#anon so sorry for being terribly slow replying to this

[maxinemartinsdrill]

jackles on the other hand... i need u to speak on it! au michael was stellar until...

*sigh*

jackles is like... ugh. look he is actually a good actor it's just everyone was really lost on where the fuck this was going. I don't know if he just had terrible ideas about Michael or if he had bad directing but the whole thing was a mess. why. why is he dressed like a peaky blinders reject. when Jared did fun weird intonation for gadreel it was like cool! because he'd been imprisoned since the dawn of time, of course he's speaking in iambic pentameter. and it worked for him. why is like combat fatigues-wearing down to earth Michael suddenly doing all that... what's with the leather apron thing? and the cauldrons? AND WHY ON G-D'S GREEN EARTH DID DABB WRITE HIM TELLING A SYRIAN REFUGEE HE WAS A COWARD FOR NOT STAYING IN SYRIA?? it didn't even feel like commentary on the fact michael sucks and has no understanding of people it is literally just dabb being racist. also I can't help but cringe at the sister jo Michael meeting there's no need for it. we get it you want jackles wife to be awestruck at his wingspan or whatever. please leave me alone.

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Orc! Husband who is a great warrior and leader, knows nothing but being used as a sword, a means to an end who's disillusioned and tired and accepts he's gonna die another pawn in another war, meeting a sweet human, a peasant from a local village who sees him as so much more. (The idea of some large war worn orc getting his scarred face caressed for the first time, being touched kindly for the first time having lived a lifetime of war)

i love this anon

warnings/tags- war mentions, i dont give the orc a name (i just call him orc/him) reader is gn (please dm me if their are any mistakes you see)

sorry this took so long for me to post

word count- 1667

The world was caught in a cycle of war. It was all you had ever known—villages burnt, homes lost, and people fleeing. The once fertile land surrounding your small village had been reduced to ash by decades of fighting. Your family had passed when you were young, victims of an earlier invasion. Now, you lived alone on the outskirts, tending to a humble garden, surviving day by day, hidden away from the larger conflicts that ravaged the region.

One day, word spread that another army was passing through. hims, they said. Great and terrible warriors, driven by bloodlust, used as weapons by those who wished to conquer the land. The mere mention of them sent shivers down your spine. You'd never seen an orc before, but the tales of their brutality haunted your nights.

But life had to go on. War was as much a part of your existence as the soil beneath your feet. You’d tended your small garden early in the morning, pulling weeds and harvesting what little grew in the rough soil, when you saw him.

He was massive—nearly seven feet tall with broad shoulders and green, scarred skin that glistened under the midday sun. He moved like a predator, every step deliberate and filled with the weight of someone who knew the battlefield like the back of his hand. His face was hard, worn from years of battle. His tusks jutted out from his lower jaw, and his eyes, dark and tired, scanned the landscape without emotion. His armor was dented and scratched, his war axe hanging loosely by his side.

You froze in place, heart pounding in your chest. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but his presence was enough to send a bolt of fear through your spine. Should you run? Hide? But as you hesitated, he turned his gaze in your direction, his sharp eyes locking with yours.

He didn’t move.

You held your breath, waiting for him to charge, to raise his axe, to shout in fury as the stories had always described. But he didn’t. He just stood there, staring at you. His posture was tense, but there was no hostility in his eyes. Just exhaustion, a deep weariness that went beyond the physical. 

Slowly, you stood, wiping your hands on your apron as you tried to gather your courage. “I-I’m not armed,” you stammered, not knowing what else to say. Your voice trembled, but you stood your ground, unable to look away from the giant in front of you.

He blinked slowly, as if processing your words. His brow furrowed, and for the first time, his lips parted to speak. His voice was gravelly, deep and tired. “I am… not here to fight.”

His words shocked you. Orcs were supposed to be mindless brutes, weren't they? Tools of war and destruction. But there was something in his voice—something that told you he was more than that. Something that hinted at a story far deeper than the legends you'd grown up with.

"I... I see," you replied, unsure of what to do with this information. "Why are you here, then?"

him seemed to consider this for a moment. His eyes drifted across the barren landscape, as if searching for an answer he didn’t have. Finally, he spoke again, his words slow and deliberate. “I was following orders. But the battle is done. And now, I am here.”

There was a sadness in his voice, a resignation that tugged at your heart. You hadn’t known kindness in a long time yourself, not since the war had taken everything from you. And here stood a creature—a warrior—who had clearly suffered more than most. It was a strange feeling, but you didn’t want to leave him there, lost in his own despair.

You took a tentative step forward. “Do you… do you need help?”

Heturned to face you fully now, eyes narrowing slightly. “Help?” he echoed, as if the word was foreign to him.

You nodded, swallowing your fear as best as you could. “Yes. I… I don’t know much about orcs, but… if you’re lost, or need food, I can offer you what little I have.”

He seemed taken aback. His dark eyes softened, just for a moment, and you could see the wariness in him begin to waver. “Why?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “Why would you help me?”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain it yourself. "Because... you seem like you’ve had enough pain. And I know what that’s like."

He stared at you, unblinking, as if trying to decipher your words. Then, without a word, he sheathed his axe, the sound of metal scraping metal filling the silence between you.

"I am Orc," he said simply, as though it was the only name he had ever known.

You offered him a small, hesitant smile. "I'm... I'm Y/N. Come, if you're hungry, I have some food. It's not much, but it's something."

And so it began. He followed you back to your small home, his massive presence intimidating, yet strangely protective. Over the next few days, you learned more about him—not through stories, but through his actions. He wasn’t the mindless killer you’d feared. He was quiet, thoughtful even, though his words were few. He helped you in the garden, chopping wood with ease, fixing things around the house that had been neglected for too long. He never spoke of the war or the battles he had fought, but the scars on his body told enough of the story.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you sat together by a small fire. The crackling of the flames was the only sound between you for a while, until you finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been gnawing at you for days.

“.. why did you stay?”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. “I have known nothing but war. I was made for it. Used for it. There was always another battle, another fight. I thought that was all there was.”

You watched him carefully, noticing how his hands clenched and unclenched as he spoke.

“But when I met you…” His voice trailed off, as if he was unsure how to continue. “You did not look at me as a weapon. You did not fear me.”

Your heart ached for him. Slowly, you reached out, placing your hand gently on his arm. His skin was rough and scarred, but beneath it, you could feel the warmth of someone who had long been deprived of kindness. His entire body tensed under your touch, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he looked down at your hand, his brow furrowing in confusion, as if he couldn’t comprehend why someone would want to touch him in such a way. He had known nothing but pain and violence—his body bore the marks of countless battles, each one a reminder of what he was made to do.

Gently, you let your fingers brush against his face, tracing the deep scars that lined his jaw and cheek. His breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw something break in his eyes. He wasn’t just a warrior. He was someone who had been used and discarded, left to fight battles that weren’t his own.

"You’re more than just a weapon," you whispered softly, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "You deserve more than this life of war."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if it was the first time someone had ever reached out to him with kindness. The tension in his body melted away, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders.

“I… don’t know how to be anything else,” he admitted, his voice strained with vulnerability.

"Then let me show you," you said, your thumb gently brushing across his scarred cheek. "Let me show you that there's more to life than fighting."

In that moment, something shifted between you. The wall he had built around himself began to crumble, and him, the warrior who had known nothing but war, allowed himself to hope. Hope for something more, something better.

And in that hope, you both found solace.

---

As the days passed, he stayed. What had once been a strange and cautious arrangement became a companionship neither of you had expected. He helped you tend the garden, his strength turning the earth with ease. You taught him how to appreciate the small things—the sound of the wind in the trees, the feeling of warm sunlight on his skin, the simple joy of sharing a meal with someone who cared.

And slowly, he began to open up. He told you stories of his battles, not with pride, but with a sense of regret, of loss. He had been a tool, a weapon wielded by others, never given the chance to choose his own path.

But now, with you, he had found something different. Something worth fighting for—not with a sword, but with his heart.

You fell in love, slowly but surely. It was in the quiet moments, the shared glances, the way he protected you without ever needing to raise his weapon. And one night, as the stars twinkled overhead, you whispered the words that had been growing in your heart.

“I love you.”

He stared at you, his dark eyes filled with an emotion so raw, so powerful, that it nearly took your breath away. “I… love you too, Y/N.”

For the first time in his life, he let himself be vulnerable. He let himself feel something other than the cold steel of a weapon in his hand, something other than the rage of battle that had driven him for so long. He let himself feel love.

[orionremastered]

I’m actually so obsessed with the way you write the boys like🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

why thank you anon this made me smile

and because im nice (school hasn't started yet)

Masterlist

911 Texting the Batboys

Dick Grayson

Exactly one minute after you send him the text, the living room window shatters into a million pieces across the floor. Nightwing calls your name, voice raw with concern, before surveying the state of your apartment.

"Oh," you say quietly by the kitchen, staring at the broken pieces of glass across the floor and then at your boyfriend who stares at you, chest heaving as he looks at you, confused.

"You're not hurt?"

"Well— I— the pan caught fire. I put it out though. I'm not burnt, I promise."

He looks at you doubtfully, storming over before pulling you into a tight embrace. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Don't be. It's okay. Don't be scared to text me if you're in any trouble. Promise you'll let me know if you're in danger?"

"I promise."

"Good," he mutters, though more as a reassurance for himself, resting his head on yours and breathing deeply.

"You can let me go now," you point out gently.

"Two more minutes."

Jason Todd

When your boyfriend takes longer to show up than expected, you start to get confused. And cold— it's the middle of winter and your hoodie was stolen while you were out with your friends.

And that wouldn't be a problem if you're car wasn't starting either.

The familiar roar of a motorcycle engine catches your attention, dark shape speeding down the street towards you. It skids to a stop, the tires screeching in order to slow.

"Hey," you say with a wave and a smile. "Car broke down and—"

Red Hood rushes off his motorbike, carefully grabbing you to look you over in the empty street. When he finds nothing, he sighs. "Thought you'd been kidnapped. Couldn't find you at your apartment."

Without waiting for your reply, he shrugs his brown leather jacket off his shoulders and places it around yours, helping you put your arms into the sleeves despite you protesting that you can do it yourself.

"Let's get you home," he says gruffly, aching to hold you in his embrace when no one can see. "I'll call in a favour to get your car fixed."

Tim Drake

You don't think you'd ever been more embarrassed in your life when you realised you forgot your phone, which has your card in the case, at home.

Tim rushes into the store, having tracked your location immediately and driving well over the speed limit, still in his pristine CEO outfit.

"What's wrong? Is someone bothering you?" his eyes dart around the store, taking everyone's face and putting it to memory.

"No... I forgot my phone and card. And I have a full cart of groceries. Tim, I can't put this all back, that's weird."

"Why didn't you ask me to pay before?"

"I— hmm. I'll do that next time."

You lead him to the counter were the high school aged cashier gapes at the richest man in Gotham who pays for the food without even glancing at the price.

Damian Wayne

When you texted 911 to your boyfriend, you certainly weren't expecting this. Somehow, in the five minutes of the text being sent, he managed to gather ten League of Assassins members that now stand in your suddenly very cramped apartment, sharp katanas at their side.

"Are you alright?" Damian himself has two katanas, glinting in the terrible lights. "What's wrong?"

It seems so stupid now with ten assassins behind him. Maybe you shouldn't have texted after all. "Look, it's really—"

"I don't care how little it is," he states, "You texted me for a reason."

"I... I thought I could hear someone talking and moving in the walls."

All eleven of them tense, exchanging glances. Damian gives them one sharp nod and the assassins begin locating any hollow spaces in the walls, tapping their knuckles and listening closely to the sounds.

"وجدت ذلك," one says after a few seconds.

"Don't worry about it habibi, we'll tear the building apart and find them," Damian assures you, pulling you into his arms.

[anto-pops]

To the Victor Go the Spoils - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Since Sebastian can't hold himself accountable and show up to Quidditch practice, Imelda takes matters into her own hands and bans him from being around you until the upcoming game is finished. It's something easier said than done.

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian having a terrible time in lieu of Imelda's no-sex-ban, but good things always come to those who wait.

Based on a request I received! Hope you like it anon :)

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit content

Full fic can be found here on Ao3! 

It’s not like you couldn’t tell Sebastian was overwhelmed. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, despite his efforts to always hide them. A boggart could mirror him in a flash and betray his fears and his thoughts, but even then you would know what to expect beforehand, because you knew him better than anyone. 

Between classes, the new Quidditch season, and his new goal of becoming an Auror, Sebastian felt like he was being pulled in a thousand different directions all at once. Realistically, it shouldn’t be so difficult for him to prioritize one task at a time. That’s how easy it would be to solve his problems; he only needed to slow down and take a breath before diving back into the bottomless workload. But it didn’t matter what he told himself or how he rationalized everything– he was still stressed and on the verge of tearing his hair out. 

You watched as Sebastian pushed around a sausage on his plate, his breakfast mostly untouched while he warred with the thoughts in his head. 

“You should eat,” chimed Ominis from across the table, tired of listening to the scrape of Sebastian’s fork on the platter. “Don’t you have Quidditch practice in an hour? You’ll need the energy.” 

“Not really hungry,” Sebastian replied monotonously, and you frowned. 

Popping your last piece of sliced fruit in your mouth, you jabbed at Sebastian’s sausage with your fork and held it up to his lips imploringly. “Eat. He’s right, you’ll be useless out there if you’re running on fumes.” 

Pressing the greasy meat to Sebastian’s freckled lips garnered a small smile from him, but that was it. He gingerly pushed your hand away and shook his head, letting his chin fall against his palm with a sigh. “Sorry darling, really though. I think I’ll throw up if I try at this point.” 

Grumbling something about ‘taking better care of himself’, your trio’s attention was then grabbed by the sound of the Great Hall doors being thrown open. The fact that Imelda had the strength to actually make the monstrous slabs of wood ricochet off the wall was terrifying, but the feeling paled in comparison to the fear you felt when your eyes landed on her furious expression. 

“Sallow!” she bellowed over the chatter in the dining room, and a hush seemed to fall over the crowd. “Where the hell have you been?” 

Sebastian’s back was to the doorway, but you watched as his eyes pinched shut at the sound of the Quidditch captain’s voice. Merlin’s beard– this was just what he didn’t need. Ominis fought a smile at the sound of Imelda stomping over to where you were seated, and when she came to stop behind you, you cast a pleading look over your shoulder at her. 

“Imelda, he’s not feeling great today–” 

“Bullshit,” she cut you off, and your mouth snapped shut with an audible crack. “He’s not feeling great but he still has time to run around school instead of coming to practice? I think not. Get your ass up, Sebastian, I’m not letting you miss a third day.” 

