#as soon as i finish this other prompt lol

[shivunin]

Breath of Life

In which Zevran meets a familiar Crow in the streets of Denerim

(Full version (Explicit) on AO3 here)

CW: Hurt/comfort; Blood, wounds, combat, death, spiders; references to near-death experiences

“When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself.”

Arianwen stared up the stairs at the stranger with the cruel face. Her hand rested on one of the daggers at her back; if Zevran had not made it clear that he knew this man, she would have thrown it already. 

“Is that so?” Zevran said, his voice holding an unfamiliar cold note, “Well—here I am, in the flesh.”

“You can return with me, Zevran,” the Crow at the top of the stairs said, his face twisting into an expression of false sympathy that set Wen’s teeth on edge, “I know why you did this, and I don’t blame you. It’s not too late. Come back and we’ll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake.”

 Somewhere behind her, she heard Alistair take a slow breath. There was no need to look at him; she knew his hand was already on the hilt of his sword. 

Ready to step between them if Zevran tried to stab her in the back. 

Anyone can make a mistake. Yes; that was something Wen knew all too well. She’d made far too many herself, though she tried to think about them as little as possible. Had it been a mistake to trust Zevran? To fall in—

No. 

No, she didn’t think so. 

Wen turned to look at her lover, lifting her chin, and spoke. 

“Of course, I’d need to be dead first.”

Zevran met her eyes, reading something there, and gave her the smallest nod before turning again to Taliesen.

“And I’m not about to let that happen,” Zevran said, resolution coloring every syllable of the words. 

She had not doubted him—not really, not after the past few months—but even so, some unnamed fear melted away in Arianwen’s chest.

“What? You��ve gone soft!” Taliesen spat. Scorn painted deep lines on either side of his mouth, and to her right Zevran’s shoulders loosened slightly. 

Someone was creeping closer to Wen’s group; she could see them out of the corner of her eye, shifting slightly beside the stairs. The blade at her back came free from its bandolier soundlessly, slipping into her hands like the touch of an old friend. 

“I am sorry, my old friend,” Zevran said, and Wen knew him well enough to know that the note of sadness in his voice was real, “But the answer is no. I’m not coming back…and you should have stayed in Antiva.”

The Crows who’d been creeping closer struck, Taliesen among them. As Zevran finished speaking, Tabris’s hand whipped out from behind her back and her blade bloomed from the throat of the fighter by the stairs. They fell soundlessly, not that any of them could have noticed; battle had been joined in full, and she and her friends had their hands full already. 

Zevran darted past her and up the stairs, sword and dagger in hand. That seemed right; a betrayal by an old friend must be his to handle by rights. She did not try to stop him, nor did she follow him. When another Crow raised her blade to intercept Zevran, Arianwen threw another dagger, and then another when the first failed to incapacitate the woman. While the steel spiraled through the air, she slicked her sword with poison and blocked a blow meant for her shoulder. 

There had been a break in the crowd right at the beginning, which was how Zev had gotten through, but the rest closed ranks around them now. Wen found herself back to back with Alistair, batting away another slash at her torso before she stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled hard. 

She’d no idea where the lovely spider kept herself while they traveled through Denerim, but Princess dropped down from a rooftop nearby and leapt for a bowman, snapping him up in her pincers with a sickening crunch. 

“Ugh,” Alistair said emphatically, and Wen laughed, already caught in the high she always felt when fighting. 

“Don’t fuss, Ali, I’m sure it’s delightful—right, Morrigan?” Arianwen said, but it was no use; the mage in question did not have a mouth fit for speaking at the moment. A bear battled at their side instead, batting one Crow into another with a crushing blow of the paw. When the two fell, the crowd around them opened for a moment and she had a clear view of her lover, still fighting at the top of the stairs.

Zevran could hold his own; she knew that. What Wen did not know was how to balance her feelings for him with an honest estimate of his abilities. For example—he bled from a wound along his side now, and though it was plainly a slice across the ribs the sight of it filled her with an unbounded rage. 

How dare this stranger lay hands on one under her protection? How dare he harm what was hers?

She fought all the harder, some of the joy of battle going from her all at once. She threw a handful of dust into the face of one man, then slit his throat while he was still coughing. When he fell away, she shifted forward, and drove her foot between the legs of the man who tried to block her. It would have been smart to stab him in the heart when he fell to the ground, but she leapt over him instead and started up the stairs. Alistair cursed behind her, and there was another horrible crunch, but Arianwen paid them little mind. 

Taliesen was laughing, batting away Zevran’s dagger and returning the attempted blow with a strike across Zevran’s forearm. She could see the jump in the muscle along his jaw, a sure sign that he was in pain, and his sword fell from his hand. 

A body was in her way; Arianwen hardly even looked at it as she drove her longsword into its belly and shook it from the steel. 

At the top of the stairs, Zevran danced away from another blow and sliced Taliesen’s cheek. The latter laughed as blood poured down his cheek, then swung hard at Zev. Dodge, dodge, strike—but Zevran had overextended himself and knew it, from the way his brows drew down even as his dagger drove toward Taliesen’s throat. 

She was not moving fast enough. He needed her—he needed her and she was—

Wen spat in the face of the person before her, drove a dagger through his eye, then threw it at Taliesen. It would have hit—she knew damn well how to throw a dagger, even one with a hilt like this—but another Crow got in the way, dancing back from the bear ascending the steps behind her. The dagger killed the woman, but it was too late. 

Taliesen caught Zevran’s wrist, grinned, and drove his blade into her lover’s belly. 

“No,” Tabris screamed, ducking the Crow’s body that slumped before her. Magic hissed past her face and struck Taliesen, but Wen paid it little mind. Zevran slid from Taliesen’s blade, his face turned up, one hand still clutching a dagger—her mother’s dagger, the one her father had hidden under the floorboards for over a decade. 

Arianwen felled another assassin and dodged their falling body to race upward. It felt like all of this was happening too slow; she couldn’t seem to lift her leaden legs, nor to make her eyes focus as they ought. 

Taliesen laughed when Zevran hit the ground. Then, he bent and reached for the rosewood and silver hilt of her mother’s dagger.

No; he would not. Could not. She would not allow it.

Wen found a burst of speed from some hidden well within her and threw herself at Taliesen, knocking him back several steps before he recovered. 

“Don’t be mad,” he laughed, “It’s what he wanted!” 

Wen dodged a blow, rapidly scanning the wounds Zev had scored into the man’s body. He was favoring his left side and his arm was bleeding badly. Good; she would make this quick, damn him. 

Zevran needed her. 

“Didn’t you know?” Taliesen went on, swinging for her arm and dodging back when she took advantage of the opening to stab at his side. 

“He came here to die. I’m only giving him what he wanted.”

Taliesen grunted when her sword dug deep into his bicep, then dropped his dagger when Arianwen pulled away. Good; she’d hit something important, then. There was a buzzing in Wen’s ears that did not entirely sound like the usual battlesong her blood hummed to her. No; it was fear, fear she never felt when she fought anymore. 

Zevran lay on the ground beside her, choking on his own blood—and the man who would call him dead was still talking. 

Wen ducked a strike, spun up beneath his guard, and drove her poisoned dagger sideways between his ribs—a trick Zev had taught her. 

Damn him, he had to live. 

“Clever tr—” Taliesen began as the blood began to spread beneath his tunic. He did not go on; ice spread from his chest to his mouth, stilling his tongue, and Arianwen did not wait for Morrigan’s spell to wear off. 

She kicked her mother’s dagger into the air, replacing the one she’d left on the stairs, and caught it in one smooth motion. When she drove it into the man’s heart, it made a soft crackling noise, as a kitchen knife cutting into frozen meat. 

“Shut up,” she spat, and pulled the dagger loose with a practiced tug. 

Taliesen fell to the stone behind her, but she was no longer looking at him—or anything else. The fight might still be going on down the stairs. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. The others could take care of themselves; her Zevran could not. 

“Zev, Zevran,” she said, falling to her knees and dropping both blades without a second thought, “Look at me. Look at me?” 

His eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, as if he was trying to do as she said, and one hand pressed over the gaping wound in his belly. 

Maker; she’d seen the blade go through to the other side. He wasn’t—he wasn’t—

“Open—open your mouth,” she said instead, slipping one arm under his neck and tugging a potion from her belt with the other hand, “Open—for me?”

Zevran’s lips did not move; Wen had to do it instead, pressing his lower lip open so she could tip the viscous red potion into his mouth. He swallowed reflexively, his breath wheezing horribly as soon as he’d finished. 

“It’s going—you’ll be—” she could not find the words. Wen had never been good at comfort, and now that she needed to know what she was saying the right words flew right out of her head. She positioned herself more fully underneath him, cradling the curve of her head in one hand. 

“...wen,” he said, the words more of a rasp than they were words, and she huddled over him. 

If anyone stood behind her with a blade, the strike to end her life would be very easy. She could not even say that she was wary or paying attention; there was no ounce of her focus directed anywhere but at the limp body in her arms. 

“...I,” he tried again, but she shook her head. 

“Don’t—don’t try to talk,” she said, though it felt like there was a hand gripping her throat to stop her words, “Rest, just rest, please.”

Zevran sighed, the exhalation whistling painfully, and he went still in her arms. 

“Zev?” she said, jostling him slightly, and pressed a hand to his throat. 

Was his heart beating? Could she feel the pulse there? She couldn’t tell; her hands were shaking too hard to feel his skin properly, and he was so still. 

“Zevran?” she said again, her voice high and unfamiliar, “Zevran? Look at me, please, oh—No, no, you can’t. You can’t. You promised me, you promised—”

Water dripped down his face, and it was several dizzying breaths before Arianwen realized that they were tears. Her tears, and he was not stirring at the touch of them. She kissed him instead, desperately and repeatedly somehow certain, certain beyond the touch of any doubt, that this must be the thing that made him open his eyes again.

His lips remained still and unmoving beneath hers. Even dozing in the mornings, he responded to her touch; he had never failed to kiss her back. Never, never.

“You promised,” Wen said again, weeping in earnest now. Her grip was tight around his shoulders, and as she spoke Morrigan knelt across from her. 

“Hush,” the witch snapped, firmly enough that Wen’s mouth snapped closed. She could not see the magic the other woman called, but she could feel the hum of it in the air, like a struck tuning fork. An armored hand settled on her shoulder—Alistair’s—and she flinched at the touch. 

“Is he—” Wen began, but Morrigan glared at her until she shut her mouth again. 

It only took a moment; she knew, because she’d seen Wynne cast this same spell a hundred times. Even so, time seemed to stretch before her like a hallway in a nightmare, looming and threatening and dark. Wen’s hands curled into the warmth of Zevran’s body, a silent entreaty, and Alistair’s hand bolstered her, steadying Tabris when she felt she might shake apart. 

Morrigan’s hands fell away. Arianwen, still weeping no matter how she tried to stop, curled over Zevran again and cleared the bloodied golden hair from his face. 

“Come back,” she whispered, as if words could hold him to her, as if words had done a single thing when she’d watched her mother cut to pieces in the street before their house in the alienage. 

“Please,” she said, “Please. Come back to me. You promised.” 

