, seeking more of his touch, any sensation that would fill the void between your legs.

He watched your hips undulate, seeking his touch, craving his possession. The needy, desperate sound of your voice only served to inflame his own desire.

With a low, guttural groan, Alexei's fingers found your slick, heated center. He stroked along your folds, feeling the evidence of your arousal coating his digits. He circled your sensitive clit, teasing and tormenting your until your hips bucked and writhed against his touch.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Alexei leaned in, replacing his fingers with his mouth. He lapped at your essence, his tongue delving deep to taste your, to savor the sweet ambrosia of your desire. He suckled and flicked and teased, driving your closer to the edge of ecstasy with every stroke of his tongue.

He could feel the heat of your core, the way your body trembled and quivered with need. He knew you was close, and he was determined to push your over the precipice, to help your find the release you so desperately craved.

He looked up at your, his eyes intense as he spoke against your slick flesh. “Let go, my love. Give yourself to me, to this moment. I want to feel you come undone. Trust in me. Let me love you, all of you.”

With that, Alexei redoubled his efforts, his tongue and lips and fingers working in tandem to drive your to the heights of ecstasy. He could feel your body tensing, your muscles tightening, and he knew you was on the cusp of something extraordinary.

Your fingers wrapped around the soft curls of his hair, moaning as you felt yourself coming undone. "Alexei," you repeated his name over and over.

Your eyes fixed on his face between your legs, on the way his hands held you open. Exposed.

"Alexei, I'm... I'm going to... God."

Your eyes closed as you felt that strand snap. Eliciting a louder moan from your, leaving your euphoric, in ecstasy. Completely lost in pleasure.

Alexei felt you body stiffen and then shudder as your climax washed over your. The sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer, like a plea, only heightened his own desire.

He could feel the heat of your essence flooding his mouth as he worked your through your orgasm, his tongue gentling as he helped your ride out the waves of pleasure.

As your body went limp, Alexei gentled his touch, placing soft kisses on your sensitive flesh as he slowly withdrew. He looked up at your through hooded eyes, taking in the sight of your lost in the throes of ecstasy, your face flushed and your hair disheveled, a look of pure bliss on your face.

With a low, possessive growl, Alexei surged up her body, capturing your lips in a kiss. He could taste himself on your, the musky essence of your arousal mingling with the sweetness of your own mouth. It only fueled his desire, his need to be inside your.

He wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your up onto the vanity so they could walk across the room together. Gently, he laid your down on the bed, pausing to remove his own clothes. It bobbed against his belly, hard and thick and ready.

He was quick to climb on top of your body, growling as he felt his cock poke at your pussy. He needed to control himself, you was still a virgin. Alexei needed to be careful.

You moaned, too sensitive to any touch from him. Your arms wrapped around him, enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours. The way he wrapped you around him. It was like you were on cloud nine.

Hesitantly, you lowered your hand, your fingers wrapping around him, feeling the weight and the way he pulsed. And the way Alexei moaned encouraged you to continue your exploratory touch. In shock, you realized that you wanted him inside you.

Alexei shuddered as you small hand wrapped around his throbbing length, your gentle touch sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He groaned into their kiss, his hips flexing instinctively as he thrust into your hand, seeking more of that exquisite sensation. The feel of your slender fingers exploring his thick, pulsing cock only served to inflame his desire.

Breaking the kiss, Alexei looked down at your with lust-darkened eyes, his voice a low, husky rasp. “You feel what you do to me, my love?” he murmured, his hips rolling slowly, his hard length sliding through your soft palm. “You feel how much I need you, how desperate I am to be inside you?”

Alexei's hand covered yours, guiding it to stroke him with more purpose, more pressure. He groaned at the feel of your slender fingers tightening around him, at the way your thumb brushed over the sensitive head of his cock. His other hand slid up your side, cupping the soft weight of your breast, his fingers plucking at the hardened peak.

Alexei's eyes searched yours, a silent question in their depths. “Are you ready for me, my love?” he asked softly, his voice rough with desire. “Ready to feel me inside you, filling you, loving you?” He nudged his cock head against your slick entrance, feeling your heat, your softness.

You reacted to his words, feeling your body shiver in anticipation.

Your eyes didn’t leave his, whimpering at the feel of his cock pressed against your slick slit.

“Yes," you sighed, "yes, please, Alexei,” you begged, the words slipping from your lips.

With a low, possessive growl, he captured your lips in a kiss, pouring all of his love and desire into the embrace. At the same time, he slowly, gently pushed forward, feeling your slick, tight heat enveloping the sensitive head of his cock.

He broke the kiss to gaze into your eyes, his own blue orbs blazing with passion and tenderness. “You feel so good, my love,” he rasped, his voice rough with emotion. “So tight, so perfect.” He pushed a little deeper, gritting his teeth at the exquisite sensation of your body yielding to his.

Alexei's hand slid down to your hip, gripping it gently as he slowly, carefully began to ease himself into your. He could feel every inch of your silky walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper, welcoming him home. It took every ounce of his control not to surge forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

He captured your lips again, swallowing your soft gasps and whimpers as he slowly, steadily pushed forward until he felt a barrier. Alexei paused, his heart hammering in his chest. “This might hurt for a moment, my darling,” he murmured against your lips. “But I promise, it will only be for a moment. And then, my love, it will only bring us closer, bind us tighter.”

With a final, gentle push, Alexei broke through your maidenhead. He stilled, letting your adjust to the new sensation, the new feeling of fullness. He peppered your face with soft kisses, murmuring words of love and devotion against your skin.

Tears welled up in your eyes. He was too big, it was like you were being ripped apart.

Alexei's heart ached at the sight of you tears, the way your hips instinctively tried to pull away from the unfamiliar, almost painful sensation of his thick length stretching your untouched walls.