His dark eyes made a full circle in his skull, but he sighed, already resigned to his fate. There was no arguing with Imelda when she was in one of her moods, and he knew he’d already done enough to piss her off by blowing off Quidditch practice two days in a row. He wouldn’t put it past her to kick him off the team entirely if he started to grouse. 

Sebastian shot you a smile as he stood from his seat, although it kind of looked more like a grimace. Before he could move to head for the doors, he watched as Imelda snatched the fork you’d skewered his sausage with. She spun towards him, her free hand flying to his face in a split second, and when her fingers pinched his nose and jerked his head up, Sebastian’s mouth was left open long enough for his Captain to shove the food between his lips. 

“Mmph–” the sausage hung limp in Sebastian’s slack mouth, his eyes widening at the brazen action, but Imelda only nodded once, pleased with her handy work. 

“There. Eat that on the way. And you,” she pointed a crooked finger at you, making you pause. “Unless you’re going to drag Sallow’s lazy ass to the field every day this week, stay away from him. He’s useless to me if he can’t play right and something tells me you’re a bigger distraction than you are a help.” 

An indignant sound resonated from your throat, but before you could formulate a retort, Imelda had spun on her heel and was dragging Sebastian out of the Great Hall by the fabric of his cloak. He cast one last irritated glance at you over his shoulder, sausage link perched between his lips, before he disappeared completely from sight, and you scoffed. 

“Unbelievable. Who the hell does she think she is?” 

It was a mostly rhetorical question, but Ominis chuckled across from you and scraped his remaining breakfast into a pile before answering. “She is the Captain of the team. Honestly I’m surprised it took her this long to drag Sebastian back to the field. He has been rather… preoccupied, recently.” 

Exasperated, you exclaimed, “Yeah, with school! She can’t seriously think I’m to blame for him blowing off practice. Sebastian is going to do what he wants to do, we both know that.” 

Ominis shrugged before spooning his last bite into his mouth, choosing his words carefully as he chewed and swallowed. “True. However, you have to admit he has spent every waking minute of his free time this week with you. It’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong, but we also know Sebastian will always prioritize what he likes to do over what he should do.” 

It frustrated you to admit it, but Ominis had a point. Whatever, if Imelda wanted Sebastian to herself to focus on Quidditch, then so be it. The big game against Gryffindor was in three days. You could keep your distance from Sebastian for that long, for his sake and maybe for yours as well. It pained you to admit it, but you had been putting off studying for your exams, preferring to get tangled in the sheets with Sebastian late at night and canoodle like teenagers. 

Convinced the rest of the day would be boring and slow moving, you sighed and rose from your seat. “Come on, let’s head to the library. Might as well spend the next three days catching up on some reading.” 

Ominis neatly organized his cutlery on his plate before plucking his wand from the table and standing. “That’s the spirit. I wouldn’t worry too much, three days is nothing in the grand scheme of things.” 

For some reason, you didn’t believe him. 

—

Imelda made good on her word to keep Sebastian away from you in his free time. Every time you saw him around school he was wearing his Quidditch uniform, grass and dirt stains accumulating on his knees and elbows with each passing hour. He looked beyond haggard, but he seemed to be in good enough spirits when you finally sat beside him in charms class a day later. It was the first chance you’d been given to talk with him since the other morning, and Sebastian seemed as eager to be around you as you were to be beside him. 

“Hey stranger,” he whispered with a smile as Professor Ronan started on a tangent about responsible wand usage. 

Your grin was ear splitting, “Hey yourself. How has practice been going?” 

He shrugged nonchalantly, flipping through his textbook to give the appearance of following along in the lesson. “As good as it can be, I guess. Imelda’s new trials are brutal but effective. I like to think we’ll crush Gryffindor to dust come this weekend.” 

“That’s good. Is she still keeping you on a short leash?” 

At that, Sebastian’s face fell, his brows slamming down in disbelief. “You have no idea. Do you know what she told me after assaulting me with that sausage the other day? She said ‘no hanky-panky until we win the game’. Apparently my having sex is a distraction and she won’t have any of it.” 

Sebastian groaned under his breath when you lifted your hand to muffle your laughter. “Wow, she isn’t messing around this time. Did she put you in a chastity belt or something?” 

“Thank fucking Merlin she hasn’t, but I wouldn’t put it past her. It’s the most counter productive thing I’ve ever heard in my life. How is not having sex going to win us the game? If anything it’s detrimental to my performance– I’m all strung out and whiny.” 

“Honestly, I think it’s just her own unique form of punishment for skipping practice,” you murmured. “Better sort out your time management skills fast, who knows what she’ll do in the future if you start slacking off again.”

Before he could reply, Professor Ronan was instructing the class to pair up and practice a new spell. Free from Imelda’s piercing gaze for one blessed hour, Sebastian didn’t hesitate to place his hand on your shoulder, silently claiming you as his partner. 

The rest of class breezed by fairly quickly, and afterwards when everyone had been dismissed to head out to lunch, you found yourself being led down a corridor into a dark, dusty broom closet by Sebastian. You felt your boyfriend’s hands on your waist as he guided you backwards against the wall, and then his lips were on yours, chasing away the hollow feeling that had existed in your chest since he’d been kidnapped from the Great Hall the day prior. 

It was frantic and desperate, both of you trying in vain to taste as much of the other as possible. Your hands were everywhere; in his hair, scratching down his chest, then underneath the pressed fabric of his dress shirt as your fingers danced across his burning skin. Sebastian’s tongue delved deep in your mouth, swallowing the tiny mewls his kisses pulled from you with deep rooted pride. When his knee nestled itself in between your spread legs and pressed against your core, you couldn’t help but moan loudly at the sensation, wanting instantly to feel more of him after one mere day of trying not to be a distraction. 

As Sebastian’s hand came up to undo the top button of your blouse, light suddenly flooded the dirty closet, sending the two of you scurrying apart flushed and panting. 

“Well well, my little bird was right. You were being naughty. Tsk tsk, Sallow.” Imelda had her hands firmly planted on her hips, an utterly devilish smile playing on her lips. “Out you go, dear. Sebastian needs to eat lunch and then it’s straight to the Quidditch pitch for practice.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Reyes. Is nothing sacred anymore?” Sebastian’s hands raked through his disheveled hair, looking like the textbook definition of ‘frazzled’ and ‘horny’. 

“My rules are sacred, and you damn near broke the most important one. You seriously can’t keep it in your pants for two more days? It’s not like I’m asking you to cut off your manhood and leave it with her. It’s just pathetic at this point.” 

An elaborate string of profanities fell from Sebastian’s lips as he strode out of the closet past Imelda, his hands curled into fists at his side. He said nothing to you on his way out, but you already knew he was in for it now. His erection had been painfully obvious pressed against your thigh through his trousers. 

Imelda was still standing in the doorway, taking in your own unkempt appearance with a coy smirk. “You can have him back after the game, I promise. In the meantime, I would go clean up if I were you. You look like you’re in heat.” 

She turned to leave then, the closet door drifting shut in your face as you gaped at the empty space where she had disappeared from. 

That woman was unbelievable. You silently wished Sebastian luck with the brutal case of blue balls you knew he would be sporting for the rest of the day. 

— 

The game was unbelievably intense. 

Imelda had definitely put her team through the ringer in the days leading up to Saturday, but the same could be said for Gryffindor’s players. Every time Slytherin scored, Gryffindor seemed to bounce back almost instantaneously with a point of their own. Your eyes had been glued to Sebastian the entire time, watching in awe as he zipped around the field and evaded bludgers with a finesse you couldn’t help but cheer for. 

He scored the next point, psyching out Gryffindor’s keeper with a fake throw towards the left hoop before angling his arm at the right one. The quaffle soared through the ring, and the crowd around you roared in support. 

“Sebastian scored!” you exclaimed and grabbed Ominis by his forearm, shaking him wildly with enthusiasm. “It’s fifty to forty now– we might actually win this!” 

“Where is Slytherin’s seeker?” he asked, your excitement palpable enough to get his heart racing. 

You searched the field for the woman in question. Clarisse Brown was scanning the pitch below her from high above, her eyes narrowed in concentration. All the noise from the stands did little to deter her focus, and you watched with rapt interest as her gaze zero’d in on the Gryffindor seeker across the way. 

“She’s close to the goal post on her side– no hang on, she’s diving! She’s following Gryffindor’s seeker, I think they’ve spotted the snitch.” 

Everything else happened so quickly, you barely had time to commentate any of it to Ominis before you were watching the two seekers tumble against the grass after the tiny, golden ball. A hush fell over the crowd as the players untangled their limbs from the ground, but then it was Clarisse shooting upright, the snitch clasped victoriously in her hand. 

“She caught it– Slytherin got the snitch! They won!” 

The celebration started almost instantly. Throes of screaming students funneled down onto the field to hoist Clarisse high above their heads, whooping and cheering and chanting songs to praise the hard earned triumph. 

You and Ominis stayed in the safety of the emptying stands, but even from far away, you saw Sebastian’s head turn towards you. His gaze was one of thrilled success, and when he took in the sight of you beaming at him, a different sort of look passed over his features. 

One that you were eager to see up close. 

—

The Slytherin team certainly knew how to throw an after party. The common room was in a celebratory uproar, goblets of spiked pumpkin juice being passed around as chatter filled every nook and cranny of the otherwise dim, quiet room. Truly, you’d never seen it so packed. 

Sebastian didn’t give a shit though. He didn’t care about toasting to his team’s victory, nor did he care to even congratulate Clarisse on catching the snitch in the first place. 

No, all he cared about was getting you upstairs on his bed. 

You had no choice but to practically skip to keep up with Sebastian’s long-legged stride as he led you to his dorm. His grip on your wrist was like a vice, unrelenting as he weaved through the scattered groups of people you encountered on the way. A few of them looked as though they wanted to congratulate him– maybe even strike up an actual conversation– but the look on his face must have been downright primal, because everyone of them backed up with wide eyes and hushed whispers. 

You flushed under their knowing stares. Merlin.

When Sebastian tugged you through the threshold of the dorm, his lips were on yours in a heartbeat. He pressed you against the still closing door, and as it latched shut, you were jolted by the weight of Sebastian leaning against you. His hands were winding in your hair, tugging you against his mouth urgently in some desperate attempt to taste you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kicking your legs up to hook around his waist as you shamelessly rolled your hips against his, and the throaty growl he let loose had heat pooling in your gut instantly. 

“Worst fucking week of my life,” he groaned the statement against your lips, and you couldn’t help but snicker. “I’m serious, I’m gonna kick Imelda’s ass if she ever tries to impose her rules on me again.” 

That wasn’t going to cut it. You hadn’t spent the last three days waiting to get your boyfriend back from Imelda for him to start talking about her with his cock rutting against you. “Can you not bring up Imelda and just fuck me already?” 

An animalistic sound came from Sebastian then, and he pulled away from your lips long enough to stare at you in a way that had you dizzy with arousal. “With pleasure, darling.” 

He was quick to throw you down on his bed, hastily muttering a locking charm on the door before he tossed his wand on the dresser and ripped his jersey over his shoulders. The dried sweat on his skin glimmered against the glow from the hearth in the center of the room, leaving your mouth watering, and you rushed to kick off your boots to speed things along. 

Sebastian was on you in an instant, kissing you senseless as one deft hand slid under your waistband and flicked the button open. He trailed his soft lips down the curve of your jaw, then lower along your neck, and he paused to suck at the skin there as he tugged your trousers down from your hips. You lifted your ass to assist, and once the restrictive material was gone, Sebastian straddled your waist so he could press his clothed member against the thin cotton of your undergarments firmly. 

You moaned at the contact, tilting your head back to grant him easier access to your fluttering pulse. He licked a broad stripe down the sensitive skin of your throat while his hands began undoing the clasps of your shirt. 

Sebastian’s gravelly voice vibrated against the wet skin of your neck, snapping you out of your pleasure induced daze. “Do you want me to bend you over or do you want to look at me while I fuck you?” 

Damn. “I-I want to see you. Feel like I haven’t had the chance to all week.” Your hands punctuated the statement by trailing up the delicious curve of his spine, drawing a shiver from him. “Is that okay? What do you want?” 

When he pulled away from your flushed neck, his eyes darkened immeasurably further, and the longer strands of his hair falling into his face gave him the appearance of some impassioned, sex-driven lunatic– but you weren’t about to start complaining. Not when he scooched down your prone form to start unbuttoning your shirt, and certainly not when he poked his tongue through his lips in thoughtful concentration. 

“I just want you, I don’t care about anything else. Fuck– not even jerking off helped– it’s like there was a mental block I couldn’t get past.” The last button fell open, and Sebastian slid the material off of your shoulders, his eyes hungrily roving over your naked body. His fingers trailed up your smooth stomach before kneading your breasts in his heated palms, drawing a strangled gasp from your throat. “Did you touch yourself at all this week or were you waiting for me?” 

You were embarrassed to admit that you had tried, but before you could tell him as much, Sebastian was pinching your nipples slightly and twisting, causing you to arch into his touch as a high-pitched moan sounded from your kiss swollen lips. “Mm, Sebastian–” 

The sound of your voice threatened to send him over the edge right then and there. “There is no wrong answer, I’m only curious…” 

He trailed off, lessening his ministrations against your breasts so you could reply. “Y-Yes. I tried, but it wasn’t the same. It never is.” 

That cocky smirk was taking up his entire face, and you knew then you should have just lied, because now his ego was bound to grow out of control. 

“It never is, hm? Then what do you want– what do you need to get off? Say the words, darling, and it’s yours.” 

Despite the delectable feeling of his hands working you into a frenzy, you wanted to smother him for taking so long. Was three days worth of stolen glances and a crippling case of blue balls not enough to push him into action? Of course not. Typical of him to still find a way to make you beg for what you knew he wanted more than anything. 

Your hands flew up to grip the belt loops on his painfully tight trousers, tugging his hips down so they were flush with the slick cloth separating your heat from him. “I need you– I need your cock inside of me, please Sebastian. My fingers just aren’t the same–” 

He silenced you with a particularly aggressive kiss, breathing heavily against your cheek as his teeth came to nibble at your bottom lip before he pulled away entirely to unfasten his belt. You’d never seen him move so quickly, his quidditch trousers coming to pool in a wrinkled heap against the stone floor, and then it was just his briefs in the way. They disappeared just as fast, his cock springing free and arching proud against the hair below his navel, and then Sebastian was scaling up the bed like a predator. 