A moment; one silent, awful moment, and then—

Zevran coughed, convulsing in her arms, and dragged his eyes open. They took a moment to focus on her properly, but when they did a smile crept slowly up the sides of his mouth. 

“Now, Warden,” he said, his voice worn and ragged, “Tell me you are not crying over a little flesh wound.”

She stared at him for a moment, tears still falling unchecked from her cheeks. Zevran beamed up at her, as if he’d just done some clever knife trick, and that was what did it.

“I hate you,” she sobbed, bowing over his body until she clutched him too close to see his face, “I hate you, you awful man, don’t you ever—”

“You do not—”

“—ever do that to me again, I thought—”

“—hate me, my dear, I am far too—”

“—you were dead, I thought you—”

“—handsome and clever to hate, and in any case—”

“—left me alone!”

At the vehemence of her words, Zevran sighed and fell silent. The others shifted on either side of them, and soon she heard feet on the stairs beyond. Thank the Maker for that; she felt like she was shaking apart, and the only thing holding her together was the arm he’d wrapped around her back

“I am right here, mi vida,” he murmured, and she squeezed, “Though I may not be if you hold me any tighter.”

Arianwen loosened her grip, sniffling faintly, and turned away to wipe her face clean when he sat up under his own power. 

This—this was exactly what she’d feared when he’d kissed her by the fire all those months ago. She cared too much; it hurt her too much to see him hurt, and the thought of him dying—of leaving her—

She could not bear it. She had to bear it. Tabris was caught between the knowledge of both, the very breath squeezed from her lungs by the conflict between the two.

Wen lifted her mother’s dagger from the stone beside her, pulled a cloth from her pocket, and turned her face away from him while she cleaned it. She took her time, as if the task demanded all her attention, as if each speck of blood on the steel was a personal affront. Zevran drank another potion from his belt before resting his arms on his knees and sighing. 

“And there it is,” he said after a moment, “Taliesen is dead, and I am free of the Crows.”

Wen glanced at him, wiped her face on her shoulders, and returned her attention to the blade. She would need to oil it, she thought, once they returned to Eamon’s estate. It ought to be fully, properly cleaned. 

It was several minutes before Zevran went on.

“They will assume that I am dead along with Taliesen,” he said, ”So long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out.”

Wen had to take a drink from her waterskin before she could answer him; her throat still felt too thick, too dry, as if the nearness of losing him had tattered her vocal cords. 

“That’s a good thing, right?” she said at last, and Zevran chuckled. The chuckle grew to a laugh, until he clutched his stomach and coughed instead. 

“A very good thing—it is, in fact, what I’d hoped for ever since you decided not to kill me,” he said, once the coughing stopped. 

Wen nodded once. Away down the stairs, the other two were arguing over a body, Morrigan’s hands in the air and Alistair’s on his hips. Princess was slowly and methodically wrapping a corpse in her web, her long legs delicate and graceful as they spun the body around. Good; they were all fine for the moment. 

Arianwen held the dagger by the blade and extended it to Zevran without looking. He took it from her hand, careful not to cut her, and she heard the soft noise of steel against leather when he tucked it away again.

“ I suppose,” he said tentatively, “it would be…possible for me to leave now. If I wished, I could go far away, somewhere where the Crows would never find me.”

Arianwen stood and retrieved her sword, leaning against the wall beside the platform. She could not watch him while he told her he was leaving; she could hardly look at him at all after what had just happened. He was still sitting in a pool of his own blood; was she to ignore that while he spoke of traipsing across Thedas without her?

Zevran rose with a grunt of pain and she straightened at once, ready to offer aid. He didn’t need it—he rose without help and ran a hand over the blood covering the front of his armor.  

“I think,” he went on contemplatively, “however, that I could also stay here. I…made an oath to help you, after all. And…saving the world seems a worthy task to see through to the end, yes?”

Zevran looked up at her, then, a hopeful glint to his eye, and her heart thudded against her ribs. Stay—oh, she wanted him to stay. Hope hurt her, almost more than the fear had, and she had to push past both before she could bring herself to speak.

“I would be glad to have you stay,” she said, and the words sounded wooden, not like her at all. Zevran didn’t seem to care; he moved closer stiffly, one hand still pressed to his stomach. Tabris turned to face him when he moved, until both of them were leaning against the wall, only inches apart.

“Then stay I shall,” he said, resting one hand on her face and stroking the swell of her cheek, “I am with you until the end.”

It might almost have been romantic; Wen was already stepping closer to kiss him, in fact, the relief of him living and staying stronger than her need to find a small, quiet place to hide away in. 

But—then Zevran went on talking.

“Provided you do not tire of me first,” her lover said with a foolish little smile, “Or I die. Or you die. But—there you go.”

Arianwen tipped her face against his chest, incapable of speech. Or I die—like it was a joke! Like she hadn’t thought she’d lost him not twenty minutes earlier!

Zevran kissed the top of her head by way of apology. 

Arianwen snorted, then laughed; there was absolutely nothing funny about this, or anything that had just happened. She had killed one of his oldest friends; she’d held his dying body in her arms, incapable of doing a single thing to keep him here. 

And she was desperately, endlessly glad that he was still here to make the stupidest, most ill-timed jokes. Wen tipped her head back and laughed, and laughed, until his mouth caught hers and swallowed the sound of it. 

They stood there kissing for a long time, his lips still tasting strongly of elfroot, until the other two went silent behind them and Wen had to walk away to make sure neither had killed the other. 

But she could feel him still, walking along behind her, watching her back—as he was meant to do, for as long as he’d stay by her side. She had only to reach a hand behind her and he would be within reach, reassuring her—reassuring both of them—that this had not been an end after all. 

“Let us move on,” he said when they neared the others, and Arianwen finally let herself relax.

(For @greypetrel's prompt, "a kiss shared while holding your dying lover." It got away from me a bit, but I hope you enjoyed the pain!! c:)

[sharonisthebettercarter]

Rocker Miguel and pbmj au when???

when i queue it you impatient lil greedy bug you~<3!

[bbokicidal]

"Are you serious...?" - Angst! [Hyung Line SKZ]

Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.

If people like this - a maknae line will be written! If not, prolly not lol.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - some of these aren't even that bad or could be misunderstandings but still.

Maknae Line | "Good Luck, Babe." Part Two!! Here!

BangChan - Brushing off/Having the wrong priorities

One time, it was him forgetting a dinner date - the next, he was staying at the studio late when he was supposed to be meeting your parents for the first time. You let it slide because ultimately you understood that his job took up a lot of his time, and honestly? It wasn't easy to forget about but he had a tendency to take care of you and make up with it by quick gestures before he left the apartment or when he came home; Soft back hugs, quick cuddles before he fell asleep, or kisses in passing. Lately, however, he's been slacking. He'd begun to shrug you off any time you'd touched his arm or hand, nudging you away while he typed on his laptop. He'd tip his head away from yours while laying in bed together or he'd sit further away on the dressing room sofa.

The tipping point was when he was getting ready to go on stage and was standing in wait for the others to be ready. There was still five minutes and Chris looked a bit jittery, so you figured a quick hug or kiss would help ease his nerves. However as soon as you approach and reach to touch his arms, he steps back and keeps his eyes trained on his phone. You reach again, hesitant, and his brow furrows as he maneuvers to the side to get away. "Don't touch me."

Your lips pop apart in surprise. "...Are you serious?"

He looks over, eyes briefly wandering your face before he reaches to fix his in-ear and walks away to the door, disappearing around the corner and leaving you standing there alone. Even the soft touch of Felix's hand on your back as he passed by was warmer than anything you'd felt from Chris in the last two months.

Lee Know - Keeping secrets / Prioritizing Privacy within himself

Minho had a very, very bad habit of not telling you things. In this instance; That he was leaving for tour in two days.

A world. fucking. tour. The only reason you didn't know about it was because you hadn't been out of your home in the last few weeks unless it was for a quick coffee at the cafe or to grab lunch with a friend. Work was heavy during this time of year and as someone who worked remotely, you often spent grueling hours in your office on your computer - hunched, tired, head pounding and back sore.

So you would think that when you entered your bedroom one evening after just finishing up sorting files in your office, you'd be happy to see your boyfriend already there. And you were for a moment, until you realized he was packing three rather large suitcases full of his clothes and necessities. He looks to you, then away, wordless.

"Are.. you.. moving out, or something?" You breathe in a laugh, eyes wandering over Minho as he folds a t-shirt and tucks it into his suitcase with the others.

"No. I have to bring all of my luggage to the company building tomorrow so they can have it at the airport when we leave for Australia."

"Australia?" Your brows quirk. "When -- Why --"

"Tour." He stops his movements to stare over at you, a hint of irritation evident on his face. "We're going on tour for six months."

"Six--" You breathe out, eyes widening. "Six months. And you didn't think to tell me?"

Minho moves to drop a pair of pants in his suitcase. "I would've told you if you could handle the news, maybe. Every time I mention leaving all you do is whine and pout about how long I'll be gone."

"I get upset, yes, what girlfriend wouldn't be upset that her boyfriend is leaving for a week or two? But six months, Minho, I --"

"Don't start." He all but huffs out the words, shutting you up immediately. Minho turns away to continue folding items of clothing on the shared bed and as you watch him do so, you stand and have to wonder if you want to be there when he returns home from the tour.

Changbin - Not knowing the difference between being rude and being blunt

He didn't seem to understand when to stop. Changbin had a tendency to be honest, sometimes to a fault, though you never seemed to complain about it because most of the time it wasn't a big deal. He called Jeongin out for saying the wrong word when singing, or blatantly threw people under the bus when a joke was taken too far.

And he was like that with you, too. He would be honest with you when you asked his opinion of something - was the shirt unflattering? Were you being too loud? Was your makeup bad today?

He'd lay it on you point blank. Yes, the shirt fit a little weird. Yes, you were being a bit loud in his ear. And yes, your eyeliner was going in two different directions. Criticism that was asked for. But when it wasn't asked for? Oh.

"What is your problem?" He bites as he follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. "We have ten minutes, just wear the damn dress and put your shoes on. We have to go."

Your huffs mix with stifled sobs as you rip open your dresser drawer and dig for other options, hands shaking and eyes teary. "You just told me the dress looks ugly, Changbin. I'm not wearing it out if you don't like it--!"

"What does it matter if i don't like it? It's your body, wear what you want!"

"You're my boyfriend!" You retaliate, frustrated. "I want to look nice for you and -- for the group, and I want you to like what I wear, obviously!"

Changbin lets his eyes roll before he turns out of the bedroom doorway and down the hall. You pause to watch him go, listening as he bites about how he doesn't have time for this and needs to leave for the group dinner. You stand in front of your dresser in shock as the door to your apartment slams shut, leaving you in silence and all on your own.

Hyunjin - Being too cocky / Making you feel inferior

It hadn't happened before now, and you weren't sure why it happened at all. But it did.

You'd approached to gently hold onto your boyfriend's arm as he talked to an older idol - someone he looked up to and had just done a collaboration video with. You'd only come up to tell him that the food was delivered and he could have dinner before his stage, but the look he gave you when he finally turned his head was .... wild.

No words were needed. The way his eyes directed to the side you stood at before falling as if looking you over and then immediately looking away; The way the smirk on his lips only widened and his tongue pushed at his canines as he redirected his gaze elsewhere. The soft scoff that left his lips. The way his arm slipped away from your hold in clear nuance that he didn't want you touching him.