He gazed into your eyes, his own filled with love and understanding. “Shhh, my darling,” he murmured softly, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “I know it hurts, and I'm so sorry. But it will pass, I promise you.” He kissed your softly, tenderly, his lips moving over yours with a gentleness that belied the passion burning within him.

You gritted your teeth, allowing him to soothe you with his gentle kisses and sweet words, your fingers curling under his biceps, letting out some of what you were feeling. It still hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. “Can you…” You began, your voice small, searching his gaze.

At your hesitant question, Alexei's heart swelled with love and devotion. “Yes, my love,” he said softly, his voice low and intimate. “I can go slow, as slow as you need me to. We'll take this at your pace, and I'll make sure you feel nothing but pleasure.” He nuzzled your neck, pressing soft kisses to your racing pulse. “Just tell me what you need. I'm here for you, always.”

Alexei's hands slid down to cup your rear, gently kneading the soft flesh as he slowly, carefully began to move within your, his strokes shallow and deliberate.You felt your heart warm at his words, the way he prioritized you. It helped make the pain more bearable. And you trusted him, God, you really did trust him.

A moan of pain escaped your lips when he moved. And then you moaned for an entirely different reason.

You felt something tighten inside you, making you want more. Need more."A-Alexei, I-" You began, your voice cracking as he hit a part of you that made you shiver. You fell back into the pillow, whimpering, "M-more, I need... oh," you moaned again as he hit that same spot.

The way you arched into him, your back bowing off the bed, your nails digging into his biceps, spurred him on. He could feel the tight, velvet heat of your sheath clenching around him, drawing him in deeper with every thrust.

He groaned softly as you pleaded for more, her voice breaking on a moan that sent shivers down his spine. Determined to give your the pleasure you craved, Alexei began to thrust with more purpose, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that had him hitting that sensitive spot inside your with each drive forward.

Alexei leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he loved your with his body. His hand slid between their sweat-slicked bodies to find your pearl, his fingers circling and stroking the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his pistoning length. Knowing you was close, Alexei doubled his efforts, his voice a low, urgent rasp against your lips. “That's it, my love,” he encouraged your, his breath hot and ragged. “Let go. I want to feel you come undone around me, want to hear you scream my name as you find your pleasure.”

He could tell you was on the very precipice of a shattering climax, and he was determined to help your fly over that edge into pure, unadulterated bliss.

His fingers circled your sensitive pearl with more urgency, stroking and rubbing the swollen nub as he drove into your, his hips setting a relentless pace. Alexei could feel his own release swiftly approaching, but he was focused solely on you, on bringing your to a peak of ecstasy before he allowed himself to let go.

He captured your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste your, to feel yourr respond to his passion. His other hand slid up to cup your breast, his fingers plucking and rolling the hardened peak, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.Alexei broke the kiss to blazing into your eyes, his voice a low, commanding growl.

“Come for me,” he rasped, his voice rough with desire. “Give yourself to me, now and forever.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Alexei drove deep into your welcoming heat, his length pulsing and throbbing as he felt your walls clamp down around him like a vice. He threw his head back, a guttural groan of pure male satisfaction tearing from his throat as he found his own release, his seed spurting forth to mark your, to claim your as his own.

Your walls clamping down around him like a velvet vise as you found your own shattering climax. The sound of his name falling from your lips in a scream of pure ecstasy was the most erotic, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It spurred him on, urging him to drive into your with a newfound urgency, to prolong your pleasure and push your to new heights.

He could feel your body going limp beneath him, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Alexei gentled his touch, his hands sliding over your sweat-slicked skin with a tenderness that belied the passion still burning within him. He pressed soft kisses to your face, your neck, your shoulders, murmuring words of love and devotion against your skin.

Slowly, carefully, Alexei rolled to the side, taking you with him so you was draped over his chest. He tucked your head under his chin, his arms wrapping around you in a protective, possessive hold. His fingers stroked over your hair, through your sweat-dampened curls, as he let your catch your breath.

Alexei's heart swelled with a love so profound, so all-encompassing, that it took his breath away. Making love to you had been a revelation, a confirmation of the deep, abiding bond between them. He knew, without a doubt, that he would spend the rest of his life loving your, cherishing your, and protecting your.He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his voice a low, reverent murmur.

“That was incredible, my love,” he said softly, his heart full to bursting with emotion. “You were incredible. I love you so much. Today, tomorrow, and for all the days to come. You are mine, and I am yours, now and forever.” Alexei's arms tightened around your, holding your close as he savored the feel of your soft, warm body against his. In that moment, he knew he was the happiest, the most contented man alive.

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ddongtsan · 2 days ago

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You saying your hands are cold - BOYNEXTDOOR

Ot6 x gender neutral.reader

Note: All of this is just my opinion, so if you don't like/agree with it, that's okay, everyone has their own way of thinking.

Warning: Relationship established (all members), fluff.

Sungho

Sungho looks at your hand with a gentle smile, but quickly notices how cold it is.

"Wow, really cold, huh?" He takes your hand gently, pulling it closer to himself.

"I can try to warm it up if you want…"

He rubs the palms of his hands softly, trying to heat your hands with more intensity.

"You know, I’m good at this. I’ll get you nice and warm."

Winks as if it’s a joke, but his touch is firm, and he doesn’t seem eager to let go.

"I think it’s warmed up a bit, but I’ll give you some extra attention, just to make sure."

Riwoo

He looks at you for a second with a sly smile.

"Cold, huh? Hmm…"

Lee takes your hand, placing it against his chest, where the warmth of his body is immediate.

"See? I’m practically a walking heater."

He starts rubbing your hands gently, but he can’t hide his proud grin at being helpful.

"Now, if this isn’t enough, I guess you’ll have to convince me to warm you up another way. I’ll accept payment in hugs, just so you know."

