#and then got upset when i batted his hand away in pain

[acourtofpenandpaper]

Our girl (Bat Boys x Reader)

Warning: Filthy smut ahead. Be warned, under 18 stay away.

For all others: enjoy...

Tags: Why choose? Bat boys x Reader, smut, 18+, group sex, oral sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, daddy kink, praise kink

Summary: Exploring the nightlife of Velaris isn't easy for me when I get dragged away from the dance floor. I was just feeling up my chances with a fae male to take home with me. But Rhys, Cassian and Az have other things in mind. And they don't like to share with others...

Length: 4.1k

Masterlist

Swaying with the beat of the music, I let go completely. Pearls of sweat clung to my chest, but I didn’t mind. It came with all the dancing, but this was exactly what I had come for tonight. After some persuasion from my side, I made the guys accompany me to explore the new club that opened in Velaris’ entertainment quarter.

Reluctantly, the High Lord of the Night Court had agreed to my nightly plans, and Cassian and Azriel followed suit after some persuading.

The Fae male had appeared by my side suddenly and with a smile, we danced around each other. He was beautiful, his blonde hair cut short and his eyes piercingly blue. I wouldn’t mind laying in his bed tonight. Imagined his full lips in-between my legs. My pulse shot to my middle, and I felt my panties dampen.

Oh, what I would do to get laid tonight. It had been a while. Entirely too long…

But I couldn’t finish my thought before a large hand landed on my dance partner’s shoulder.

Me and the blonde Fae looked to our sides. Cassian stood next to me, the spotlights highlighting the muscles peaking out from his shirt. He smirked and turned to the other male who looked concerned.

“Thanks for looking out for my girl. I can take it from here”, he shouted and grabbed my hand.

I wanted to protest but it was no use. With an apologetic look, I mouthed a quick goodbye to the male who looked just as dumbfounded as I felt right this moment.

But the pull on my hand was relentless, so I had no choice other than following Cassian through the crowd on the dance floor.

He abruptly stopped by the side of the floor next to a flight of stairs that apparently lead upstairs. I crashed face first into his broad and hard chest, and I couldn’t help but give him an upset look.

“Cassian, what the hell was that?” I shouted over the loud bass of the music. The music was so loud, I could feel all the vibrations coming from the various speakers in my body. It was a levitating feeling.

With his large hand, Cassian tipped up my chin and met my gaze with a grin on his lips. His highly delicious lips.

If the blonde Fae male from before had been pretty, Cassian was in an entirely different universe. So handsome it was painful. And I had to admit I envied the women he bedded.

But that envy extended to all my out-of-this-universe-handsome friends. Rhys, Cassian and Az were not only great friends but also insanely nice to look at.

And being the lucky girl tonight, I met Cassian’s gaze with confidence.

He finally opened his mouth and dropped close to my ear. My eyes fluttered in response to his hot breath on my skin.

“I was under the assumption that and just to note, Az and Rhys are sharing my view, that you haven’t dragged us into this club just to leave us alone.”

Baffled, I leaned back and said: “And I was under the assumption that you would mingle with other people.”

He chuckled softly and pushed back a loose strand of my hair. I couldn’t help but shiver under his touch.

“Okay, next time we’ll work on our communication. Rhys booked a private room in the VIP section, so we could have some…privacy. They are upstairs and hopefully, got some drinks.”

I should’ve guessed that the High Lord of the Night Court wouldn’t just dance around with the normal crowd. He had a reputation to protect and couldn’t just publicly grind on a stranger. Fair enough.

“Sorry for wandering off. You didn’t have to scare that poor guy, though”, I chuckled and laid my hand in Cassian’s.

He stepped aside for me to take the stairs and followed closely.

“It was fun, wasn’t it? He will get over it. Not that he stood a chance with taking you home or…?”

“Cassian, are you asking me if I wanted to fuck him? The answer is yes, a hundred times. It’s been a while, and I am not…”

I abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

“And you are not what?” He crooned and opened the first door to the right of the hallway.

“Nothing. Forget what I said.” I tried to brush it off.

We both entered the room. Rhys and Azriel were already sitting on of the couches, drink in hand. The room was dimly lit but the first thing I noticed was the big window facing the dance floor. From downstairs, I didn’t see the big window because of the dark and bright lights. But from here, I had a perfect view of all the people dancing.

“Had a little fun without us?” Rhys asked by my side and handed me a glass with a cold liquid. Knowing him, he knew that I didn’t do alcohol and I was delighted tasting sweet soda.

So, they had seen me dancing with the other male. Probably ordered Cassian to go fetch me to ruin my chance at having a little fun tonight.

“Yes, until this jerk came and ruined my fun”, I joked and pointed to Cassian who crashed onto the other couch. “Is this window…can they see us?”

Rhys flicked a switch on the wall to his side. “There is a switch for privacy. We can see them, but they cannot if we don’t want to.”

“Say, what did you want to say right before entering the room?” Azriel asked, still sitting on the couch and sipping his drink.

Was there ever a word Azriel didn’t hear? I faced him and waved off his question nonchalantly.

“Oh, it was nothing really.”

“Actually, she was just telling me that I ruined her chance of getting laid tonight. Because it’s been a whi…ouch!” Cassian laughed when I threw a soft pillow to make him shut up.

This male would be the death of me.

“I see”, Azriel responded. In the dim light of the room, I could make out a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, is that so? I wouldn’t have reckoned you having issues in this regard”, Rhys said, sitting down on the edge of the couch. His gaze was set on me.

“Well, not everyone looks like they got out of every woman’s or man’s wet dream, so excuse me wanting to take my chances”, I explained, pointing towards the guys.

Suddenly, I felt cornered in my place by the window. But nobody had moved. Yet, I could feel the air somehow becoming warmer. Three pair of eyes seemed to study me closely and I was scared to move.

“A woman’s wet dream?” Cassian chuckled. “I feel flattered.”

“Don’t listen to him”, Rhys whispered and stood. “I am more concerned about your lack of self-awareness. I am sure you have no trouble finding a male or female to take home with you. You just have no interest in them, I reckon. Say, what is your wet dream?”

He stepped closer to me while I tried to hold my distance by taking a step back. The cool glass of the window caressed the naked skin of my back.

My eyes flitted around the room, finding all the guys’ gaze on me. I gulped and met Rhysand’s eyes.

“I want to be owned. Claimed.”

Rhys hummed in response. Now he was towering me, our chests almost touching. I craned my neck to see his face.

“Claimed by whom?”

This wasn’t possible. They were my friends, purely platonic. For them at least. I had to admit that sometimes my fantasies surrounded them when I was touching myself. But the lust in his eyes spoke truth. And our intentions seemed to align tonight.

I dared to look to his side to see the same hunger in Cassian’s and Azriel’s eyes. What the hell was happening? But it felt like another, more confident version of myself, taking over as my mouth opened and I whispered:

“By you. By you all.”

Rhysand’s purple eyes took on the darkest shade I had ever seen them.

“Fucking finally.”

His hand reached up to my neck and he pulled me closer to him, crashing his mouth on mine. Somehow, I still ended up surprised by this whole interaction, so I just stood there trying to process.

Rhys seemed to notice my reluctancy and leaned back, his eyes still hungry.

“You okay with this? We don’t have to…”

“No, no! I want you, it’s just a lot at once”, I breathed.

“Maybe I was a bit greedy. Let’s get you comfortable, what do you say, guys?”

“Seems like a good idea”, Cassian’s voice sounded from the back.

He led me to the couch, and I sat down next to Cassian while Rhys followed and sandwiched me between them. My gaze flicked back to Azriel who lazily drew circles on the couch’s cushion and studied us.

“Our girl wants a slower pace, so she is going to get it”, Rhys breathed against my neck and spread slow kisses on my sensitive skin.

Our girl.

The sound of his voice shot straight between my legs, and I pressed them together to ease the sudden wave of lust rushing through me.

“I think she liked you calling her that”, Azriel remarked opposite us. Meanwhile, Cassian had begun to claim my mouth and by the Cauldron, his lips were as delicious as I had assumed.

His kiss was slower than the one from Rhys before and I closed my eyes, enjoying their mouths roaming over my body.

“You like me calling you our girl? Well, get used to it because when we are done with you, you’re ruined for all men. You are ours. Just ours.” Rhys sounded behind me, and I felt my panties getting damp again.

Cassian’s tongue entered my mouth and I slightly nibbled on his bottom lip, wanting to tease him a bit for embarrassing me before. He chuckled and embraced my cheek with his hand.

I would have never guessed him to be so gentle. But I was also sure that he could fuck me senseless.

Right in this moment, he bit down on my lip and a moan escaped me.

Meanwhile, Rhys managed to open the back clasp of my dress.  I turned around, wanting to give him some attention as well and met his mouth in a kiss.

“Get her out of this dress. It seems rather distracting”, Azriel’s voice sounded.

The straps of my dress slung down my shoulders and I felt Cassian’s hands pushing them down, revealing my breasts and peaking nipples.

He sharply breathed in. “So beautiful. So perfect, don’t you think, Az?”

Azriel hummed in agreement. From the corner of my eye, I saw him cupping his hard member through his dark jeans.

Cassian continued to help me get rid of the dress, so I broke free of Rhysand’s kiss to quickly lift my ass. The dress finally pooled around my feet, leaving me in just my black lace thong.

“You are exquisite”, Rhysand growled and grabbed my right ass check, pushing me down on his lap.

His hands roamed the front of my body while Cassian kneeled in front of me, spreading kisses on my thighs. Rhys cupped one of breasts and squeezed, slightly pinching my hard nipple. My breath hitched and I arched into his touch.

I could feel him growing harder under my ass. This was blissful torture, and I enjoyed every second of it.

Rhys’ other hand wandered over my stomach and played with the seam of my thong. I whimpered, needing his touch, wanting to be touched.

“You greedy little thing, aren’t you? What do you want?” He teased me.

“I want…you”, I breathed out, moving my hips for some friction on his lap.

“What exactly? Cassian, stop. Say, what do you want?”

Cassian stopped in his tracks and looked up to us.

“I want your fingers fucking me”, I stated.

“Oh, you want my fingers to fuck your greedy pussy?” Rhys pinched my nipple again, this time with more pressure making me cry out. “Cassian, let’s get rid of these panties.”

I spread my legs slightly and Cassian pulled down my thong, leaving me completely bare while the guys were still clothed. Somehow, that turned me on even more. I felt vulnerable and exposed but also safe. I could trust them with my body and pleasure.

“Rhys, she’s even more beautiful down here”, Cassian said while his gaze devoured my glistening sex.

“Mhm. I am sure of that”, Rhys responded while his hand traveled south. “Hell, you are already soaking wet. I bet you feel amazing when I finally push my cock into you. Would you like that?” He asked and pushed a finger into my pussy.

“Yes, I want that”, I whimpered and grinded against his hand, making him chuckle.

Rhys switched up his position and pushed his fingers into my pussy from the side, leaving my clit out in the open. Cassian accepted the invitation and grabbed my legs, hoisting them on Rhys’ knees. His tongue sloppily licked my clit and painted in circles.

“My god, she’s delicious.” He hummed.

There, I was lying, getting finger-fucked by Rhys’ delicate fingers and Cassian devouring my pussy. Over his head, I watched Azriel’s face who was still studying the sight in front of him.

Rhys picked up his pace and grazed my G-spot. My moans were getting louder, and I couldn’t take it any longer. A sensation so strong I could cry was building up inside my stomach.

“I am going to come, oh god, yes don’t stop”, I cried out.

Suddenly, the sensation stopped. Rhys’ fingers had pulled out of my aching pussy and Cassian kneeled inches before me, catching his breath.

“What the?”

“You come when we tell you to. Now stand up”, Rhys ordered me, and I followed suit. “Our friend seems a little lonely over there. Why don’t you give him some of your attention?”

My gaze flicked to Azriel who sat up and reached out his hand. I grasped it and he pulled me onto his lap. My wetness flowed down onto his jeans, but he didn’t seem to mind when he crashed his mouth on mine. I grinded on him, feeling up his already hard cock beneath me.

My god, he was big. The girls always joked around that Azriel was the biggest between the guys, judging from his wingspan. And the rumors seemed to be true.

I needed to see him for myself. Wanted to have him in my mouth, even if it meant choking myself to death.

Hastily, I opened the fly of his trousers and pulled them and his briefs down. His cock sprang free, and I gasped. The sheer size of it wasn’t the surprising bit. Fascinated, I reached out and touched one of the four piercings that spread out along his length. I bet they felt amazing.

“Did they hurt?” I asked.

Azriel shrugged. “I don’t mind the pain.”

I leant forward and enveloped my hand over his hard cock. His eyes fluttered shut and he threw back his head.

“I want your mouth”, he mouthed while I slid my hand up and down his length.

Losing no time, I lowered my mouth onto his cock. It was unusual, sucking a pierced one but it was interesting feeling. Hungrily, I licked my tongue up and down his cock and sucked on his tip. A low moan escaped his lips.

This was so hot. I was so busy sucking Azriel that I didn’t notice Cassian kneeling behind me. Suddenly, his hot tongue licked my pussy from behind and I cried out on Az’s cock.

The vibrations seemed to work wonders for him, so I continued to hum in pleasure while licking my way up and down his delicious member.

“Cassian, I think she seems like she needs a good fucking from behind, don’t you think?” Rhys asked.

I let go of Azriel while still sliding my hand over his cock and turned around to see Cassian standing up from behind me and working on his trousers. He lost the shirt while working on me from behind and was now stepping out of his briefs. That was one beautiful male.

“Don’t worry, babe, we are all clean”, Rhys remarked from the couch, and I nodded in response.

“I am on birth control, and just got back from the doc. All good”, I responded.

Cassian smirked from behind me and suddenly, I felt a large tip tracing circles around my soaking entrance.

“I’ve always wanted to take you bare. Gosh, you feel so amazing”, he rumbled as he pushed slowly inside me.

My back arched in response as I took in the full size of Cassian. He was right, this felt amazing. Intoxicating, even.

I turned back to Azriel and lowered my mouth on his cock again. One hand was propped up on his knee for support while Cassian slowly pounded into me from behind.

When I was sure I wouldn’t lose my balance, my other hand wandered to Az’s balls and I played with them, lightly putting pressure on them. A low rumble sounded from Azriel’s chest.

I loved how responsive the otherwise quiet spymaster was when I played with his cock. It was addictive and I wanted more. More of him. Him inside me, all of them.

Cassian picked up the pace and hit my g-spot, making me see stars. Rhys appeared in the corner of my eyes and kneeled next to me, his hands lazily stroking my breasts and nipples.

“You should see yourself. How you take Cassian’s cock so well and devour Az with your mouth. I have never seen any girl completely sucking him off, but I knew you would. Good girl”, Rhys praised me and leant down to suck on my nipple.