It made you feel like less. Like he was pretending he didn't know you - Like he wanted you to bug off and disappear from his line of sight.

Hyunjin had a tendency to put on a confident, bold persona when he was on stage and at first you thought maybe that was why he was acting this way. It was lingering in his body from the dance video he'd just filmed with the other idol and eventually, it would wear off.

But as he turned from you and lifted a hand to fix his hair, he talks to the other as if you're not even there at all. And you have to wonder if it's a persona for the video, or a side of him you had just experienced for the first time. Now you could only hope it wouldn't happen again.

[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[street-smarts00]

Complimentary Colors

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 7.3K

Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?

tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.

You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them. 

All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work. 

His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.

It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job. 

But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long. 

And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 

Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats. 

“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family. 

“I was working off of the profile . . .” 

“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected. 

“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.

“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.

“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts  . . .” 

“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.

“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“It sure sounded like it.” 

“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights. 

“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room. 

You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up. 

“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured. 

You both replied with a monotone “yes.”

“Good” 

Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it. 

The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases. 

As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life. 

But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them. 

The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door. 

“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in. 

He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down. 

Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood. 

The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.  

They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair. 

After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair. 

While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable. 

“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer. 

“I’m fine.”

He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that. 

“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 

You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves. 

“Maybe for a bit.” 

You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him. 

Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”

“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort. 

“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.” 

“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.

“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in. 

“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.” 

“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.  

“A bit what?” 

“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.

He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. 

“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.” 

Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?

“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.” 

“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth. 

“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand. 

You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer. 

“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand. 

"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood. 

"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."

“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up. 

“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.” 

He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.

"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition." 

Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it. 

“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.” 

“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.

“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted. 

A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?” 

You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.” 

Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.” 

You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it. 

“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response. 

"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.” 

“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”  

“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.” 

You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.

"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you." 

You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended. 

He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.

Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”

"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.” 

Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 

He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.” 

You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful. 

“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke. 

“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.” 

“What would you like to know?” You asked. 

He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate. 

“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 

“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing. 

“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?” 

“Purple.” He replied. 

You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus. 

“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious. 

“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew. 

He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”

“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.” 

His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out. 

“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?” 

“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say. 

“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.” 

He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.” 

There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him. 

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Of course.” 

“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various  building blocks that made him the way he was. 

Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.” 

“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 

“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer. 

“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.

You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.” 

Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.

”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.

“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”

You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed. 

“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.

“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.

“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember. 

“Which one did you like the most?” 

“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.” 

Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open. 

“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”

“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly. 

“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.” 

“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.

“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.” 

He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist. 

“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”

He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture. 

“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 

He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to. 

“I will.” 

“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.” 

“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention. 

“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?” 

He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. 

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable. 

You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.

He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?” 

“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.” 

He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?” 

“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.

"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him. 

“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.” 

Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.

“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.

“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.

“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.

"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash." 

When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself. 

“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.      

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.

“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.

“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked. 

"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you. 

"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.

You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms. 

"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.

“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back. 

He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.

“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.

"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.

“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.

“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed. 

“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.                                 

“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.

“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.” 

“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.  

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.

"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”

You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.” 

Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on. 

"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him. 

"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.

You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.

“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.” 

He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough. 

“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked. 

“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 

“Make me.”

Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 

Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him. 

“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased. 

He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you. 

"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry. 

“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.

"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”

Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.

“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.

"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.

Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.

"You are.”

You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.” 

"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."

You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?” 

"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior." 

Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”

"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"  

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively. 

He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 

“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused. 

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."

“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”

If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips. 

It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”

"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 

“Make me.”

Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.

”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled. 

The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do. 

You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.

"No. Don’t,” he begged. 

"Really?" You whispered softly. 

He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."

You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder. 

"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me? 

He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read. 

He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"

You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”

"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.” 

Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?” 

You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 

“Yes..”

It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.

When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed. 

“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately. 

You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.

Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever. 

The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other. 

”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk. 

You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react. 

His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.

“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.”  Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door. 

You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”

“Yup”

~

He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked. 

“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels. 

“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”

The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.

JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?” 

Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.” 

[lynnie-ee]

Day 11; Dream.

╰┈➤"Your assignment for Crewel's class was easy; brewing a potion that allowed you to dream about your future at night. But you didn't expect a housewarden to appear on it, and even less to encounter him the morning after, as you were well aware of what waited for the two of you."

╰►Gender neutral reader, scenarios, 1.8k words. Mentions of marriage in almost all of them, mention of children in Kalim's part.

╰► Characters: Riddle, Leona, Kalim, Vil.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

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“So, if we do the potion correctly we’ll be able to dream about our future tonight?”

“That’s right, pup.” Professor Crewel nodded as he pointed at the board, where the steps for the potion were clearly written in detail, with all the considerations that were expected to be taken for the use of the components for the potion.

“That’s so cool…” Deuce mumbled, his eyes observing the board with excitement.

“You have an hour; you can start now.” Crewel signalized as each of you started to work on your potion.

By the end of the class, and after everyone had finished, it was finally the moment to drink the potion. You sighed with exhaustion, after spending the last hour doing your assignment at the same time as you helped Grim with his own potion.

“I already know I’ll be the greatest mage of all but it doesn’t hurt to see it by myself!” Grim spoke with a confident demeanour, drinking the potion immediately. You just giggled and imitated his action, although a bit slower than him.

The next morning, as you walked towards your classroom, you encountered Ace and Deuce in the middle of the hallway, with disappointed expressions on their faces.

“Oh, hello Prefect.” Deuce mumbled as soon as he saw you, which made you curious of their attitude.

“What’s the matter, boys? The potion didn’t work?” You frowned slightly, wondering what kind of future they could have for them to be in such a bad mood.

“I didn’t dream anything.” He sighed, as Ace groaned next to him.

“Me neither.” The Heartslabyul first-year murmured irritated. “Man, this really sucks…”

“Were you able to have the dream, Prefect?”

You stared at both of your friends for a few seconds, a sensation of heat reaching your cheeks after you recalled the events of the last night. You coughed to try to cover up your embarrassment, deciding to keep your dream to yourself.

“…No, I didn’t. A pity, really. Very unfortunate. Let’s go to class already, okay?” You suggested, walking past them to continue your way towards the classroom, too focussed on running away to notice the other student who was walking in the opposite direction, promptly crashing into him before you could avoid it.

“Oh, Prefect, are you okay?” You heard a voice call you as he held you to prevent you from falling.

‘Please don’t be him, please don’t be him…’ You thought to yourself as you raised your head to see the person who was talking to you. ‘Great Sevens, it’s him.’

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﹙❥﹚Riddle Rosehearts ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

“A pristine and beautiful home. Multiple pictures hung around the walls, along with diplomas and newspaper clippings that were arranged by you. A warm kitchen, a freshly baked strawberry tart on the table, matching hedgehog mugs. The front door opens, Riddle enters your home as he takes off his coat, immediately walking towards you to greet you with a soft kiss, far gentler than you have ever seen him before.

‘Hello, my rose. I see you got out of work early. Ah, you baked strawberry tart? But you must be tired. I’ll make tea while you take a break. What are you saying? I should be making herbal tea according to the Queen’s rules because of the hour? Just like old times…Fine, I’ll indulge you. Just rest for now, alright? I love you too.’ “

“I asked if you’re alright. Perhaps you hit yourself in the head?” Riddle, the actual Riddle asked once again, as you stared at him while still remembering your dream from last night.

“No, I’m okay!” You quickly stand straight, enlarging the distance between him and you, as he observes you with a stoic frown, an expression quite different from the one you recalled from the future. “I was just distracted. You probably were on your way to class, please don’t worry.”

“It’s nothing.” He mumbled, watching your nervous expression as he wondered the reason behind your unusual behaviour. “You’ll be late if you stand there, don’t get too distracted.” He added before turning back, making you sigh out of relief as you expected to be left alone to die of embarrassment by yourself, until Riddle looked at you briefly. “Ah, now I remember. Trey asked me to invite you to Heartslabyul this afternoon. He baked strawberry tart and said you might fancy an invitation.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, the question slipping out of your mouth before you could think about it. “Oh, of course, that’s your favourite, right?”

“You are correct, Prefect. Though, I wonder how you knew about that.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his puzzled expression.

“I just guessed it right, you could say.”

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﹙➹﹚Leona Kingscholar ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶ

“A crowded room, different people greeting you left and right, the sound of lively chattering. A frown on your beloved’s expression, Kifaji’s attentive gaze upon the two of you, the beautiful moonlight outside the ballroom. A hand guiding you outside the room, gently taking you to the garden to comfortably lay on the ground with him laying his head on your lap.

‘I couldn’t bear it anymore, I bet you were also tired from so many people. Being the spouse of the Second Prince isn’t all that good now, hm? What are you saying, you’re alright with it if it’s for me? You get so emotional at late hours, herbivore. You look exhausted, come here, I’ll carry you back to our room. Don’t you think I’ll do it for free, though, you better be a nice pillow when we arrive.’ “

“Watch where you’re going.” A harsh voice took out of your thoughts, a deadpanned expression on your voice when you realized the contrast between your dream and the man standing before you with the biggest scowl, showing you his annoyance. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“I was on my way, actually.” You stood with your back straight, trying to appear taller to show him confidence. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to have class with Trein at this hour?”

“He’s not gonna notice, either way.” He watched as you frowned at him. “And I don’t care if he does, honestly. I’m going to the Botanical Garden, you’re coming to.” He took you by the arm to drag you in the opposite direction you were walking, a perplexed look on your face as Ace and Deuce continued their path instead of helping you.

“And why do I have to?!”

“Hm? You almost made me fall just now, don’t think I’ll let you slide that so easily."

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﹙ꕤ﹚Kalim Al-Asim ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

“Soft pillows all around the living room, warm tea, a beautiful scenery outside the window. The pleasant air of the Scalding Sands, the smell of freshly cooked meals, the joyful expressions of the children around you, were they your own or were they Kalim’s siblings? Him entering the room with the most contagious smile, running to you as soon as he spotted you to hold you in his arms, kissing you excitedly, a subtle urgency in his touch.”

‘Ah, I missed you so much! I didn’t leave for long, but I really needed to see you again. My trip was perfect, I hadn’t visited Jamil in such a long time so we talked a lot, and he sent you his greetings too! You should come with me next time, or would rather visit your friends at the Queendom of Roses? Whatever you want, I’ll arrange it immediately, so please tell me, sunshine.’ ”

“Ohhh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking, are you okay Prefect?” Kalim was quick to ask, promptly inspecting your appearance to make sure you were alright.

"Yes, please don't worry, I should've been more careful..."

"What is it? Are you feeling tired, Prefect?"

"...Yeah, I didn't sleep well last night." You decided to use an excuse, not wanting to dig too deeply into your dreams from last night.

"You're always so busy! Perhaps you want to stop by Scarabia after class? Jamil is making curry tonight, maybe that'll make you feel better." He smiled warmly at you, his expression so sincere that it was hard for you to decline his invitation.