He chuckles, but his touch stays firm, as if he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

Jaehyun

Myungjae doesn’t answer right away but takes your hand slowly, analyzing every detail as though he’s thinking about something deeper.

"Ah, it’s really cold..." He brings your hand close to his own face, blowing on it playfully with a teasing smile.

"Think that’ll help? Or were you expecting something more dramatic?"

He tilts his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement, but his grip is firm and the warmth of his hands says otherwise.

"Now you’ve got no excuse to pull away. I’m holding onto this until I’m sure it’s warmed up."

Taesan

Dongmin looks at you with an arched eyebrow, a playful smirk on his face.

"Really cold? Let me see."

He grabs your hand, but the way he runs his thumb across your skin makes the simple gesture feel much more intimate.

"You know, this seems like more of an excuse to hold my hand than anything else." He laughs quietly but doesn’t let go.

"Not that I mind, of course. Just let me know when the other hand gets cold too, okay? I won’t complain."

His voice is a little lower, almost suggesting more than he’s saying.

Leehan

At first, Donghyun acts like he didn’t hear you, but then he suddenly grabs your hand between his with a grip that makes you catch your breath for a moment.

"Huh, really cold, huh? You always seem to find a way to get close to me."

He flashes a sideways grin, biting his lip lightly, but the intensity in his eyes says something more.

Rubs your hands slowly, almost on purpose.

"If it doesn’t work, let me know and I’ll find other ways to warm you up."

His voice is deep, but the smile never leaves his face, leaving you completely speechless.

Woonhak

Woonagi barely lets you finish speaking before grabbing your hand with both of his.

"Give it here, I won’t let you stay cold!"

His hands are warm and soft, and he even blows gently on your hand as if that might help.

And his smile is so sincere that it feels warmer than the actual touch.

"See, it's already working, right? It’s getting warmer, huh?"

He keeps holding your hand even when it’s clear the cold is gone.

"I think now you can’t let go, just to make sure."

#gih's writes #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #bnd x reader #sungho #myung jaehyun #riwoo #taesan #leehan #woonhak

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mythelixir · 2 days ago

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Right now, who are you, what do you need to hear from your future self and your inner child? Pile - 1

Pile - 2

Pile - 3

Pile - 1

Knight of Wands - reversed

King of Swords - reversed

2 of cups - reversed

Ace of Swords

Aura colour – orange/purple

What’s your vibe?

Well, to be put simply, you are reckless. You’re someone who is driven by adrenaline, never allowing anything to stop you. To you, the world is a small place, and everything is simple. But all these are carefully crafted façades. You, in reality, are restless and fearful. You fear that the time given to you is too short and you might die tomorrow, you live in that fear. So you do everything now. YOLO right? So, you lack self-discipline in the excuse that it only cripples your adventure. But to a heavy contrast, you feel for the people you love, so deeply that you protect them with the life that you so fear losing. You are an idiotic fool that everyone loves but fears you aren’t in your right mind more than half of their time.

You are someone who is gifted with the power of intellect along with victory. Doesn’t mean you’re favoured that way, it's just that the hardships you face, you always find a way to get out of, with triumph at that. Hence, you give off confidence in your walk and talk. I just saw a lioness. While lions are signs of reign and power, they are also known for laziness. But lionesses? They are the symbol of elegance and royalty. While some things confuse you, you don’t get stuck in it for long. You understand the problem and solve it quickly, you’re very action oriented. So, when people see you, they see someone reliable, someone they know can handle shit on their own. In others' eyes, you are that bitch that they fear.

You give off major Aquarius/Sagittarius vibes.

Messages from your future self:

I know you’re tempted to just use others around you, and step over their efforts to get to your destination, but please, don’t do it. You’re only damaging yourself in the process. Telling yourself, “One last time” before doing it? No, you're going to do it again, trust me. It will be like an addiction, even when you know you should stop, you won’t. You can't. Trust me. I know being this Ice Princess is a tempting imagery right now but that ice that is meant to pierce others? It will only impale you. Power-hungry jackals, you hate them right? Then why are you seeking to become one? Write down your feelings instead, so when you read them back, you’ll understand why you’d stopped yourself. Love yourself a little. Show yourself some peace. You need it.

Message from your inner child:

So you fear touch because you were never hugged, lulled to sleep or comforted when you cried as a child? No open communication, only screaming matches? Always being said, “You’re younger, you don't know the world. Just do as I say”. Unrealistic expectations that you were never able to meet? Well, when you were younger you might’ve, but as you got older, shit just didn’t make any sense. You wanted to rebel all of a sudden, but even when you did, you were brushed off as “immature”?

But now, it’s time to change the narrative. Start small—acknowledge your pain and let yourself grieve the affection and understanding you missed. Surround yourself with people who make you feel safe and loved, and learn to set boundaries with those who don’t. Explore self-soothing practices like journaling, meditation, or holding a soft object when you feel overwhelmed. Teach yourself that touch can feel safe again—start with something gentle, like hugging a pet, or even placing a hand over your heart to remind yourself you’re here. Speak kindly to yourself; replace harsh inner voices with affirmations like, “I am enough,” or “I deserve love.” Engage in therapy or support groups to unlearn the lies you were told and create space for your true self to grow. Healing begins when you nurture the love and care within you that was always waiting to be found.

Pile - 2

The Empress – reversed

Queen of Cups – reversed

The Hierophant

2 of wands

Aura colour – white/red

What’s your vibe?