When he kissed you again, he started to slide your soaked panties away, letting you kick them off when they got too low for him to follow. He placed his fingers against your overwhelmingly slick entrance, relishing in the needy gasp his featherlight touch pulled from you. 

You caved completely to Sebastian as he pushed a slender digit inside, working you open slowly as your spine curved off the mattress and you whined loud. Sebastian let himself bask in the sight of you for a moment despite his baser urges; you looked great spread for him like this, rocking down onto his finger as your hands fisted in the sheets beneath you, and when you cracked open your half-hooded eyes to gaze up at him, the tenderness in your expression tugged at something in his chest. 

Tentatively, Sebastian added a second finger, slowly pushing inside you and pausing briefly to give you a chance to adjust to the intrusion, but you were already writhing under him, feebly searching for something more. 

“Something the matter?” he purred the question, feeling rather smug when you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“N-Not to be ungrateful, but your fingers aren’t cutting it– ah!”

Sebastian had pulled his hand back and plunged his digits back in, crooking the tips of his fingers up in search of that magical spot that always reduced you to a moaning mess, and it didn’t take him long to find it. He knew your body better than you did. “Not cutting it, huh?” 

You shivered as he proceeded to rub the long appendages along your pulsing walls, seemingly focused on hitting your sweet spot every time, and Merlin, was he succeeding. The pleasure was undeniable, your stomach tensing and twitching as warmth rapidly pooled in your gut, and when the pad of Sebastian’s thumb came to roughly press against your clit, there was no stopping the keening sob that ripped from your mouth. It was glorious– absolutely everything you had been dreaming about all week– and you frantically clawed at the tops of Sebastian’s rounded shoulders in a silent plea. 

“Fuck, please Sebastian– I want you– I wanna come on your cock, I’m not gonna last long, please–” 

He was pulling his fingers out of you in a flash, those strong hands coming to grab at your hips and haul you down the bed so you were flush with his leaking member. The feeling of your slick rubbing against his shaft had him seeing stars, and when he aligned himself and finally pressed into your welcoming heat, his head tipped back as a groan slipped through his clenched teeth. 

“Merlin, you’re so fucking perfect– fuck–” 

It wasn’t a slow descent by any means, but it wasn’t fast either, and you were grateful seeing as it gave you the chance to really feel Sebastian’s cock fill you up. The blunt head reached so deep, way deeper than his fingers or your own, and your nerves lit on fire when he pulled back and rammed into you, his skin slapping against the shapely curve of your ass. Every sensation amplified the fire that had nearly crashed through you minutes earlier, and once he set a steady rhythm, you were writhing in earnest underneath him. 

“Shit,” you gasped after one especially rough thrust. “Fuck, fuck, Sebastian–”

“F-Feel good, darling?” Sebastian whispered, adjusting his grip on you so he could lean closer, and the new angle allowed him to shamelessly rut against you after each plunge of his cock, his own orgasm building quickly after three days of torturing himself without you. 

“Yes, fuck yes, s-so good– right there–” 

The sight of you moving harder against him, panting and keening and trembling, pulled filthy praises and moans alike from Sebastian’s lips. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted to cum so bad in his life– his pace had a mind of its own as he brainlessly thrusted into you, relishing in the feeling of you shaking and tightening around him before your nails were scraping deliciously down his back, and the sting had his cock twitching in a telling manner inside of you. 

“I’m gonna come darling, I’m– fuck–”

You beat him to it, his aggressive tempo sending you falling over the edge with a loud, drawn out cry of his name. Sebastian fucked you hard and fast through it, taking advantage of your pulsing heat to chase his own orgasm as he wound his fingers through your unruly hair and tugged hard enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

That did it.

Sebastian buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth biting at your collarbone as he whimpered your name over and over before his hips faltered and he was coming deep, and the sound of his moans coupled with the feeling of him filling you to the brim only served to push you higher. 

Completely spent, Sebastian let most of his weight fall on top of you as the ebbing waves of his orgasm coursed through him. 

“Holy fuck,” he heard you mutter from beneath him, and he cracked open a bleary eye to see you gazing contentedly at the ceiling. Removing his fingers from your hair to trail lightly over your cheek, you let him drag your face into a lazy, satisfied kiss, the lush scent of him filling your brain with mind numbing bliss. “Mm, missed you.” 

Sebastian’s voice was muffled against your lips when he spoke, “Never agreeing to something like that again. Quidditch can fuck right off– I don’t care.” 

Snickering quietly, you wrapped your arms around his sweaty back and tugged him sideways firmly so you could lay on top of him, careful of where the two of you were still connected. “And here I was going to say this was almost worth the wait.”

“Then you, my dear, are a sick and twisted masochist.” 

That got a real laugh out of you. “Hardly. When I think about it, it was nice seeing you in your uniform all sweaty for three days. Lots of dirty thoughts to fill in the gaps.” 

The awareness in his eyes came flooding back as he stared up at you wide-eyed, and you made a point to commit his gaping expression to memory. “You… wait, what?” 

You fought a smile as you shrugged nonchalantly, “You look good in a uniform. What else is there to say?” 

Following the bob of his throat as he swallowed, Sebastian’s voice sounded tight when he asked, “Do you want me to put it back on?” 

“Not now,” your fingers traced the sharp outline of his collarbones, gliding lower until they came to splay in the sparse collection of hair at the center of his hips. “I can think of a few other things I’d like to watch you do instead of strip all over again.” 

“Only a few?” 

“You’re incorrigible.” 

The rest of the night went by in a blur, with everyone celebrating Slytherin’s victory in the common room by drinking and dancing. All the while, you and Sebastian stayed sequestered in his dorm, intending on taking full advantage of the locked door before his roommates inevitably returned to soil the fun. You two would never need to know that Imelda stood guard at the bottom of the stairs, shooing away any meandering students to different wings of the foyer. It would be her own secret to keep. 

After all, she figured she kind of owed it to you for being such a good sport about the whole thing. 

[shuaboo]

jealous sex with filo!haobin 💋

a/n: this was a request, thank you sm anon! i’m sorry this took so long. i had terrible writers block writing this, hence why it’s not the best! but nevertheless, i hope you enjoy. sorry for the rushed ending, going all the way would make it too long and i have 0 ideas:(

jealousy isn’t an uncommon feeling being with hanbin and hao. people always seem to assume that you’re all just a close group of friends.

that’s exactly what happened today. a guy approached the table during your dinner date, and asked for your number. obviously, you immediately turned down his offer but that didn’t stop your boyfriends from being jealous.

as you got home, they immediately have their hands and lips all over your body. your neck, collarbone, shoulders, tits, ass, everywhere. you’re sandwiched between your two jealous boyfriends, and there’s no other place you’d want to be in.

“should we leave our marks on her? para alam ng mga tao na sa atin lang siya? hm?” should we leave our marks on her? so people know she’s ours? hm?. says hao, who is now leading you to your shared bedroom. “maybe. that way wala nang lalapit na lalaki sa baby natin, isn’t that right?” maybe. that way guys won’t approach our baby anymore, isn’t that right? hanbin replies, now setting you down on the bed.

hao helps you out of your clothes, leaving you bare beneath him and hanbin. “fuck, ang ganda mo, mahal. i can’t blame that guy from earlier for trying to ask you out, sobrang sarap mo tignan.” fuck, you’re so pretty, love. i can’t blame that guy from earlier for trying to ask you out, you’re eye-candy. he says as he stares at you, before attacking your upper body with kisses. he nips and sucks at your neck, leaving dark marks before moving down to your chest and tummy area.

hanbin on the other hand, has his eyes set on your center. he spreads your legs, revealing your wet, glistening pussy to him. “basang basa ka, i can’t wait to taste you.” you’re so wet, i can’t wait to taste you. finally, he goes down on you. he starts by kissing and lightly sucking your clit to stimulate pleasure, before licking a stripe up your slit. “we’re gonna make you cum so many times, you’ll go dumb and only remember us.” he skillfully uses his tongue, entering your hole. he knows how to make you feel good. using both his mouth and hands, he eats you out like you’re his last meal. “f-fuck! hanbin, i’m gonna cum—“ he smirks against your pussy, rubbing your clit harder and abusing your hole with his tongue faster. as you cum, he doesn’t stop. “w-wait! hanbin, tigil stop! sensitive pa ako! i’m still sensitive”

your words go unheard and hao decides to join you once again, stroking his cock in his hand. “shh, pretty. we told you, right? we’re going to fuck you and make you cum until its only our names that you scream and think of. now open up for me.” he slaps his tip on your lip, waiting for you to open up for him. as you open, he slowly pushes his cock in your mouth. he groans at the vibrations your muffled moans bring to his cock, as hanbin continues to lick up and make out with your pussy. “fuck.. i’ll go slow muna. then after, i’ll fuck this pretty throat of yours.”

you look up at him, eyes brimming with tears. he chuckles. “hah, you look like such a slut. hanbin is tongue deep in your pussy while you lay there and take my cock in your mouth.” he grabs a fistful of your hair, making you take more of him. hanbin pulls off your pussy for a second to speak. “but s’okay, because you’re our slut. our pretty doll molded for us to touch, love, and fuck. isn’t that right, hao?” hao smirks, speaking in between his own moans. “f-fuuuck, you- you’re taking my cock so well- of- of course, she’s our pretty girl. prettiest out there— even other dudes want her, but they never will, because she’s all ours. r-right angel?”

you pull of his cock, voice raspy. “y-yes! ‘m all yours… only want you two…” hanbin smiles against your clit, kissing it. and hao pulls your mouth back on his cock. “that’s right. this greedy little slut is only for us to claim.”

to summarize, the pleasure of being claimed by both of your boyfriends is… a lot. they’ll make sure you remember who you truly belong to, with no fail. but that’s fine. because sex is always better when they’re feelin’ particularly possessive and mean <3.

[ryuichirou]

Ohh!!!! I'd love to know your thoughts on what each character's favorite kissing style is :) Long and slow, sloppy, clean, short and sweet, quick rapidfire kisses, teething at the lips, kissing as much and as often as possible, or only giving a kiss as a special reward.... Whatever comes to mind ^^ ❤️

Anon!! This is another ask that got us very excited even though it took this long to actually reply lol, but I really like this type of asks, because it makes us think about everyone.

One thing that I would like to note is that when I look at the cast, I feel like quite a lot of them don’t have much/any experience with kissing, and would probably be bad at it. With that in mind, I kind of ended up roasting a lot of the boys lol I’m sorry. I hope it’ll still be a fun read~

Without further ado, let’s talk about how bad these boys are at kissing, and what kind of kissing style they prefer, if any.

Riddle is one of the worst kissers in the entire cast. He has read tons of literature about the topic, a lot of articles and books, but as you can imagine, none of that translates into actual real life kissing. If I was to describe his kissing style, it would be “surprisingly eager, but also anxious at the same time”. But he tries his best!

Ace and Deuce are also both horrible kissers. One would assume that Ace would be alright at it because he actually used to have a girlfriend at some point, but he only kissed her like once and then decided that he just didn’t like kissing. The plot twist was that he didn’t like kissing girls. Regardless, he is still bad at it.

And Deuce is sliiiightly better because he has more experience because of his bad boy past, but these two kissing is painful… it looks painful for these two (are you guys kissing or fighting?) and it is painful for anyone who watches them. So their kissing style is somewhat aggressive, even though Deuce doesn’t mind soft kisses.

Trey is the type of person who would say that he is actually terrible at kissing because he has no experience, but suddenly ends up being an amazing kisser. He is also very nice to kiss because of his dental hygiene and attention to his lover’s gums and teeth. He is gentle and caressing. And annoying; what do you mean “I’m bad at it”?? Fuck you, Trey-

Cater is actually a good kisser. He has some experience, but his problem is that he never really feels anything when he gets to kiss someone. But he also doesn’t mind kissing anyone he finds attractive or fun to kiss, hence the experience: he’s going to be out of town soon anyway, so who cares. Cater’s entire thing is way too depressing I’m sorry… But technique-wise he is probably quite versatile and doesn’t have a favourite style.

Leona is also a good and experienced kisser. He seems aggressive, but he is usually provoking, as if poking a person he kisses to make them do all the work for him. I should also mention that all the Savanaclaw boys sometimes lick their lovers’ cheeks and lips, and this counts as kissing too.

Ruggie is an amazing kisser, because he used to take money for that.  Savanaclaw is full of horny virgins who want to get their first kiss or to get better at kissing, and Ruggie doesn’t mind smooching anyone for a good price. He also probably doesn’t have a favourite kissing style, but that’s because he ties kissing and business so closely together: he’s yet to meet anyone who he would genuinely want to kiss for free/without any type of gain.

Jack has never kissed before, so he doesn’t have a favourite kissing style… but if he did, it would probably be both animalistic and gentle; he would actually lick and bite his partner a lot.

Azul is very bad at kissing, he is actually quite similar to Riddle (he did his research too…), but sliiiiightly better. He isn’t all that interested in kissing, because he sees no point in it, but if there was some gain in it for him or if he was provoked, he could spend an entire week learning how to kiss just to prove a point. He doesn’t have a favourite kissing style, but whenever he kisses, it feels like his goal is to dominate his partner. Or to suck their tongue out of their mouth idk.

Jade has never been asked to kiss someone :( If you talked to him about it, he would make it seem like he is very upset and self-conscious about it. But in reality he doesn’t really care: just like Azul, he isn’t really interested in kissing. I think his kisses would be suffocating, I don’t know how to explain it though…

Floyd kisses a lot. Floyd kisses a lot and Floyd is one hell of a messy kisser. There is a lot of tongue, teeth and saliva (sometimes even fingers) involved whenever Floyd kisses a person. People usually assume that this is just how merpeople kiss, but if you ask another merperson, they would say “uhhhhhh no???”; no one knows why Floyd is the way he is… The plot twist is that Floyd is actually a very good kisser. He can kiss a person without biting their tongue off, he can even be pleasantly gentle. He just doesn’t want to, this is why his kissing style is uhhh UNIQUE I guess.

Also, Floyd probably has the biggest kiss-count when it comes to specifically kissing other NRC students: the boy is a kissing machine when he is in the mood.

Jamil is an amazing kisser. It’s a mystery why he is such an amazing kisser; does he have a lot of experience?? Who knows. He is passionate, hot, slow, but also teasing: Jamil clearly knows what he’s doing whenever he kisses a person.