"I wouldn't want to bother you or Jamil, to be honest-"

"You're never a bother! You can also invite your friends, if you want. I'll be waiting for you, okay?"

You couldn't help but imitate his smile, chuckling at his kind demeanour.

"Of course, I'll be there."

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﹙𑁍﹚Vil Schoenheit ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

“Designer clothes, flashing lights, cameras all around you. The most elegant red carpet you’ve ever seen, posters with Vil’s face on it, fans screaming his name but also yours. His arm around your waist, reporters asking about your honeymoon, Vil replying how wonderful it was and how fortunate he was to have married such a lovely person.

‘I’m sorry, my love, I hope it wasn’t too exhausting for you. I’m glad you had a great night; you don’t know how grateful I am to you for joining me for these events. You’re concerned about being in the spotlight? You have nothing to worry about, my fans adore you. You shine naturally, my dear.’ “

“You should be more careful, Potato.” Vil’s usual stern voice rang in your ears, as you felt yourself blushing, the memories about him talking to you so sweetly still fresh in your mind. “And more attentive, too, did you rush outside your dorm without looking at yourself in the mirror?”

“I was just…distracted, this morning.”

“Don’t make excuses.” He added with a strict demeanour, but you could see that he was simply caring for you, in his own way, as he fixed your tie and buttoned up your blazer. “There it is, much better.”

“Thank you, dear.” You mumbled unconsciously, punching yourself mentally as soon as you realized the endearment that you added naturally, allowing you to observe for a brief moment Vil’s startled expression, which soon turned into an amused smile.

“A nice appearance is all it takes to make you that bold? You surely are unpredictable sometimes, Prefect. Good luck on your classes then, dear.”

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[sttoru]

♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.

⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.

⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k

⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t

kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.

he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.

overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.

a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’

you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.

both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.

11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.

‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’

you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.

despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.

all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.

03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.

he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.

the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.

kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.

‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.

“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.

kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.

you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.

“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.

kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.

yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.

“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”

kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.

he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he

not that that would stop kento.

your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.

strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —

“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”

your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.

you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.

“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”

his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.

“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”

those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.

“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.

it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.

“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.

you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.

“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.

both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.

kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.

“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”

[hxt1b]

This request is really cliché I'm sorry 😭

Sukuna's friends made a bet to go hit on the reader and not soon after his arrogant ass starts to feel bad and of course reader would find out about the bed and angst this angst that

How would he solve the situation?

THANK U 💋

Right babe, I love this shit, cliche's exist for a reason!

"i miss you, i'm sorry" 

-> Sukuna x afab reader - Motocross AU, same world as "i knew the day i met you you'd be the one" (choso one shot). 

-> CW: Sukuna is not a soft man, he never will be - BUT he's desperate for you. Yuji and Sukuna hate each other. Smut Warning [grinding, nipple sucking, hair pulling, rough sex not a lot of foreplay - quickie really]  

-> WC: 2.4k

Masterlist | Prompt List

A/N: okay I started writing this and spiralled. I thought I would have finished this the day you sent in the request, but seeing as I got carried away it took long lol. Thank you for the request I had a lot of fun writing this! That being said idk if its the best written, but regardless I still hope you like it! 

Guilt was a passing emotion it always would be. Every emotion was passing. Especially for Sukuna, a month ago he'd felt terrible, then miserable, now he was at the end of his rope - desperate. this is the longest he felt something for someone. The strongest he's ever felt for someone. 

Your face flashed in his head, crumbling as your eyes filled with tears. 

"He's lying right?" You'd asked pointing at Yuuji. The motherfucker was standing to the left leaning against the door jam, his hands tucked into his pockets, an amused look passed over his features before he schooled them back into a sneer. Sukuna's hand itched to break the kid's nose again. 

"No." 

That was it. There wasn't anything else to explain, there still wasn't. But there was something to say, something he had to tell you. 

The bet was fleeting. Everything is fleeting. Especially for me. But you…. 

You weren't answering your phone. You had him blocked, and he couldn't understand. why wasn't this fucking passing and fleeting, why was the hurt and pain still they're stuck in his damned chest. 

Why were you standing with Yuji? Your hands crossed over your chest a painfully beautiful smile spread across your face as you laughed at something that Yuji said. 

Sukuna was leaning on his bike, his racing gear on. The black polyester stuck to him after his race. He'd beat Choso today, he should have been on a high. He hadn't just beat Choso, he'd beat everyone. Come in first place. But the elation that he'd feel for a good hour or two with a win like this was absent. It was won out by the anger and despair in his chest at having you so close but not looking at him. Not talking to him. Not touching him. 

Ditching his helmet on his bike, he decided he'd had enough of your silent treatment, he deserved it sure. But Sukuna never really cared about what he deserved, he cared about what he wanted. And what he wanted was you, your words, your anger, your tears, your smiles, your laughs, your skin on his, your mouth on his. You.  

He ignored everyone as he neared the group, he ignored anything they said or tried to say. He shoved passed Yuji, letting the kid stumble back into Choso, who caught his brother by the shoulder and glared at Sukuna, but didn't say anything. It probably had to do with the girl under Choso's arm. Sukuna's sister. 

None of that mattered right now though. Because Sukuna didn't fucking care. His eyes were geared on you and his hands already grabbing at your wrists. You tugged away and swore something, said something with an indigent tone. Sukuna didn't hear anything. He pulled you, holding your body close to his as he cut a path towards the towering building that hosted the plethora of shit that had to do with Motocross, including his dressing room. 

He shoved you into the room, locking the door behind him before charging across to you where you pushed yourself into the wall. 

"Sukuna," You started but he cut you off. Anything you had to say didn't matter. What mattered was that you understood that he was at his wits end with you, and that his emotions were bubbling over in a flurry of anger and lack of control and patience. 

"No." He said, just before he pressed a harsh kiss onto your lips, his mouth moving against yours coaxing you to move with him, to open your mouth to him. 

You gripped the front of his uniform and pushed him back. 

"Fuck you." You swore, your eyes alight with anger of your own. 

"You can," Sukuna replied and kissed you again. Again you pushed him back, this time shoving him harder forcing him to take a step back, you slipped out from his hold. 

Sukuna quickly spun around and grabbed you again, his arm lopping your waist, stopping you from leaving. 

"Listen to me." He tried again, his fingers circling into your top. 

"You're not talking. Besides I doubt you have anything to say." 

"It was a bet." He started and you snorted. Sukuna narrowed his eyes at your reaction, he expected it but it still bothered him. He turned his head into your hair and sought out your ear, quickly pulling the lobe into his mouth and nipping at the soft skin. 

You gasped, turned around and shoved him off of you. 

"It was a bet, but does it matter?" He asked, letting you take a step away from him. He didn't care to sound eloquent or soft. He just had to get it out. "Does it matter if by the end everything I said was true? I fucking meant it." 

"Why on earth would I believe you?" You asked. He didn't look away from you, his fingers flexed at his side. Everything was telling him to grab you and kiss you again. But he didn't. 

"Why would I lie now?" Sukuna asked. 

"Why wouldn't you?" You retaliated and turned away from him to leave. Sukuna's heart pounded in his chest as you walked out the door. He took a second but quickly followed you into the hall. His hands grabbed at you again pulling you back to him and then straight towards the wall. 

He crowded you, pushing his face towards yours so that his forehead was resting against yours. You scowled up at him, twisting to get out of his hold. 

"How can I prove it?" He asked, his voice filled with desperation. "Tell me. I'll do anything." 

"Nothing." You answered. He let out a large breath from his nose, a deep ache settling into his chest. 

"You're being difficult." He said, trying to keep his voice calm. 

You snorted, "fuck off Sukuna." 

"No." He kissed you again, you didn't kiss him back, not immediately, but he pressed into you tighter. the ridges of his body cutting into yours. Your head tilted up cradled in his hands delicately. His lips were light against yours, moving slowly asking you to move with him. Slowly you did, your hands curled around his wrists as you let him kiss you. As you kissed him back. 

He groaned against your mouth before pulling away from you. 

"Just listen to me." He said. You looked up at him, your eyes still showing your hesitation. "Please." The word was a breath, a soft plea. 

Sukuna never said please. You faltered, and let him pull you back into the dressing room. He let you go, and you walked over to the small couch and sat down. He closed the door and locked it before turning to you his hands tucked into his pockets to keep from reach out to you. 

"It was a bet, but it didn't stay a bet. You hang out with Yuji and Choso that's what prompted the bet anyway. it was hard to get you on that first date. Remember?" He paused, and you kept your eyes on him. "But it wasn't a bet when I took you on the second date, or the third or the fourth. Or when I kissed you, or when we had sex. Anything after asking you to go on that first date wasn't a bet anymore. Not to me." 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You asked. 

"No." 

"Okay." You got up again to leave. Sukuna watched you and didn't move from his spot. "I listened. Goodbye Sukuna," and you walked out. He didn't stop you this 

time. 

~

Sukuna watched you from across the room. You were talking to Megumi, your face burrowed in his phone as you giggled at whatever he showed you. 

Sukuna was a couple of drinks in and the booze was burning in his blood. He'd said what he could and you'd still walked away. He was angry. 

Angry that you walked away. Angry that Yuji told you. Angry he took the bet. Angry that you were laughing at something Megumi was saying, that your hand was holding his bicep. 

Somewhere in his head Sukuna was sure he shouldn't do what he was about to do. But he was drunk. He finished what he had in his cup in two large gulps and headed across the room. 

His hand gripped the nape of your neck as he came upon you. His eyes glared at Megumi as he pulled you into his chest. 

"No goodbye." He muttered and began to drag you down the hall, corralling you with his body. 

"Fuck Sukuna, you can't do this again." You argued. But he wasn't listening. He pushed you into a room and slammed the door with his foot keeping you in his hold. His free hand cradled your jaw and pulled your head towards his. His fingers dug into your cheeks as he lowered his head so that his nose was brushing yours. 

"You listened. Thanks. I didn't. fuck your goodbye." He said and kissed you before pushing you down onto the bed. You gasped quickly rising onto your hands to sit up but he was already pushing down onto you, his body pressing you into the mattress, his hands returning to your hair, his lips back on your skin. Pulling at your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. 

He sensed your anger but he didn't care. You were melting under him and maybe the weed you'd had earlier was helping that. He didn't care. 

"I messed up. But I refuse to mess up more and let you go." He muttered into your skin. "You're mine. Even if you think you're not. You are." 

You gasped again when he took your nipple into his mouth through your top. He moaned against you, his hips grinding into yours. 

"Your nipples were taunting me across the room." He muttered around your peaked bud, "You know how much I love your tits and you wore this shirt that I got you. Am I supposed to believe that's just coincidental?" He knew it wasn't. He was asking to taunt you. 

You ground your hips up into his finally rubbing back up into his hard-on. He groaned and the heat gathered in his spine he was consumed by you, his pull on your hair tilting your head up as he angled his hips to grind against yours. 

You were panting already, your skin heated under his. His cock was twitching with every shaky breath you took. He watched your face. Before letting go of your hair and sitting up on his heels. 

"Look at me." He prompted, and your eyes fluttered open, your heated gaze landed on him and for a second his heart stopped in his chest. 