You are controlling and manipulative, but that stems from lack of self-worth and constantly neglecting your needs. You simply cannot control yourself so you rectify that problem by controlling the people around you, that can either drive them away or to you. You might be the sole earner/breadwinner of your family, this power trip might be the reason for your behaviour. The cards also strongly suggest the presence of a woman/ feminine energy had negatively impacted previously in your life, which now has shaped you to be sceptical to women, this also might result to you being called “pick-me”. But no, you are just comfortable around men. This kind of treatment also makes you incredibly bonded with nature and also, food. You love treating the people you love with food and also, when you are depressed, you need rain/ rain sounds + lots of tasty food.

You also suffer from emotional imbalance/ low EQ. Insecurity, emotional insecurity and self-neglect are themes that you see yourself falling into. This leads to lack of empathy, distrust and animosity towards people that are nice just for the hell of it. You either loathe it because you think they’re being fake or you just hate them for being something you cannot. You also think emotional detachment is the way to go. You give off tsundere vibes.

Major Taurus/ all water sign vibes.

Messages from your future self:

You lack a belief system and you know that ruins you. The nights when you feel no one is there for you, no one can hear your wailing cries, you fail to get back up because of it. Because you have nothing to believe in. That breaks you from the inside. If people fail you and you hate the idea of following a religion, then imagine you future, where you see yourself. Where you succeed, where you are loved by everyone and work towards achieving that, when you do that, you have something to live for. A silver lining in the darkest of clouds. And, there is nothing wrong with being conventional/traditional. People stick with olden ways because they’re proven to work. So you do you!

I kept hearing “Too sad to cry” by Sasha Sloan when I was writing this, give it a listen but keep a box of tissues with you.

Message from your inner child:

I know you probably fear large bodies of water—it’s okay. Something must have happened back then, something that made the water feel less like a friend and more like a threat. You’ve learned to cope, though. You keep a support system nearby, like friends or a lifeguard, or rely on floaties to keep you afloat. But that fear also made you fall in love with the warmth of summer and spring, where the sun feels like a hug and you don’t have to face the uncertainty of deep waters.

You’ve always been the one who plans, the one who maps out their path because people around you (your parents/uncles/aunts) seemed to have glided through life, never planning anything and you’ve seen things go wrong because of it. And that because of that, your anxiety made you an avid planner.

But guess what? That’s your strength. You hold the world in your palm, ready to shape it your way, one thoughtful step at a time. I see you. I’m proud of you. Keep going.

Pile - 3

Ten of wands – reversed

King of Cups – reversed

9 of wands

3 of pentacles – reversed

Aura colour – gold/black/blue

What’s your vibe?

You’re the people that appear in those movies with truck load of books in their hands and fall over, stumbling out of balance. You take on too much, be it work, responsibility. You’re nothing short of a pressure cooker now, ready to burst any second. I got this image from this movie called “The 3 idiots” where they heads swell up like a balloon and burst due to an overload of information. It is supposed to be funny, until its not.

I feel like now, you’re trying to let go of certain things, delegating some tasks, freeing yourself. You’re setting clear boundaries, prioritising tasks and overall, gaining a better understanding of your situation as a whole. Teamwork is a part of your stress and you are starting to realise that/ you’ve already recognised that as your problem.

The cards also point to a lack of maturity and the need to withdraw from emotional situations rather than facing them head on. You may be emotionally detached, avoiding expressing your feelings openly and also create walls when going into a relationship. You may also have a sharp tongue or make decisions hastily/in the heat of the moment. You might have unhealthy coping mechanisms, when I see you I see a person with dark cirles/ eye bags/ bitten nails.

Major water/fire sign vibes.

Messages from your future self:

You are so fucking strong and resilient. Believe in that. You are someone who doesn’t ever give up because you see other people doing shit and think “Well, bitch, I can too”. That is you. But also please, proceed with caution. Stop once in a while to take a breather, because even the strongest I people need rest to succeed in battle. You are someone who has gone through and will go through so much shit but the will to live, never once faded. You have this strength in you to just, go on.

I don’t know why but when I saw this I got remembered of this one meme from arcane, where this dude’s shirt says “I survived act III, but at what cost”.

I heard “Sign of the Times” from Harry Styles just now. Wow. Well, that might be a good or a bad thing, only you will know.

Message from your inner child:

I see your fear of masculine energy, and I understand—it might stem from times when that energy felt overwhelming, controlling, or unsafe. You’ve built walls to protect yourself, and that’s okay; they were necessary once. But now, those walls can come down, slowly and on your terms. Not all masculine energy is harmful—some of it is steady, nurturing, and protective. Let yourself explore it gently, whether in others or within yourself. As for stagnation, it’s not a failure; it’s a pause, a moment to reflect and gather strength. You’re not stuck—you’re resting, preparing to move forward when you’re ready. Give yourself permission to heal, to trust, and to grow at your own pace. There’s no rush, no timeline you must follow. I see your strength, even when you don’t. I’m here, rooting for you, every step of the way. You’re safe now.

#tarot #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a picture #pac

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cellythefloshie · 21 hours ago

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;; Locked In by cellythefloshie

Summary: When the NHL season is abruptly halted by a global pandemic, and you find yourself sharing your tiny apartment with your brother's rookie teammate, Quinn Hughes. Kinks & TW: Tanev Sister Reader, Forced Proximity, Secret Hook-up/Romance, 2019-2020 Season, Covid-19 Lockdown, Hints of Mild Dominance from Quinn, Mild Alcohol Consumption, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, A Little Angsty (unresolved). Word Count: 4k+ A/N: I hadn't planned to post anything in January. I was just going to post my Best of 2024 and be done until February. BUT then I decided I wanted to challenge myself a little. I wanted to write for a player I thought I would never write for. AND then I was writing for a time I never thought I would write before because, of course, his rookie season had to be during the pandemic. Please be gentle with me. I took a lot of creative liberties here, but I hope you all enjoy.

“Why does he have to stay here?”