Kalim is a horrible kisser with 0 experience, but he is very eager to learn. He’s going to ask Jamil to teach him, and after ~6 hours of kissing he would go “ah-ha-ha, I still don’t know how to kiss! Sorry, Jamil! But it felt really good!” with Jamil in agony because his mouth hurts after Kalim’s passionate attacks on his tongue and cheeks…

Vil is quite a good kisser, he has practiced a lot. He is affectionate and teasing when he is in the right mood, but he usually isn’t a fan of kissing. Mostly because a lot of times it doesn’t happen at the right time + ruins his makeup. He also isn’t a fan of kissing roles, because whenever he has to kiss someone on-screen or on-stage, everyone makes too big of a deal out of it and goes completely batshit crazy on twitter.

Rook is such a great kisser it’s actually scary. When they shared their first kiss, Vil was absolutely certain that Rook is going to be bad at it, act all barbarian-like and maybe bite his face off, but for some reason Rook has this stupidly amazing talent for kissing. I don’t know how exactly to describe his kissing style, but he just knows all the right spots to touch and all the right ways to angle his face to make the kiss deeper and more pleasant. This doesn’t mean that he can’t be aggressive or a little bit feral, mind you.

Epel is also one of the worst kissers out of the cast: he doesn’t have much experience being around other kids his age, so this whole kissing business is like another language for him. But if someone was to talk to him about it, he would flex so hard as if his life fucking depends on it lol He also tries to be as aggressive and passionate as possible whenever he kisses. For some reason, he gets into harder=better mentality, maybe out of his own insecurities. Epel has so much to learn…

Idia also has zero experience, obviously. But he also doesn’t really want to experience kissing, partially because he doesn’t see any reason to, partially because of his insecurities. If anyone was to try to kiss Idia, Idia would protest by rationalizing and naming all the reasons why it is a bad idea. He’ll name such reasons as “have you seen my teeth? Yes, exactly”, something of this sort. Stuff that doesn’t necessarily sound like “I am a loser and I am terrified of embarrassing myself”, but instead sounds like “this is a horrible idea; you aren’t really smart, I guess”. But if he was to kiss with someone, he would probably just freeze with his mouth open… he really needs someone to guide him, otherwise it won’t work.

Ortho is actually very good at kissing! You wouldn’t believe that this is his first kiss. He would get prepared for it by reading all the articles and books and watching all the movies, but his result would be much more impressive than Riddle’s and Azul’s. Maybe it’s because he analyzes the information and applies it to himself differently… but yeah, he’s downloading a library of kissing styles as we speak. And he is eager to try all of them!

Sebek is horrible at kissing… He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t understand how to make it pleasant or not wet, but if the person he’s kissing is Worthy (and if he is kissing them, they usually are, unless it’s Idia…), he’ll try his best. Like a very eager, but aggressive puppy. Similarly to Riddle, he is both eager and anxious, but more aggressive. He also bites a lot…

Silver is quite experienced and overall pretty good at kissing. He isn’t aggressive at all, he doesn’t drool too much, he knows that he’s doing even when he’s feeling sleepy; it’s like muscle memory. His kissing style is sweet, soft and nice. I would describe him as gentle and princely.

Lilia, however, pretty much assaults every mouth he kisses. He used to pretty bad at kissing, but at this point in his life has gotten amazingly good (I guess this is what sleeping around and being a war criminal does to a person). But he still prefers to get aggressive, overwhelming and greedy. It’s very weird, when you consider that his own mouth is small and cute, but I guess looks can be deceiving.

Malleus is, and I’m sorry for saying that, quite underwhelming. He is flirty, teasing and provoking, but after all this build-up, when a person actually gets to kiss him, it almost feels… lame? But it’s not like he is bad, it’s just that because of all the flirting the contrast hits harder, I guess. He never gets a chance to kiss, okay? He’ll get better after he gets more kisses. But similarly to Idia, I feel like he needs someone to guide him.

[starfleetimagines]

Slow and Steady [C. Chapel]

Pairing: Christine x female reader

Word count: ~1k

Summary: Y/N and Christine are best friends. After spending the day together, Y/N admits to not only being bisexual but having feelings for Christine, too.

Notes: Requested by an anon. This is my first time writing for Christine and my first full Trek fic in a while, so I apologize at its quality. Still accepting queer prompts for Pride month!

Tag list: @agent-catfish-kenobi @space-helen @plaguedoctorsnake @shadyfirecollector

Yours and Christine’s laughs bounce of the walls of the corridor as you make your way through the ship.

“I can’t believe you almost let me buy that,” you say between laughs.

Christine grins at you. “I didn’t know what it was! If I had realized sooner I would have stopped you before the shopkeeper came over.”

You roll your eyes, but smile. While the Enterprise is docked at a space station for a few meetings, most of the crew has been granted some R&R time, either on the station or on the ship. You and Christine decided to have a friend date on the station and see what it had to offer. You went to a few restaurants and a bar, visited a Vulcan meditation garden, visited an old fashioned movie theatre, and walked around the shopping level where you almost bought a Klingon sex toy.

In your defense, the shop had been called Treasures of the Galaxy and boasted their collection of items from all different worlds. What you thought was a pretty vase had been sometime else entirely. Luckily no one other than Christine had witnessed that, so at least you wouldn’t be teased about it by anyone else.

“I would have bought it for you if I’d known you were so into that kind of thing,” she muses teasingly.

You shove her shoulder and scoff. “You’re terrible.”

“I know.” She flashes you a grin and you can’t help but smile.

When you reach your quarters, you tilt your head to the side. “Want to come in? It’s not too late.”

Christine smiles cheekily. “Why, Y/N, if I had known I would be invited over I would have at least paid for dinner.”

You smirk and open the door. “You can buy next time.”

“So my lack of date etiquette hasn’t put you off?” she asks as she walks backwards into your quarters.

You laugh, though you wish you were both being serious. “Not in the slightest.”

“Good. Because I need someone to explore places with me.” She walks to your couch and gestures for you to sit with her. “Spock will only do so much with me.”

You give her a look as you sit next to her. “I thought you were over that.”

“What? Over Spock?” She smiles and leans her elbow against the back of the couch, propping her cheek against her closed fist. “I am. Don’t get me wrong, he’s amazing to look at, and I like spending time with him, but that silly little crush is long gone.”

“Oh.” You hope she can’t see the relief on your features.

“But speaking of crushes,” she drawls, shifting to pull her knees up. “That guy at the bar was totally flirting with you.”

“What?” You scoff.

Christine raises an eyebrow and smiles. “He was cute. You should have asked him out.”

You shook your head and looked away. “I didn’t really notice.”

“Really?” She laughs quietly.

“I was distracted,” you reply simply and you lean your foot out to nudge her ankle.

“Oh come on, I’m not that distracting,” she defends with another laugh.

You shrug and smile at her softly. “You can be.”

Christine rolls her eyes playfully. “Well, I’m sorry for cockblocking you, then.”

You laugh at her choice of words. “You didn’t. I… Kind of have my eye on someone else, anyway.”

Christine leans forward, eager to learn more. “Oh? What’s his name?”

You shift and clear your throat. Christine doesn’t know that you’re bi. She’s only ever heard about your ex—a guy you dated at the academy—and your attraction to women never really came up. You didn’t want your coming out to her being you admitting your feelings for her, but… The way she looks at you, the way she touches you every chance she gets, the way she laughs with you… It gives you hope that maybe the feelings are mutual.

“Um. Her name,” you mumble.

“Oh,” Christine says, then shrugs a little and smiles. “Okay, what’s her name?”

You try to hide a grin. Of course, you knew she’d react fine. She herself isn’t straight, and you knew it wouldn’t really be a big thing. But sharing this part of yourself with her, no matter how she feels about you, feels freeing and comforting.

“Um,” you repeat. “Her name is Christine.”

You see her eyebrows furrow and her lips part slightly.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, and you try your best to ignore it as you move closer. “It’s you. I uh. Maybe kind of have a crush on you? And I know you’re not—not really big on commitment and relationships stress you out and we don’t have to do anything or—or be anything but um—I thought you should know—”

Christine leans forward and cups your cheek with her warm, soft hand. “Y/N,” she says softly.

Your tongue darts out between your lips and you meet her gaze. You see a tenderness in her eyes that makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N,” she repeats, quieter this time, barely a whisper. Then she closes the gap between the two of you and kisses you. You involuntarily sigh through your nose and lean closer. The kiss is short, only lasting a few moments, but you’re both smiling stupidly when it ends.

“Wow,” you whisper, and Christine giggles.

“You’re adorable,” she says, leaning up to feather a kiss to your forehead.

Blushing you smile. “So… Can we consider today our first official date?”

Christine smiles, too, but she leans back a little bit. “I… I want to. But… You said it yourself, relationships stress me out.” When your smile falls, she quickly continues, “I want to try it though! With you, I… you make me feel like I could do it. But I just. Can we go slow?”

You wrap your arms around her neck loosely and nod. “Of course. We can go at whatever pace makes you most comfortable. I get it, I really do. I’m not going anywhere.”

Christine visibly relaxes and she sighs. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I try,” you reply with a smile.

Laughing quietly, Christine leans closer and kisses you again and this time, it lasts longer than just a few moments.

[fishedeyelenz]

*sniffles* the…..*sobbing* the gentle ask…..*wipes nose on sleeve* ugh with Billy I just…*cries into hands*

Hnnnng oh Billy….how I long to be gentle with him!! I’m a very meek person, I’m very slow and cautious….so, I’m very good at being gentle, not to mention I bloody love being gentle and soft! And there’s this thing I want to do with Billy SO SO SO SO BADLY!!! Okay so, growing up and stuff, my mama would hold us or my cousins and she would just gently ever so softly, run her fingers all over our faces to soothe us and to help us fall asleep, she rub her finger up our nose bridge and follow our eyebrows and then barely run her fingers down our face and it’s like a spell lol. And even now, I’m twenty four, but she still does that to me when I’m in the hospital and having a rough go of it (I’m in the hospital a lot lol) and it’s just….TERRIBLY nice.

I desperately long to do that to Billy!!! I just wanna…slowly, and quietly, and warmly, just get cozy in bed with him, I want to make him feel safe, and I would just happily run my fingers in his face, and I would hope it would just, make him melt, like a kitten when you start to pet them and they close their eyes and lean into it and start purring!! I think one of the reasons I would love to do that with him, is cause I love animals terribly, I love being very soft and slow, and winning their trust, and it’s so pure and sweet when they feel safe around you, and Billy reminds me of that, like a feral scared animal used to kids running after him and kicking him for fun, like he didn’t even know it was possibly a human could touch him without hurting him, let alone so sweetly and lovingly and now he’s purring and feels utterly at peace and follows you cause now he’s addicted!! I mean, isn’t that just the sweetest? Isn’t that the most gentle of things? A soul trusting you so, feeling at home with you, unashamed of affection? I mean…..*starts crying again* ooooooooooogghh

(sorry for replying so late, was revising and editing a fic of mine. thank you for your patience anon)

MY MOTHER DID THAT TO ME TOO WHEN I WAS VERY LITTLE, THE FUCK!!!! I think Billy would love having someone doing that to him, to get to be so vulnerable with someone. Of course, it would take a long time for the partner to get to that point, as you said, he never knew such kindness and fear of other people still takes over him frequently... but when he gets to that point, gets in those moods, as you perfectly put it, he would be addicted. He would want nothing more then your touch and your soothing and just augh!!! so soft! and ofc he would purr.... cat boy.

I imagine it would take months of you two knowing each other for you to do this, and in the comfort of your bedroom you would soothe him after a very hard day, his face illuminated by lamplight. And he would start breaking down after a few caresses, but if you tried to pull away, he would grab your hand and put it back to his face, whispering and mumbling and whimpering for more. And like that, till he falls asleep.

There isn't really that much more I can add, you put it perfectly in your ask, and it made me very soft when I read it <3 Sorry to hear about your stints at the hospital, I truly wish you all the luck and health. And truly, human connection as you described, is just what everyone needs, even fucked up attic men </3 I'm glad you have someone to comfort you <3

Thank you for sending in the ask, and good luck to you!!

[aquaburst3]

Hey same anon who asked for the RSA/heroic Yuu fics. Sorry for the late reply. Just wanna say thanks for the fics! I just enjoy more heroic Yuus or nice Yuus than the ones who just kinda seem tired overall and act like they want to die. I didnt know how else to describe these types of Yuus so I just went with sassy and annoyed by everyone. Even if the twst guys were mean to me I would be too nice to try and fight back because their backstories are just so sad. But I wouldnt let them step all over me thats a given. I have a strange attraction to heroic people ig.

Eh, it's cool. We all have different tastes in characters.

With me, it's whether or not I connect with the protagonist. I enjoy fics with "nicer" Yuus and ones with more cynical or sassy ones. It all depends on how well written the story and the protagonist is. Though, I admit I have a preference for more "realistic" ones where they react to the story like real people and have large flaws that they need to overcome as people. I think that's what should matter most at the end of the day, whether or not you connect with the MC.

Though, now that you broadened the definition a bit, I have some more. "Through The Glassy Lens" by iram0123, the "Twisted Memories" series by LeaderPinhead, "A Million and One Minutia" by GrayAthena and "Once Upon a Dream" by AvionVadion are also worth checking out. They all have realistic and fun female "Yuus". The second one is my favourite, even if I wouldn't call that Yuu "overly heroic".

As a heads up, only the second one has updated recently. AvionVadion said that they were taking a hiatus until the Diasomnia arc is completed on the JP server due to Malleus being a major character and wanting to have his lore be as canon accurate as possible. (I personally don't agree with that, and I'm coming up with my own shit for mine due to canon lore being terrible and making zero sense. But, whatever. Their fic, their choice.) Iram0123 is just a general slow updater. Granted, there's nothing wrong with this. Writing fics is for fun and in some cases is used to improve your writing skills to publish one day. People are allowed to update their shit at any pace they want. I just wanted to give a heads up, just in case.

[one-abuse-survivor]

im struggling so much lol. im the anon who mentioned on christmas that going back brought no feelings up and stuff, and the one who moved into their uncles place,but once i got home and slept ans stuff it hit me like a truck. i couldnt stop shaking my heart rate was so high and i couldnt believe i went near my dad or like the same house as him lmao. the memories have been coming back one by one since then and its just so draining and i dont really know how to cope. im trying my hardest to not fall back into old patterns and self destructive behaviours but, with each memory comes like a new self revealation?? like i always thought i was okay, that despite all i went through im actually doing moderately okay for myself. but nope. im realising now that i have terrible social skills and cant even keep a conversation going because theres so much fear inside me about messing up and being screamed at and threatend, and i have some major trust issues lmao god damn its insane its all just mindblowing to get all at once i want it to slow down a bit lol. idk im finding hard to balance my work life, social life and now all this 'new' trauma and the pain and memories it just makes me feel so hurt and angry at my parents like why couldnt they just be normal parents??but its been validating on new years eve though. they apparently argued right as the clock hit midnight and were awful to eachother the whole time ( my sister told me). just like they did last year, and the many more before that. they havent changed at all which to me is very validating because i was constantly told that theyve changed lol. thanks for letting me vent, i hope your new year went as well as it couldve gone :))

Just saw this ask right after replying to your previous one. I'm really sorry you went through this, nonnie. It's so awful when trauma hits you like a truck this way and all the emotions feel suffocating and overwhelming. I really hope you gave yourself time to grieve the childhood/adolescence you could've had and to feel all the anger you need to feel.