"Be angry at me, be pissed, hate me. But do not for one second think that you're not mine. That at the end of the day, you don't end up under me. That you can leave. You are mine. Do you understand?" He kept his voice low and smooth as he spoke. His hands moved on your bare torso, pushing your top up so that your breasts were bare to him. 

"Wishful thinking." You muttered, the anger still in your words. "Just cause I'm letting myself do this with you today doesn't mean I forgive you. Or that I'm yours." 

Sukuna smiled down at you, your hips still moving against his hard cock, your cunt rubbing at him through your clothes. Sukuna gripped a tit, rubbing at the nipple with his thumb making your body shudder under his hand. 

"Oh babe, I think that's exactly what it means." He said and grabbed for your pants moving your legs up so that he could get them off, he took your panties with them. Once they were off he chucked them onto the floor, your legs fell open as he slotted himself between your thighs. 

His thumb dragged through your folds, stopping at your clit and pressing onto it. Your mouth fell open and your eyes stayed glued to his. He leaned over and let his other hand caress your face his thumb trailing your lip before settling at the corner of your mouth. 

"Fuck me." You breathed, taking his thumb into your mouth. Sukuna's chest flooded with heat as he watched your suck on his thumb. His hand left your heat and pushed at his pants taking his cock out and letting the cock head pass through your heated folds. 

"Condom." You breathed. Sukuna bit back a scowl, you hadn't used one before but he wouldn't push it tonight. He pulled away from you sitting back again as he pulled a condom from his pocket and put it on. 

He lined himself up with you again and slowly pushed in. Your loud moan vibrated around in his head forcing him to drop his head back as he sank into you. Grabbing your hips tightly as he did. 

Both of you said nothing as he began to rock into you, his cock stretching you with each deep and slow drag, your hands scrambled in the sheets as he gradually picked up his pace his eyes watching your tits bounce as he went at you harder and harder, until your eyes were rolled back and your breathing was stuttered with moans and whines. His name falling from your lips mixed with curses and pleads for him to touch your clit because he wasn't letting you do it yourself. 

He pulled out of you pulling you up into a sitting position before pulling you into his lap as he sat down against the head bored. You sank down on him again, your head rolling back as you moaned, Sukuna grabbed at your hair pulling your head back further. His mouth hot around your nipple as he pulled it back into his mouth. You rode him, grounding your hips with his pulling moans from him that meddled with yours. 

He conceded when you begged for him to touch you, his fingers drawing slow circles on your clit. He was getting close, the oppressive heat pushing at his body driving him to fuck up into you harder. Bite at your skin more aggressively. Dig his fingers into your skin until his fingers cramped. 

You came a second before him, your body writhing into his your hands gripping at his hair pulling. All this triggered his own release, he came in the condom with a groan. His hips still stuttered up into yours as he worked through his orgasm. You whined at the stimulation, your head resting against his, your soft moans pushing his orgasm out until he was spent and panting into your skin. 

"You're coming back with me." He said softly leaving no room for you to argue. You closed your eyes and settled against him for a second, not able to argue anyway. 

Send me a request! 

~hxt1b, feb 19 2024

[honnelander]

busgirl

once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.4k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help

masterlist

taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319

You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.

Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.

But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.

Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.

But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.

The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.

But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."

"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"

Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?

"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.

"Hold what off?"

He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"

"And you know I always will love you, right?"

"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."

His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."

You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.

Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."

You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.

Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."

A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.

"Y/n-"

"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.

"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."

"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"

"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."

Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.

You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"

But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.

"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."

Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.

But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.

You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.

The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.

Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.

"Y/n?"

"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."

If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.

Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."

"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.

Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."

Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.

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

Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.

The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.

What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.

But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?

If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?

As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.

With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.

"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"

But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.

"PLEASE! I beg you!"

As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.

"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."

"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.

The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."

"What?"

"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."

Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.

"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."

You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.

Shit. You had to hurry.

You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.

It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.

You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.

"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."

"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Please," you urged. "It's important."

The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.

His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"

As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.

What a day this was turning out to be.

You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."

"Anything I can help you with?"

What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.

"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."

The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"

You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.

The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."

"So you're a pirate chef?"

The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."

You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"

"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."

You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.

"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."

The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.

"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."

Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.

"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."

Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."

You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."

"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."

Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."

"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."

Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"

You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."

The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.

"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"

Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."

The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"

You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.

"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.

Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"

Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."

"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.

From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.

[littlejuicebox]

GINAAA MY GIRL!

Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.

How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.

To have and to hold.

Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!

Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.

A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.

Word count: 2.3K

-----

“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.

It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.

He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.

It’s horrible.

How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?

Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.

You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.

“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.

“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.

He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.

“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.

You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.

“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.

The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”

“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“

Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.

“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”

“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.

“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”

“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.

The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.

*

The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.

The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.

Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.

“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”

You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”

Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”

“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.

Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.

Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.

Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.

“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.

“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.

He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”

*

Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.

When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.

“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.

You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.

*

When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.

“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.

“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.

Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.

Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.

“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”

“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”

You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.

*

Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.

“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.

“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”

“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.

“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.

Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?

He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.

“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“

“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.

When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“

You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.

“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”

Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.

When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.

You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.

*

Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”

“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.

“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.

“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.

“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”

And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.

Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.

[solarmorrigan]

Hello! So I saw you were doing “angsty-ish prompts” and was wondering if you could do “you don’t have to stay” with Steve angst and the typical complex from his parents making him think he doesn’t deserve to be cared for. Or smth of the sort lol

If not that’s totally fine! Feel free to ignore

You want me to write about Steve's abandonment issues and insecurity?? Gosh, anon, twist my arm, why don't you. (But seriously, I loved writing this, thank you for the prompt! I'm afraid the "parents" part didn't quite make it in, but I hope this is okay, anyway!)

[Warning for vague mentions of sex? Nothing explicit]

-

This is the part Steve has been dreading.

He lies on his belly, arms folded beneath his head, and listens as Eddie’s breath evens out beside him. He knows that as soon as the effects of the exertion wear off, Eddie will have no reason to stay, and he’ll pick his clothes up off the floor, get dressed, and go.

Steve had known that’s what would follow if he slept with Eddie. He’d known that if he finally acted on the weeks upon weeks of flirting and dancing around each other, the only possible outcome would be Eddie walking away when they’d finished.

He’d known it would happen, and it was worth it, but that doesn’t mean he wants to watch.

Steve keeps his head firmly turned away as he hears Eddie sit up with a rustle of sheets. He tries to keep his body relaxed, his cheek pillowed on his arms – the picture of lazy disinterest. He doesn’t want to make Eddie feel guilty by appearing upset; Steve’s feelings aren’t his problem.

Instead of listening for the sounds of Eddie getting up and hunting for his clothes, Steve tries to focus on the signs that he’d been there. He concentrates on the residual burn in his thighs and the slightly over-stretched feeling in his hips, where Eddie had made space for himself (where Steve had gladly opened up for him); he concentrates on the ache in his wrists, where Eddie had gripped him tightly, somehow making Steve feel safe and held, rather than trapped; he concentrates on the slight sting of the bruising bitemarks Eddie’s left on his neck and chest (and belly and thighs and elsewhere, probably). He focuses on all the ways Eddie had worshipped and pleasured him before their time together was up.

He's focusing so hard, in fact, that he jumps at the feeling of lips pressing to his lower back.

Eddie lets out a low chuckle and kisses him again, just above his tailbone. “Alright?” he asks, the warmth of his breath raising goosebumps across Steve’s skin.

“Fine,” Steve says, twisting to look over his shoulder; Eddie has situated himself near Steve’s hip and is leaning over him, pressing slow kisses up the length of his spine. Steve suppresses a shiver. “Just… wasn’t expecting you.”

Eddie hums, fitting his fingers in the dip of Steve’s waist as his lips reach Steve’s shoulder. “Not ready to take my hands off you just yet,” he says, and – oh.

Steve hadn’t been expecting this, but he’s definitely willing to work with it.

“Looking for round two already?” he asks, letting a flirtatious lilt warm his voice.

But then Eddie shakes his head, and Steve’s confused all over again.

“Just want to be able to feel you,” Eddie says, before he nuzzles his way into the crook of Steve’s neck and heaves a contented sigh.

He runs his hands up from Steve’s waist, over his ribs, up to his armpits, and then slides them back down again, the drag of his touch just heavy enough to keep from tickling.

Finally, Eddie settles, lying half on top of Steve, chest to back, one leg crooked over the backs of his thighs, his arm cradling his ribs with his hand tucked between his chest and the mattress. His bangs tickle Steve’s cheek and his nose is pressed so firmly to his neck that Steve’s not even sure how he’s breathing, but he seems happy there, and Steve doesn’t know what to do.

People don’t do this – not with him. Usually, he’s the one who has to initiate cuddles, has to find a sort of sideways method of accomplishing it because he knows he’s not supposed to ask. It’s not something he’s allowed to want out loud.

This is the most skin-to-skin contact he’s had in ages. It’s the most he’s been touched in ages, and it’s so much; it feels so good it hurts, but–

Steve doesn’t understand why it’s happening. Eddie doesn’t want to have sex again, and Steve isn’t sure what else could be keeping here, and so, like an idiot, Steve just says what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“Mm?” Eddie rouses, pulling his face from the crook of Steve’s neck. “What?”

“You can go,” Steve says, before realizing that sounds a little too much like a dismissal. “If you want to, I mean.”

For a long moment, Eddie is quiet.

“What do you want?” he finally asks.

Steve can’t help the bitter huff of a laugh that escapes him. “What I want doesn’t matter,” he says; maybe it’s a childish sort of answer, but it’s been proven true, time and time again, and Steve is tired of asking for things—for affection, for love—only to be denied.

Eddie sits up, and the colds sets in immediately, every part of Steve that he’d been touching now crying out for him to come back.

“Of course it matters,” Eddie says, sounding nearly affronted, before his tone gentles. “Steve… sweetheart, can you look at me?”

Maybe it’s the pet name, or the hand resting softly in the middle of his back, but even though he’s not entirely sure he wants to, Steve rolls onto his side to face Eddie.

There’s something lost and sad in Eddie’s expression that makes Steve want to turn away again, but he stays where he is.

“Did you really think I would just leave after this?” Eddie asks, and Steve shrugs, the muscles of his shoulders screaming after being held folded beneath his head for so long. Eddie’s face twists into a frown. “Why?”

“That’s… how it works,” Steve says. “People don’t want to stay. And they don’t have to – you don’t have to. It’s fine, I understand.”

“No, baby, I don’t think you do,” Eddie says, and while Steve’s brain is still fuzzing to static over the second sweet name in as many minutes, Eddie slides back down to lie in front of Steve and presses a soft kiss to his unresisting mouth. “I want to stay.”

Steve stares at him. Blinks. Finds that Eddie is still there, still offering him a gentle version of his usual infectious grin, and Steve has no idea what to do.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I want to fall asleep with you,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I want to wake up with you.” A kiss to his other cheek. “I want to fuck you again in the morning.” A kiss to his chin. “Or we can just shower,” a kiss to his forehead, “and I’ll make you breakfast.” A kiss to the tip of his nose, and Steve finally breaks, letting out a short laugh.

“This is my house,” he says. “And you don’t even cook.”

“I’ll have you know I fry a mean egg, and I am a master at making toast,” Eddie says with a grin.