In-between Cassian hitting my g-spot, Rhysand sucking my nipples and the feel of Azriel’s cock in my mouth, the sensation became too much.

I let go of Azriel and cried: “Rhys, I am close. I want to come so badly…”

Rhys looked up and smirked. “Will you ask nicely?”

Oh, that’s how this was going.

“I want to come so badly, please. Please, daddy. Let me come”, I pleaded.

“Guys, what do you say? Does our girl deserve to come already?” He asked and looked at his friends. One pounding into me and the other one getting stroked by my hand.

“Only if she takes our cum. All of it”, Az exclaimed.

“Agreed”, Cassian grunted behind me, his thrusts growing sloppily. He had to be close himself.

“What do you say? You take our cum like a good girl and then you come?”

I nodded eagerly, going back to sucking Az.

It took not much longer until Cassian moaned behind me and thrusted into me hard. After some time, he stopped his movement and I could feel his cum dripping down my thighs, hot and wet. He leant down and spread some lazy kisses on my back.

In front of me, Azriel’s pants grew louder, and his chest was heaving with his quickened breathing.

“Don’t stop, just like that”, he panted.

I could taste the first wave of his salty cum on my tongue, so I let go of his cock and quickly sat on his lap. In an instant, I pushed him inside of me, riding out his orgasm while he spilled his cum into me.

Moments later, Azriel stilled and looked at me completely dumfounded. He reached over and kissed me, probably tasting himself on my tongue.

From my side, a hand pulled me off Azriel’s lap and I protested, not enjoying the sudden emptiness. I was faced with Rhys’ naked body, and I let my gaze roam over him.

They were all way out of my league which was crazy to think when I was right now dripping with the cum of two of them. But Rhys had this regal vibe to him that only being the High Lord of the Night Court brought along.

And the High Lord had watched enough. Now it was his time. Rhys pulled me to him and crooned: “Do you enjoy getting filled up?”

I nodded.

“Good girl. One more and you’re allowed to come.”

My pussy ached at his words, eager to find the sweet release I was chasing that whole time.

Rhys guided me through the room and pushed me chest-first against the cold glass of the window. A shiver went through me, starting with my sensitive nipples.

“See those people dancing downstairs, oblivious to the fact that you are getting fucked by all of us over here. How about we give them a little show? Would you like that? Let them see you getting fucked by the High Lord of the Night Court?” Rhys whispered into my ear.

“Yes”, I breathed against the glass.

“I didn’t quite catch that?”

“Yes, daddy”, I moaned as his hand stroked my swollen clit.

I heard the flick of the switch and then Rhys pressed his hard cock against me, pushing inside me.

My hands land against the glass for support and Rhys pounded into me for the whole club to see. The dancers still seemed oblivious to it.

But just the possibility of someone seeing us, me pressed against the glass with hard nipples getting fucked by Rhysand almost pushed me over the edge.

“Such a good girl, taking all our cocks so well. Let them see what a good girl you are”, Rhys panted behind me and reached in front of me, flicking my clit.

I cried out, it was almost painful to be touched. I needed to come, badly. It all depended on Rhysand who was going steady in a fast and hard rhythm, holding my shoulders back. I lost myself in the blissful feeling of fullness and let go of any control of my body.

Screams and moans escaped me as I felt Rhys spilling himself into me with one final thrust and low grunt. He pulled out of me and grabbed my shoulder to turn me around. By now I was a panting mess, sticky from all the sweat and cum on me. I couldn’t think straight, only one thought on my mind.

Rhys embraced my neck with his hand and crashed his mouth onto mine, like in the beginning of this dreamlike evening.

“You felt amazing. You deserve to come. Let me make you feel good”, he breathed and kneeled in front of me.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The High Lord kneeling in front of me. Rhys’ gaze locked with mine as his tongue licked between my swollen folds.

I cried out and leant my head against the glass. But I didn’t want to miss the sight of Rhys feasting on me, so I watched in the corner of my eye. His hands grabbed my ass from behind as he pushed his face into my pussy, sucking on my clit and tasting his own cum mixed with his friends’.

This feeling was like no other and in no time, the sensation from before built up in my stomach. But this time, Rhys didn’t stop. Now I knew better though, and asked for his permission:

“Daddy, may I come?”

“Yes, come for us. Come.” He ordered and sucked harder on my clit.

At his command, I came apart and screamed with pleasure under the eager gaze of Cassian and Az.

“Oh god, yes, yes like that” I panted and rode out my climax on Rhys’ tongue.

He pressed a soft kiss on my now sensitive clit and stood, embracing my face with his hand. Cassian flicked the switch for the window next to him, giving us privacy again.

“You were amazing. Are you okay?”

His voice sounded concerned and I nodded, trying to slow my breath to an acceptable pace.

“Good. Now let’s get you dressed. We can prepare a bath at home for you if you like”, he proposed and pressed a soft kiss on my lips.

To my side, Cassian did the same on my shoulder and traced his fingers over my back. Azriel appeared next to Rhys and held up my dress. Helping me get into it, they kept a close watch on me. As if they were concerned that it was all too much for me.

If anything, I cherished the feeling of being filled with their cum, which was dripping down my thighs. I felt safe and loved as Rhys laid an arm over my shoulder and guided me out of the room that smelled like pure sex by now.

“Guys, let’s get our girl home.”

Now, that was something I could get used to.

I hope you enjoyed this short story!

[luveline]

how’re eddie and roan doing??🫶🏻

(step)mom!reader, 2k

Sometimes you know you’re not good enough for Eddie and his daughter.

It’s a pinprick pain in the same place. The tiniest fear turned to heat.

“I’m gonna get you!” he warns.

“No, you’re not!” Roan stands at the other side of the room. With the door at her father’s back, she has no proof to substantiate her claim, but she makes it anyway. “You’re slow!”

You sit on the end of the bed with one leg hanging off, a socked foot brushing the carpet. Your legs are aching and the bottom of your spine feels bruised, so you aren’t joining in tonight. You watch them glare and giggle at one another.

Your head hurts between your eyes.

Eddie makes a ‘scary’ face and runs across the room to grab her. She squeals in terrified delight and races for the bed, climbing up behind you and over it, swapping places with him easily, or so she thinks. She’s slower than he is, and can’t escape his grabbing hands as he leaps for her on your bed, flattening your stepdaughter into a pancake.

“No, no,” she laughs beneath him.

Eddie braces his arms either side of her. “I told you’d I’d get you,” he says in a menacing voice, like a character from a movie, he can do a hundred different impressions. “You’ve stolen your last Twinkie, child. Be prepared for retribution.”

“I hate retribution!” she shouts.

Eddie laughs like a kid. “You’ll have to learn to love it.”

He grabs the end of her shirt, tugs it up, and drops his face into her stomach to grow the world's most aggressive raspberry. Roan screams the house down, laughing and shrieking as the vibrations tickle her skin. Eddie takes another big breath, lets it out against her bellybutton, even as Roan’s knees come up and jab him in the arm. “Dad, oh my gosh, stop!”

He stops. “You surrender?”

“No.” A third huge raspberry gets pressed into her tummy.

“Give up,” he sing-songs, “you know you can’t defeat me, little Munson.”

“Y/N, please help me,” Roan says, half crawling under Eddie’s weight to grab your arm. “Please save me.”

Your smile is two shades off, but she doesn’t notice, and you wouldn’t want her to. “I can’t, princess, only a knight can save you now.”

Eddie blows a raspberry on her tummy, then her neck. She hates that even more than the tummy ones and flings herself out of his arms with breathless laughter, the urgency of knowing you’re going to be killed by such horrible, painful, excruciating affection. “You,” she says, taking deep breaths as she slinks down onto the floor, “are the worse dad. Ever.” She laughs like taffy. “I’m listening to my body and it says I need some soda.”

“You can have a capri sun,” Eddie says firmly.

She rushes away, runs down the stairs, and it’s all Eddie can do to constrain his usual warning, you can tell. “She’s gonna fall down them,” he says, batting the hair out of his eyes, “and then what will I do?”

You smile weakly. “I don’t know, teddy. Guess we’d have to roll her around in a wheelbarrow for a bit.”

He clambers onto his knees beside you. A spiral curl falls into his eyes. Everybody’s pretty when they smile but Eddie’s a heartbreak when he’s upset, when the corner of his mouth twitches wanting to pull down and his eyes lose their mirth. “Hey, what’s wrong?” With a little more pep, “Are you tired? Hungry?”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t accept it.” His hand hesitates by your leg. “What’s not okay?”

You shake your head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He’s prettier than you are, with a better heart. He’s a great father and you’re a shitty mom. You have less practice than he has, sure, but you can’t do anything right for Roan lately, you mess up her lunch and forget to buy her yoghurts when you’re coming home even though Eddie called you twice to make sure you got them. He didn’t even get mad. If he asks you one more time what’s wrong, you’re gonna burst into tears.

He doesn’t ask.

Eddie wraps an arm heavily over the back of your shoulders and neck. The other vys for your hand in your lap, his knuckles brushing against your thigh. “You’re not feeling up to it, is that what it is? Maybe you’re tired,” he suggests, with all his usual tenderness. You’re struck with a memory of him when you’d first started dating, how awkward he could be and how he’d shoved it aside when you had one of your worst days at work. He’d surprised you outside, Roan waiting in his backseat, promising to take you home and make you a home cooked meal. You’d eaten it under his arm like this.

There were moments before you’d been his girlfriend where you worried he wasn’t gonna let you have him. That he wasn’t gonna want you, that you’d move on from each other and have to pretend it never happened. But he’s whispering in your ear, hand latched onto your arm and rubbing circles into the tired muscle there without thought. “You can tell me anything,” he’s saying, “you know you can, just tell me what’s bothering you, don’t like it when you’re quiet…”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, tight and squeezed, so clearly evident that you’re gonna cry.

“At work?”

“All day.”

“Why? What’s bad?” he asks.

Nothing, you think, nothing’s bad, nothing is different than usual, but you feel awful. Like your hearts trying to invert itself in your chest, an upset with notes of panic.

“You know what I think it is?” he asks when you don’t answer, his demeanour dipping further and further into tenderness. “I think you didn’t eat enough at dinner, and you didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now you could use a shower and a hug and maybe a little time to yourself. When was the last time you had an hour for you?”

Your eyes crinkle tightly, your mouth twists. You get that weird rush of tingles all over your face and the heat of collecting tears. “It’s not like that,” you insist. “I love you, I don’t want time away from you, I swear.”

“I don’t want time away from you.” He kisses your cheek, twice, a third time, each one with more pressure than the kiss before. “I just mean… I don’t know, baby, I just thought you might be dealing with a lot.”

The worst thing bursts out of you, because you need him to tell you it’s not true. “I’m such a bad mom.”

The crying is unfortunate and immediate, your shoulders seizing under his arm. Eddie could tell it was coming, you’re sure, he doesn’t baulk, he never does.

“You’re not a bad mom, you’re a great mom,” he says, followed by a great wave of shushing.

“I’m awful, I’m supposed to be so much better, I can’t even remember her snacks.”

“Snacks are a really huge part of being a mom,” he says, “but she doesn’t care. She forgave you the moment you said sorry. You think she cares about her yoghurts? That’s not why she sits there waiting everyday after school, is it?”

“You asked me to get them and I forgot.”

“Well, should we call the cops now or later?”

“Eddie.”

He ushers your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t done anything that would make you a bad mom.”

You’re not Roan’s natural mother, you didn’t carry her, and so you find yourself in a privileged position. She treats you as she would a mom, she calls you mommy every day. You’re still letting her down.

“I love you, and Ro, and I wouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t love her, but you know… you really– you give more effort than we ever asked you to. You’re amazing. I never could have imagined getting to be with someone I love, and who loves my girl like she’s their own.” His murmuring takes the wryness of someone who knows what they’re saying is immeasurably corny, and he doesn’t stop. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is, but I do.”

“She deserves more.”

“She deserves you. You love her.”

You scrub your face, hiding from him behind your fingers. He waits in the quiet, now rubbing your back in large passes of his hand.

“Is that the only thing that’s making you like this?”

“I just feel like… everything I do, I could do better. Everything. And lately I feel so ugly. I thought this stuff would go away,” you confess, letting your hands fall away.

“I don’t think worrying ever goes away. Everybody worries about something.”

He ushers you back, the arm that warmed your shoulders dropping, his hand reaching instead for your face. He thumbs at tearstains and your damp top lip. “Please don’t cry,” he says, “you’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re killer, you always have been, but it’s my fault you don’t know that. I don’t tell you enough.”

He must tell you everyday, some days he tells you ten times or more. Still, it’s nice to have him say it, to place the blame of your insecurities on him, to try and make it his problem and not yours. It’s extremely loving, if extremely untrue.

“Sorry, Eddie. I think you’re right. Think I need to sleep, and, I don’t know. Stop feeling sorry for myself.” You smile weakly.

“I don’t think that’s what it is. If you need me to tell you what I think about you to feel better, I’ll do it every hour of the day.” He beams at you. “I hate when you cry.”

You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“No– No, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t make me an asshole. I’m happy to see you smile again.”

“You give a good pep talk.”

“Can I give you a kiss now, is that alright?”

“If you stop being so nice after.”

Eddie turns his face and kisses you soundly. His hand climbs to your neck, his index finger draws a short, light line up your throat as his lips move against yours, and curls into itself as he pulled away to stroke gently under your chin. Then he gives you a shove, forcing you to lay down.

“Cheer up, dummy. You’re a great mom and you’re gonna be the best wife. Chill out.”

You catch one of his mean hands to hold to your tummy.

He sits there with you for ages. Five minutes turns to ten, then ten to fifteen, nothing else said, but his hand unmoving where you’ve put it.

“Ro!” he calls eventually. “Where’d you go, bub? Are you okay?”

Her mouth is obviously full when she calls back, “I’m okay!”

“That rascal is eating my Twinkies,” he says.

“Go stop her,” you say, pinching his fingers between yours playfully, softly, one at a time.

“We’re having time to ourselves.”

“I don’t need time away from her.”

“I know. But you need time to lay down without somebody bugging you to play, or watch her do a handstand. She’ll come back as soon as she’s hid the evidence, anyways.” He rolls his eyes. “Like I won’t notice.”

You crawl towards him and curl around him, locking him in place. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“It’s literally my favourite thing to do.”

Your front to his back where he’s sitting, your face against the back of his hip, you kiss his t-shirt. He makes a soft sound, breathing out, his hands covering your arm where you’ve hooked him at the waist.

—

more eddie, roan and reader

[asce-of-hearts]

Hey there! I was wondering if you could do "🐵 would you let me cut my name into your soft skin?" for Jing Yuan please!!!!

Territorial

contents: Yandere!Jing Yuan with prompt: 🐵 (gn!reader)

more Jing Yuan content here

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WARNINGS: YANDERE, MANIPULATION, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, SORT OF OOC IDK, JEALOUSY, READER IS KIND OF AN ASS, NOT PROOFREAD.