It sounds like the reason you didn't feel scared or triggered while you were with your parents might've been because your body simply didn't feel safe enough to feel all those emotions in their presence. That might be why they hit you hours later when you were already back home; that's probably when your body felt safe enough to let them all out.

It's always hard to realise how much you're struggling, and it's no wonder you wanted it all to slow down. I hope you know it's okay to tackle all of these issues one at a time and at your own pace. You don't have to face all of these struggles at once. And the fact you're struggling with so many things now doesn't mean you always will. Things do get so much better with time and support.

And, yeah, abusive parents (&co) do tend to claim that they've changed and they're no longer who they used to be. 99.9% of the time, that's just an attempt to guilt-trip the victim into falling back into the abuse, and completely untrue. But even in the 0.1% of cases when abusers really have changed, they have no right to contact their victims to tell them as much. Their victims don't owe them literally anything, much less forgiveness or another chance. So, yeah, I'm glad you got confirmation that their claims were bullshit, and I hope you know you do not owe your parents anything; not even to hear them out when they claim to have changed.

You're welcome for letting you vent; I'm glad I could provide a space to do so! Sending a huge virtual hug. Hope you're doing well ❤

[versadies]

Hello, I'm a new follower! ヾ(•ω•`)o Can I kindly request Scorpio for Scaramouche where he pretends to not care when the reader is about to die (fails terribly) but grows more anxious? And it's an angst drabble btw :D Also congrats on 1k followers! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o [Aah sorry if I used too many kaomojis]

until death (drabble)

penpal: thank you for the follow 💗💗 and no worries on the kaomojis, i LOVE them sm <<3 hope this is angsty enough for you anon!

prompt: scorpio the scorpion, near-death soulmate au

pairing/s: scaramouche x gn!reader

sypnosis: sometimes, scaramouche wished he followed his guts.

includes: harbinger!reader, ooc!scaramouche (?), character death, mentions of blood and violence, angst/no-comfort, this isn’t a fluffy fic. this story isn’t connected to the newest archon quest !

“i’ll be back, alright? just wait for a while and i’ll be back with the raiden shogun’s gnosis.” you said, stopping yourself from following your superior— la signora —to look back at your lover, who’s rather not pleased from the sudden order you were given by the said superior.

scaramouche rolled his eyes, looking away from your gaze. “yeah whatever. don’t keep me waiting for long, will you?”

you smile widely, happy that he’s willing to wait for you. “of course. see you later, scaramouche!” without letting him reply, you immediately ran off to find la signora.

as the doors closes behind you, scaramouche narrow his eyes, thinking about… a feeling that’s been bothering him for a while.

just what is it that’s bothering him so much?

“what am i even thinking? i’m pretty sure it’s nothing.” he muttered to himself.

.

an hour had long passed since you left— but to scaramouche? it felt more than just an hour. his subordinates watched as their lord harbinger walks around the room, his face says it all: irritation, impatience, and most of all, worried. he won’t admit it though. after all, it’s not like you’ll die right? it’s just a simple meeting with the raiden shogun.

“this is bad…” scaramouche halts his movements from the sudden comment of one of his subordinates, who was busy talking to a cicin mage. “everything’s getting worse back in the city and there’s no sign of one of the harbingers.” the fatui agent added as the cicin mage nods in agreement.

he then furrowed his eyebrows, slowly turning to where the two fatui members are. what do they mean there’s no sign of one of the harbingers?

it didn’t help how it had also started to rain harder than before, the loud sounds of the crashing thunders made scaramouche feel even more anxious and irritated of your absence.

“it’s probably just la signora being missing. i’m sure y/n is on their way back.” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head off before walking back to one of the rooms in the hideout, hoping to make his thoughts of you go away.

to this hour, the feeling still didn’t go away.

.

la signora came back instead of you.

“…why are you back?” scaramouche says in a dark tone, eyes narrowing at the sight of the 8th harbinger walking inside the room with a smirk on her face. “whatever do you mean, balladeer?” she asked.

“where’s y/n?”

la signora stays silent, although her smirk didn’t fade away, scaramouche could see how it slightly twitched downward.

she lets out a fake sad sigh, looking away from the man’s angered gaze. from that look alone, scaramouche knew something had happened to you, yet that didn’t stop a part of him from hoping that you’re actually alright.

until la signora starts talking again.

“it’s disappointing how the raiden shogun was merciful for giving them a quick death. i would’ve enjoyed it if that archon had done a slow agonizing death.”

his heart drops, eyes going wide from la signora’s comment.

the woman didn’t fail to notice, pleased to see the man’s facade beginning to fade away. “i must say… they’re very bold for challenging the raiden shogun a duel in exchange for her gnosis. it’s such a shame that they’ve fallen.”

scaramouche’s hands turned into fists, trying not to listen to the fair lady’s words. “leave.”

without another comment, la signora heads out from the room, leaving the other harbinger alone with his dark thoughts.

why did you die?

“i’ll be back soon, alright?” he should’ve went out with you instead. why did you leave him alone in this ridiculous hideout while you’re out there dying?

he would’ve stopped you from going to death’s doorstep had he followed his stupid gut feeling.

if anyone were to enter the room he’s in, they would’ve felt suffocated from the purple energy seeping through the furious harbinger. despite so, the man could care less if anyone got injured because of what he’s going through.

scaramouche then removes his hat, staring down at a certain picture of you and him together when you first took him out to inazuma’s fireworks show.

“my wish is to love you and not leave you forever.” you whispered to him, watching as the fireworks have been set off to the skies for you to see. “what about you?”

he simply rolled his eyes in response, staring at the fireworks as well with an unexplainable look on his face. “i’m not interested in those kinds of things.”

you then pouted, disappointed with your lover’s answer. “aw no fair! you have to at least have one wish at some point in your life!”

“i promise you scaramouche,” you suddenly declared, standing up from the ground with competitive eyes. “i won’t leave you forever until you tell me your wish!”

“my wish was for you to be with me forever.” scaramouche mumbled, closing his eyes as he looks up at the ceiling. “i told you wishes never worked, look at where we are now.”

you promised that you wouldn’t leave him forever. he didn’t think that you meant your kind of forever.

“i’d like to see you try loser!” he exclaims, his competitiveness showing off to you as the fireworks are now ignored.

scaramouche suddenly opens his eyes, glaring daggers at his door as a new motive began— a motive that will perhaps please the tsaritsa if it ended successfully.

he looks up at where la signora left, his expression had a hint of murderous intentions as he puts his hat on top of his head and walks out from the room.

“guards, has the raiden shogun left her residence?”

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Dirty Ori! 😏 nori and dori be shooketh! I'm the anon that requested legolas anyways. So is "finding the one" avail for legolas? Maybe a prequel to the reader meeting Thranduil? - 🌙

Hello anon...

yes, the dirty Ori story has been posted (as promised)

So, here goes your Legolas story (that is more pre-One than actually 'one'...I realise that I will have to write the missing pieces sooner or later to make sense of everything haha)

Confessions

Words: 1,8 k

Characters: Legolas x Reader

You barely remembered how you had ended up in this god-forsaken place, everything was a blur in your mind.

One second, you had been at home, getting ready for an awful work dinner, pleading with whatever Gods your ancestors had left to you like dusty and – ultimately – utterly useless knickknacks to help you find a destiny that would not involve sucking up to people you had to listen to but couldn’t respect.

The next memory in your mind was the otherworldly face of a person you had never seen before, actually, you were certain that you had never even seen anyone remotely like him; he was tall and impossibly slender as if he had been wrought of thin air and blessed dreams.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” this stranger asked in a voice that was ominously reminiscent of the sound of rustling leaves on a starry summer night.

“I do not know. Who are you?” You replied, confused and a little afraid – for the stranger was heavily armed and his face bore the expression of the focused single-mindedness of a skilled hunter – but his hand stretching out to pluck an errant twig out of your hair had a calming effect on your fluttering nerves that you had never experienced beforehand.

“I’m Legolas, son of Thranduil and – whoever you may be – you are in danger,” he said in a tone so light that it took a second for you to realise just how threatening his words had been.

“Sorry, what?”

“My dear friend, the darkness might be vanquished – or at least, that’s what we want to believe once more – but these are still not the lands a woman is supposed to roam on her own, an unarmed woman at that,” he explained, looking slightly uncomfortable when you cocked one eyebrow at the word ‘woman’.

In the end, Legolas took you with him, deciding that it was safest for you – as you had visibly no idea where you were and how you had come to be there in the first place – to stay with him.

“I am on my way home to see my father,” he explained but didn’t say anything more about the reasons why or about that person in question.

In your mind, you harboured ideas about that father of his; you wondered if they had fallen out or if his father had committed some terrible crime. What other reason would a man have not to want to talk about his father? Or to look this sour whenever he talked about him?

Despite this sore subject, Legolas turned out to be a marvellous travelling companion; he was – as you had instinctively surmised - a skilled but compassionate hunter and it was entirely thanks to him that you didn’t die of hunger, accidental poisoning, or exposure within your first days of trying to survive in a world that was just similar enough to your own that it seduced you into being recklessly thoughtless.

At night, he would keep watch while you slept and – after a few days – you offered to share the watch.

“You don’t know what to look out for and I am the better fighter,” he had smiled warmly without a hint of dismissal or mockery, “I truly don’t need a whole lot of sleep. Do not trouble yourself on my behalf.”

“I’d like to be of use though,” you had protested; it vexed you to know that not only were you entirely dependent on him, but you were also an unnecessary and dangerous burden that was slowing him down and making him vulnerable.

“You worry too much,” Legolas had laughed and begged you to just go back to sleep; sometimes you wondered if he kept you like a wondrous pet that he had found – alone and helpless – in the wilderness, but all his interactions with you were deeply respectful and kind.

What you didn’t know at that time was that – just before finding you – Legolas had wished upon his beloved stars that they may show him the way to a brighter future.

After the war, the losses, and the terrible devastation left in its wake, he had struggled to find the motivation to go see his father. He loved and respected Thranduil and he was afraid not to have anything to show this king of kings other than hands dipped in blood and a few new cracks in his ever-lasting heart.

“Give me a sign; let me see that wonder and hope are not dead,” he had pleaded to the night sky, “give me something I might show to my father and my people that truly makes them believe that miracles are possible.”

The very next thing that had happened was finding you at the end of his aimless steps and – to Legolas – that was sign enough.

It didn’t hurt either that your beauty, as otherworldly and bewitching to him as his was to you, had struck him like an arrow straight to the heart.

Sweet, caring, and exceptionally brave, you had proven to be a good companion and a worthy friend since.

While you slept on the hard ground, just outside of Thranduil’s lands, Legolas watched you as much as he surveyed the darkness dancing with shadows galore.

By that time, there was not a single shred of doubt left in his mind; he had been meant to find you and you would bring relief and new prosperity to his realm. You had been destined to be his, which – unfortunately – did not mean that he would not have to win you over; Legolas was aware that he was tragically unprepared for that battle to which he felt that he was showing up unarmed in the face of an unfathomable and dreadful opponent.

These were traditions that were usual and almost expected in the world he had grown up in but – he knew much too well – that you were a natural cynic, often laughing good-humouredly when he explained his views and beliefs to you.

Of course, you never ridiculed or belittled him, but he understood that – in the world you called your own – these kinds of thoughts were considered naïve. He was not even sure that you believed in fate or true love.

Little did he know how taken you had been – from the very first moment – with not only his appearance and voice, but also with the boundless kindness and honour he had displayed while protecting and defending a woman – of another race – entirely unknown to him.

For all he knew, you could be the very embodiment of evil and destruction and yet, until he would witness proof of that being so, he seemed decided to treat you with gentle regard. He was the incarnation of a level of ‘goodness’ you had almost stopped believing in; your world had made it sound like a fairy tale only the dim-witted would have any faith in.

Hence, on that night, Legolas decided that he would not yet tell you how he felt about you, afraid of chasing you away and losing the miracle he had been praying for so fervently.

“Legolas?” you awoke in the darkness, watching his unmoving silhouette outlined against the pale blue sky of the nascent sunrise.

“Friend,” he turned his head to look at you, “you should be asleep.”

“I…I am not. Tell me, why do you not speak of your father. Do you not love him well?” You knew that it was an indecent, nosy, and disrespectful question but – in the middle of the night and cloaked in darkness – you felt braver than you usually were.

“Thranduil?” he chuckled – honest glee in his voice – as he turned around fully to face you, “No, dear, I love Thranduil very well, but I was afraid to scare you off with tales about my father who sits on a throne of wood and wears a living crown of boughs and berries.”

Seeing your eyes widen, he nodded slowly.

“You were a sign given to me,” he went on quietly, “and I would introduce you to the secrets – strange and manifold as they are – of my homeland and my family progressively.”

Your curiosity was stoked and so you crawled closer to him, finding solace in his calm but steady warmth.

“Tell me about him now,” you asked politely, allowing yourself to lean against him and smiling when he wrapped his arm around your shivering shoulders, pulling tight the cloak he had given you to shield you from the night chill.

As he talked about his father, your eyes drifted shut slowly and you slipped into pleasant dreams about Elves, trees, and critters venerating their ruler in the way you had seen in animated movies on TV.

As you walked across the realm under his father’s rule, Legolas would look at you more often than before – his eyes full of quiet worry and burgeoning hope – and you wondered what that was about.

One night, after a sparse dinner, you waited for the drowsiness of sleep to wash over you when he took your hand and just held it for a few seconds.

You were startled – as friendly as he was, he had never tried to touch you beyond keeping you from tumbling off narrow ledges or steering you carefully, so you didn’t get lost – but you didn’t object to his soft touch.

“Come to see my father with me,” he pleaded in a low, humming voice that seemed to be echoed by the woods around him as if the trees were eavesdropping on this quiet moment.

“Sure, why not?” you replied, you didn’t have anywhere else to be or to go, and you had grown fond of Legolas. The mere thought of having to part ways with him awoke a small prickling sense of pain in your soul.

Ever since that night when you had caught him looking wistfully out into the night, you suspected that something was weighing on his tender heart; as you knew that it was not his father, you had to wonder if it was you that troubled him.