“What if I like my eggs scrambled?” Steve asks, a little more quietly.

Eddie’s smile softens again. “Then I’ll learn,” he says simply. “Do you want any of that, Steve?”

And somehow, in the small, warm space between them, it feels almost safe, almost easy to nod and say, “I want all of that. I want you to stay.”

The only reply he gets is Eddie’s arms wrapping around him, pulling him close, and Eddie’s warm, soft mouth against his; but for Steve, that’s answer enough.

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆☾ BALANCED - osamu miya

CW: usage of the petname 'baby' and 'pretty', fluff, maybe a bit of 'angst' if you wanna call it that lol, fem reader (she/her) Word Count: 1.4k

“when will you come by, samu?”

“soon, baby. within another hour, i'll be on my way, okay?” his tone was breathy, and y/n inferred he’d stepped away from a busy situation to answer her call. with the weekend approaching, his shop was bound to be bustling. “what’s wrong?” he asked. after hearing only silence from her end, his breathing slowed.

y/n hesitated before responding, “nothing, but okay, i’ll see you later.”

he sighed at her evasion but chose to let it be.

“baby, i'll be home before you know it. you should take a nap to pass the time. you sound tired anyway.”

y/n nodded despite his inability to see her, and when his name was called faintly in the background, she muttered a quick goodbye before ending the call.

with the line dropped, y/n turned off her phone and tossed it to the other side of the sofa. she was genuinely thrilled for her boyfriend’s burgeoning business, but his infrequent visits were beginning to weigh heavily on her.

she hadn’t realized how much time they used to spend together until it started dwindling. whether it was her busy schedule maintaining her grades or osamu's increasingly tight schedule, their communications, though frequent, were beginning to fail in filling the void. nothing could replace the comfort of physical presence, especially when it came to osamu.

she stood up and decided to heed his advice to take a nap. after all, what else was there to do? her friends were occupied with work or their own classes, she’d finished her studying for the day, and she had no errands left. all she truly craved was relaxation, but for that to be possible, she needed the presence of the person she loved beside her.

her phone vibrated in her hand, and she checked the message from her boyfriend.

samu 🩶 -> ‘i know this is terrible timing, pretty, but i might be getting home a bit later than planned. i need to pick up a few supplies for tomorrow. we’re running low.’

she couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes, blurring her vision. she wasn’t sure if her reply made sense, but she was beyond caring.

y/n -> ‘okay. be safe.’

she set her phone down on the nightstand and rested her head on her pillow. it had been a long, arduous week, and all she needed was him.

---

osamu hurriedly hung his hoodie by the door as he called out for y/n. her silence worried him. he had informed her of a late return, but the exact time had been unclear. he intended to be home three hours ago, but unforeseen circumstances had delayed him. he took steps up the stairs cautiously and gently pushed open the door.

there, y/n lay on their bed, her back turned to him. he called her name, and she stirred in her sleep, prompting him to sit on the edge of the bed. it was dim in the room, but he noticed the dampness of her pillow and her swollen eyes. his heart ached as he placed his palm against her cheek.

her eyes fluttered open, and they widened upon seeing his familiar face. she sat up as he settled on the bed, and she enveloped him in a tight hug.

“were you crying, baby?” he asked, wanting to pull away to see her face, but her embrace was firm, and honestly, he never wanted to leave it.

she mumbled a soft “no,” but the tremor in her voice revealed the truth.

“yeah, you were. look at your eyes…” he finally managed to view her features when she reluctantly released him. “i’m so sorry for being away for so long. why didn’t you tell me you were going through a rough patch?”

“you were busy with the shop and so happy that things were picking up. i’m happy for you too. so much,” she said, using the sleeves of her hoodie to wipe her tear-streaked cheeks.

“there’s a ‘but’ in there, isn’t there?” he asked, reaching for both of her wrists to gently pull them from her face.

“but,” she exhaled, meeting his gaze before looking down at her lap, “i don’t just want you to be here, i need you to be here. nothing is enjoyable without you anymore.” she frowned. osamu smiled and placed a tender kiss on the top of her head, then on her lips.

“i understand, baby. but listen to me.” his hand cupped her cheek, and she leaned into his warmth. “i will drop everything in a heartbeat if it’s you who needs me, okay?” he stated. she nodded and drew herself closer, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne. even the slightest trace of it brought her a sense of tranquility and comfort.

osamu wrapped his arms around y/n, holding her close. the weight of her words and the tears she had shed made him realize just how deeply his absence had impacted her.

“i’ve been so focused on making things work at the shop that i didn’t see how much you were struggling,” he admitted softly. “i promise i’ll make it up to you. we’ll find a way to balance this better.”

y/n nestled her head against his shoulder, her breathing slowly evening out. “i know you’re working hard, and i appreciate it. i just want to feel like i’m a part of your life, not just a contact on your phone.”

“of course you are,” osamu reassured her. “you’re my whole world. we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

he gently rocked her back and forth, his touch soothing her. after a few minutes, he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “how about we make some plans for the weekend? no work, no distractions, no studying.”

y/n’s eyes brightened at the idea, her sadness dissolving in the warmth of his gaze. “that sounds amazing, but time won’t stop just because we want to spend time together."

osamu smiled, his heart swelling with relief. he leaned in to kiss her forehead, then her lips again, as if to vow never to let her feel this way again. “you’re right, time won’t stop, but we can make every moment we have together count. let’s focus on the time we do get and make it special. we’ll find our balance, and until then, i promise to make the most of every second i can spend with you.”

as they settled back into their embrace, y/n felt a renewed sense of comfort. the weeks ahead might still be busy, but knowing osamu was committed to making time for her eased her worries.

with osamu by her side, y/n drifted off to sleep, feeling more at peace than she had in days.

“i’ll make sure we always have these moments. you mean everything to me, baby.”

this was written for a certain someone lmaooo

ty for reading! leave a like to show support :D

tag: @lifesucksweswallow & @powpowboom

[svltzmans]

casual - cassie howard

cassie howard x fem! reader

a/n: like every other lesbian, i've been listening to a lot of chappell roan and this song seems like a perfect prompt for my first time writing angst 😵 it's not really great so i just made it a one shot and definitely did not proofread lol

warnings: 18+ smut, angst with no happy ending 😬 but i'll go back to happy stuff soon i promise!

y/n's nails dig into the leather of cassie's car, her body sprawled across the passenger seat.

cassie pushes y/n's legs further apart, her head remaining buried between them.

her tongue circles y/n's clit, leaving her lightheaded above her. y/n's nails really start leaving marks behind on the seat, but she can't find it within her to care.

"just like that, cass," y/n mewls, her body instinctively pulling towards cassie.

cassie had quickly discovered that y/n was intoxicating to her, the countless times they had hooked up only adding to her desires.

y/n's orgasm finally hits her, her hands reaching up to the windows to brace herself.

cassie pulls away, wiping her mouth on her shirt with a smirk.

"you're amazing," y/n mutters, still catching her breath.

cassie smiles slightly before preparing to start the car.

"can't you hang out with me for a little?" y/n asks, disappointed seeing cassie prepare to take her home.

"maddy invited me out," cassie justifies, reaching for the door handle.

"why do you always leave?"

the sadness in y/n's voice creates a thick silence in the car. cassie stops moving, staring blankly forward.

"y/n, you know this is just... for fun, right?"

"what the hell are you talking about?"

cassie sighs, running her fingers through her hair. she finally looks at y/n, ditching her avoidance of eye contact.

"we can't, like, date," cassie manages to blurt. "doing this with you is fun, but you know i can't do a relationship right now."

"that certainly isn't what you've been implying."

"y/n... i'm not trying to be an asshole. but i've never implied we were going to date. or that we were anything more than friends."

y/n inhales sharply, trying to keep herself composed. she's hurt, and she feels it in every inch of her body.

"i spent the summer with you, at your family's house. your mom cooked dinner for me and told me stories about you as a child. lexi and i became friends. we've kissed in front of them, cass. what do they think we are? what does maddy think we are? she's seen how inseperable we have been this whole time."

cassie sighs, looking away from y/n again. her expression is somewhat cold as tears start to gently flow down y/n's cheeks.

"i told them it's been... casual. they know we've just been hanging out."

"hanging out?" y/n raises her voice slightly, her outrage becoming more and more apparent.

"cassie, this whole time you have been acting like someone who has genuine feelings. genuine interest. you never told me you wanted any of this to be casual. if you did, i wouldn't be here right now."

"what do you mean you wouldn't-"

"i would have protected myself."

cassie is taken aback by that, shuffling restlessly in her seat. "you don't have to protect yourself from me, y/n."

"no, i do, because i've been falling for you and it all has meant nothing to you."

"y/n, that's not true-"

before cassie can finish her sentence, y/n is gathering her belongings, exasperated.

she pulls the door open, hesitating as if she was waiting for cassie to speak.

when she doesn't, y/n steps out of the car, roughly shutting the door behind her.

[cathrrrine]

Perfect / Love Won’t Die

Dominick “Sonny” Carisi x Reader • Law and Order SVU • Domestic Fluff, AFAB!Reader

Summary: Sonny happily holds the bouquet of flowers he bought for his girlfriend only for her to open the door and start crying. He immediately panics, but soon finds himself amused when she reveals the true reason for her tears. AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my SVU imagines, but I had to with this one :) Happy 2024! My resolution is to post more of my work so I’m digging through all my drafts and posting them lol. Enjoy husband material Carisi <3

In all the six months you had been dating Sonny, there were never many problems that couldn’t be resolved with a simple conversation or a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As far as Sonny was concerned, it was the perfect relationship. He had gotten to know all your little habits; likes and dislikes, pet peeves, niche obsessions. Six months wasn’t exactly a super long time but it wasn’t short either. After only half a year of dating each other, he’d confidently testify that he had fallen in love with you deeply, enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. He was happy to get married, have babies, grow old together…the whole shebang.

Things were going steady with you. He couldn’t imagine himself being with anybody else, and he was over the moon to know that you felt the samw way. Long late-night conversations about the future the two of you dreamed of revealed that you wanted him to be a part of it as much as he wanted you. Sure, Sonny was aware of how much of a (hopeless) romantic he could be sometimes, but that was in the past, and all of those relationships weren’t with the right people. His sisters had been talking his ear off ever since high school, warning him about women that would only break his heart. It made him wince just to think about all the red flags they ticked off angrily; gold-diggers, manipulators, emotionally unstable women, emotionally unavailable women…and the likes of it. That and their own broken-heart experiences that prompted very fuelled lectures of examples of men Sonny shouldn’t follow always rang in his mind, even until now.

He’d also been made well aware of how right they were about his exes with a bunch of ‘I told you so’s’ and narrowed eyes, but those relationships were in the past and he was much, much younger (and dumber) than he is now. He only had a couple of serious relationships in his adulthood, which ended up not being the right fit for either parties. Then, his love life got buried under the heavy, heavy load of police work and law school and he never found the time to make himself available in the dating pool. He was always too tired, too beat, too mentally drained. It was never a priority.

Then everything came to a stop and his whole world wouldn’t do anything but revolve around you. Sonny was smitten, like a lovesick puppy who got shot by cupid’s nuclear-powered bazooka as fate would have it.