The tension in your shoulders grew as you glared up at your brother Chris. If your words hadn’t been clear enough in telling him just how displeased you were with his proposition, your body language would have to help get the point across.

“It’s just for a few days until they get everything figured out,” Chris replied, brushing off your annoyance with a casual shrug with an ease that left a bad taste in your mouth—and it really shouldn’t have. As your big brother, he had years of practice in the art of convincing you to do things you didn’t want to do.

Sighing, you passed Chris and at the player your brother was hoping you’d welcome into the small one-bedroom apartment you called home. Quinn Hughes, the team's rookie defenseman. Tall, and handsome, you had done your best to keep your distance from him when you had met once before—knowing yourself too well to trust that you would behave around a guy like him.

He was shy back then and seemed just as timid as he stood awkwardly in the hallway, pretending not to hear the conversation you were having with Chris. Quinn kept his head down, his warm brown eyes locked on the floor like a sad, pound puppy that nobody wanted, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his team branded hoodie.

Forcing a smile, your gaze focused back up on your brother, and his toothy grin that was always just enough to convince you.

“It’s bad enough that there’s some illness going around that’s so serious that they halted the season and the world feels like it’s ending,” you began, “but now you’re locking me in my apartment with the team’s rookie?”

“I can hear you, you know?” Quinn spoke up from the hallways, his gaze raising from the floor for the first time since he had arrived.

Your heart beat hastened, and it pounded so strongly you could feel it against the delicate flesh of your throat. It raced so quickly; you thought it might burst through your chest as a wave of heated embarrassment washed over you.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you tried to play it cool, but if Quinn had reached out and felt just how sweaty your hands had become, he would know just how much of a facade it was. “Why can’t he stay with you?” You cocked your head as you brought your arms up to cross over your chest, begging him to get to the point he was trying to make.

“The kids’ daycare is closed. Mom’s flying in before things get worse–but he’s my responsibility since we already got Petey home to Sweden and they don’t want any of the guy alone for-” Chris cut himself off, as if there was more to say but he didn’t want you to hear it. You hung on his words for a moment, ready to question him on it, but you didn’t. You knew better than to question your big brother.

“Does mom think it’s a good idea to stick me in an apartment with him?” You challenged him in a last ditch effort to try to get out of the familial obligation of helping out your brother when he needed it.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” His smile grew wider as he placed Quinn’s bag down on the floor just inside the door.

“You know,” you sighed, leaning against your door, giving Quinn just enough room to come inside, “instead of flying mom home, Quinn could have helped with the kids.” It was your final, half-serious attempt to escape the arrangement, but it only made your brother laugh.

“Thanks, Sis,” he said simply, ignoring your every attempt to say no before he was gone, leaving you and Quinn alone in your apartment.

You lingered by the door for a moment, your head resting against the surface as you let out a steady breath. Maybe if Chris had given you a heads up, you might have felt differently about the entire situation, but your place was in no condition for a houseguest. Dishes had piled up in the sink, your laundry was half folded on the couch, and you were in the middle of rewatching your favorite television series on Netflix as a way to avoid the hell that was going on in the world. And Quinn, he was just going to have to accept all of it.

But only for a few days.

With a sigh, you pushed back from the door and forced a smile. “Sorry about the mess,” you told him as you moved to the couch and gathered armfuls of clothes. “You can set yourself up on the couch. Put on anything you like. I’ll get this all out of the way.”

“Do you need a hand?” Quinn offered, and you almost flinched. You hadn’t expected him to be so nice.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assured, carrying the clothes into your bedroom before throwing them onto your bed. You would deal with them later. First, you would have to deal with Quinn.

Leaving your room, you shut the door firmly behind you. “That’s my room,” you gestured to the closed door, “it’s off limits to you unless stated otherwise. Obviously, you’re in the living room, which also happens to be the kitchen and the dining room. And through there is the bathroom, and if you can manage all of that without getting lost, tomorrow I can show you where the laundry room is down the hall.”

It wasn’t much of a tour, but the apartment was small. Surely if Quinn needed anything, he would figure it out—and you wanted nothing more than to retreat and hide away from the awkward situation your brother had forced you into. Maybe it made you seem harsh—or maybe it didn’t, because Quinn met your words with a soft smile and a quiet thanks before he settled in on the sofa, making himself at home.

“If you need anything,” you started softly, your words becoming heavy with a sigh, “just knock.”

Slowly, you slipped away into the sanctuary of your bedroom, your lips moving in a whisper of a prayer as you began to put your laundry into its place. “It’s only for a few days…”

Days turned into weeks. And as the world’s condition only seemed to worsen, necessity foiled your determination to keep Quinn at arm’s length. You could only take so much solitude in your room before the silence became unbearable. While you had movies on your laptop and video chats with your friends to keep you entertained, you needed real human contact to keep yourself from insanity. Slowly, you began to share meals together, and small talk that slowly grew beyond hockey and the relationship you had with your brothers Chris and Brandon. And to your surprise, he wasn’t the worst house guest. Quinn was self-sufficient, considerate, and–while you would never admit it to Chris–the only person keeping you from losing your mind.

“Do you maybe want to watch a movie together, or something?” you asked him one night after dinner, your tone as casual as you could muster.

Quinn’s attention snapped to you, shifting from his phone that lit up the surprise that overtook his features. “Yeah, sure. I can set it up. Anything you want to watch?”

You shrugged as you tucked the last of the clean dishes away. “Just put on whatever. I’ll pop some popcorn.”

Settling on the couch minutes later, you place the bowl of popcorn in the space between you. As the movie played, the distance between you and Quinn seemed to shrink with each handful. You felt the warmth of his body radiating from him, and the softness of his hands as they collided with yours on the hunt for just another handful of popcorn. It was a subtle, but unignorable touch that made your pulse quicken.