"Sometimes I think you don't respect me." He says with tired eyes, as if he's about to fall asleep.

"And that's because?"

"Because... you do these things, that I've told you upset me, yet you can't seem to cater to my needs just for once."

"That's because, general. Your needs include me staying by your side all the time and not talking to any other human being that isn't you. I think those, ah "demands" are fairly unreasonable." You lash out at him, speaking through gritted teeth.

He could roll his eyes in this moment.

"You're twisting my words," He hums again, seemingly uninterested. "The only thing I asked from you, ___. Is to stop batting your pretty little lashes at every man you encounter every time you want something." His gaze drifts up to you, quickly, sharp. "I do not want to be in the need to mark my territory like some kind of wild animal."

"Maybe I do that because I want you to mark your territory." You answer with a humorless chuckle.

"Mmm-hmm, whatever you say." He stands up, pushing his chair out of the way with a little more strength than he would've liked to. "If you excuse me, this conversation is boring me quite a lot, and I've got better things to do than deal with your... strange ways of toying with me."

You both sigh once you are out of each others sight.

He tosses and turns in bed, unable to sleep even when his eyes hurt and his lids feel heavier and heavier. He stares at the ceiling, the image of you evoking both anger and sadness into his mind.

Why can't you just behave?

The next couple of days are awkward, you don't cross that many words. Only polite greetings, nods of acknowledgement as a response to waves of a hand.

The third day, you're inside his bedroom. His large hands over your figure, he's so tall, you wonder just how is he able to fit through doors without hitting himself in the head most of the time. The thought is amusing enough to make you smile as he peppers kisses all over your neck.

"You're making me loose it, ___." He whispers, his tongue traveling from the nape of your neck to your jaw. "I want to... pin you down on the bed and fuck you until all you can do is think of me." He groans, hiding his face in your chest, his voice muffled as he speaks. He's always so blunt, not worrying about embarrassing words or lewd comments, you fluster at this. "I only restrain myself because I can't stand it when you nag me about bruises and hip pain."

"It wasn't my intention to bother you, general."

"I know," His eyes fix on yours again, half lidded. He traces the curve of your back, his fingers digging into the soft skin. "But maybe bruising you and leaving bite marks all over you is the only way to mark my territory over you, at least enough for you to behave." He smirks. "You're quite pliant once you get a good fuck from my behalf."

"Shut up," You push him away, covering your face with your hands. "I don't want to have to wear turtlenecks all year just because you're jealous."

"Then I guess there's another solution." You look at him through your fingers, his sword is laying next to him, he traces the blade with his calloused fingers. "Would you let me cut my name into your soft skin?"

Your eyes widen, and you try to take a step back. You shake your head in disagreement once your back hits the cold wall.

"No, what?" You ask in disbelief. His expression darkens, he gives out a tired smile.

"I just think there's no other way for you to love me."

hope you enjoyed this

have a great day/night

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Do you have any Kane headcanons?

I sure do! <3

Rating: T  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?•ko-fi•

EDIT: shout out to @reallyrallyauthor who has just posted some amazing headcanons too!

Smells floraly. It’s not an extreme/off putting smell, but it hits you every now and then. At first, you think it’s just his body wash or something, but pretty soon you work out it’s just him. (My brain is telling me especially like a Hawthorn scent for some reason.) 

Animals love him. It’s almost like they are hypnotised/drawn to him. Wild animals will act domesticated/docile around him. Pets will instantly bond with him. He doesn’t seem to bat an eye at this and just acts as if it’s completely normal. 

Once a grizzly bear came out of nowhere when you were both on a hike, despite the noise you had made sure you’d been making. You’d frozen, grabbing at Kane’s arm. But Kane had just cocked his head to the side and the bear had sat down peacefully. 

“It’s fine.” Kane had told you, voice even and quiet.

But when he saw your panic, he’d nodded his head to the side and the bear had walked off that way. 

He didn’t understand why you’d dragged him back to the car. “It was fine.” 

“Grizzly’s kill people Kane.” 

“We were safe.” 

“You can’t know that.” 

He’d looked at you carefully, as if you were a toddler trying to convince him you’d see a flying pig. 

He doesn’t like to shake hands when meeting new people. It’s unsettling for him, makes his skin crawl. But he’ll do it anyway once he learns about social niceties to try to fit in. However, he’ll grab your hand afterwards and squeeze it rhythmically to calm down and get rid of the stranger’s touch. 

He gets overstimulated easily in new situations around new people and will just shut down, not speaking and avoiding eye contact completely. His warning signs are subtle and easy to miss unless you’re paying attention. 

However, if you’re near he’ll find you and just say, “leave.” quietly. 

He also comes to you when he’s overstimulated, most of the time he’ll just bury his face in your neck to shut out whatever is causing him distress. 

Despite not liking touching strangers he is more than happy to touch plants, animals and inanimate objects. And you. 

In fact he rarely does anything without some kind of physical contact with you. Holding your hand or touching your arm or leg, putting his head on your shoulder, practically laying in your lap. He’s like a cat. 

Doesn’t like it when you’re upset. It’s one of the rare times you see an immediate reaction from him, even if he doesn’t understand what’s upset you or made you angry he’s doing whatever he needs to to fix it. To stop you from feeling pain. 

Someone once pushed you rudely in the supermarket and you frowned. Kane was one second away from throwing a punch. You had to drag him out of the shop and explain that that wasn’t an ‘appropriate response’. 

He has settled on being very vocal if someone is impolite towards you, just saying “Rude.” very loudly and pointedly while staring the offender down. 

People don’t like his stare. The one he only seems to use when something’s gone wrong. When someone’s trying to square up to him. It seems to stop them in their tracks and make them reconsider. Causes a little spike of terror in their hearts. 

He’s never used the look on you, only gazing at you quizzically or softly. 

He follows you around, a little lost at times. Needing to be in the same room as you. 

At first it was a little disconcerting. The way he’d climb into your bed in the middle of the night. How he once got in the bath with you (fully clothed and not understanding your shock). You never feel scared around him though, you know he’ll never hurt you. 

Thank you for reading!

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[cinnamonest]

Also on note of that “bone breaking” post I believe Xiao is an absolute menace to the innkeepers because of his inability to gauge human sickness and injury. He's thoroughly convinced any slight discomfort you experience is a near-death situation.

Human life is incredibly fragile. Their bodies are nearly unbelievably susceptible to death from even very mild injuries and sicknesses, they die so easily it's frightening. Which is why he has to be very vigilant with you.

You once got a bit nauseous from eating something a bit past expiry date — you insist it's just food poisoning over and over, but he practically drags you to a pharmacist anyway “just in case,” because there are many deadly pathogens and parasites humans can die from that begin this way, and you will drop dead before you even know something is wrong.

If you have a headache, it's probably an oncoming aneurysm that will cause sudden death. You may think you have a mere common cold, but he is well aware that many very dangerous and severe illnesses begin as symptoms of common colds, some of which progress so rapidly you may not have time to notice before sudden death.

You try to explain your throat hurts because what you ate is giving you heartburn, but if it has the word heart, which is a very vital organ, that can only mean you are at great risk of, you guessed it, sudden death.

More than once now you've been sleeping a little too deeply — your breaths are so slow that it looks like you're barely breathing at all, so he has to shake you awake to ensure you are still alive. Any cough or sneeze is met with this head-jerk in your direction and yellow eyes wide open staring in panic, and you have to swear up and down you just got swallowed the wrong way or inhaled some dust.

Not even period pains are safe — it's normal, so you insist, you can't hide your discomfort so you're all but begging him not to worry about it, but this one time he remembers about seven hundred years ago he once heard a villager mention a woman who had internal bleeding mistaken for just that and died, so it must be seen professionally (yes, each month). The whole concept bothers him — you're bleeding and in pain, those things are bad, how can you be sure it's the normal amount of bleeding and pain and not too much, that you're not actually five minutes away from dropping dead? That's right, you can't know, which is why you have to let him carry you to the harbor for the third time this week.

Injury is even worse — yes, he's aware that human flesh bruises easily, but this bruise is on your ribcage, and you don't recall how it got there, there are organs underneath there and you could very well be internally bleeding out.

Both innkeepers are, at this point, used to him coming bounding into the main lobby in full-fledged panic, demanding to hand over the emergency medical kit kept by the front desk so he can save you from bleeding out (you accidentally cut your finger on a splinter on the baseboard), and they no longer bat an eye or ask where you're going when he comes barging through carrying you (protesting, at that) out the door without a word before vanishing in the direction of the nearest village with a doctor… even when you try to get their help to please tell him I'm fine, they just ignore you at this point, knowing it's futile.

There's a death at the inn once — you try to be reasonable and explain that it was a very elderly and sickly man who most certainly died of natural causes, but see, you don't know for sure that he didn't have some kind of rare rapid-onset deadly illness that can spread from the bottom floor all the way up to where your room is, so it is imperative that you be disinfected professionally.

He annoys the doctors too — they're all used to it at this point too, but many of them are aware of him, and none of the humans really want to oppose or risk upsetting one of these beings they have a degree of reverence for, so much to your dismay, all of them continue to treat his concerns as legitimate, even though it's very blatantly clear to you that they're faking taking it seriously.

On the bright side, having some pity on your suffering perhaps (or being tired of dealing with the same thing over and over), the harbor pharmacist managed to convince him that an over-the-counter mild painkiller was a miracle cure for a wide variety of ailments, so unless you feel that you need more, he says, then that should be enough… which cuts down on the frequency of your unnecessary emergency care visits, but only somewhat.

At this point, surely at least one of the concerns has been legitimate, he has definitely saved your life more than once by now. And yet, you have not thanked him for this, you continue to be so naive to your own fragility and do nothing but complain about it when you literally owe him your life. Unbelievable.

But rest assured, your ungratefulness will not deter him from continuing to take the utmost care of you, he'll continue to save you, regardless of how unappreciated these life-saving efforts are.

[rentsturner]

You're a Sinking Stone - AT

Professor!Alex Turner x reader

Summary - Alex is acting strangely in class, you make a rash decision, a punishment goes wrong and angst ensues. Don’t like it = don’t read it. 18+ only, please read the warnings

Warnings - daddy kink/daddy issues, teacher-student relationship, Alex being mean, Alex fucks up, Alex is a hypocrite, nipple clamps, punishment, bdsm undertones, subspace, bad experience with subspace, jealousy, insecurity, miscommunication, pain kink, use of safe word, serious aftercare, pet names, angsty conversations, cuddling.

a/n: Ok so this is a JOINT piece written with my bestie @martinipoliz. We both contributed to this, I just have the privilege of posting it. She is an amazing writer and I think everyone should you check out her other AMAZING fics. Send her some love. We've been working on this for weeks, it means a lot to me. So thank you for reading!

Usually, class with Alex is the highlight of your day. Spending a few hours sending each other flirty

looks and admiring how animated he becomes when explaining a topic he is passionate about is something that you love.

But today, it’s not the same as usual. You’ve done something wrong, and you really don’t know what. 

Alex is ignoring you, completely ignoring you. He’s never been this dismissive before. Your shy eyelash bat doesn’t work on him. Even your puppy eyes, which usually have Alex melting, has absolutely no effect. You really don’t understand what his problem is, he hasn’t mentioned anything to you and now he’s acting like you don’t even exist, you may as well have not turned up to class. 

Your last straw is when you tug on the end of his suit, a common affectionate gesture between the two of you, but Alex just pulls his hand away and brushes you off like you're nothing. That’s when tears start to form in your eyes,  you let your gaze fall back to your desk.

“Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,” you mumble, gripping your pen dangerously tight as you try to avoid looking around as much as possible, especially trying to avoid the sight of Alex. Your mind starts racing through all the things you had done that day and you wonder where you’ve gone wrong, but nothing comes to mind. Perhaps you are forgetting about something. Perhaps you said something bad that got you into trouble and now he – you don’t even want to think about it, just the thought of upsetting Alex edges you closer to tears.

Then, you turn slightly to the left and see Alex praising another girl in your class. He’s bent over her shoulder, smiling brightly as she asks him questions, a complete contrast to the dismissive gaze he’d sent your way earlier. You don’t even want to attract Alex’s attention anymore, it makes  you feel pushy and clingy, and it’s just turning your mind to chaos, too many emotions fighting for space. A haze begins to descend onto you. 

As the tears begin to fall, something inside you snaps and you do something irrational. You get up and walk straight out of the class. 

You leave your books and pens sprawled out across your desk, walk past the other students gazing curiously at your shaking form and slam the door behind you. You can’t see Alex’s facial expression but you can imagine the shock spreading across his features. Never have you done something so insolent. 

But as soon as you lock yourself in an isolated toilet cubicle, you can tell you are already in subspace. You want nothing more than to be cradled and babied and held by Alex but clearly, he was too busy praising another girl to even pay attention to you – and it hurts. Your mind is swimming in confusion, thoughts and emotions clashing and whirring, you want the ground to swallow you up. 

After many deep breaths, the emotions in your head began to streamline, just a little, into something that feels a lot like anger and resolution.  

You pull yourself together and head back to the classroom, ready to just get on with the work, but Alex has already dismissed the class and is waiting by your desk, arms folded, glaring at you. 

“What’s gotten into you?” he quirks a brow.

“What’s gotten into me – no, what’s gotten into you,” you jab a finger his way accusingly, another wave of tears already forming in your eyes. So much for your resolve. “I don’t – I don’t know what I did to – to deserve this treatment but i would very much a–appreciate it if you just tell me, da–”

“Enough,” Alex snaps, unfolding his arms from his chest as he stands straight and tall, fixing the tie around his neck. “I don’t want to hear it. Go to your next class, and I expect to find you later in the bedroom naked and kneeling on the floor, alright?”

Your lips quivered. He didn’t even hear you calling him daddy. He doesn’t understand, he won’t even look at you. “But–”

“That mouth will seriously get you into further trouble, little one, so I suggest you shut it.”

You sit through the rest of your classes like a zombie, barely even concentrating on the work being set. You’re still trying to run the past few days through your head, trying to figure out where you’ve gone wrong, but again come up with nothing - the past few days have been domestic bliss living with Alex in his flat. The fog descending on your mind again doesn’t help you focus either, it’s like running through thick mud in the pouring rain. Eventually you give up and completely zone out for the rest of the class. 

When you finally leave, you consider going back to your flat, but then decide to head to Alex’s instead and follow his instructions. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t wanna piss him off any further. You at least want to plead your case and show him that what you did back in the class was justifiable and hopefully have the voice to ask him to consider your actions.