“Did I do something to upset you, Legolas? You seem quiet and distant lately,” you brought it up, terrified that he’d confirm your darkest and most abject fears.

“You? No, my friend, you have done nothing wrong. I…my father is the king of this realm,” he replied, kneading your cold, stiff fingers aptly, “and I wonder how I will introduce you to him.”

“I am unworthy of him, is that what you are saying?” you asked tonelessly, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“No, that is not at all what I mean. I wish…I wish I could introduce you as what I know you to be,” he replied, leaning closer, “but I am much afraid that you would not take me seriously.”

“What am I then?” Your eyes snapped up and were immediately ensnared in the pulsating intensity of his gaze.

“You are my miracle,” he replied, “my ‘One’.”

“One?” you cocked your head to the side inquisitively, mindful not to seem dismissive as that was his fear apparently.

“The one I was meant to find, the one I was meant to…love,” he murmured softly, never averting his eyes even when yours widened in joyous surprise.

As always, I hope you enjoyed this and my askbox is always open!

Lots of love and kisses to you! Happy Vday!

[cheesyficwriter]

I love your writing so much!! 💖 Could you please do "Don't you ever do that again!" for romione (ofc)? I would love if it was placed at hogwarts (like year 5-6) but you don’t need to :)

Hi there, anon! Happy Saturday! Hope you enjoy this bit of fluff with some slight angst ���

Unless We Go Together

Ever since Ron was a young tot, he always wanted to learn how to fly. He watched his older brothers soar through the clouds, and marveled at how they managed to maintain control of their brooms despite the intimidating nature of the high speeds at which they could travel.

He always thought it was so wicked how brooms responded to simple commands, the way they were enchanted to fly, and took on a personality of their own.

Ron’s eldest brother, Bill, advised him that remaining focused when flying was of the utmost importance.

The key to using a broom is balance; if you shift your weight too far forward, you’ll likely nosedive straight to the ground. Keeping a broom steady requires both speed and agility.

Ron is lost in his thoughts as he meanders down the staircase in the Gryffindor common room on a Saturday afternoon, debating on taking his new broom out for a fly when a declaration stops him in his tracks.

"Did you hear? Hermione Granger is flying on the Quidditch pitch!"

Ron turns slowly to face Seamus. "I'm sorry. I must be going mental. Did you just say Hermione?"

"Yeah! On a Cleansweep Eleven!” Seamus replies with enthusiasm, pointing out the window where Ron just barely sees a flash of brown curly hair go by on a broom. “Say, Ron. You just got a Cleansweep, didn't ya?"

Oh bloody fucking hell.

"Excuse me," Ron says through gritted teeth as he stomps out of the portrait hole with only one destination in mind.

The first person he finds on the grassy pitch is none other than his best friend with jet black hair. "Potter!"

Harry swivels around, and winces at the flash of anger on Ron's face as he approaches. "I'm sorry, mate. She seemed pretty adamant, and, honestly, I was curious-"

"So you helped her nick my fucking broom? Why not let her use yours?"

Harry shrugs. "She specifically requested yours. Besides, I-"

Ron waves a dismissive hand. "Nevermind that. She has no business being up that high by herself. She doesn't even like flying."

Harry shoots Ron a sympathetic look. "I think what Malfoy said to her in class yesterday really struck a nerve."

Ron feels as if the weight of a bludger lands in the pit of his stomach. Fucking Malfoy. It boils his blood everytime Draco opens his mouth and vile words come out.

Yesterday, he decided to antagonize Hermione because she answered a question in class. “Think you’re perfect, Granger? Just because you can answer a question? I bet there is something you’re terrible at.”

“O’course it did,” Ron mumbles. Hermione excels at most things, but one thing she is not perfect at, nor typically cares for? Flying.

Ron squints his eyes up towards the blaring sun, anxiety pooling in his belly as he searches for Hermione. By now, her escapade has gathered the attention of several professors arriving on the pitch.

Ron blows out a frustrated breath, forcefully raking his fingers through his hair. “Hermione!” He calls up to her, and he vaguely spots her head snap down towards the direction of his voice.

He should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve talked her down before she did something…

Just then, a scream was heard off into the clouds. Ron internally chides himself for even averting her attention, if only a moment. Even the slightest distraction and she could-

Fuck. She’s sliding off the broom!

“NO!”

"Arresto Momentum!"

Ron watches in horror as Hermione's body — although it slows in response to the spell — crashes into the solid ground, his own broom landing next to her.

"HERMIONE!"

He propels his body forward to get to her, running faster than he knew his feet were capable, with Harry hot on his trail.

She has to be okay.

--

Hermione

She opens her eyes to a blinding white light. Her head is pounding, and her body feels numb all over. Hermione's vision is blurry as she attempts to orient herself to her surroundings.

Where am I? What happened to me?

The last thing she remembers is...oh no. Flying on a broom — a broom!

The vibrant red hair that enters her vision, the silhouette of a body hovering over her, reminds her of exactly whose broom she was flying on.

Hermione lets out a regretful groan, fully unprepared for the slew of questions she knows she is about to face.

"Hermione? Can you hear us?"

Ron's voice sounds distant, but as she awakens, her vision clears and she finds her two best friends perched on either side of her bed in the hospital wing.

"Blimey, you're awake!" Harry exclaims with a wide smile. He gives her a gentle pat on her arm. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit like I've been run over by a hippogriff." Hermione lets out a nervous laugh, and is grateful that Harry joins in.

However, Ron is not laughing. He's not even smiling.

Harry's eyes shift back and forth between his two best friends, seemingly catching on to the mutual tension. "I'm just going to get you some water and let Madame Pomfrey know you're awake." With that, Harry sets off, leaving the two alone in an awkward bout of silence.

Ron is looking down at his hands, and Hermione can see the muscles in his jaw twitch.

Her stomach does a backflip. She knows it was wrong to take his broom without asking permission, but she had hoped that she would’ve gone for a short fly and be back on the ground before he even realized she was gone.

She opens her mouth to fill the silence, but Ron is faster. His voice is low, eyes growing dark. "Don't you ever do that again."

Hermione lowers her head, ashamed to even look at him. He's so angry with me, with good reason. "I'm sorry I stole your broom."

Ron lets out a loud exhale, leaning forward to perch his elbows on his knees. "I don't care about the bloody broom, Hermione. I care about-"

When Ron hesitates, Hermione's head lifts back up, finding an obvious blush on his cheeks. Was he going to say you?

He clears his throat, switching topics. "Harry told me he thought this was about what Malfoy said to you in class."

Her voice is barely audible as she responds. "It's possible."

"To hell with him!" Ron's immediate retort is blazoned with a fierceness that makes Hermione jump. "You're the most brilliant person I know. It's okay not to be the best at everything, especially if it's something I know you don't particularly enjoy doing in the first place."

Hermione clucks her tongue prepared to provide a rebuttal, although caves and can't resist giggling. "You're right. I really hate flying."

A small smile tugs up the corner of Ron's mouth, making Hermione's heart pound in her chest. "Then it's settled? No more spontaneous rides up through the clouds? Unless we go together, of course."

Her mouth goes dry. "You-you'd want to do that?"

It's only then that Hermione realizes how close their hands are on her bed, pinky fingers almost touching. When she glances back up, Ron's grin is wide.

"Of course."

[spxllcxstxr]

Creature Teachers • R.L

(GIF not mine)

Request: Hii, this probably sounds really weird but can I request like a (professor, if you’re okay with that) Remus Lupin x vampire reader? Where she really needs some blood so he lets her bite his neck to help her and it can be like cute and romantic or smutty, idk whatever you’re comfortable with. Yikes sorry I sound so weird 💗 — anon

Summary: You’re a vampire out of blood replenishing potions. Your husband offers you his.

Warnings: heavy blood mention, a spider makes a quick appearance, biting, drinking blood, normal vampire stuff, insecurities, all vampire things are a wee bit suggestive if you think about it

Word Count: 1.4k

A.N: I didn’t intend for this to become fic length. Obviously, I got carried away with the idea. This isn’t smutty and it isn’t really romantic? But it’s not angsty. I have no clue exactly what to categorize this as. Hope you enjoy it, because I loved writing it.

****

When your eyes snap open in the middle of the night, you’re greeted by the pitch blackness of the room, and yet you’re still able to spot the spider weaving its web tantalizingly slow in the far corner.

You watch it dangle, seemingly in midair, but it’s thin and translucent web shines just enough for your eyes to catch it.

If you were alive, your heart would be racing and you’d probably be hyperventilating.

The rush of Remus’ blood flowing through his veins is ever present in your ears. His heart pounds evenly in his sleep, and you’re completely and painfully aware of his dorsalis pedis artery pulsating against your own foot.

Your limbs are screaming in pain, skin feeling paper thin.

Hunger.

Hunger is the one thing on your mind, and you groan. If you weren’t so weak, you would pounce on your husband and drain his entire body dry of blood. You’re thankful you’re so weak.

“Remus...” You rasp out, unmoving. “Please...”

You need him to wake up, to help you, so you continue to gasp out.

“(Y/n)?” He eventually mumbles tiredly.

The blanket shifts next to you and his foot ceases contact with your skin. You yearn for it once again, attempting to reach out and follow it, but your body won’t allow it.

“So hungry, Remus...” You whimper, fingers twitching, trying to reach out to him.

“I’ll grab your potions, m’love.” He mumbles, groaning as he gets up from the bed. Your ears pick up the creaking of his joints and the sporadic beating of his heart as he wakes up.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself down.

His bare feet pad across the floorboards and glass vials clink together.

“They’re all empty!” Remus exclaims, going through drawers and looking between stacks of books.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You whine out, roughly swallowing. Your flesh erupts in a fiery pain.

“I can run down to Snape—“

You hiss at the notion, hating his very suggestion. You didn’t need Snape meddling any more in your business than he already is. He was adamant about how the two of you were monsters, set loose around children. Snape delivered potions to you and your husband and yet he still couldn’t trust either of you. You didn’t want him involved to prove him right.

Remus sits on the bed, close to you.

“Bite me.”

His heart noticeably skips a beat due to anxiety.

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him, the whites of his eyes the brightest part of him even in the dead of night.

“What?” You choke, eyes widening at the thought of real human, or at least part human, blood being offered to you willingly.

It’s been so long.

It’s been too long.

“Just enough to get you through the night. Snape will drop off more blood replenishing potions in the morning.” He clarifies quickly.

His heart pounds rapidly which is understandable considering you haven’t had the need to feed from him since you were in school.

“Are you sure?” You ask, trying to restrain your eagerness. Desperately, you lick your chapped lips at the very thought.

Remus hooks his arms under your armpits, dragging you up to sit against the wooden headboard.

Feebly, you head rolls against the hardwood that’s digging into your scalp. A terrible change from your soft and delicate pillow.

“You’re in pain, (Y/n), of course I’m sure. Just not too much.” Remus reassures, pulling off his black shirt, leaving his chest bare and exposed.

Usually, you would use this time to ogle your husband, but instead your eyes latch onto his neck. It’s like every fiber of your being is calling out to his blood supply.

Your vision practically tunnels around his palpitating carotid artery, watching as it jumps in fright. Your gums ache as a fog takes over your mind.

However, you try to fight your instincts off. Using the carotid artery would surely kill him, and rationally, you don’t want to kill your husband. You’re particularly fond of him. It also might be hard to explain how the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor got drained by a vampire in the middle of the night.

You have to have control.

Your lips tremble as Remus drags his body closer to your own. If he’s talking, you can’t hear him. You’re too focused on making sure you don’t bleed him dry. It takes everything you have in you to keep your mind on track.

Abdomens are pressed together, your legs hooked around the small of his back, practically sitting in his lap.

You dip your head in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, burying your lips and your nose against his skin. Deeply inhaling, you can smell the coppery substance through his skin and you haven’t even punctured him yet. Your eyes almost roll back in your skull at the mere thought of real blood. Blood replenishing potions were fine, but they weren’t satisfying.

“You’re sure about this?” You practically have to force out through your lips.

A hand rests on the back of your head, fingers petting through your hair.

“I’m ok, love. Whenever you’re ready.” He shakily replies, swallowing roughly.

Your lips drop lower, away from the arteries and instead hover over the mess of veins nearby.

Before even biting down, you delicately place sloppy kisses on the area you’re about to ruin. You hear him try to calm his heartbeat with a deep inhale.

You draw back, teeth shifting to make room for your fangs, and you finally sink them past layers of skin. He yelps, grabbing onto your hair. He doesn’t try to pull you away from him, but it seems you’re his anchor.

A rush of blood fills your mouth, the coppery taste and scent overwhelming every one of your senses. There’s a sweetness hidden behind all that metal, and you quickly discover it dancing on your tongue. You greedily moan in desire.

You take great big gulps, your body strengthening after each one. You trail your fingers up to his hair, pulling at it to expose more of his neck to you.

Vaguely you’re aware that you’re getting too lost in the thick fog clouding your mind.

“Alright love, that’s enough.” Remus groans next to you.

You let out a low and pathetic whine, tightening your grasp on his hair, lapping at the wound you’ve given him. The flow hasn’t let up.

You hear his heart start to pick up speed at your defiance, like he’s panicking.

“(Y/n).” There’s a faint waver in his firm tone. “Enough!”

That’s enough for you snap out of whatever bloodthirsty trance you were stuck it.

You detach your fangs from his flesh, pulling back swiftly. Blood coats your lips and you dart your tongue out to capture the rest.

Quickly, you scramble away from him, untangling your limbs in favor of cowering on the mattress.

Blood pools where you bit him but you’re in the right headspace to be able to rip your gaze away from it. Your eyes focus on Remus, how pale he’s become, even though you didn’t take too much from him.

“Merlin, Remus.” You pick up his dark shirt and press it to his wound.

Somehow his eyes manage to find yours in the dark.

There’s a glimmer of pain lingering in his irises, and guilt pools in your stomach. A frown tugs at your lips.

You’re a monster, aren’t you?

Couldn’t even control yourself enough, so you had to force your own husband to keep you alive.

You could barely restrain yourself while feeding off of him—you almost killed him. You would’ve, if he didn’t speak up.

“I know what you’re thinking...” Remus murmurs, lazily placing a hand on yours, pressing the shirt firmer against his body.

You purse your lips. Of course he knows, he goes through the same thought process every full moon.

“I’m fine, love. We’ll just both have to take a potion in the morning.” He reassures, scooching back to lay his head in his pillow. “But right now, I’m tired.”

Delicately, he gets under the blankets, shivering slightly.

While you don’t need to sleep at night, to be honest you’re not even tired, but the way he stretches his arm across your cold torso has you cuddling up to his side.