Biting down on your lower lip, you brought your hands back to rest on your lap, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. Quinn was focused on the movie, his sharp jawline tense as he enjoyed the last handful of popcorn. His eyes didn’t hold the heavy sadness they had when he had arrived at your apartment weeks ago, but seemed to have a hint of a smile in them as he laughed at one of the jokes as it played out on screen.

You smiled softly to yourself.

You liked his laugh, and maybe it was just the weeks of isolation consuming you, but… he wasn’t bad company at all.

“What?” Quinn’s question sent a nervous jolt through you. He had caught you looking.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, trying to play it cool.

The couch shifted as Quinn turned his body away from the movie, giving his attention to you as he relaxed back against the arm of the couch. “Tell me.”

For a moment, you thought about ignoring him. That the two of you could ignore what had just happened and just get lost in the movie until the crack in your hardened facade was forgotten. But his stare left you giddy, and there was no hiding the smile that began to blossom over your features.

“You’re not a bad guy to have around, Hughes,” you finally admitted, “and I’m glad you’re here.”

A smile, genuine smile spread across his face as he reached up to push his thick brunette hair from his eyes, “your brother thought it would be best for you–”

Your brows furrowed, your question leaving your lips in a firm question before he could continue, “I’m sorry, what?” “He didn’t want you to be alone during all of this,” Quinn explained, his voice soft and sheepish, as if he knew he shouldn’t have been telling you anything.

You leaned back against the opposite arm of the couch, your legs coming up to spread across the cushions and dragging along his leg slowly, accidentally, until you were comfortable there. “That lying bastard,” you laughed in disbelief, “he told me you being here was for your sake!”

Quinn’s laughter joined yours, warm and contagious as it created a symphony with yours. “We’ll have to give him hell for it later… but it hasn’t been all that bad, has it?”

You shook your head slowly, a silent admission that the weeks you had spent together in forced proximity weren’t all that bad. Standing up, you moved to the fridge, finding two tall beer bottles in the back. You carried one in each hand back to the couch, offering one to him as you stood just behind him, your body leaning against the back of the couch.

“I can think of maybe two people I’d rather be stuck here with,” you joked lightly.

“Ouch,” Quinn teased as he twisted off the cap and took a long, satisfying sip.

“Don’t lie,” you told him. “I know you’d rather be at home with your brothers.”

“My brothers aren’t as easy on the eyes as you are,” Quinn said quickly, without hesitation. But then his face flooded with color, and his eyes went wide. Just as quickly as his words had been said, Quinn had realized they had not just been the thoughts reserved for his head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just say that, okay?”

You raised your brow, challenging him with a smile as you asked, “What would be the fun in that?”

Quinn’s smile grew.

Your brother had thrown you both into this situation. You, his sister, cooped up with him, the team’s rookie defenceman, during a global pandemic that left you both isolated and alone. What Chris had expected to happen? You didn’t know. But it was only a matter of time before the lines you had created became blurred.

After a long, satisfying sip of beer to boost your confidence, you leaned forward and placed it down on the coffee table. Licking your lips slowly, you hesitated, your mind screaming no, but your body telling you yes, as you climbed into Quinn’s lap slowly. You seated yourself there, his lap between your thighs as you straddled him. His eyes shot wide, a quiet cough choking him as he forced back a sip of beer and silently handed the cold bottle to you.

Leaning back carefully, you place it down next to yours, Quinn’s hands reaching out to grip carefully at your thighs to keep you from falling back. He anchored you there, in his lap, as you settled back into place carefully, your body arching further into his, stealing more and more of his space until you were a breath away from his lips. A small smile blossomed over your lips slowly, your body consumed with the giddiness of what you were about to do. Your brother would kill you for this, or Quinn, but you didn’t care. It made it all the more exciting to lean in and kiss him.

There was a moment of hesitancy in the careful kiss of Quinn’s lips as they welcomed yours. His kiss was slow, and curious as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. Your touch was a feather light fleeting touch that quickly found its way into the thick wisps of his hair as his kiss deepened with desperation.

He kissed you like you were a glass of water, and he hadn’t had a sip in weeks. His tongue stroked your lips slowly before parting them, and you could taste the beer on his tongue as you welcomed it into your mouth. The sweet contact unleashed a hum that caused through Quinn’s body in a subtle vibration that could feel between your thighs. And suddenly, your entire body was weak, like gelatin, and craving more than just the kiss of his lips.

“Quinn,” you whined against his lips, your hips moving in slow rotations over his lap, grinding your core against his cock that you hoped to coax into an erection.

“Fuck,” he groaned, breaking the kiss for the first time as he threw his head back. Quinn’s touch left where he held you firmly at the back of your thighs, dragging upwards until they settled on your hips and encouraged your every movement.

You watched as his face melted into a soft expression that you couldn’t quite place, his mouth agape and his eyes shut as he focused on the very feeling of you. And between your legs, you could feel the stiffness of his cock, hard and ready. Reaching down, your fingers fumbled to work him free of his pants, but the quick lurch of his one hand captured both of yours in his hold.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide in shock as he guided your hands to the waistband of your pants carefully.

“Take those off,” he told you, his words firm and far from a suggestion, “and go to your room.”

Holy fuck. You had never been someone who liked to be told what to do, but in that moment, Quinn could have told you to do anything and you would have done it.

Standing slowly, you stood between his knees as she remained seated on the couch. Your eyes fixated on his features, worried that if you had let them wander down out of curiosity, you might moan. As you held your breath, your hands pushed down at the waist of your pants, you pushed them down—and your panties went with them.