You trudge alone back to Alex’s house with blurry vision, shaking, partly from the cold and partly from the ache in your heart. You can only hope that pleasing Alex will make things right, so once you’ve unlocked the door (with the spare key Alex had cut for you) and kicked off your shoes, you head up to the bedroom. You strip and fold your clothes neatly, the way Alex likes it, and take your familiar place at the foot of the bed. The sensation of your bare knees on the plush carpet helps to ground you. You close your eyes and wait.

The click of the front door breaks you out of your daze and alerts you to Alex arriving home. You hear him fumbling around with keys and then the clang of a glass before his footsteps finally echo up the stairs. 

His figure comes into view - his suit jacket must have been discarded somewhere downstairs, now he only wears his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins prominent along his pale arms. He holds a glass of whiskey in one hand. His dark eyes meet yours, and you see then he’s in the same mood as earlier. 

“Have you been crying?” 

You can only sniffle, then nod your head.

“Well, that’s too bad. Looks like you’re going to be crying more tonight.”

Alex throws the amber liquid down his throat in one easy gulp, then sets the glass down firmly on the bedside table. He reaches down to the top drawer - your ‘entertainment’ drawer. 

When his hand pulls back from the drawer, some dangling slivers of metal come out with it. The anticipation of what Alex might do to you sits heavily in your stomach and you crane your head to get a better look at what’s in his hand. Fuck. Nipple clamps. You shiver at the mere sight of them. You’ve only used them a few times before and, sure, they made you feel amazingly sensitive, but it hurt like hell at the start. 

The thought of the pain about to be inflicted on you makes your pulse race in excitement, but you also doubt if you can take it with everything that you’ve already been through today. Really, all you want is for Alex to hold you and tell you you’re ok, that he never meant to dismiss you or shout. You heave in a deep breath, trying to make sense of the emotions clouding your head. It’s so hard to see through the fog. 

You’re tempted to end it there and then, before the scene can go any further, but out of desperation to please Alex, you remain silent. You choke back the sobs threatening to spill, and you obediently keep your hands behind your back as you kneel silently on the floor. 

There’s a beat of silence when he stops in front of you, letting the metal clamps dangle in your line of vision for no reason other than to taunt you, and you swear you almost fail to keep your tears at bay when you hear him chuckle at the pitiful sight of you.

“Think those nipples deserve to be clamped tonight, don’t they? For the shit you pulled earlier, I think you deserve  much worse than nipple clamps, but as I’m feeling so kind and generous, I’ll just do this instead.”

Alex’s mean words don’t help your situation at all. 

You let the mask slip a little bit when a sob escapes from your lips, but it’s ignored by Alex, who’s now settling down to kneel in front of you. You’re both in the same position, kneeling opposite each on the floor, but it’s so obvious who’s in charge here. Alex hasn’t even taken his loafers off, whereas you’re entirely stripped, only the chain that Alex bought you to match his adorning your neck. Your gaze lowers to Alex’s crotch, a tent becoming increasingly obvious in his pants. 

His free hand moves to grab one of your breasts, running his calloused fingertips over your nipple, coaxing it to get harder. He leans his head down before running the flat of his tongue over the same nipple. You gasp at the sensation, your eyes widening as Alex then takes your bud between his teeth and nips, before running his tongue back over it. 

“Got to get these nice and hard for me, so responsive, you love this, don’t you? You fucking love me punishing you,” he mutters around your skin as he repeats the treatment on your other breast. 

You whine helplessly, arousal pooling in your stomach, mixing with the fear and anticipation.

Finally, Alex pulls back from your nipple with an audible pop, his eyes even darker than before. Your teary gaze meets his and for a moment you think he sees you, sees how quickly you’re dropping, how much you need his love. You’re so caught up in his stare that you fail to notice his hand bringing the clamp up to your chest. As the metal clips harshly around your first nipple, you scream.

You almost get up from the sheer pain, your hands flying up from your back to hold Alex by the arm, so desperately needing his  support, but he harshly pulls his arm away, “Bad girls don’t get to touch. Hold still.” 

He clips on the second clamp quickly, before giving both of them a firm tug, making sure they’re secure. A jolt runs through you as he does so, going straight to your cunt, and straight to your head and that’s when you let the tears fall. It’s all too much, you don’t know whether to moan or scream again. Instead you just sob pathetically and shake your head, trying to avoid Alex’s inscrutable gaze. 

If you weren’t so stressed, confused and deep into subspace right now, you would be turned on by the sheer humiliation and pain from the nipple clamps, but right now you just can’t. 

Your hands itch to pull the metal away but your lips only quiver, knowing you can’t do anything but endure it. Your face is wet with tears, and you’re already drooling down your chest from the way you’re sobbing hysterically.

Your mouth opens to speak, but before a word even comes out, one of Alex’s hands flies to tap you on the cheek. It’s not hard, but it’s firm enough to make you sink deeper into subspace. You let your gaze just fall back on the floor and try to let your head float away. 

The pain your nipples are feeling is immeasurable. Your fists curl tightly into your lap, but that only makes Alex chuckle. “Aw, you’re mad at me, baby? You’re mad at me for punishing you like this? Like you deserve?”

Every word just cuts deeper into the already open wound in your heart and sends your mind spinning further into chaos. You can’t stop your head from shaking in disagreement.

“No, you know you deserve this. Fucking swearing at me in my classroom? You think you’ve got the upper hand now, huh, baby? You think you can just walk out of the room and have me worry in there for the rest of the hour? You think you’re in control now? Well, just in case you’re forgetting, baby, I’ll gladly show you who’s really in charge now.”

As Alex goes to unbuckle his belt, your eyes go wide. The sound of the metal clanging together sends your mind into even more panic, wondering what the fuck he’s going to do.

One, he’s going to fuck you until you cry even more. Two, he’s going to belt your arse until you won’t be able to sit properly for the next week. 

These options that would usually have you weak at the knees and dripping wet, are sounding just - awful. They both sound awful. You can’t do this, not in your current state of mind. You just want a hug, you just want Alex. 

Your Alex.

Your head cranks up to finally let the word tumble out of your mouth, out of pure fear and pain.

“Peaches, Daddy– peaches, please, p–peaches – I don’t want – I don’t want anymore, Daddy, peaches –”

As the words repeatedly slip out of your mouth, Alex’s face drops. Shit. Now he sees, now he realises that you weren’t playing, you weren’t winding him up on purpose, that all this time you were upset and in subspace and now he feels so guilty, so awful for not noticing. His heart just sinks.  

Alex’s hands go to pull the clamps away immediately, not caring about gentleness, just knowing that you need them off, right now. He drops to his knees to grab you by the arms, letting your head fall forward onto his shoulder as another wave of tears comes crashing down. This time, you don’t hold them back. Alex knows he can’t panic, not when you’re in pain like this, when you need him to help you, but as he looks at your pure state of desperation, eyes glazed with tears, whole body shaking, too deep into subspace for him to just be able to pull you out with one snap of his fingers – Alex’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

“Baby, baby, shit–”

“Daddy, peaches, please – please, don’t want i–it anymore, Daddy, I don’t want it –”

“It’s okay, baby, I got you, I got you –” he says breathlessly, pulling you into his chest as he buries his face in your hair. “Daddy’s got you, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry – Daddy’s sorry, okay? I didn’t – I didn’t mean it, baby, please –”

Never once in his life has Alex stuttered, but right now he can’t care less. Right now all he cares about is you. 

You pant and cry into his chest, soaking his dress shirt with your tears but you’re too far gone to care. The emotions that have been building up all day finally pour out of you. 

Alex holds your shaking hands in his larger ones, rubbing your skin gently with his thumbs, back and forth, back and forth, the familiar rhythm calming you a little, but you’re still sobbing and hiccuping into his chest. Alex is really worried now, the guilt churning in his stomach, regretting his lack of care earlier. He wishes he could take it all back now, he really could. He never meant to hurt you. But it’s too late.

Alex pulls away slightly and you grab onto his shirt in panic, trying to bring him back to you, but he shushes you gently, placing one strong hand under your thighs, the other holding you to his chest. In seconds, he picks you up and walks you to the bed, setting you down carefully by the pillows, lying down and letting you curl into his chest. 

“It’s ok, baby, it’s ok now, I promise.”

You still don’t have the strength to talk, all you can do is let a whimper slip out of your mouth. Alex presses kisses to your hairline, then a kiss  to your nose, then your cheeks. When he pulls back and you look at him, you think you can see tears in his eyes, but you can’t be sure what you're seeing through your own blurry gaze, tears still trickling slowly down your cheeks, so you ignore it. A small voice in the back of your mind tells you that Alex must still be annoyed with you. You bury your head back into his chest. 

“What do you need, baby? What do you need me to do?”

“Just – just hold me, Al, please, sir, need you to hold me.”

Alex pulls back, unwrapping his arms from you, and you look up in horror – you just told him that you need him to hold you, and now he’s moving away? But then you realise he’s hurriedly undoing his shirt buttons and pulling the material off his shoulders, before standing up to pull off his trousers, shoes and socks, until he’s left just in his boxers. 

You sigh in relief. He does know what you want. 

As he pulls you back into his chest, you breathe in his familiar scent - woody, spice, smoke and Alex. You relish in the feeling of his warm skin against yours, letting him wrap his arms around your shaking form. 

“I’m here, love, I’m right here.”

You feel his heartbeat thud in time with yours, fast and rapid from panicking from the use of your safe-word. You must’ve scared the shit out of him, but then again, he scared the shit out of you too. 

You two stay like that for a moment. Head on his chest and arms wrapped around his torso, and the heat radiating from his body calms you down to a different level you can’t quite put your finger on, but it’s calming and it's Alex and that’s all that matters. 

“You okay now, baby?” His deep voice snaps you out of your headspace and you feel his large hand carefully threading through  your hair. “Can you take deep breaths for me, darling? Can you do that?”

You slowly peel your head away from his chest. You’re calm now but still hiccuping from the sobs earlier, so Alex takes a hold of your hands in his, engulfing them whole in his palms. 

“Okay. Take deep breaths with me, alright? You follow me, hm?” Then he sees that familiar glint in your eyes when it takes a second for you to nod and it shows that you’re still deep in subspace. Alex sighs softly. “Baby. Can you hear me, baby?”

You only nod again, eyes feeling droopy and heavy, and Alex frowns.

“What do you need to do?”

“Deep breaths, daddy.”

“That’s right, good girl, you take deep breaths with daddy, alright?” He praises you in a soft voice, a small smile creeping its way on his face to know that you’re still listening despite your head being somewhere else. “Alright, let’s do this. You ready?”

Seeing your small smile as you nod is enough to bring reassurance to Alex. 

“Inhale,” he says, and you obey, taking in a deep breath. “Exhale.”

You breathe out slowly, still hiccuping, but no longer shaking. 

“Good girl, you’re doing so well.” Alex’s small smile encourages you to keep going, breathing in and out. Alex grabs your hand and splays it flat against his chest, so you feel his chest rising and falling in tandem with yours. “I’m right here, yeah? Right here.”

Alex lets you breathe slowly with him for a few minutes. He’s no longer panicking, but he is worried – how did he manage to misread the situation so badly? It’s not like he hasn’t ‘punished’ you before and you’d both agreed before that it was something you both enjoyed. But today went wrong, badly wrong. 

Now the fog is clearing from your head a little, each deep breath in and out helping ground you a little, along with the feel of Alex’s hot skin pressed against yours. You feel a rumble in his chest as he speaks.

“Baby? You back with me yet?”

“Yeah, yeah,  I think so.” You look at him the best you can while your bodies are still squashed together. His face looks pained, the stress lines on his forehead more pronounced than usual, his eyes dull. 

“Al?”

“Yes, darling?” He knows what’s coming.

“Why–” You have to stop and take in another deep breath. “Why did you act like that before?”

Alex sighs and rubs a hand over his face. 

“I’m so sorry, baby, I really fucked up, I really did. I saw you talking to that guy, the one that you used to go out with and I just –”

Oh.

Ryan, that guy. He approached you earlier in the hallway to ask for your opinions about his paper, and you didn’t think twice of agreeing. He’s a nice guy, really, and you respect him for that. But you still can’t ignore the fact that he still tries to shoot his shot with you despite turning him down several times.

You two shared a past, sure. You agreed to go out with him several times in your first year, but only because you were naive and desperate to experience what going out with somebody feels like, and Ryan was the first ever guy to make that dream of yours come true. But one thing led to another, you realised that you two just aren’t… compatible.

You didn’t have anyone after Ryan, not until Alex came in the picture. 

You respectfully broke whatever was happening with Ryan then, but even now he still struggles to hide his feelings whenever you’re near – and really, you’re flattered. Even though he knows that there’s no chance of getting back together with you, he still tries. 

Like earlier, for example.

He ran into you in the hallway, arm around your shoulder and bodies close together. He was showing you his paper and asked for your opinions, and you really didn’t think much of his gestures other than being friendly. Ryan was always like that, touchy with everyone, and you aren’t an exception.

“You really outdid yourself with this one, Ry,” you had smiled, patting him on the shoulder as he held up the papers in front of you.

“Thanks. I learned from the best, you see.”

His fingers went to pinch your cheek lightly and you froze. Not because of the action, but because in the corner of your eye, you saw Alex standing still outside of his classroom, hands inside his pocket and staring directly at the two of you.

You couldn’t see his face or his expression so you didn’t think much of it, but if you were to see it, you would’ve known that his face held a snarl and he was fighting every urge to stalk towards you and pulled you away from Ryan’s grip.

Disgust, is one way to put it – what Alex was feeling in that moment. Disgust, then anger. He was already pissed about certain things; the amount of essays he had to mark and pressure on him from the governor’s board, and seeing you getting smooched at by another guy made him want to bash someone’s head on the wall.

Specifically, Ryan’s head.

But then again, Alex is a teacher, and Ryan is a student – so are you, but you’re not just any student – and he can’t really pull a student aside and whack him on the head for flirting with his fucking girlfriend.

You realise now what had happened, though, you just wish that Alex would’ve told what the problem was earlier rather than making you figure it out yourself. 

“But, Al, we were just talking about homework, and you know what he’s like, so touchy with everyone. You know I wouldn’t ever–”

“I know, love, I know you wouldn’t, but I just saw it and it went straight to my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I just got so…so angry. I shouldn’t have, I know, but I did. And then I was so caught up in my own emotions, I didn’t see how uncomfortable you were. I’m sorry, so so sorry.”

He buries his face into your neck, letting out a strangled sob. You run your hand through his hair soothingly, before tugging it a little to get him to look at you. His gaze meets yours and you know then that he really is sorry, you can see it from the pain in his eyes.

“It’s ok,” you whisper, Alex goes to protest but you place a finger on his lips, shushing him. “Honestly. It’s ok now. I can’t say I haven't ever felt that way watching you talk to other girls, so I know how you felt. But please just. Don’t do that again. Be so dismissive. I hated it.”

“I know, I realise that now, I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. Ever. I’m sorry.”