You stay up listening to his heartbeat even out and his breathy snores, knowing that you’re both alright.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

Remus Lupin Taglist: @lunalovecroft

[bex-la-get]

A Very Important Question (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Special Appearance: Sienna Trinh

Word count: 2012

Summary: Ethan has a very important question for Nat.

Author’s Note: This is dedicated to the anon who asked if I had written Ethan and Nat’s proposal story. Surprisingly, I had not so, of course, I had to rectify that immediately. Hope you enjoy it! 😘 Also this is unedited so sorry in advance for mistakes.

Ethan was acting weird.

He was constantly stepping away from work to attend meetings off-site, closed his laptop anytime someone walked by, and seemed to be in a constant state of anxiety. Whenever Natalie tried to talk to him about it, he always brushed it off, reassuring her he was fine. 

“I’m just under a lot of stress, Nat, that’s all. Being Chief is more involved than I realized,” he would say.

Natalie wasn’t convinced.

“I don’t know, Si. I’m worried about him,” Nat said one night when getting drinks with Sienna. “You don’t think he’s having money trouble and he’s trying to hide it from me, do you?”

Sienna furrowed her brows. “You mean like gambling debts? That doesn’t seem like Ethan.”

Natalie shrugged. “I know it doesn’t. I’m just grasping at straws here. Trying to make sense of it all.”

Sienna squeezed Natalie’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t look too much into it, Nat. He’s probably just stressed; lord knows Bloom doesn’t make things easy and the Chief’s job is pretty demanding.”

Nat sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Si.”

“Anytime.”

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

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

When Nat returned home that night, she found Ethan sitting on the sofa, watching an old black-and-white movie. His eyes lit up when he spotted her and he jumped off the couch to greet her. “Hey you.”

“Hi,” she smiled.

Ethan pulled her close and kissed her softly, smiling as Natalie immediately relaxed in his arms. “I missed you,” he said, pulling away.

“I just saw you a few hours ago,” she replied.

“I know and then I went several hours without seeing you and I missed you terribly during that time.”

She laughed and caressed his cheek with her hand. “Well, I missed you too.” Her brows furrowed and she stepped closer to him. “Are you okay? You’ve been so stressed this past week; I’m worried about you.”

His eyes softened and he nodded. “I know; I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. This-- this whole thing with being Chief and trying to navigate my new responsibilities while still having to answer to Bloom has been overwhelming. And I kind of bottled it up; I know I have no reason to, it’s just-- just an old habit, I guess.”

Natalie smiled understandingly. “I know, I’m quite familiar with those old habits of yours.” He chuckled and she nuzzled his nose with hers. “You don’t have to bottle it up anymore, my love. I’m here for you, always. And I want to support you through everything, be it good or bad. I’ve got you.”

He held her close and rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you; I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Just talk to me, okay? Even if it’s minor, I always want you to feel like you can come to me.”

“I will, I promise.” His forehead still resting against hers, he closed his eyes and held her close for a long moment, just enjoying having her in his arms. He was fully aware of how lucky he was to have her and while it killed him to lie to her, he hoped she’d forgive him when she realized the reason why. 

Nuzzling her nose with his, he moved to kiss her forehead then looked at her. “Are you hungry? There’s some leftovers in the fridge I can heat up.”

She smiled and nodded. “That sounds great. Let me change though, these jeans have overstayed their welcome.”

He chuckled and watched as she made her way to the bedroom. “Hey,” he called. She turned and looked at him expectantly and he smiled. “I love you.”

She grinned. “I love you more.”

“Never.”

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

Ethan looked around the apartment, triple checking his packing list in case he missed something. They were only going to be gone for the weekend but he needed to make sure that nothing was missing or left behind. This had to go perfectly; and with a lot of luck, it would. But that assumed he remembered everything-- did he pack enough underwear? What about the wine, is the wine in the cooler? Ring. The ring’s in his suitcase. Should he double check again?

The lock in the front door turned and Ethan had a brief moment of panic before shaking it off. He’d been preparing for this for over a week, everything was set. He just needed to remember to breathe.

Nat smiled at Ethan as she walked in. “Hey you.”

Ethan visibly relaxed and returned her smile. “Hi. How was lunch with Sienna?”

“Good! We got our nails done too. Lookie!” She extended her hand out to him and he admired the bright red she had chosen. He tried not to lose himself in the visual of a diamond ring on the very hand he was looking at, instead focusing on the color. Don’t give it away!

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Very pretty. Good color choice.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. Then, noticing the duffle bag that sat on the couch behind him, she furrowed her brows. “Are you going somewhere?”

“We are,” he corrected. “We’re taking the weekend off and going to Martha’s Vineyard, just the two of us. And Jenner.”

She smiled. “Really? Wait, I’m supposed to work tomorrow!”

Ethan shook his head. “Not anymore. I cleared your schedule and got your shifts covered. You’re free until Tuesday. Perks of dating the Chief.” He winked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, Ethan; that’s so sweet of you. But… what’s the occasion? I’m not forgetting an anniversary, am I?”

He chuckled. “No; I just thought we could both do with a weekend off. I hope it’s okay that I decided that?” The thought suddenly crossed his mind that she might object to having a trip suddenly sprung on her without warning.

She smiled and quelled his nerves with a gentle kiss. “It’s more than okay. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

“Anything for you, my love.” He pointed to the duffle bag. “Everything’s already packed, we just need to get it all into the car. Will you leash Jenner?”

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

Their first night in Martha’s Vineyard had been relaxing and romantic. After arriving at the AirBnB Ethan had rented, the two had gone out to dinner and enjoyed a quiet date overlooking the beach. Nat had looked beautiful in her sundress and windblown hair, her smile lighting up the entire patio. If Ethan hadn’t left the ring at the house, he might’ve proposed just then. But he had put too much planning into this proposal, damn it, he wasn’t about to ruin it all with an impulse, no matter how tempted he was.

After a lazy Saturday morning stumbling around the house, Ethan, Natalie, and Jenner made their way to the beach, picnic basket and blanket in hand. “This was such a good idea, babe!” Nat said as she popped a cheese cube into her mouth. “We haven’t been on a picnic in forever!”

Ethan smiled. “That’s why I thought we could have one while we were here. The beach seems like as good a place as any for a picnic.”

Natalie smiled. “This reminds me of our first date.”

“Does it now?”

“Mhm,” she said, sipping her wine. “The two of us and Jenner, enjoying a beautiful day outside. We had a picnic then too.”

“I remember,” Ethan said, smiling fondly. “I was nervous for that date. I wanted to make a good impression on you.”

“Really? You had already made a good impression on me.”

“Not as a boyfriend, I hadn’t. I wanted everything to go perfectly; it mattered to me that you knew how much I care about you. How much I love you. I may or may not have agonized over how much cheese was too much for that picnic.”

Nat smiled and squeezed his hand. “I knew then as I know now how much you love me. It’s as much as I love you, which is a lot. And you made a wonderful impression on me, Ethan. You always do. Also, there is no such thing as too much cheese.”

He laughed. “I know that now.” He leaned towards her and kissed her softly, caressing her cheek with his free hand. “I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away.

“I love you too,” she replied. She looked back at their picnic basket and smiled. “Any chance you packed some sweet stuff in there?”

“Mhm,” Ethan nodded. “There’s some chocolate covered strawberries at the bottom of the basket.

Nat’s eyes lit up. “You spoil me!” 

Ethan watched with bated breath as Nat dug her way to the bottom of the basket, fully aware of what she’d find on top of aforementioned strawberries. His heart pounded as he watched her hands slow in their search and listened to the quiet gasp that escaped her lips. With one final reach, she pulled out a small velvet box, her eyes wide. “Ethan… I-- what?”

He moved closer to her and clasped his hands over hers, holding the box in place. “I love you,” he told her. Deftly, he maneuvered the small box out of her grasp and held it in front of her. “I love you so much and I want to live the rest of my life with you by my side. Natalie, you are kind and intelligent and passionate and beautiful both inside and out. You have such fire in your eyes, it could set the whole world ablaze and I would but happily burn in the flames. 

“You have made my life so much better, from the first day you stepped into it. You light up my darkest days, your embrace is my home; I am a better man because of you and I know true happiness with you. Wherever you go Nat, I will follow. I love you and I can’t wait to grow old with you. Will you marry me?”

Nat was crying, a beautiful watery smile on her face. She sniffled and hastily wiped the tears that were falling away as she struggled to find her voice. “Ethan, I--” she choked back a sob and smiled even bigger. “I love you so much. Yes. Yes, I will marry you!”

Choking back a sob of his own, Ethan pulled Natalie into a tight embrace, her arms flinging around his shoulders and they held each other tightly, crying tears of overwhelming happiness and whispered “I love you’s.”

Eventually, they pulled apart and wiped each other’s tears away before Ethan pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto Natalie’s finger. Sienna’s tips about Nat’s ring size had been correct and it fit like a glove, much to his relief. The ring looked better on her hand than he could have ever imagined. And now it would live on her hand for the rest of their lives, a symbol of their undying love for each other.

Natalie smiled at the ring and sniffled. “So is this why Sienna insisted we get our nails done yesterday?” she asked.

Ethan laughed. “I suppose so. She had mentioned it to me but I didn’t think much of it. It does make a lot of sense, though.”

She giggled and nodded. Then she looked at him thoughtfully. “You weren’t stressed about work at all, were you? You were stressed about this.”

He nodded and ran his thumb over the ring. “Yes. I’m sorry I worried you; and I’m sorry for lying to you about it. I wanted to keep it a surprise as best I could. I didn’t know how else to go about it.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m just glad to know this was what you were stressed about and nothing more pressing; like gambling debts or something like that.”

“I only gamble when it comes to Declan Nash, you know that,” he smirked.

“Of course,” she laughed. “How silly of me.”

He leaned in close and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Nat.”

“I love you more.”

He smiled and kissed her soundly on the lips, very nearly forgetting what they were talking about. “Never.”

A/N: Hope you guys liked it! 💙

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added/removed):  @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter​ @imaneditorthankyouverymuch-deac @chaoticchopshopheart​ @ohchoices​ @maurine07​ @oldminniemcg​ @parisa-kh​ @shanzay44​ @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer​ @adiehardfan​ @custaroonie​ @mia143​ @a-crepusculo​ @takemyopenheart​ @toadfrog26​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @barbean​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @natureblooms24 @choicesaddict5 @jerzwriter​

[mashiraostail]

could you maybe do a part 2 of the depressive episode ask with fatgum, hawks, n gang orca pease?

ofc anon! I think these get progressivley longer also fldsfdsjl idk why that is, sorry!

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum You were both busy people, Taishiro was even busier than your average pro now that he’d taken on those two students, he didn’t mind the extra work though. Plus he was used to having you around on top of it all. He understood you worked as well, and he’d even tried going there to surprise you since it had been a few days since the pair of you spent any time together which was entirely unlike you only for your coworkers to say that you’d called out a fair bit of time. Maybe you’d headed home, a family birthday or special occasion beaconed you, but whenever you left you always asked him to watch your place, he’d hardly heard from you beyond a text for the past week or so now. So he decided to head over to yours after calling it early one day, he sent Kirishima and Amajiki packing and told them he had a small emergency to deal with, which wasn’t exactly a lie. He was growing a bit concerned for you your lack of communication with him wasn’t just rare it was totally unheard of, normally you were joined to him at the hip, you adored him and you always made sure he heard it all the time. He didn’t want to be overbearing or show up uninvited but he hated the idea of you being sick or worse with no help around, he understood how badly you wanted to be perfect for him, you didn’t want to add to his workload or be a bother at all, he was just trying to figure out the best way to make you see that you could never do any of that to him, and you’re perfect for him however you want to be. He knocks on the door a few times to no avail before electing to use his key, you’d given it to him a while ago but he still knocked most of the time, he didn’t like barging in on you, despite how he loved to have you do it to him, nothing was better than an unannounced surprise visit from you in his eyes.  “Anyone home?” He shuts the door quietly behind him and looks around. The mess says you should be in, that’s for sure. He’s holding a bag of snacks in his hands, plus some medicines and general stuff in case you were sick with a cold or the flu, and he already had his whole chastising speech set up in his head for you.  But he had to find you first. There wouldn’t have been any place for you in the living room, the couch was littered with groceries that had yet to be put away, the coffee table covered in glasses and the kitchen wasn’t much better, it was full of everything and anything but actual food. The door to the laundry room was just barely holding a tidal wave of unfolded clothes back. The bedroom door was slightly ajar.  “Hey, you-”  He nudges the door open with his shoulder, “‘re you decent? Can I open my eyes ‘fore I bump into something-”  “Taishiro?” He hears the rumpling of blankets, and your voice is wet and tired and warbly and even though you didn’t give him the go-ahead he couldn't help but rush over to you at the sound of it. “Hey, what’s the matter? He drops the bag on the bed to your other side and instinctively cups your face in his hands.  “What are you doing here I-”   “I was just in the area and... it’s been a while since I spent any time with you, sorry barge in like this, you didn’t answer the door, I just wanted to check on you..and it seems like it was a good thing I did..” You’re looking up at him like a deer in headlights, it’s only then that he realizes his potential indiscretion. He moves to pull away from you, to wait for a green light to touch you and be close to you, he didn’t want to overwhelm you, or make you feel guilty or anything like that. You can sense that he’s about to pull back, and a few minutes ago all you wanted was to be alone but now that he was here, the last thing you wanted was for him to not be near you. You take a hold of his wrist.  He let out a long, thankful sigh, “alright then, I’ll stay right here.” He sits on the edge of your bed, “I’m glad you’re here.” He nudges your hair back with his other hand, “’re you sick?”  You shake your head in his hands, “No I just-” Your voice waivers, “I feel so terrible-”  “Terrible like how?” He looks guilty of something and it just makes you feel worse, “did something happen? Someone giving you a hard time or-”  “No-” You choke it out tears already slipping down your face, “I just..I’m so exhausted and I feel like everyone hates me or forgot about me and I know somewhere in my head that that’s such a stupid thing to even worry about but I can’t stop worrying and-”  “Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright,” he shushes you, “I see now, I get it now.” He pushes your cheeks up under his palms, “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. I didn’t come sooner-”  “It’s not your job to take care of me-” You warble, “I’m being a stupid baby I-”  “Stop that. Just because something isn’t my job or responsibility doesn’t mean I still won’t wanna do it. You take care of me all the time.” “This isn't the same I-”  “Come on and give me a hug.” He cuts you off before you can get anything else out, “I really need a hug, can you?” He scoops you up, underneath your arms and pulls you forward, he drops back into your mussed up pillows.  “Tighter,” he complains as your arms coil around him weakly, and you laugh through a cascade of tears.  “Feels good to cry huh?” He’s holding the back of your head with more protective instinct than you’ve ever felt from anyone. His other hand pulls the blanket up around you.  “I couldn’t- I’ve been- all week and I just-” You hiccup, “I had to so bad but I couldn’t, and you-” He shushes you again. “Go on ahead, cry as much as you need to. I won’t say it doesn’t break my heart a little to hear it, but I know you’ll feel better after. And don’t go apologizing for this either, sometimes it’s just what you need. Let it all out. I’ll be here if you get sick from it. Afterward, I can help clean up, get you in a nice hot shower, make you something to eat? Sound good?”  “Will you stay all night?” You were pressed into his chest, his tear-stained shirt muffled your voice but he got the idea.  “Honey, I’ll stay as long as you want me.” 