They remained in a heap on the floor, your toes tripping over them slightly as you began the agonizing walk to the bedroom. With every stride you could feel your own wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs, your core begging to be filled. And as you got to your bedroom, you froze, your legs pressed firm together as you waited. His footsteps didn’t fill the silence. Quinn wasn’t following you.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your flesh suddenly red hut and sent a shimmer with a sheen of sweat. Quinn was still in the living room, his thoughts entirely his own as you waited, near panicked, for him to join you.

Standing with your back to the door, your eyes shut as you took deep breaths in an attempt to remain calm. Maybe you had been too forward. He wasn’t interested—or maybe he wasn’t as reckless as you and wasn’t ready to throw away a good relationship with his teammate by fucking his teammate’s sister.

“Fuck,” you cursed to yourself, ready to accept the mistake you had just made.

Reaching for your blanket, you had intended to wrap it around your waist and retreat back into the living room with an apology, but when you turned around, Quinn was standing in your doorway.

His steps were slow as he entered your bedroom for the first time since he had arrived two weeks prior. Quinn wasted no time getting familiar with his surroundings. He only had eyes for you as he met you where you stood frozen at the foot of your bed. Quinn’s arms wrapped around you in a careful bear-hug, drawing your body flush with his as his lips found yours in a kiss that reassured you that your advances had been welcome.

You moaned against his lips as he lay you out on your bed with an effortless strength and splayed your legs open wide. Quinn could have settled himself in between them, but instead, he lay down at your side, your one leg propped up against him. He stroked at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh slowly as he kissed you. His touch moved up only an inch at a time, teasing you as he encroached on the apex of your thighs. He left your body shuddering with anticipation, his hand hovering over your eagerness but void of his touch when you knew he was so close to where you wanted him.

“Please don’t make me beg,” you muttered against his lips.

It had been weeks since you had anyone touch you, and when he had become your unexpected house guest, he was the last person you thought you would welcome into your bed. But now that you had him there, you wanted all of him, or as much of himself as he was willing to give you.

First, you felt him smile against your lips, a hum of a laugh coursing through him, and then you felt his fingers on your clit.

Your teeth grit in a satisfied hiss, your hips raising to meet his touch with an eagerness that was out of your control. Your heels dug down into the bed, your hips rolling into every careful circular stroke he made before his fingers dipped down, feeling the slick of your arousal and plunged into your core.

“Quinn,” you gasped out, your hips dropping into a downward angle to welcome his fingers into your core.

His middle and ring finger worked you in quick thrusts that left your mind dizzy and your movements purely instinctive as you anchored yourself to your bed with the grasp of your hand and bucked your hips up into his hand just to feel more of him. Quickly, you were so embarrassingly close to coming, and it left you reeling as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Are you going to-” you started, your body trying to roll on top of him in a swift movement that was interrupted by the careful push of his free hand against your hip. Quinn pushed you back to laying flat against the bed, one hand still buried in your core while the other held you down at the hips. The angle he worked you into, paired with how his fingers curled at just the right spot as they worked you, sent a fire burning through you. Your arousal coated his fingers, dripping down over his palm and making a mess of the bed as pleasure pulsed through you. It left you moaning, your head thrown back against the mattress as your core clenched around his fingers, wishing that it was his cock.

As you lay in your bed, panting, you tried to remember the last time you let someone do something as adolescent as getting you off with nothing more than their fingers. But your mind was fogged by the bliss of your climax—but one thought hung low over you, preventing you from enjoying it fully. Quinn hadn’t gotten to enjoy releasing himself.

Rolling over slowly, you tried to reach out for his waistband again, but he caught your hand. Your gaze met his, his eyes soft, and his smile small as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb slowly.

“You didn’t get to-” You started, but he cut you off.

“I know,” he said, his hand bringing your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your palm—a small attempt at a distraction from how his cock still seemed to throb in the confines of his pants. “But let’s sleep on it, okay? Make sure you don’t regret this in the morning. I mean, your brother is my teammate, after all.”

“Oh,” you sounded softly, trying to hide your disappointment behind understanding, “yeah, okay. But ah- can you stay in here with me tonight?” You requested slowly, “I don’t want to sleep alone anymore-”

Quinn nodded slowly, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. “I can do that, anything to get away from sleeping on that damn couch–”

The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting long shadows across the table as you sat across from Quinn. It was the first morning since he had arrived that it felt like you weren’t walking on eggshells. It was a quiet, comfortable affair, yet there was a new tension in the air. One that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe he was regretting what had happened. That thought alone left your stomach in your throat as you poked at your breakfast, trying to find the will to take the first bite.

Then, breaking the silence, Quinn found the courage to speak. “I’m allowed to fly back to Michigan, to be with my family until the season resumes.”

Your grasp on your fork tightened, his words hitting you like a slap to the face. You could feel your face wanting to fall into a scowl, but you did your best to mask it by taking a long sip of your drink as you sought composure.

So that was it. After weeks of shared solitaire, an awkward beginning that turned into something that felt natural, he was leaving? Just like that?

“That’s great,” you said, forcing a smile. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he answered.

You could feel his gaze on your face, searching for the reaction you refused to give him. Instead, you let your features soften, a practiced smile on your features as you set your fork down on the table with deliberate care. “I won’t keep you then. You’ve got some packing to do. The last thing you need is a distraction.”

Pushing your chair back, you abandoned your place on the table, your breakfast unfinished, and moved towards your bedroom. Your footsteps were quick, your eyes fixated on your bedroom door, and they did not deviate from it. Not even as Quinn’s voice followed you, your name leaving his lips in a gentle plea, “Please wait, can we talk about this?”

His words didn’t stop you. You didn’t turn around; you didn’t look back at him. Instead, your hand just tightened into your fist at your side as you reached the threshold of your doorway. There, you lingered for a moment, your flexed hand reaching up to rest against the door frame. You could feel Quinn’s eyes on your back, and your lips parted as if to say something–a sharp retort, a clever quip, anything to fill the silence–but no words came.