You chuckle quietly. “You’re gonna have to stop apologising at some point, you know? I forgive you.”

Alex gives a small smile and you’re relieved to see his eyes have brightened a little. “Can I make it up to you another way instead?” His hand reaches up to stroke through your hair gently, teasing out some of the tangles and smoothing them down. 

You reach up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I can think of many, many ways that you can make it up to me, don’t worry about that.”

You both giggle, Alex’s hands moving down to your sides to tickle you playfully, but you slap his chest gently before it can go too far. 

“None of that now, I just want to cuddle.” You pout at him, giving him your best puppy eyes.

“That I can do, darling.” Alex murmurs with a smile, pulling you back into his chest with strong arms and tangling your legs together. He pulls the blanket up over the both of you, making sure you’re tucked in comfortably.

Alex hooks his chin over your shoulder and you  nuzzle happily  into his neck with a whine. All is well again.

thanks for reading, hope yous enjoyed :)

[stupidvillainousposts]

I Giveth to You, Werewolf Ford Being Yelled at By Children!

Fidds, using a wet cloth to clean Stan's wounds: There ya go, hon. Just a little bit cleaner and we can get some coverin' on it, 'kay?

Stan: *Groans and Nods* Just get it over with.

Fidds: *Sighs* Oh, my poor darlin'.

Tate, entering the room: Uh, Pop? Stan? I think one o' the pups got too rowdy with a squirrel or somethin'. There's a whole lotta blood on the... walls...

Fidds: Now, Tate, I know this looks bad, but I promise Ford didn't mean nothin' by it.

Tate: Wait, Stanford did this? Stan, yer own brother did this t' ya?!

Stan, tiredly: It's Werewolf Law, kid. The stronger pack members are allowed to fight for the position of pack leader. Besides, he coulda banished me, then I'd really be S.O.L.

Tate, seething: He shouldn'ta fought ya at all! What kinda siblin' does somethin' like that?!

Stan, attempting to sit up: One acting on instinct; don't get so worked up, I'm feeling- FUCK! *Falls Flat Onto the Bed in Pain* Shit, guess I forgot about the bites.

Tate: *Turns and Storms Away to Find Ford*

Fidds: TATE!

Stan: Let him go, Honey Bunches. Hearing Ford get snapped at by a kid actually sounds kinda funny.

Fidds: *Groans* Stanley...

-Downstairs-

Tate: *Sees Ford Talking to Soos and Wendy About Cleaning the Lobby* YOU!

Ford, under his breath: Ah, crap. This kid? *To Tate* What do you want? I've got important matters to take care of.

Tate: Yeah, like pretending all o' this damage wasn't yer fault!

Wendy: Whoa, dude; that's a bit of a huge assumption.

Tate: Not an "assumption" if Stan himself told me what happened! You and yer stupid "Werewolf Law"! It's just an excuse t' attack Stan at his lowest and you know it!

Wendy: Tate, what are you talking about?

Soos: Yeah, little dude, those are big accusations.

Tate: Ya think I'm lyin'?! Go upstairs and see fer yerself! My dad can barely sit up without bein' in pain! Got blood runnin' down his neck and stainin' Pop's hands! And all so what? Ya could take head o' the family?!

Ford: Tate, if it was that simple of a construct I wouldn't have had to do what I did.

Wendy: Wait, what? So you did hurt Stan?

Tate: YES! Nearly killed him!

Ford: THAT BITE BARELY NICKED HIS JUGULAR! *Realizes His Mistake and Groans* No, I didn't mean- Just, let me explain-

Wendy: Explain what?! How upset you are that he's still alive?!

Ford: How dare you?! I would NEVER-

Tate: Try and kill yer brother? Tell that to the one who's bleedin' out rivers o' blood!

Fidds: Children, that is ENOUGH!

Tate and Wendy: *Go Silent*

Fidds: Soos, take the children outside so they can calm down.

Soos: But Dad Fidds-

Fidds: Jesus Ramirez, do NOT make me ask ya again!

Soos, surprised but understanding: Yeah. Y-yeah, okay. Sorry. *Leads Tate and Wendy Outside*

Fidds, once the other are outside: Look, I don't want anymore fights breakin' out, so as long as ya can learn t' walk away when the kids provoke ya fer any reason, ya can stay here.

Ford: What? This is my pack, you can't just-

Fidds: *Turns Into a Giant Bat and Screeches*

Ford, cowering slightly: Uh, yeah, uh-huh. Got it. Loud and clear.

Fidds, returning to his normal form: Good. Now go find some supplies and clean the lobby. I don't like lookin' at my own fiancé's blood splatterin' the walls.

[dracarialove]

Love Letter

Shadow gets injured after a treasure hunt and accidentally upsets Rouge when trying to banter with her. When she brings him to her club to rest, he decides to make it up to her by writing a heartfelt letter.

Ship: Shadow/Rouge

*Originally published October 23rd, 2024

A/N: This is a oneshot originally written for the Shadougetober event; something short and sweet for my favorite prompt!

Echoing footsteps bounced a steady melody off the stone walls of a cave. A pair of silver heels clicked below their light-footed owner, louder from their shape than the muffled clunks of heavier skates just a few yards behind.

It was Rouge the Bat leading a walk through a rocky tunnel, her arms occupied by two bags filled with jewels; her body language spirited as wide hips swayed with every step and ivory curls bounced above her shoulders.

Shadow the Hedgehog trailed her backside at a casual pace, looking ahead at the opening where they'd entered the cave, and at the grassy plains that awaited their return from a treasure hunt.

Rouge's voice echoed when she spoke, "You know, I could use some help organizing all these gems. How about you come over after my club closes and we can spend some time getting them sorted? It'll be relaxing."

Shadow thought about her proposal, his interest in organizing jewels less than a whisper; but quiet time spent with his teammate was becoming more and more enjoyable. He felt a warm glimmer in his chest at the idea.

"Sure," he answered, glancing over her form as she gleefully walked ahead.

His eyes left her when falling pebbles caught his attention – at the mouth of the cave, they tumbled from above. When a larger rock fell to the ground, he got a bad feeling, and quickened his pace. Rouge noticed it too, speeding up as well.

"Rocks falling," she said over her shoulder. "Not a good sign!"

Then they heard the rumble of stone shifting along the earth. There were boulders piled above the entrance of the cavern, but they'd been stagnant when the pair first went in.

Now it seemed they were loosened from their rest and were rolling down the slope; they would fall off the cave's roof at any moment. Shadow looked up and saw the rounded edge of a boulder creeping into view past the stone opening. They wouldn't make it if he didn't speed ahead.

So, the hedgehog broke into a sprint, and as Rouge was nearing the exit – the sliding rock on a clear path to flatten her – Shadow positioned both hands to grab her lower back, lifting the bat enough to shove her more quickly out of the cave.

He jumped ahead after her, but making sure his partner got out first had slowed him down. As he was lunging forward, the boulder crashed down onto his legs, pinning Shadow under its weight.

"Aghh!" he shouted, gritting his teeth and looking back at the big round stone that immobilized him.

Rouge had stumbled onto the grass after Shadow's push, dropping the bags of jewels and scattering them across the ground. She was standing up when she heard the crash behind her, and Shadow's subsequent scream made her turn around in a panic.

"Shadow!" she yelled, and ran to his side, even as smaller boulders rolled off the hill to the left and right.

Shock and concern covered her face as she switched her focus from the speedster to the stone. She slipped both hands beneath it and groaned as she tried to lift it up. Shadow was grunting under his breath, but the pain wasn't so great as to make him scream again.

"Damnit!" Rouge blurted with a huff, backing away from the rock. "I'll have to cut this thing into smaller chunks. Cover your head in case pieces go flying!"

He did, draping one arm above him while she reeled back. The jewel hunter spun into a tornado of swift, powerful kicks strong and sharp enough to crack the boulder apart. Once it was in more manageable segments, she rushed to throw the battered chunks off of Shadow's body.

He moved his legs with little effort, albeit slowly as an ache permeated his muscles; then he let out a sigh. "It's a good thing I'm so resilient. Otherwise, that could've caused permanent damage. We should be more careful."

He didn't bring up the worst of permanent damage that could've been done – damage to Rouge, if she'd been the one crushed. Considering the injury to his legs only meant he would have to take it easy for a few days, he felt the responsibility to take hits like that, especially if it was in Rouge's place.

"Well, I think I've got enough jewels to keep me satisfied a while," said the lady, wrapping her hands around his figure to help him stand. "So, we can take a good long break from treasure hunting."

Shadow rested one arm in the crook of her neck, letting Rouge hold him up while he felt out the remaining strength of his legs. He was fine enough to walk with her assistance, and he helped her to gather the gems back into their bags before they set a course for home.

As they crossed the plains, the spy looked back at the cave they were leaving behind, then let out a soothing breath and offered Shadow an uneven smile.

"Nice job pushing me out of there. Even if it meant I got grass stains all over me. Your heroism really comes out sometimes."

"Hm, yeah," he mumbled. "Well, I had to if I wanted us to actually escape."

"Right." Her voice had a playful tinge, trying to lighten the mood and maybe distract him from his injury. "Still! That's our dynamic, isn't it? You save me, I save you."

"I suppose so. Although, if we could cut down on needing to save each other, that would be nice. Risking our lives should be a rarity, not a pastime."

"Okay, fair enough. But, you haven't thanked me yet for helping you out back there."

Shadow looked into her eyes, then cast his gaze forward again. "Thanks. Just remember this the next time you want to go excavating."

Rouge scoffed. "That's what you focus on? You know, you could've complimented me on my skill in freeing you. Without me, you would've been trapped under that rock forever!"

"Never mind that without you, I wouldn't have been there at all." He flashed a smirk when she pouted at him. "But I suppose you evened the score – if I'm being generous."

Rouge's teal eyes rolled and her voice lost its charming quality. "Alright, Shad. I carved up that boulder expertly, but you still can't just give me a compliment after all this time, can you?"

The colder tone she spoke with forced the realization on him that he'd offended her. His natural frown deepened into a glower and he tried to recover by responding with, "Yes I can. You did help me out back there. You know I respect you for that, right?"

He caught her eyes quickly rolling again, the irritated woman clearly not impressed by his attempt to salvage goodwill from the flippant banter that'd turned his quip into an insult.

She didn't reply further, and their conversation trailed off into nothingness following his claim. They walked through the plains, Rouge helping him to stay upright while simultaneously managing to lug her bags of precious jewels.

At the wordless acknowledgement that he'd misspoken at some point, Shadow let the silence be, in turn refusing to prod at the annoyance she was carrying.

He hadn't realized that neglecting to indulge her desire for a compliment would genuinely upset her; his past attempts at teasing had been more successful.

But maybe he was teasing her too much lately, falling behind on showing true appreciation for her talents. And maybe that was catching up with him now.

***

The wounded hedgehog was brought to Club Rouge, where his partner would let him rest even if she was a bit miffed at him. Before they went inside the bustling business, Shadow looked into her eyes earnestly and spoke a thought he'd been mulling over the whole way back.

"Thank you for carrying my weight." He wanted to add more, but his pride was nudging in, getting in the way of putting proper emphasis behind his thanks. He glanced down at the bags of gems in Rouge's grasp and raised a hand towards them. "I can bring these in, if you want; lighten your load after our long walk."

The bat turned her body, pulling the shiny haul away from his reaching fingers, and one brow curved downwards. Thankfully, her tone was more agreeable than he expected when she said, "You don't have to do that! It's a gentlemanly gesture, but I'll carry the babies myself."

Her eyes were friendly, but the smile she gave him was subtle and trepidatious – full of tension that still signaled she wasn't fully over her frustration with him.

He relented, though, not wanting to push her, and instead tried to avoid leaning as much of his weight on her while she walked through Club Rouge.

On the second floor, they entered the private lounge, where the jewel hunter placed the bags on a table and flew up to the ceiling to open her attic door.

"You can relax in my loft for now," she said, pushing a wooden slab inward to open a rectangular entryway. "Stay as long as you need to heal those legs. The spare bed is still set up."

Gazing up at her, Shadow felt a flutter in his stomach. Something about the way she offered her personal space so casually made his heart warm.

It spoke to the closeness of their relationship, and a wave of graciousness passed over him at the fact that she had kept her spare bed available; as if she anticipated him needing it again soon.

It was nice to have an open bed where he was always welcome, something Shadow was focusing on more now that he fixated on Rouge's kindness. She was never so generous with anyone else.

"I don't have to rest right now," he claimed, then gestured at the gems when she looked down at him. "I can still help you sort these."

A little chuckle left her lips and she descended to the floor. "Don't worry about that, hun. I'll handle it." She stepped behind him and hooked her arms under his, lifting her friend off the ground before he could protest.

"You just lie down and take a minute for yourself," she told him, bringing him into her loft space.

She set him down and offered a lingering gaze, as if considering the conversation they should be having. But Shadow didn't know quite how to respond, and when he said nothing, she left the attic, closing the heavy hatch behind her.

It was after she was gone that Shadow reflected on his actions – as well as his inaction – and considered the way he'd spoken to her outside the cave.

Sitting on the spare bed, he thought back to the roll of her eyes, the tense pull of her lips, and the annoyance in her voice. He started to feel bad about what he'd said, and began regretting that he'd chosen to banter with her instead of donating the complimentary words she deserved.

He sorted through his thoughts to admit to himself that there were too many things being left unsaid. And he decided he needed to make it up to her somehow, in a deeply genuine way.

***

The next day met Rouge with a strange loneliness. When she woke up, she looked to the bed Shadow was assumed to still be sleeping in, only to see it empty. It was made up, the blanket laying neatly on top, as if he had gotten up much earlier than her and tidied it before leaving.

Rouge nibbled uneasily on her bare lip at what it meant: either Shadow would be gone from the club, having walked out without saying goodbye; or he would still be around, and she would have to face him.

Rouge disliked both ideas, not wanting her partner to avoid her, but also feeling a linger of annoyance. Usually, the hedgehog's inability to toss a compliment her way didn't bother her. She knew he was no-nonsense most of the time – closed off.

But there were also times when she thought he was letting her in, and hiding less from the connection they had. She didn't like being reminded that there still might be a long way to go in that regard.

She left her bed and dressed herself up for the day, then decided she needed a distraction from the off-feeling the morning had brought her. She wouldn't go looking for Shadow; if he was still there, they would cross paths at some point.

Instead, she turned her musings to the stash of jewels she had yet to finish sorting. If there was one thing that could take her mind off of her uncomfortable emotions, it was precious gemstones.

But when she left her loft space, she found her attention unintentionally drawn as she descended elegantly into her private lounge.

There was something resting on the indigo loveseat – a white envelope with a heart-shaped splotch of red ink stamped on its fold. Bewildered, Rouge picked up the flimsy paper and felt the beat in her chest quicken.