He never felt this way about anyone in his life before, it was a feeling he relished in and was adamant on not letting go.

You were perfect.

Obviously, you had your flaws, but all only human, none of them fatal. Like how you had a habit of ordering too much food but he ends up being the one to finish it up when you realised your eyes had been bigger than your appetite — but he didn’t mind that at all, in fact he secretly loved being able to feast like a King — or how sometimes, you would arrive 10 minutes late to your dates on one of your busiest weeks, which he never complained about because he had his fair share of being unpunctual as well. Plus, you always made it up to him one way or another.

You were absolutely perfect, inside and out. Sonny thanked God everyday for sending a woman as smart, beautiful and kind as you his way. He’s never felt so lucky.

Sonny knew and loved everything about you, down to your weirdest quirks. If there was a Jeopardy! game where the topic was You, he’d be waving around his trophy like a mad man. What you didn’t tell him, he learned. It was the same way you got to know him. The two of you were always honest with each other, trust being the pillar of your relationship, it was why you got along so well. You knew how to make him happy, as he did for you.

So, why is it that you were crying as he handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers as soon as you opened the door to your apartment?

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His sweet smile dropped to a concerned frown, uncomfortable and nervous at your sudden reaction.

There you were in front of him, dressed in your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants and an oversized tee that he was sure once belonged to him, messy hair up that he found extremely adorable. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that…well, you were crying.

He always brought you flowers. Was he late? He glanced at the clock on your wall. No…was it something he said? Something he did? Something…he totally forgot about?

“Nothing- no, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You sniffed, hugging the fresh bouquet close to your chest, dipping your nose into the floral fragrance to smell it only to find that the tears had triggered an onslaught of snot. That only made you cry more.

The bubble of nerves in Sonny’s chest was bursting at this point, he was almost worried he was having a heart attack. “Doll, you’re crying, something’s wrong.”

He held out an arm to pull you into a hug and you eagerly sunk into his embrace. You buried your face into the fabric of his suit jacket, breathing in what you could of his faded perfume. His calloused hands stroked your hair, softly caressing your head as he cradled it. He gently peeled you off of him to get a better look of your face, now red and eyes puffy from sobbing.

He held your cheeks between his palms and you pouted, looking up at him with sad doe-like eyes, and if that didn’t break his heart that he must not have one because the look on your face was shattering him in every possible way right now. One of his thumbs swiped a fresh tear off your cheek, he felt you nuzzle into his hand.

The tall blond gently led you to your couch and set the flowers down on the coffee table before cuddling up with you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him desperately, wanting nothing more than to be absolutely engulfed by everything Sonny — scent, skin and biceps.

“You’re killing me sweetheart, you gotta tell me what’s gotten you all upset like this.” You felt him kiss the top of your head and love bloomed in your chest immediately. “Come on, doll, what’s up?”

You sighed, big and loud, huffing away all the choked up tears with one big breath. “I swear it’s nothing. I’m so stupid.”

He was quiet for a while until you felt his voice vibrate from his chest again, “Was it…me? Did I do something wrong?”

You whipped your head to look at him, only to be greeted with a very worried expression.

Oh, Sonny. Oh, sweet heavenly innocent Sonny. How could you not love this man with every fibre of your being when he’s got that look in his eyes? The one where his pupils are so dilated, you could see your reflection in his big, blue puppy eyes.

How could you have been so careless?! Of course he’d think you were crying because of him, the sweet stupid man — God, you loved him so much. The thought only made you more emotional…and just like that the waterworks came rushing back in.

“Oh, God, Sonny-“ you hiccuped, pulling yourself away from him to put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry- it’s not your fault at all,”

The lovesick, worried-sick man shot up next to you to pull you into his arms once again, stomach churning at the wave of emotions you were going through. He couldn’t even detective his way through this, his mind going haywire with every sniff that came from you.

“Then what is it?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, “Did something happen at work? Is it that asshole again?”

With what he dealt with at his job, it wasn’t out of the question for his mind to be going down that dark path, but he shoved his anger and panic down to focus on your well-being, remaining rational until you were calm.

That made you shoot up to look at him again, words tumbling out of your mouth hurriedly to curb his worries. “No, no! I’m okay, I’m absolutely fine, Todd — that ass — didn’t do anything to me, I promise you, I swear to God. And it’s not you, it’s not anything even remotely related to anything sane at all. I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up over a bunch of random things, it’s just so—“

“Doll.” Your boyfriend’s voice pulled you out of your rambling. The loving concern that radiated off of him was enough to bring you back to your senses. Gently, he asked again. “What is it?”

You melted immediately, both embarrassed and exhausted from all the sobbing you had been doing. “I’m on my period.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I know, I’m not usually this emotionally affected but my hormones are all over the place and my TV decided to autoplay The Notebook, now I’m a mess.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have seen me like this, much less deal with me.”

It was only then that the detective noticed the TV screen, paused on Ryan Gosling’s frowning face.

He tried to stifle his amusement, but it came out in a fit of giggles, much to your dismay.

“It’s not funny.” You pouted.

“I just— I thought—“ His laughter consumed him, shoulders shaking as he held up his palms to his face and ran his fingers through his hair, uncaring of how it would mess it up. Sonny leaned back into the couch and continued to laugh with his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it came out like a squeak, ashamed of how you cried like a baby in front of him. Although the two of you spent plenty times over at each other’s places and hanging out with each other, over the six months he knew you, you never had your hormones hit you this hard. It wasn’t uncommon to you, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence either, and it certainly wasn’t an event Sonny had the pleasure of experiencing…until today.

“It’s okay if you’d prefer to be at your own place right now, I totally get it. I won’t be offended in the least, okay? I’ll call you in the morning.” Some men in the past have been weirded out when this happened to you, so you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be offended — it was ‘your fault’ anyway, that was what you had grown accustomed to.

But Sonny, the ever-loving and understanding guy, did not share the same view. Of course not! Raised-with-sisters, loves-his-mother, thoroughly Italian, good-Catholic-man-who-respects-women Sonny, would never in a million years ever even think about being upset with you just because your period messed with your emotions. And that’s why you weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he responded to your offer with a kiss.

This was Sonny. He would never think lowly of you because of something you couldn’t control.

“That’s crazy talk, doll.” He mumbled into the kiss, smiling as he continued to love on your lips. “I’d never leave you alone like this.”

You pulled away a bit to properly look at his face, “Really?”

This was the man your heart belonged to. You don’t know how you didn’t explode when he gave you the most charming smile that ever graced his lips.

“Really.”

Everything you were worried about solved itself into place, like sentient puzzle pieces figuring themselves out with confidence.

“You’re too good for me.”

Unabashedly, you continued to make out with your boyfriend on your couch, a newfound appreciation driving you mad with love.

“I’m only for you, babe. Don’t need anyone or anything else but you.”

———

Now that the two of you were freshened up and settled down with mugs of hot cocoa in your hands, you and Sonny were much more at ease.

There was nothing better to Sonny than to be cuddled up with his girlfriend with her head laying on his chest. You practically clung to the arm draped over your shoulder, making a nest out of his bicep for your face — which reminded him of a koala bear, but he kept that thought to himself. He was so comfortable, so happy that this was his life. His nose pressed against your hair, the scent of your shampoo reminding him of a holiday well-spent together in Mexico. Deja Vu hit him the minute he kissed your head, laughing through his nose when he remembered the events that happened just a few hours prior.

“Hey,” he nudged you with the arm you were glued to. You pulled your focus from the movie you were watching — a comedy, nothing that would make the ‘bloody demon hormones possess me’ as you put it — and raised your eyebrows curiously in response. “I’m just wonderin’…”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you cry when I gave you the flowers?”

You groaned, still somewhat embarrassed at the flurry of emotions you attacked the innocent man with. But you humoured the question anyway, “I opened the door and you were standing there, so handsome and so sickeningly charming, holding up flowers that you brought for me. You should be worried if I didn’t cry.”

“Wow,” he whistled. “I’m really that handsome, huh?”

You playfully hit him in the chest with your fist as you resumed your initial position, “Shut up.” A smirk managed to rip it’s way through your lips. “But mostly, I was crying because I was so sad that the flowers were going to die. I don’t know, just weird how my brain works on my period.”

It was a nonchalant mention, nothing big to you, but it stuck to his mind. Flowers dying made you upset. How precious was that? He catalogued the thought, filing it away for the future. The inkling of humour tempted him, though.

“So, not so much on the handsome part?”

You snorted, “Eh, I’ll give it a 60/40.”

“It should be in the news or something. ‘Guy So Handsome, Makes A Grown Woman Cry’” he gestured in the air as if there was a banner.

“How about, ‘Girl So Hormonal, Makes A Grown Man Cry With Her’?”

“Psh, I didn’t cry.”

“You so were.”

“Was not.”

You laughed, thinking he’d given it up when the sound of the movie began to fade into your hearing again.

“You should come over the precinct, tell the guys how I can make the ladies cry just by showing up at their door.”

He wore that goofy, toothy grin you were so accustomed to whenever he was joking around.

You rolled your eyes. Then decided to mess with him. “Excuse me? Ladies? Plural?”

The grin immediately wiped off of his face. “No- I meant lady, as in singular.”

“Mhmm.”

“I mean— no, that’s not what—“

“Sure, Son.” The monotonous voice you used made him sweat.

“You know you’re the only gal for me! I was just joking…hey, baby, come on, look at me…”

———

Months passed by and relationship milestones came and went. You finally met his family on month eight, and him yours. Month ten, you got a promotion at work and thankfully — not by your doing — Todd left the company. Sonny and the rest of the SVU team made a breakthrough on a case, you met his coworkers you heard so much about for the first time when he brought you along for their celebratory dinner. He was teased relentlessly for ‘keeping such a wonderful woman from us all this time’. You enjoyed the camaraderie that they shared with each other, and felt like you won a prize when they extended it to you.

Time passed by you so fast that you barely noticed it was almost a full year since you and Sonny made it official.

The day of your anniversary, he made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant — Italian, of course. You reminisced the journey of your relationship together over some fine dining and a delightful bottle of wine. The ambiance, mixed with the light-headed feeling from one too many glasses of wine, only made the love you had for Sonny so much more emphasised. It was a dream, to be loved by such an amazing man, to have found your soulmate. If you weren’t at such busy points of your career, you’d literally have his babies right then and there. A couple of mini Sonny’s would do the world good, you pondered. Unbeknownst to you, the subject of your thoughts was thinking the exact same thing, only he was dreaming up a babble of mini You’s instead.

Sonny and you walked home together — he had basically moved into your apartment by now, he was finding it harder and harder to be separated from you at night. Having you next to him made him sleep better, and just generally being around you made him feel better — the two of you never made his move-in an official thing, but there was no need to. It was almost like you shared a telepathic connection. Although, Sonny being Sonny, will make the moving in an official thing whether you needed to or not. Maybe into an actual house, with a backyard and a huge kitchen and a family to raise in to make it a home. One day. Maybe even tomorrow. He’d do anything, anytime with you.

“Got you something, by the way.” He grinned, keys jangling on the doorknob as he swung it open for you.

“Sonny, you didn’t have to.” You blushed. One year together and he still had that effect on you.

“Well, I wanted to.”