Keigo Takami/Hawks The no. 2 hero rarely has much time to kill, that being said Keigo liked to make it a point to see you as often as he could, or at least to text you. But over the past few days, you'd hardly replied at all, and when you did they were just simple one or two-word answers. It worried him, gnawed at him, for a myriad of reasons; were you sick? Were you drowning in work? Had you run into some kind of trouble? Were you injured? Had you gotten tired of waiting up for him? Sick of canceled dates and being woken up by him clambering out of bed early in the morning to answer a call, exhausted by all the would-be intimate moments between the pair of you that were interrupted by his work? All of these possibilities were equal parts nerve-wracking and heartbreaking. If you were sick he wanted you to reach out and ask him for help, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t make time for if you were involved, he’d figure it out, he always did... if you were in some kind of trouble or injured did you not feel like you could ask him to come to watch out for you without being a bother to him? Did he make you feel like a burden? Or worst of all had you just grown tired of him? Him and his baggage and his job? The gnawing in his chest become too hard to ignore. He could pawn this patrol off on someone else, it was a slow enough day anyways, maybe Enji would do it. He snorted at the thought. He’d just fly by your window, see if you were in, what you were up to. Maybe you were just swamped at work, he reminded himself, sure he was busy but that didn't mean you couldn’t be too, and two busy partners can make for sparse communication, there was a fair chance all of this was just you being busy too. He counts the windows and flies up, it wasn’t hard to memorize which one leads to your apartment. When he gets up there the blinds are open, he can see right inside.  You woke up feeling okay today, okay enough that you figured maybe you could tackle this goddamn laundry at least, it was making such a mess in the hall and you thought maybe if you got that sorted out you’d feel a little more useful. But somehow you just ended up sitting on the floor in the hall, back against the wall, laundry basket spilled before you in a bigger mess than when you started. You may be an adult with a job and apartment but you were crying about the mess. You were an adult, you can cry about whatever you want, that’s a perk of being an adult. You sink further into the wall somehow.  His vantage point lets him look clean through the living room into the small hallway where you sat. It’s slightly cracked, just enough that a few feathers can wiggle in and push it open enough that he can slide his fingers underneath. He should head to the ground, walk up the stairs and knock, like a normal person. But he can’t help it, he’s panicked, what the hell happened to you? You were just sitting there, laundry basket spilled, sobbing into your hands? Were you hurt? Did someone break-in? He couldn’t waste time on foot.  “Hey-” He strangles it out as he’s contorting himself to duck into your window, “It’s okay, hey- I’m here, I’m here now, babe what happened?” He’s squeezing into your window, his wings folding and tufting up against the windowpane, “do you need my help? Are you hurt? Is someone here did someone-” He falls inside unceremoniously, a ball of red feathers and sherpa by your house plant.  You’d never been so happy to witness his stupid antics, you’d never met someone so smart yet so dumb. It felt good to see him, you hadn’t realized how much you missed him. “Keigo?” You drop the shirt you were crying into, “n-no, I’m not hurt I just dropped the laundry and..-” Coincidentally it was his shirt.  “Is this because of me?” He notices it fall to the ground, he looks incredibly guilty, “did I do something to upset you? To-” he scrambles up into a sitting position, “make you feel like I don’t care about you?” A feather is already righting the tipped over laundry basket, a few more collecting various tee shirts and socks.  “What?” You wipe your face with your hands as he clambers over to you, you sniffle, “no Keigo you didn’t-” You shake your head as he nudges your legs apart and sits between your bent knees, “I’m sorry I’m the problem it’s me-” You look forward to him and his eyebrows furrow.  “What do you mean? No one’s the problem there isn’t a problem what’s the-” He squeezes your arms, “forget it. Where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you..and now I find you crying on the ground and-”  “I’ve been here.” Your voice cracks, “I haven’t gone out once.” You laugh wetly, “it’s embarrassing. I just...I can’t do it. I feel so useless. I do nothing all day but I’m so tired Keigo..I’m even too tired to sleep..”  The mess that would have taken you days to clean on your own was practically rectified now, and Keigo hadn’t even lifted a finger.  “I’m sorry I worried you.” You wither back into the wall and he shakes his head.  “I don’t want sorry. I get it, I understand now.” He takes your face in his hands, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner-”  “Your job’s more important than taking care of me like a child-”  “That’s not a fair comparison. And it’s not true anyway. I know my work is important but that doesn’t mean other things can’t be important too. I want to be here for you. You would if it were me right?”  You nod meekly at that, “thank you for coming I- I don’t even know what happened one minute it was fine and the next I-”  “It doesn’t matter. It happens to the best of us. I just wish you’d called me. Asked for my help I... I was so worried that you were sick or..worse than that.. you were sick of me.” He laughs a little, “how stupid is that right? Like you’d ever get sick of me.”  “Does that feather have my underwear?” You look at it over his shoulder.  “Sorry. I... thought it would be funny.” It falls to the ground, you snort. “You’re right. That is stupid Keigo.” You murmur, “I’d never get sick of you.” “My job’s important, I know it eats up my time, and we don’t get to be together as much as I want to sometimes...”  “I think I should be the one pleading my case right now Keigo.” You laugh a little, “my apartment is disgusting, I’m crying over dropped laundry and you haven't even seen the state of my kitchen yet. I ignored you for days over nothing, I’ve barely showered I probably smell abysmal and-”  “It wasn’t over nothing and you don’t need to plead your case with me because you’re going through a rough patch, I’m the one that’s been too busy to notice you struggling-” He shakes his head, “all because of my work, I can’t... not do it but I want to be with you, I want to be with you all the time, I’m probably so annoying blowing up your phone and climbing in your window whenever I have a few second... I don’t know how you put up with me, I’d get sick of me in a few days.” He reaches out and tugs the bottom hem of your shirt aimlessly, “I don’t know how you do it. I guess all I do know is that I want you to stay near me.”  “Keigo-” You warble and pull him into your chest, “I'm sorry I scared you-”  “Don’t be sorry just...know that I want you to ask me for help...I know it’s easier said than done but..well I just said it. I just wanna be with you, all the time, like 24/7 I don’t even care what we’re doing. I’ll do all your laundry forever if you just stay near me while I do it. It’s not a bother you aren’t burdening me just ask me for help. I don’t want you to feel like this...let’s just..” He turns into the crook of your neck and sighs, “stay like this for a minute. And then I’ll help you clean up around here, that’s what's upsetting you right? The mess? Lucky for you I’ve got plenty of hands...well feathers. And then we’ll see what else we can get done, together okay babe?”  “Yeah.” You press your cheek into his hair, “thank you for understanding.”  Keigo nods, his finger traces the neckline of your shirt and he speaks again, “Please don’t pull away so much, I missed you, you’re the only person around here who has any fun besides Rumi, and whenever we’re together one of us ends up with a broken bone or worse.”  You snort at that, “okay, noted.”  “And I think you smell great by the way.” 

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca It felt weird to be away from Kugo so much. You just hated the idea of him seeing you like this. You were tired and irritable and in a mess all the time, you hadn’t changed your pants in days and the only meal you’d had over the past 3 days was crackers and bread, maybe toast depending on your mood. Not to mention the laundry situation or the chaotic state of your bathroom. You normally hated mess, and even though you didn’t have the energy to clean it ..it still made you terribly anxious.  You were almost out of crackers, you hated that you lived in the exact area Kugo patroled, it was how you’d met in the first place, and normally it was a delight to run into him on your way home from your own job, even just catching a glimpse of him patroling out your window usually really improved your mood but the thought of running into him now made you sick to your stomach. You couldn’t get the energy up to put something nicer on, but you didn’t even have a morsel of food left, everything you had you’d Mcgyvered into something to eat. If you saw him you’d have to explain where you’d been for the past week, why you’d been basically ignoring him, and even when you did answer him it was just to blow him off or send him to voicemail. You wanted to see him, but you were too afraid at this point, you’d dug yourself into a deep hole, there’s no way he wouldn’t be mad at you. Not that he’d ever gotten mad at you before really. But this time would be different. Or at least you’d convinced yourself of that. Maybe keeping your hood up would stop him from recognizing you.  You made it to the store with no incident, you were feeling pretty hopeful, though equally drained, you barely went up and down 3 isles before deciding you were done after finding the pre-made cold brew you’d been craving. It amounted to about 3 bags total, and the cold brew bottle wasn’t exactly small..well you could always order out.  Worried was a gross understatement, Kugo was sick with it. He wanted to barge in, everytime he offered to go to you you said no, you had a conference call, you were working late, your neighbors were fighting again, so on and so forth. That paired with the one to two-word answers he’d been receiving made his stomach hurt in a way he only experienced when he couldn’t tell the outcome of a big mission. He asked if you were okay practically every day and you always said you were fine. Though when he mentioned it to Hakamada the other hero informed him that ‘I’m fine’ was usually 'code’ for something else. If space was what you wanted then he’d let you have some...that being said when he saw what was certainly your receding figure on the street..wearing shorts in this weather?  “Hey-” His voice makes you jump out of your skin. God the universe seriously hates you this week.  “Kugo-” You don’t wanna turn around.  “What are you wearing? It’s freezing out you should be wearing a coat and pants.” He wraps an arm around you, “you’re shaking. What were you thinking huh?” He reaches out and takes your groceries too, “you better be going home.”  “I am..” You murmured, “I just needed to run out fast, I’m not cold, don’t get distracted from work because of me-”  “I’ll bring you home. It’s fine, don’t worry about that there are plenty of people out today.”  “I-”  “Please let me bring you home.” He huddles you into his side, “I’ve been worried..”  “Have you?”  “Of course I have, you’ve made yourself so scarce recently, and now this?”  “’m sorry..” You hug your chest as you turn the corner to your complex.  “Do you want me to come up with you?” He turns to you. Now you were at a crossroads, you’d seen him, you were seeing him, he was touching you, his side was warm and his arm around you was comforting and the idea of being alone was equally as upsetting as the idea of him seeing the state of your apartment or the state of you close up. “You aren’t even wearing layers.” He scoffs as the neckline of your hoodie dips a bit. “Do you want me, yes or no? Either is okay but you need to get inside before you get sick.”  “I do want you to come with me I just-”  “Well explain upstairs then.” He's ushering you inside the moment you finish. “Did you lose your keys?” He’s still squeezing you into his side when you stop at your front door. “I... don’t want you to see it.”  “See what my love? Your apartment? I think we’re a bit past that.” He presses his nose into your hood which is still covering your head. “It’s a mess- I’m a mess Kugo.”  “I doubt it's that bad. Even if it is I won’t mind, so let’s go in instead of standing out here like two fools.”  “Promise you won’t be mad.” You turn the key and he sighs.  “I promise.” The door creaks open and you aren’t sure if it’s your anxious mind playing tricks on you or if it’s 10x worse than what you remember.  “Oh god-” You warble, “I'm so sorry Kugo this is so embarrassing.” The way your voice breaks makes him jump. “Hey-” He sets your groceries down on the sliver of free counter space he can find, “no tears my love, no tears okay?” He puts his hands on your shoulders, “is this where you’ve been? Why you haven’t been talking to me? You’ve been all shut up in here?” He turns to you and you just want to fold in on yourself and disappear. “I wanted to clean, and I wanted to call you but  I just couldn’t get the energy to and it kept piling up and my bathroom is even worse and I didn’t know what to do and then even when I started to miss you I was too embarrassed at the idea of you seeing me like this because I can’t even comb my hair right now let alone take a shower or even change my clothes and I was afraid you’d be angry with me for letting it get so bad and I-” “Stop.” He pulls you forward and you fall against him wistlessly, “relax, you’ll work yourself up to tears like that.” He cups the back of your head. “I won’t ever be mad you for something like this. Why would you be afraid of that?” He takes your face in his hands, “and why would you be embarrassed of me seeing you when you don’t feel well? I’m here to help you.” He nudges your hood back, “call me sooner next time, please, if not for your sake for mine.” A big hand cups the nape of your neck, “I was worried sick about you dear.”  “I’m sorry-” Your voice cracks, “I’m sorry Kugo I just-”  “I understand. I’m sorry too, I should have checked in sooner, I should have made sure you knew you can trust me with this sort of thing.” “It’s my fault not your’s don’t be sorry Kugo I-” You’re blinking back tears and he sighs. “There’s no sense in going back and fourth about it.” His thumb rubs your temple, “I’m just glad I’m here now. I’m sorry you don’t feel well but seeing you after so long is a relief, I really missed you.”  “I missed you too Kugo-” Your voice cracks and you throw your arms around his neck and shoulders.  “Do you need to cry? Don’t hold back for my sake.” A big hand rubs circles between your shoulder blades egging you on, “if crying will help then cry. I’m right here for you. No more worrying okay my dear?”  “Okay-” You wipe your nose on your sleeve over his shoulder, tears falling freely, “thank you for coming Kugo-” Your feet are hardly on the ground anymore, your face nestled into his shoulder, “I’m sorry for getting tears all over your-”  “What did I say about worrying?” He pulls you back and uses his thumb to clean off one cheek, leaning down and brushing his nose against the other you let out a thankful sigh at the gentle touch.  “I just can’t help it Kugo-” You murmur, voice still wet with tears, “i just love you so much and I don’t-”  “Oh, you’re such a sweet little thing.” He pulls you up a bit by your cheeks, “it just breaks my heart to see you like this. I may never let you out of my sight again.”  “I’m okay with that.” You duck into his neck with a hiccup and he laughs.  “I love you too, why don’t you take a warm shower, I’ll help you however I can, then I think we should call it a night, we can worry about the mess tomorrow.” “You don’t mind?” You squeeze him around his shoulders and he hums.  “I don’t mind at all.” He promises, “I’ll do whatever I can to help you feel better.”