The bat figured it must be from Shadow if it was in her personal lounge, though she couldn't pinpoint why there would be a heart on it if he had left it for her. The envelope alone would do; would be standard for someone as business-oriented as him.

She didn't want to think it might be a sign of something deep or emotional – something she would want from him – because she didn't want to disappoint herself. The stamp could mean nothing at all.

She hesitated to open the envelope, at first unsure if she wanted to deal with the contents inside. But, she decided she might as well get it over with, and so unstuck the fold of the envelope, opening it to pull a letter from the slit.

With stiff posture and a cautious expression on her face, she began reading the words that boasted Shadow's bland, neat handwriting.

Rouge,

Forgive me for not being able to say this in person, although I certainly wanted to. Yesterday, I failed to acknowledge your skill through a lack of grace in putting my thoughts into words. So I'm writing them down, with time to think, and the conviction that this is what I really want to say. This might not sound like me, but know that my heart is more articulate than my mouth.

Her shoulders relaxed a bit with the realization that Shadow probably wrote the letter to apologize, and maybe even make up for the praise he failed to give her before. Her eyebrows smoothened as she continued reading.

Saying I respect you wasn't a good enough compliment. It's more than that – I adore you. You're the best company I've ever had, and I feel a true friend in you. Stronger than that, I feel a connection between us that I believe could only be shared by fate-bound souls. It may sound dramatic, but it's how I really feel about you.

A smile cracked across her muzzle. It wasn't an "I'm sorry" type of apology, but she knew this acknowledgement of his mistake held the same message. Rouge had always felt her sincerest bond was with Shadow, so it meant everything to her that he was admitting it as well.

It wasn't dramatic; it was sweet, and thoughtful… even a bit romantic. And as she kept scanning shimmering teal eyes across the letter, she found herself more and more surprised by the words the Ultimate Lifeform had written himself.

We were meant to be in each other's lives. I wouldn't have anyone else in this world as my partner above you. And I'd even go as far as to say I love you. Though, understand I may never be able to say it to your face. Just know through this letter that it's true.

I love you

- Shadow

Widened with awe, her eyes lingered on the closing sentiment. Three sweet words hanging above the mark of her sender; the name that was signed by hand with a bit more character than the rest of the letter.

Together, they suggested a permanent change to the things Rouge knew about Shadow. His deeper truths were always a mystery, but she never expected this to be one of them.

'I love you'?

She'd never heard him say it to anyone or anything. She couldn't remember if the word 'love' had ever left his lips at all. Of course, it still wasn't being said – it was written, sitting printed clear as day on a sheet of paper addressed to her.

Endeared by his heartfelt words, Rouge hugged the letter to her chest, forgiving his silly mistake and feeling she'd been a bit petty about it. She forgot at times that Shadow still had trouble expressing himself, and it reminded her that he'd come a long way already.

Clearly he thought highly of her, even if he couldn't verbalize it as well. And she cherished the explanation, the penned delve into her partner's emotions; his beliefs; his standing with her. His soul was deeper than she knew. It was beautiful. He was beautiful – poetic.

'I love you'

He'd never be able to say it to her face. She expected that. And she accepted it so readily because she didn't know how she would react if he ever did admit it out loud.

It was a surprising but welcome confession, one she couldn't help but blush at when she considered the romantic undertones of the letter and the red heart stamped on its envelope.

It brought out a realization within herself. She loved him too, in a way more than mere friendship could convey; in the way that made her heart flutter at the thought of him.

She was glad he seemed to have taken his leave, not sure if she could handle looking Shadow in the eyes after reading such a vulnerable message.

It also gave her time – and privacy – to mull over his words some more, and absorb the plain but pretty pen strokes into her memory as a new step being taken for their relationship.

Shadow had to know those three words couldn't be taken back. And they were written in permanent ink. He meant it.

Rouge held out the paper again, her smile so naturally wide that she couldn't suppress it even if she wanted to. In the quiet luxury of her private lounge, she sat on the loveseat to read Shadow's letter again, blissfully consuming the sentimental heft of his tender admission a second time.

[volpeenthusiast]

three’s a crowd ⚾︎ a. volpe + a. wells

three's a crowd, but anthony and austin think they can make room. wooaaah okay this got away from me a bit. sequel of sorts to this. if anybody wants it i would looovveee to write more fics from this universe

The next time the three of you are together is after Austin hits a home run.

You're on third, and Anthony on first. You'd stolen a base when you were feeling ballsy, and you could feel Boone's eyes on you from the dugout when you almost got tagged.

You know Austin's going to hit a big one, somehow, you just know. He had fouled away about three balls, and you feel yourself rise up on your toes. The crack of the bat feels deafening against the roar of the crowd and the first baseman yelling at the pitcher to pick Anthony off.

You watch it fly for a moment, jogging home with Anthony on your tail and the cheering of the fans all around you. You and Anthony wait for Austin to bring it home, and you embrace the both of them before you even think about it.

You're laughing, a grin splitting your face as the three of you jump around. You don't take too long- Oswaldo is on deck, and the pitcher from the opposing team looks like he wants to throw a fastball right between your eyes.

The three of you file into the dugout, accepting high fives from the team as you put your batting helmet and gloves away. Austin and Anthony are rambling to each other so quickly you barely catch it.

You watch them for a moment, allowing yourself to catch your breath. It startles you to realize that you don't feel left out. You're on the outside looking in, but you're also on the inside. They turn to you, still beaming, and you feel yourself exhale a laugh.

"You're insane," you comment, squeezing Austin's shoulder. You want to do more, but this feels like it can be enough for now.

You're startled when he yanks you into a hug, but you reciprocate immediately. You'd been spending all of your nights alone, privately begging Boone not to room you with Austin or Anthony for a while. He'd complied, but you got the feeling that he wasn't amused by your weird requests.

You don't even realize your eyes are closed until you open them and see Anthony watching.

You become acutely aware of how hot it is in the dugout. You're sweating, Austin's sweating, and you can see the glare on Anthony's forehead. It should be gross, but it feels grounding. You don't notice that at first, though.

You see the way he looks at you and Austin, surely mirroring you just moments ago. It's not anxious or upset like you felt it was in the series against the Rangers.

It's a quiet, painful yearning. It feels like your skin is on fire, and all you can do is stand there and let it consume you. Your ribs hurt, though you haven't been hit, and you get the feeling that Anthony must feel the same. You begin to reach your hand out, almost willing him to be with you and Austin.

You're snapped out of your reverie when Jazz comes barreling towards the three of you. You drop your hand and disentangle yourself from Austin. You're inwardly grateful for the interruption, beaming at your second baseman as he talks to you about his stance.

If you notice Anthony and Austin staring at you the rest of the night, you don't say anything.

You stand outside of their hotel room for ten minutes before knocking.

It's tentative, and as soon as you do it you want to bolt down the hallway. You consider it, but you hear Anthony's voice from inside and find yourself waiting until the door creaks open.

He looks surprised to see you, but he smiles anyway. You find yourself smiling too, and some of the weight lifts off of your chest. He steps aside to let you in, and you toe your shoes off.

He tucks his hands into his sweatpants, looking unsure. You hate it.

Never have the three of you been this disconnected. You always managed to be in tune, no matter what it was. Timing on a swing, favorite ice cream flavor, playlist for a long drive.

You just understood them. You knew that they understood you too, with all of your eccentricities and habits.

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Anthony comes to sit next to you. You exhale, tucking some hair behind your ear. Judging by the sounds of the sink in the bathroom, Austin will be joining you soon.

"I'm sorry," he begins, looking like a kicked puppy, "if we did something to upset you. We've... I've really missed you. We miss you."

Before you get a chance to respond, Austin is sitting on the bed next to you. You nearly leap out of your skin, rubbing at your eyes with your fingers as you try to piece together what Anthony said.

"It's okay," you settle on, though you all know it's not okay. "I've just been off lately. Not your fault."

"Then talk to us about it," Austin interjects. "Let us fix it."

You want to snap back that they can't. There's nothing they could possibly do to fix the ugly, brooding monster in your chest that rears its head every time you see the two of them without you.

You sit in silence for a moment, and you force your head into your hands. You take a deep breath, deciding to permanently doom yourself with your next few words.

"I don't want this if it means nothing," you blurt, wincing at the shakiness in your voice. "The touching, the holding, the stupid fucking sleepovers where you let me sleep in your clothes and shower with your conditioner.

"It's awful. It feels like I'm being strung along, and for what? It doesn't matter. Friends do all of this shit too, apparently. This is so stupid. The second we all got called up, I knew it would just go to shit."

You're rambling, voice teetering between stable and sobbing as you try to stop your shoulders from shaking. The last thing you planned on doing after a win was going to your friends' hotel room and insinuating that they were leading you on, but here you are.

You've managed to stun them into silence. You wish they would yell at you, almost because the silence is a million times worse. One of them settles a hand on your spine, and you sniffle into your hands.

"It didn't mean nothing," Anthony placates, but you don't look up. You're so embarrassed you think you could die. "Not to me."

"Me neither."

So why are you still crying?

You swipe at your tears with the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to even your breathing as Austin gets up from the bed. You're not sure where he's going, but he returns a moment later with a tissue.

He tilts your head up, and you let him. Anthony's look of concern does nothing to calm you down, and you grimace as Austin wipes at your face.

"Don't apologize," he says before you can even get a 'sorry' out. You smile, albeit weakly, and he cradles your face in his hands.

"Is this enough for now?" he asks, and you hesitate. There's still so much left to be said, to be figured out. What line had you crossed by airing out how you felt?

Before you can even begin to panic again, Anthony hooks his chin over your shoulder, your cheeks gently pressed together on either side of Austin's hand. His hand is still resting on your spine, fingers drawing mindless patterns on each intake of breath. You lean your temple against Anthony's, sparing a glance at Austin who looks worried that you might burst into tears again.

There's still so much left to be said. How are you going to tell Boone? Your parents? Did the team work it out before you three did?

But for now.

You nod. "It's enough."

-

robin's notes: wow can you tell i'm terrible at writing confession scenes and that's why welpe didn't tell the reader they loved her LMAO anyway they are very dear to me PLEASE request more of them i'm on my hands and knees

[spacebaby1]

enemies to lovers with Ran Haitani tenjiku

Where the reader is the typical delegate or group representative who seems to be the description of perfection, excellent grades and an attitude that teachers love but this is only a facade that hides a truly rebellious and disastrous girl. Ran meets her and after totally frustrating her they begin to realize that only they truly know each other for who they really are and not just appearances.

Ohhh, I like this! Enjoy! (DON'T TRY THIS AT HOMR OR ANYWHERE) T.W: controlling parents?

Be perfect...

Be perfect...

Be perfect...

The words that You remind yourself every morning as you'd get ready for the school, eat breakfast, and get to school. As if not just last night your parents were screaming and yelling at you for randomly cutting most if your hair, you mother said that she hated your hair and you father kept yelling about how disappointed he was that you are trying to rebel against his rules. Your mother wasted no time into dragging you to the beauty salon to get long extensions, and you just sat there boiling in anger.

When you got home, your father had made a deal with you, "You follow my rules, you will go to that school tomorrow, and you will be the best of the students, unlike the last school. And if you do that till you graduate, then you can do whatever you want with your life, but till then, you have to be a perfect child of mine."

First day at school; you made sure to look as neat as you can and sat in the front seat. And for the next semester you won every teachers respect; it was a nightmare that you had to pretend to be a nice, soft spoken, and always smiling student when deep down your hands ache to slap some of the boys or pull the other annoying girls hair.

What you did after school was none of your parents' business; as long as they don't find out. With your baseball bat in hand, you walked in the dark alleyway and cigarettes dangling from your lips. You sighed, taking a puff before aiming the bat on the brick wall, and kept pushing your anger out of the wall. The pain of bat bouncing as it hit the wall felt euphoric in your hands, but you didn't stop and kept slamming the bat again and again. "What's the walls crime?"

You turned to find a boy; was a bit taller and had half black and yellow hair. He had a soft, lazy smile on as you tried to make out his features more in the dark. He, on the other hand, wasn't able to fully notice your face because of your hat covering your face, "Mind your own business." Was all you said before walking past him as he just stood there looking at you disappear in the busy streets.

The next day was boring in school as always until you heard your classmate girl tap your shoulder, "someone from the other class is asking for the teachers papers. he's just outside the door." You nodded before gathering the papers and headed towards the door. You gasped slightly when you noticed the boy standing there was the same boy from last night. He turned to look at you and smiled, "Haitani Ran, from class 5. The teacher said, You have the papers?" You thought he probably didn't recognise you, so you nodded and handed him the papers rushing back inside the class. And for the next month you kept running into Ran between classes and breaks, he seemed very sweet and never get angry at any of the students and would just laugh it off If someone said something that should upset him.

One night you were in the living-room when your father came home angry immediately lashing his anger at you and calling you names because you forgot to put your wet umbrella away from the entrance and you being yourself lost your temper lashing at your father which made him raise his hand on you, you fell on the ground holding your lips before yelling curs words at him before storming out of the house, and could still hear your mothers calling for you to stop but you just needed to leave.

You've done everything they had asked you, and yet it was still not enough, which made you wanna piss them off. At this point, you didn't even care if you cased trouble and got caught because you wanted to get caught.

The rain had soaked you fully as you kept throwing punching after punching on the bridge wall because you've made the mistake to not grab your bat and beat those bully's you'll find at the park right now. "Do you punch for a hobby?" You turned to find Ran standing under the umbrella with the same soft smile then you realised that he saw you now, the real you; hair in messed bun, red eyes, dressed not so neat and soaking in the rain. You weren't the perfect student he saw every day at school. "You'll hurt your hand and catch cold -"

"Piss of nerd,"

He laughed, moving closer, "I'm as much of a nerd as you. Must be tiring to pretend to be that neat." You don't know why, but his words made you tear up from where you stood, and he just moved his umbrella over your head, "your hairs soaked." You shook your head, "I fucking hate these extensions!" You yelled ready to pull on them but Ran grabbed your wrist. "You'll yank your head off, want me to take them off? I'm good with hair. See?" He pointed at his long perfect hair which made you laugh. "What do you say, wanna key some cars before we get those extensions off?" You laughed and he joined you. You did exactly that.

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Tess' Sharpuary - 7. Quidditch

A mishap on the pitch leaves the potions master with a broken nose. The one who caused the accident is more than apologetic though.

chapter specific tags: slice of life, fluff

relationships: aesop sharp & reader

7. Quidditch (1k)

tw: none

"Professor Sharp?" came from the door of his office. A young woman clad in Ravenclaw robes stood there, looking sheepish and awkward, her left hand wrapped in bandages, and in her right a satchel of some kind. The potions master didn’t have to ask why her hand was bandaged - it was the same reason his nose bore several scratches as well as some bruising. He gave her a smile: "Ah. Miss (L/N), do come in. What brings you here today?"

She did not come in. 