Only a quivering breath left your lips as you stepped into your room and closed the door firmly behind you.

The quietness and sudden isolation of your room were suddenly suffocating. Just mere hours ago you had Quinn had woken up there, together, and now he was going to just leave? It felt like some sick and twisted joke that left you trembling as you sank to your knees. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had known before breakfast, and that last night only happened because Quinn knew he was going to leave. The what ifs were all-consuming in your mind, raging louder and louder even if you tried to combat them with: Quinn, isn’t that kind of guy. He’s good—at least that’s what you wanted to believe. But the thought wasn’t enough. Your tears came anyway, hot and unrelenting as you silently sobbed. The hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you pressed your psalm into your face to muffle any sound that threatened to escape your lips.

Quinn was leaving. After everything. After the awkward days of learning to live together, and the late-night talks, the laughter, and the moments that felt too intimate to be casual. You’d finally allowed yourself to settle into the strange shared existence the two of you had been thrust into. For two weeks, it was just the two of you alone in the little world that was your apartment. When Chris had dropped him off weeks ago, you knew the arrangement was temporary. At one point you had been counting down the hours until he could leave… but now, as you struggled through shallow breaths in search of a glimmer of composure, you had to accept he was leaving you behind, and it felt achingly permanent.

In just twenty-four hours, Quinn would be gone.

You spent each one of them alone in your room, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, but never brought yourself to. As the next time you left your room, the apartment was unbearably quiet, void of Quinn’s presence. And for the first time in weeks, you were truly alone.

#quinn hughes #vancouver canucks #nhl rpf #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey rpf #hockey smut #quinn hughes x reader #;; { you will see me challenging myself with different players throughout the year }#dividers by: cafekitsune #;; { if you voted in my 1 or 2 poll this is what you voted for btw }

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wolvietxt · 5 hours ago

Text

ᰔ anesthesia !

↳ logan howlett x fem!reader

the fluorescent lights of the medbay hummed softly, casting a stark glow over the otherwise sterile room. logan paced back and forth outside the door, his boots scuffing against the polished floor. he hated this part - the waiting. the not knowing. his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, tension coiled in his shoulders like a spring wound too tight.

“she’s gonna be fine, logan,” jean’s voice came from behind him, calm and reassuring. “you know she’s tough.”

he grunted in response, not trusting himself to say anything else. tough or not, you’d gotten hurt. surgery had been necessary after a mission gone sideways, and now you were in there, under anesthesia, while he was stuck out here feeling useless.

when hank finally poked his head out of the medbay, logan stopped mid-stride. “she okay?”

“she’s fine. the procedure went well, but she’s still coming off the anesthesia,” hank said, smiling a little. “you can see her if you want. just don’t expect much sense out of her for a bit.”

logan nodded and pushed past him, his boots heavier than usual as he walked inside. his eyes landed on you immediately. you were sitting up slightly, looking drowsy but very much alive. relief washed over him like a tidal wave, but he masked it with a gruff expression as he crossed his arms.

“what the hell were you thinking out there?” he started, voice low and gravelly. “you can’t just throw yourself into danger like that - ”

“pspspsps,” you interrupted, your eyes zeroing in on him as if he were the most fascinating thing in the world. “kitty. come here, kitty.”

logan froze mid-lecture, his brows furrowing. “what?”

you reached out a wobbly hand toward his head, fingers making the unmistakable beckoning motion people used for cats. “kitty! your hair’s so… fluffy. come here, let me pet you.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, utterly baffled. you were high as a kite, and he had no idea how to handle it. “you’re out of your damn mind,” he muttered, but he didn’t move away when your hand made contact with his hair.

“so soft,” you mumbled, running your fingers through it with clumsy determination. “why didn’t you tell me you’re secretly a big ol’ kitty?”

he huffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “i ain’t a cat, darlin’.”

“mhm,” you said, clearly not believing him. your fingers trailed to his sideburns, and you giggled. “the whiskers. so majestic.”

logan’s patience was wearing thin, but not in the usual way. he was more amused than he wanted to admit, but he didn’t want to encourage you. “alright, that’s enough,” he said, gently taking your hand and lowering it back to your lap. “you’re supposed to be resting.”

“you’re supposed to be snuggly,” you countered, blinking up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. “c’mon, kitty. gimme a hug.”

he sighed deeply, muttering something about anesthesia making people loopy, but he leaned in slightly to placate you. you threw your arms around his neck, squeezing as much as your post-surgery state allowed.

“you smell nice,” you murmured into his shoulder. “like… woodsy. and safe. you’re so grumpy all the time, but you’re really sweet. my big, grumpy kitty.”

the words hit him harder than he expected, and he felt his throat tighten. he wasn’t used to being called sweet. most people saw the claws, the temper, the rough exterior. but here you were, high as hell and still managing to say the one thing that could disarm him completely.

he cleared his throat, patting your back awkwardly. “yeah, well, don’t go spreadin’ that around. gotta keep up my reputation.”

you pulled back slightly, your gaze dreamy but sincere. “i won’t tell. promise.” then you tapped your lips with a finger, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “but only if you purr for me, kitty.”

logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “darlin’, you’re gonna regret all this when you’re sober.”

“nope,” you said, popping the “p.” “i’ll never regret you, logan.”

his chest tightened again, and he looked away, trying to hide the way your words affected him. “you’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was no heat behind it.

“and you’re my favorite kitty,” you replied, your voice softening as your eyelids began to droop. “such a pretty kitty…”

logan stayed by your side as you drifted off, your breathing evening out. he shook his head, a small, fond smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

“damn troublemaker,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face.

and if he stayed a little longer than necessary, making sure you were comfortable and safe, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

ᰔ logan howlett : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @urlocallocachica, @person-005, @nestavadavat

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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