Instead, she shifted her weight from one foot onto the other: "I ... I wanted to apologise again. For what happened on the pitch." Aesop’s smile didn’t falter, though it got slightly wry. "Hardly the first time I had my nose broken, Miss. Knowing my luck, it wasn't the last time either,” which was true enough, criminals used to be quite fond of hurling heavy objects towards his face, but Aesop always managed to dodge them. However, those of muggle or mixed background actually occasionally resorted to throwing hands at him, and he had not always anticipated it.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I feel terrible,” the girl went on still, finally walking into his office slowly with her head hanging down, “That one time I play an actual match, standing in for Everett, and I send a bloody bludger straight at you!"

"Calm down, miss,” the potions master attempted to placate her. It wasn’t often he did so when it came to his students. Sure, he did help calm down a few snotty first-years after they got upset about ruining their potion, telling them they were more than welcome to try again and learn from their mistakes, but he always did so with a long-trained degree of moderation and impersonality. Not with this young woman, though. He wasn’t quite able to be impersonal with her… “It's Quidditch. It's a dangerous game. In your position as a beater, you did what you had to do in order to get that bludger away from your teammates, which is what you're supposed to do. If anything, it's my own stupid fault, for not having reacted quickly enough... Maybe I'm losing my touch…” which was maybe true, but then again he was rather distracted by seeing her effortlessly gliding through the air, cheeks flushed by the cool wind, strands of hair escaping from where they were secured, her clever eyes skimming the skies for bludgers. Maybe if he too looked out for the iron balls instead of staring at her… 

“Well, even if that was the case, I think your action following the strike more than made up for it. How's the hand?"

The young woman seemed a little calmer, now that it was obvious he was not mad at her one bit. She came forward and extended her arm to him: "It's... A little tender, but I'm fine."

The potions master took hold of it gently, prodding at her wrist and forearm, careful not to cause any pain. The area was still slightly swollen, but the Ravenclaw didn’t even flinch when he squeezed her limb. "You had that bat in your hand, and you go and stick your other hand in the bludger's path instead,” he raised his eyebrows at her with a facetious smirk.

She blushed with embarrassment and squirmed a bit, her arm still held by her professor. She soon recovered, however, and spoke up quite confidently: "I'm glad that I did, though, it softened the blow to your face."

"And resulted in both of us getting a lecture by our dear Nurse Blainey, instead of just one,” he finished for her, finally letting go of her arm, and already missing the warmth he felt underneath those bandages. “As I said miss, there's nothing to forgive, I am not cross with you, and I do not blame you for anything."

"I still feel awful, though…,” she insisted, toying with the strap of the satchel she was holding, “I know Nurse Blainey said that your nose was fine, and the scratches would heal soon, but I brought you a cooling pad in case it got worse, and also some treats from the house elves."

She then proceeded to pull various sweet and savoury treats from the satchel, more than it could possibly carry at first glance, as well as the promised cooling pad and a few healing potions obviously made by her. It was a little funny, Aesop decided. He was, after all, Hogwarts’ potions master, and yet this young woman was bringing him her own potions to use. He didn’t mind doing so, of course, he knew she worked meticulously on them, and that they’d be just as effective as his own Wiggenwelds. Still, quite funny. Before he knew it, his desk was almost entirely covered with delicious-looking foods.

"... Is that what you call 'some'?” he asked with an unbelieving chuckle, “That looks like half the kitchens, miss!"

The young woman stroked at her arm sheepishly: "I tried to tell them I only needed a little something, but the moment I mentioned they're for you as an apology for having broken your nose, they went absolutely mental, and wouldn't let me leave without this whole lot!" Aesop knew the elves were very grateful creatures - the smallest piece of kindness was enough to win them over. Which unfortunately spoke a lot about the wizarding society when it came to the treatment of servants. Aesop having the simple courtesy to ask for things with a ‘please’, and accept them with a ‘thank you’ was enough for the house elves to decide that ‘master is too kind, way too kind’, and they always went above and beyond to serve him. 

"Well, pull up a chair, miss,” he decided finally, eyeing the impromptu feast. After all, the office was a lot less crowded than the Great Hall, not to mention here he could actually hold a conversation while eating without having to shout over a huge room full of teenagers, so why not use the opportunity?  “There's no way I'd be able to eat this all on my own, even if I didn't want to later get myself back to my rooms.” With a flick of his wand, he summoned two bottles of Butterbeer he kept in the office for the two of them to have with their dinner.

He gave her a mischievous smile then: “You've got some nice things here, though... Might have to get my nose broken again sometime."

---

Thank you for reading!

[AO3] - [Sharpuary 2024] - [Masterlist]

[ashblooddragons]

This Mysterious Love (Chapter 10/?)

Series Masterlist

Alicents pov

I know Beth isn't happy, she thinks I'm letting him ruin me over charming words. And maybe five moons ago I would agree, but now, I can't help but feel like he actually wants me. 

“I'm just saying, it will be a tough talk if I have to give one of my daughters moontea. Especially since two of them are pregnant right now.” She says as she braids my hair into a half up half down look. 

“I understand Beth, but can you blame me for wanting to try?” I ask as I look at us through the mirror. 

“I could, but I won't.” She responds quickly before pinning the last braid before turning to my wardrobe. “What will it be today?”

I feel myself start digging into my cuticles, I don't like it when anyone is upset with me. Let alone Beth.

“Perhaps the gold and brown one.” I say from my seat watching as Beth pulls out the dress and looks at it. 

It is a lovely beige dress with a gold silk skirt with a scalp pattern. The bodice is simple though it has a row of beads with diamonds and emeralds strung along the breast. And the sleeves are large and puffed, made of a soft thin linen that is quite breathable for this spring weather. 

“I think it's a lovely choice, My Lady.” Beth says and I can see she's being sincere.

“It's not too simple, or a bad color?” I ask, worried that the beige is too boring. 

“No, it is perfect for a picnic. Not too bright but not too dull.” She says as she grabs my hand and has me stand as she helps me dress. 

I grip my chair as she tightens the corset just right. No amount of times I've done this changes the pinched pain. But as soon as it's done everything is fine. 

I reach up to make sure the beaded net holding my braids is secure before leaving my chambers in a rush. 

I make myself walk at a leisurely pace, no point in letting him see how excited I am. If anything he can wait.

As I pass Lords and Ladies I watch as some are talking to their Father who seems furious. 

Seems word got out about Prince Daemon’s marriage being annulled. I think as I take in their dresses. 

Many are wearing pink, red, or even blue. But all of them have one thing in common, if their Septa saw them they would have their knuckles struck until they bleed and even then the Septa may not stop. 

When I finally turn into the royal gardens I watch as many Mothers force their daughters to walk as they back behind them. More than likely making sure her posture is perfect. 

I can't help but frown at all this. For my Father has left me alone after the King, which is odd as he is usually looking for any man of high standing for me. But the main reason, that I don't have a Mother to check my posture, I don't have a Mother to braid my hair into intricate braids, I don't have a mother for fashion advice. So seeing these girls huff in annoyance at their Mother's well it hurts more than words can describe.

I decide to keep my head down and move forward through the gardens towards the Weirwood tree. Once I see it I can't help but freeze. 

Rhaenyra is there, with the Prince. Her dress is just like all the other ladies though hers is a deep rich purple. I can't help but gasp when she rests her hand on his chest and bats her eyes up at him. 

I know what is going to happen, but I need to see it, I need to see how much of a fool I am. But just as I prepare myself to run back to my chambers like a fool I see the Prince step back and shake his head to Rhaenyra. 

I can't hear what he is saying but from the look on her face it wasn't what she was hoping for. Because she quickly storms off in a fit bumping into passing Ladies almost making them fall. 

I watched in shock as I was certain he would desire her as much as she desires him. That he would want to take her offer of seduction all too willingly. But instead I watched as he turned her away with a flash of rage crossing his face. 

It is then that I decide to move forward to let myself be known. I take care to step on a few fallen leaves to alert my presence so I don't accidentally sneak up on him. 

He quickly turns and when he sees me he instantly smiles. A true smile, not one of those cocky ones he wears constantly, no this one gives crinkled to his eyes, the ones that show someone lived a life worthwhile. 

“You look beautiful.” He says, stepping forward to take my hand and kiss it. 

I smile but roll my eyes. “No need to lie. I saw the Ladies of court. I look like I'm wearing a rotten bag of potatoes compared to them.” I say letting him guide me towards the blanket. 

He chuckles as he sits down across from me. I watch as his eyes roam over me and I can't help but blush. 

“I find I quite like your ‘simple’ dress. It's refreshing to see. And you wear it well.” He says before reaching for a bottle of wine and two chalices. 

“What wine is that? I don't care for bitter ones.” I ask as he pours some into one of the chalices. 

“A Dornish honey red, deep enough for me not to want to vomit but for a young Lady like yourself it is sweet enough.” He says as he hands me my own chalice waiting to see if I like it or not. 

I breathe in the fruity scent, there are hints of lemon and orange and something sweet. 

Must be the honey. I think before taking a sip. 

The taste is like nothing I've ever had before. It's not too sweet, not too bitter. The taste of honeyed fruit hits me as well as the bitter red of this aged drink. 

“I used to prefer Amber Gold, but I think I may switch my favorite to this.” I say before taking another sip. 

He smiles looking down at his cup as if it is showing him all the secrets of the world. 

I'm always baffled by how…boyish he seems when we meet. Like he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Though I can't blame him, he usually seduces a Lady of court before guiding her to his chambers or some secluded hall. I suppose courting is a new process for him.

“How is Caraxes? I have been wondering about him as of late.” I say thinking back to a week prior when I had touched the great beast for the first time. 

He seems to perk up at this question as he looks at me again with a joyful grin plastered on his lips. 

“He is well, grumpy though. I think he misses you, you'll need to stop by the Dragonpit with me soon.” 

I can tell he doesn't think I'll agree, and I do as well. But it seems my mouth had different plans. 

“I would love to.” 

He clears his throat looking down to hide the boyish smile that comes to his face. 

I never knew the Rogue Prince would be so adorable. I think as I reach for a vine of grapes. 

“So tell me, how many Ladies have ‘accidently’ tripped and fell in front of you?” I ask in a teasing tone. 

He throws his head back laughing and it is a wonderful sound in this quiet place. 

“Too many gods and some are getting brave with them too. One pretended to trip and I actually had to save her from falling down the stairs.” He says with a shake of his head and a chuckle leaving his lips.

I can't help but laugh with him, it truly is funny to watch as court ladies flock to the new prize. Whether that be a Prince, the King, or even a comely knight. They will sniff them out like wolves finding a fresh kill. 

“Let me guess, Hana Frey?” I ask and he seems shocked which tells me I'm right. “She's known for doing that, she started when she was only two and ten, she's now five and ten. I've seen her do it too, and she started courting the man. Sadly he passed in a tourney.” I say before popping a grape into my mouth.

He only hums nodding his head. “Happens, that's the sad part of those games. You can gain glory or you can lose your life. Though usually you just lose the games.” 

I never understood the drive to do a tourney, they always seem so barbaric and meaningless. But men always seem so enthusiastic when one comes. 

Instead of asking, I decide to change the subject. I never realized how easy it would he to talk to him. Everything flowed perfectly, if only I remembered I was drinking wine then maybe my head and pride would've been saved on the morrow.

Daemons pov

I had cut the Little Hightower off well before our picnic was over. But it seems she is a light weight. 

I have her arm tucked into mine as I walk her through the dark halls as the sun sets. She is giggling and babbling incoherently. 

I knew she said she liked the wine but I didn't think she liked it this much. I think practically carrying her up the stairs of the tower of Hand. 

“This was fun, wasn't it fun?” she asks through giggles. 

“Very fun, we'll have to do it again.” I say and though many may think I'm just indulging her I mean it. I want to see her again, I want to sit down and talk for hours with her again. 

I've never had a conversation like that, how it flowed from one subject. It wasn't even something I knew I was missing, but now I do and I never want it to ever stop. 

“You have such pretty hair.” She says as she touches my long locks as I carry her towards her door after she almost tripped and fell in her face.

“Why thank you, Alicent, I think you have beautiful hair yourself.” I say before freezing when she gasps, staring up at me wide eyed. 

“You said my name, you said Alicent. It wasn't Little Hightower.” She whispers as if it's a great secret. 

I can't help but chuckle at her joyful look. I never knew me saying her name instead of my teasing endearment would mean so much to her. 

“Yes I did, now I'm going to knock and you will enter. I'll make sure a Maester brings you a tonic on the morrow.” I say as she looks up at me with glassy eyes. 

I watch as she nods sluggishly before laying her head to my chest. 

“I've never felt so safe, not since my Mother passed. Thank you for making me feel safe again.” She says before looking up at me and leaning forward to graze her lips with mine. And though I want her to kiss me, how I want to taste her lips, I take a step back and open her chamber door.

“I think it's time for you to get some sleep.” I say watching as her maid moves forward to guide her into her room.

I turn around walking down the steps licking my lips wishing they tasted like Alicent. 

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @themoonlitquill @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar @thelastemzy @fictionlurker @edensfanfictionsuggestions @seaevans @yn-jackson @lady-ye @nommingonfood @dreamlandcreations @zara-zara11 @ninihrtss @marvel-is-my-obsession

Special thanks to my beastie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

[limbuscompanysituations]

(post canto VI) Some angsty stuff, like Ishmael being upset because Heathcliff acts totally different, all in all mainly missing the deep friendship that has started to form between them, some longing for a feeling she can't quite explain. She wishes to help him but doesn't know how to approach him properly ww

He changed.

It's normal for sinners to experience sudden, drastic changes; be it either in opinions, values or goals. Through the entirety of a bough retrieval mission, they are forced to revisit their own life stories. Their emotions change, their thoughts change, their hearts change. They change.

This change, however, is most unnatural; she would risk calling it unnerving.

He's always at a corner, doing something to his bat. Ishmael thought it would be a matter of waiting a couple days. She decides to leave him to it. Their stay at the Wuthering Heights was confusing, with a lot of it vanishing from their minds. It was clear there was something she missed here.

She's still expecting that the camaraderie that had blossomed between them would lead Heathcliff to tell her what was up. Instead, all she got was a man who was a shadow of himself. Ishmael can't handle it anymore, so she goes ahead and confronts him about it.

He iss still modifying his bat, bowing over it and completely focused on the task at hand.

"What's your problem?" She asks. It takes a minute or so for Heathcliff to slowly raise his head and look at her. It took him another half minute for him to really look at her. It's like he's deep underwater.

"What d'ya want?" He asks back. She frowns.

"So this is how it's gonna be? Hiding at corners, sanding that damned bat over and over and... carving? What happened to you? It's like... some ghost snatched the soul from inside your body."

He flinches at the word "ghost".

"Catherine." He speaks in a barely audible whisper.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, thought so." He sighs and goes back to his task. Ishmael grits her teeth, considering whether or not she'd get scolded for beating the shit out of him then and there.

"The name doesn't ring any bells to you, or anybody, for that matter. That means I still... have much to do." He quietly explains.

"You could start with growing a spine." She growls, "And tell me what the fuck happened to you." The next words she speaks hurt her more than anything, "You used to trust me."

Heathcliff pauses, shut his eyes and presses his lips into a thin line.

"Yeah I... I used to... Think many things before." His voice is weak, cracking and drifting away at the end, "And you're right. My soul was stolen, snatched out of my bones. I'm hollow, pumpkin." He chuckles, "Hollow like... birds' bones, I guess."

And for the first time in weeks, a little bit of that grief started showing through the cracks. Their stay at Wuthering Heights was brief and chaotic, but she remembers one thing clearly: the moment his mind broke, his insanity took over and he became not a friend but a foe; overcome with pain beyond what a human could bear.

"Don't call me that." She replies, "Not when you're like... this."

"Aight, Ishmael. D'ya want anything else?" He doesn't look at her.

"I want you to come back." It doesn't take a heartbeat before she says these words, and then he raises his head to look at her again, "However long it takes. I'm waiting, you stupid piece of shit. Waiting for the moment you want to tell me what the hell happened to you. I'm waiting."

Heathcliff stares at her, wordless and exhausted.

"I'm waiting." She reassures him, and turns her back, ready to walk away.

"Thanks, ginger. I... may not be all right in the head but... that's much appreciated."

Without any other word, she leavwa him be. Whether it worked or not, only time would tell. Ishmael couldn't do anything but to wait. And if it was necessary, she didn't mind having to knock some sense into him either.

[bruciemilf]

Diana grows up learning the spirit of Themyscira lives in every Amazon. In whatever shape, in whatever form they come.

She's there for every clay forging. She blesses the adorable lump of clay, slowly starting to take shape of something close to a person.

She thinks of Mother's tapestries, the pictures in her books. Of Ares and Zeus, fathers of all fathers. And she thinks who needs Gods when you have sisters?

Sisters accept you and protect you. Sisters are your blood that walks and breaths and laughs. And Diana knows there's tribes that don't accept certain Amazons.

Just because you're born among them doesn't mean you belong.

But for her, it's different. "If they're on the island, they're one of ours. Amazons don't forget their own."

There's a man on the beach shore, with eyes full of sand.

Diana's more curiosity than woman. When her sisters poke at the strange figure with their feet, trying to wake him, or check for life, she simply turns him him to check.

He's young; Hair as darks as nightsky. His face is pale, almost pearly. It reminds her of moonlight, softly spilling down the ocean when it's completely dark.

Her hands wipe away salty water from long, elegant lashes, and looks for a heartbeat down his chest. There's a strange symbol on it. Diana's hands feel like ice.

The Bat makes a noise, a whine, too fragile for a man. But maybe he's more. " We must take him in."

" This is not a place for men."

" No. But it can be a place for brothers."

He's almost frail, wrapped in furs and skins and blankets. His whole body is tense, even in this state of vulnerability. As if he's burdened even in sleep.

But there's names whispered to Diana at night, when she changes sweat soaked shirts, when she tinkers with the belt laid next to him. " Jay. Timmy. Dick. Cass. Duke. Dami."

Perhaps they're his Gods. Or maybe something more important.

When the Bat wakes, he doesn't remember much of anything. He looks at Diana with such wounded eyes, like a beloved deer waiting to feed the tribe and be celebrated for her sacrifice.

The sisters avoid him. Mother knows telling Diana to stay in line would be useless. Besides, she might not be aware of it, but her gaze does soften when he shyly asks for something to read.

He doesn't speak much. Diana does, thought. " Jason, Cass, Dick," she tests the name. So very strange sounding, but comfortable in her tongue. " Are they your lovers?"

The Bat's eyes widened slightly. The mango she brought him fill up his cheeks, making his face round, and her chest warm. " ...No. I don't know what they are but, -- but they're in my heart. They're my loves."

A random flicker of hope passes through her chest.

"Maybe we could go look for them someday. Bring them here."

"Yes," he let's her hand fall in his. They're almost like hers, if not a big broader. Scarred and beaten and cracking. The labor of love. " Maybe we will."

♡♡♡

Jason's body is restless. It's been restless for a year, like a beast getting hunted. Hoping while dying. He's no stranger to that.

" Dick."

His brother's pure sunshine, usually. Or pretends to be. He's got no strength to act anymore. No more power. Gotham is missing its heart.

"I found him."

" Jay, you're upset. I know you are, but,--"

" Dick," He breaths, hard, lungs pumping adrenaline, " When Bruce dies, I'll feel it. I'll bleed all over Gotham again. He's alive. I know he is. And we're going after him."

Dick's voice collapses, in a rare, painful moment of truth. He's not Nightwing, or Batman, or Robin. He's Jason's big brother. He's a legacy of ruin. " You're not the only one who loved him."

"Maybe. But I'm the only one who'll find him. Even if I have to burn my path."

[residentrookie]

30 - "Is that blood?"

jegulus or rosekiller, pls <3

hiiii!! here’s prompt 30. is that blood? idk how many words :))

regulus groans a bit as he leans his head back, fingers pinched on the bridge of his throbbing nose.

“got you good, huh?” he hears from his left, and turns to see the sympathetic face of his teammate evan, who had witnessed the stray bludger connecting squarely with his face in the final few minutes of the match. it had been an accident. he thinks it was an accident, at least. gryffindor was their toughest competitor, but the team prided themselves on being good sports to an obsessive degree.

“has it stopped bleeding?” regulus asks, his voice almost comically nasally.

“mostly.” evan reaches for a rag. “hate to say it but i think ruining your pretty face was a necessary sacrifice. beating gryffindor literally never gets old.”

regulus snatches the extended rag and rolls his eyes. “you’re welcome.”

he had been the one to catch the snitch to end the game and all while his nose was profusely bleeding, no less. necessary sacrifice indeed.

he runs the rag across his face and turns to evan.

“how ruined are we talking here?”

“oh you’re totally hideous. unsalvagable. james will never want to snog you now.”

regulus aims the rag for evans head on his way out of the locker room, off to put evan’s theory to the test. there’s nothing quite like the high after a win, and even knowing his boyfriend is the captain of the losing team and will likely be taking this hard, he can’t bring himself to dull his own excitement. besides, there was something sexy about james when he got all sad and pathetic, looking to be comforted and placing the power to do just that into regulus’ eager hands.

oh, regulus would comfort him alright. he’d comfort james so well.

he turns a corner and finds james waiting for him on a bench, elbows on his knees, head hanging low. regulus slows, reevaluating his prior thoughts. maybe james was more upset than he anticipated, maybe he wouldn’t want to see the person who’d just cost his beloved team a much needed victory—

but then james looks up, sees him, and rises in the next moment, crossing the room to him and sweeping him up in his arms, pressing his lips against regulus’ firmly. regulus gasps a bit as the contact makes his nose pulse with pain, but immediately settles into it, eyes closing as the kiss deepens, as james’s arms wrap tighter around him.

few things were better than beating griffyndor in a match. but this? yeah, this qualifies.

james pulls away for breath and nuzzles regulus’ neck while he gasps for it.

“you played so well, reg. you deserved to win. congratulations.”

regulus feels his cheeks grow pink with pleasure at the praise. “oh, so i deserved to win, but not my team, hm?” he teases. that’s the way they have to compromise on these silly sorts of disagreements, like playing and cheering for rivals teams.

regulus, of course, wants james to win every match he plays in. he would also rather die than cheer for gryffindor.

james pulls back, opening his mouth to speak, when he freezes, eyes locking on regulus’ shirt. “is that blood?” he demands, examining the material more closely. “are you okay?” his eyes fly up to regulus’, brow wrinkled in concern. “was this from the match? what happened?”

“woah, james,” regulus laughs a bit, batting at the hands now gripping his shirt tightly. “i’m fine. you must have missed it, but about five minutes before the match ended—“

he proceeds to explain the stray bludger making an unfortunate connection with his face and watches james’ face grow stormier with each word. when he finishes, james is already pulling away, turning back towards the gryffindor locker room.

regulus scrambles after him. “james, what—“

“i’m going to kill him. fucking mckinnon. he should never be aiming bludgers at seekers, i’ve told him this a million fucking times, so if he thinks he’s going to get away with breaking my boyfriend’s face—“

“james!” regulus says with a laugh. he tugs on james’ sleeve halting him on his warpath. “you’re going to kill your teammate? after all the shit you always spout about the sanctity of team comraderie?”

james scowls at him and regulus laughs again, capturing the other boy’s lips.

“there are other ways to work out your frustration than killing one of your beaters,” he smiles, eyelids lowered as he looks up from beneath his lashes. “i can think of several, actually.”

this attempt to distract james works like a charm. it’s almost too easy with him sometimes.

“shower before?” james asks, voice low. “or after?”

“hmm,” regulus pretends to think on it. “how about during?”

[firewalkzwit]

runt // jonathan crane x reader. (7)

Chapter 7

cross-posted on AO3

masterlist

Y/N looked down at her body as her fingers gently tapped on her wounds. Self-inflicted bleeding scratches from her violent waddling on the floor when her soft skin grazed the hard pavement violently. She winced, biting her inner cheek as she removed her wet coat, the humidity of the fur making her feel colder than without it. As her gaze paced around her surroundings, her eyes fixated on the car keys on the floor, and then on Dr. Crane, who laid on the floor as dishevelled as she did. As her body regained strength, Y/N aided herself to stand up with the help of the car behind her, her knees no longer surrendering to her body weight and finally being able to hold her standing. While she held the keys in her hand, something in her sought to look for Crane's wellbeing. Thought creeped the back of her mind, yet she tried to rationalise it thinking about trying to get back at Batman, or how upset Falcone would be if he found out the last time his drug producer was seen alive was with her.

To see her fingers wiggle as she held out a hand to help him up was certainly a surprise, even to a man like Jonathan Crane, who's tendency to predict people's behaviour based on their conduct patterns rarely committed any mistakes. His gaze looked distrustful, as he frowned and squinted in an attempt to see better. The blur thar replaced his vision of her face offered no inviting tenderness, but rather a feeling of distant humanity. He struggled to discern what conveyed her to help him, yet he refrained from asking. As their hands touched, her's tightened around his to hold on, aiding him to get up. He pulled on her weight to get back on his feet, yet she struggled to stay still, her balance failing her in sudden shaking of her knees, but he eventually managed to derive most of his manoeuvre to his own muscles, finally getting back up.

His bets were placed on the strange yet not uncommon behaviours he observed in women, where they became affectionate towards men who were violent towards them in order to gain their approval to feel special and safe. Crane however doubted this was the case as she bolted away from him as soon as he got back on his feet, his sharp hearing picking up on her soft sniffles which she tried to hide relying on his poor vision.

"Why did you help me?" The curiosity was eating him alive, he had to ask.

"Now you know that I hate Batman." Her voice cracked as she spoke, and her arms hugged her torso as her weak legs pressed against each other, her posture conveying insecurity. Y/N never had been so little in control of her own emotions and body, only when she got the news of her brother dying, nothing had ached her more than that and she vividly recalled how she had collapsed in the ground as her visceral screams left her without air, completely surrendered to her own pain and anger. "An enemy of my enemy is my friend."

A soft grin formed in Crane's face. He saw no potential alliance in a woman he deemed significatively inferior in intelligence to him, but he did see a potential pawn he could use to blackmail Batman, after all he loved the damsel in distress trope, given how keen he was on playing hero when Rachel Dawes before she was murdered by The Joker. "He did seem very eager to save you... before he left you here."

"That doesn't matter, I have my reasons to hate him."

"Are you implying that we should work together?"

"I have no guarantees that you won't spray me with your fear gas."

"Fair play." Crane replied as he tried to remove his gizmo from his wrist. Afraid he'd fumble the gadget and accidentally (or intentionally) spray her again, she rapidly stepped in to offer him aid. She was fully aware and afraid of the danger she was putting herself on, but as she further assessed the situation and connected the dots, Dr. Crane seemed like the closest she'd ever been to an authentic enemy of the Bat, and if it costed her some sacrifices on her psyche to form a convenient alliance, she was willing to put herself through the torment. Besides, after what she had experienced the only thing that seemed worse than Dr. Crane's fear gas was a concentrated dose of the same thing. Most importantly, she had decided she no longer feared to die in the process of avenging her brother.

"Here, let me." Y/N softly spoke as she held his wrist with one hand and undid the safe locks on the bracelet-like gadget, which finally dropped on her hand as she fearfully put it back on his. His blurry vision struggled to be delighted with the proximity of her face, of which Crane could only draw images of her features in his head. Y/N looked back up at him in distrust, her tense muscles ready to be gassed again in any minute, but Crane had no plans of torturing her any further, crouching back down to tap on the pavement with his hands like a blind man to search for his glasses. Back where her fur coat laid on the floor, Y/N hid his keys under a secret pocket in the inside of the coat, walking back to the vehicle before he did in order to retrieve them. As he recovered his vision, the sight of her silhouette accommodating on the driver seat before shutting the door made his heart skip a beat. Was she truly not interested in partnering with him, and robbing him in the process? As the car drifted and made a risky turn on the wet floors of the parking lot, it relaxed Crane to see his car drive his way.

"I'm driving." Her cold tone as she rolled the window down was almost ordering him to get in his own car, and as he tried to make his meticulous meditation of his decision in a short lapse, her more impulsive self rushed him with a honk. Y/N seeked for vengeance, Crane's seeked for knowledge. Their ambitions were different, therefore in the future Crane assessed they would not dispute over any treasured resources, however they were united by their obstacle which was the Batman. To Crane's judgement, Y/N was not smart, but she was certainly strong-willed. Her determination of steel was the reason why she got in his car, allowed him to drive her to a remote location and to gas her, and still with all the fear in her bones be able to invite him in the car where she held the wheel. Crane knew she was afraid, he could see how her teeth gritted and her grip on the wheel tightened in anxiety, and he perceived she found a sense of security in driving the car as he was vulnerable.

Y/N was terrified of Crane, but to see him beat up and bloody, tousled appearance and reeking of stagnant water like her helped her humanise him a little further. She had also already picked up on his biggest fear, the loss of control. While she had no desire to betray the little trust he had granted her in their implicit agreement, she considered it important to note his weaknesses if she ever needed to turn on him. She also had the blessing of a clean record, and although it was obviously not long before the Batman begun his research on her background, she was a saint and a victim in the eyes of the world; a hardworking woman living in struggle. As she was finally indicated by Crane their way out of the maze, she found herself back in familiar highways again, speeding at the thrill of playing with fire. Her search for vengeance had long begun, but her revenge had only just started, and she loved the way it felt on her chest.