While you were taking off your shoes, he used it as a distraction to take it out of the hiding spot he so carefully planned — his height being an advantage to said plan — and waddled over in his socks to where you were sitting on the couch, handing it to you once he was sat as well.

It was a daintily patterned gift bag, not too big and not too small either, with a card attached to it on the front. You carefully removed it to read his words in neat handwriting.

Happy 1 year anniversary, doll. I love you so much. You make me the luckiest man alive. My love for you will never die.

You wanted to cry, so touched by his short but undeniably sweet words. He saw how your bottom lip jutted out, the way it usually did when emotions got the best of you, and smiled to himself with a bit of pride in getting his words right.

Slowly, you pried the top of the bag open, only discovering a plastic dome. “Careful.” Your boyfriend noted.

You wondered what it was, going over all the possibilities in your head as you took it out of the bag; lava lamp, necklace, tiny bottle, lantern…only to gasp when you saw what it really was inside.

A small sphere-shaped cactus with a crown of pink flowers, placed inside a white ceramic pot with the words, ‘My love for you will never die’ engraved in cursive writing around it.

Ahhhh, here come the waterworks.

“Sonny,” your eyebrows scrunched up, lips fully pouting now. “This is the sweetest fucking gift ever.”

Your use of words didn’t go unnoticed by the smiling man, earning you a chuckle out of him. “I remember the time you cried when I brought you flowers, and you told me it was because you were sad ‘bout them dying…it’s cheesy, I know. Corny, a bit. But I thought you’d like it.”

The rising inflection of his voice gave away his nerves, but you were quick to make your appreciation known. “I do, I do! It’s just the most beautiful and thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, baby. I’m- Aw…“

You choked up and he took that as his cue to pull you into his arms, careful to set the prickly plant down so you wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

“It’s true though, my love will never die. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me.”

“You know I’m shit at keeping plants alive, Son!” You couldn’t help the wavering in your voice, “Oh, but this is just so, so sweet. You’re just too cute for your own good.”

“Well, I was cute enough for you to accept the babbling guy who asked you out a year ago.” The giggling that followed made his blue eyes seem brighter.

“Yeah, I couldn’t say no to that face.”

You took the comfortable silence that ensued as a segue to your own offering to him, “Speaking of this cactus being put at the risk of dying, I’m gonna have to appoint someone to remind me it needs water every now and then.”

“I’m assuming that would be me?”

“Yup.” You shifted around to look through your purse. “So, I was thinking…”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at you, “Thinking…?”

You held out your palm and reached out for his, dropping a familiar weight into his hands. As soon as you pulled your hands away, the object revealed itself to be a single silver key with a brown leather strap keychain attached to the ring, ‘Det. Carisi’ engraved on one side and ‘Sonny’ on the other.

He looked up at you, meeting eager eyes that matched his own. You were practically bouncing with giddiness, excited to reach yet another milestone.

“Move in with me? Officially?”

God, you were so perfect.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[seungfl0wer]

hey may i request hyunjin smut with a mix from prompts list 1: with numbers 1, 3 and 30 please?

-

“You’re driving me crazy”

Parings: Hyunjin x Reader (GN)

Genre: Pure Smut

Warnings: Riding, Creampie, Gender Neutral (Reader is called beautiful/gorgeous), biting/hickeys. I think that’s all. No proof reading as always lol

-These are prompts from my first list you can find here. I also have a second one you can find here. Prompts: 1) “You’re driving me crazy” 3) “let me help you with that” and 30) “Sit”

Thank you so much for requesting I knew I could either go dom with these or the other way. But this scenario just kinda popped in my head so I went with it lol. I hope you enjoy 🩵🩵

-🩵

Earlier in the day your boyfriend and you had gotten into an argument. It was over something dumb however you apologized for getting upset and lashing out. He did not. Neither of you have said much since then, your small apartment quiet but the air was thick with tension.

You sat there trying to think of what to do, you had to start dinner soon but you had gotten a devilish idea. If he didn’t wanna apologize you were gonna make him beg for forgiveness. You strolled to your room and rummaged through your clothes. Finding the perfect outfit to put on. You remembered how much Hyun liked you in his clothes, So you picked one of his long shirts. It came down passed your butt enough to no show much but just show enough he could see. You thought about not putting any panties on but there was a pair he bought for you he loved.

You stood looking at yourself in the mirror his long white shirt draped over your beautiful figure. The blue pair of sheer panties with cute little lace at the top and to top it all off you put on some knee high socks. If this wasn’t gonna drive him mad you didn’t know what else could. You strolled your way back to the kitchen and started to make dinner.

As you were chopping the veggies up Hyun made his way into the kitchen. He stopped quickly his eyes locked on you. His stunning partner, he could feel his cock twitch just at the sight of you. You turned not even saying anything to him grabbing for a bowl that was placed way too high on the shelf. You grabbed a chair to climb up and get it “let me help you with that” he said his spit caught in his throat as he saw your full outfit now.

His eyes widen as he noticed the peak of the pretty blue fabric, the knee highs that hugged your legs so nicely all wrapped together with his shirt. He was in almost shock at how gorgeous you looked.

You grabbed the bowl down, jumping off the chair “thanks for offering but I got it” you said not even making eye contact with him. He nodded slowly as he watched your every move. “Fuck were you so hot” he thought to himself. He was so horny just from the mere sight of you, but he knew you were still upset with him. He could feel it, in the way you didn’t even look at him.

“Babe you’re looking beautiful” he said with a soft smile at you trying to see your reaction. You just nod with a small thank you. “Oh yeah you were still mad” he thought to himself.

He sat there watching you as you finished dinner, he offered to help but you just shot him down each time. You sat across from each other as you both started eating. Hyun picked at his plate a bit still just eying you up. You could feel his eyes undressing you as you ate, made you smile a bit feeling a bit smug at how you have him. Since he was staring so contently you relaxed your body and spread your legs apart. Giving him full view of those blue panties. Those blue panties that he of course loved but would love even more if they were off.

He gulped a bit, bitting the bottom of his lip as all he wanted was to crawl under this table and kiss every inch of you. The thought of this must have gotten to him as his hand moved on its own. He was palming himself through his sweats he let out the soften moan. Trying to choke it back not wanting you to hear he was so desperate for you.

You had the most smug smile on your face knowing your plan had worked. You made your way to put the dishes into the sink before you could turn around you felt hyunjin’s hands wrap around your body. The feeling of his rock hard cock pressed knowing you did that just from how hot you were made your holes ache. Hyunjin didn’t say a word his hands wondered your body cock nestled perfectly between your ass cheeks. His hips softly started to move he let out such sweet moans at the feeling.

“Y/n please you’re driving me crazy, I need you” he said in the most desperate voice you’ve ever heard from him. You turned your body around to him face to face with him now. His beautiful eyes started back at you, they pleaded wanting nothing more than you.

“You know you never apologized to me Hyun so why should I?” You hissed. He tilted his head looking at you “if I say sorry now though it’ll seem like I’m just saying it, how about I show you how sorry I am my love?” He said before diving to your neck kissing it softly before looking back up you “let me fix it.” He said before pulling you to the living room.

He kissed you ever so lovingly as he sat down on the couch pulling you on top of him. Your body shuttered at the feeling of his cock, you could feel yourself becoming soaked. His kisses slowly moved to your neck as his hands wondered your body. Your body reacted to his touch moving against his throbbing bulge. He left out low groans against your neck as he started to suck harshly at your skin.

He left sweet little marks across your neck his hands now at your hips as you moved them mindlessly. “Baby stand up for a second” he cooed at you. You nodded as you did what he asked “can you take this cute little panties off for me?” He asked sweetly and of course you obliged. As you did so he was taking off his pants and underwear. He licked his lips at the sight of how wet you have become just from grinding on him.

You moved his cock so it was standing straight up “Sit” he said “let me make my baby feel good.” The sight before you was so hot, your boyfriend’s hard cock just waiting for you to take it all in to fill you to the brim. You nodded getting on top of him he teased his head at your entrance. Rubbing it up and down before you sank right down onto it. You both let out a strew of moans and cuss words as the feeling was over the top.

Hyunjin pulled you into a deep passionate kiss before he moved his hips. He loved nothing more than having you on top of him like this. To be able to kiss you, to hear those moans and to be able to see the effect his cock had on you. And the effect it did. Your body clenched around him taking everything in and still wanting more. He fucked harshly up into you, like a rabbit in mating season.

You could feel his cock twitching inside of you he was so close and so were you. He had quickened his pace the room filling with the sounds of him pounding into you. He buried his face into your neck as he bit snd sucked the area. You moaned out his name as your high quickly snuck up on you “Hyun- I’m gonna- gonna cum” you almost screamed.

He nodded his head “me too” he whined out it sounded so hot almost like he’s being holding back from cuming so you both could cum together. He moved himself a bit hitting deep into you reaching your spot that he knew would drive you over the edge. Your body was almost shaking as you came on his cock. His high quickly came after releasing his hot cum deep inside your walls.

You both were panting his body clung to you as your rested against his. As you both were slowly catching your breath he lets out a soft chuckle “was that considered make up sex? Cause if so we should argue more often” he joked lending playful smack to his arms in return.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[lynnie-ee]

Day 6; Intimidation.

╰┈➤"Being stared at by one of the Leech Twins could scare anyone at Night Raven College, even you, especially if there's no apparent reason behind it. Jade, on the other hand, believes his plan to hint his feelings for you is working greatly."

╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1.4k words.

╰► Character: Jade Leech.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

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Jade Leech has got his eyes on you for two weeks now.

At first, it only happened when you were in the hallways, but you didn't think much of it because, there were a lot of students, why would he be looking at you?

Then it was at the cafeteria when you were surrounded by your first-year friends, but that meant nothing because they were pretty loud, there were a lot of reasons why he could be staring.

But then it happened at the library when it was just Grim and you, which was weird, but perhaps he was looking at your little friend, maybe finding ways to blackmail him into working at Mostro Lounge again.

You've made a lot of excuses about it, thinking that it'd be narcissistic to believe he was solely staring at you, but now, as you are seated at one of the few benches that were around the Botanical Garden, with Jade only a few meters away, you could feel his gaze piercing you.

And it was fucking scary.

He worked casually on some annotations as he looked at a few mushrooms in the area, which made you wonder how seemed to be deeply focused on it while still managing to feel like he was staring at your soul.

'I was just looking for a peaceful place to study, Great Seven.'

You sighed, already tired of such attention upon you, which only fuelled the frustration you already felt due to that damn alchemy assignment you couldn't do properly.

Once again doing the assignment incorrectly, you turned towards where your pencil case was lying, looking for an eraser.

"You did the third step wrongly."

The voice of vicehousewarden echoed through the garden, as you lifted your face to observe him, realising he was staring at the mushrooms instead of you, making you wonder how he was even able to see your notebook from so far.

“Thank you, I’ll correct it when I get back to my dorm.” You answered trying to be polite, an awkward smile on your expression, as you grabbed your pencil case to start packing up your things, instead of just grabbing the eraser. You had enough of that psychological torture already.

“A pity that you’re leaving so soon, Prefect.” He commented as you got up from your seat.

“Yeah, I’ve to run some errands today. Goodbye, Jade.”

“Goodbye, good luck with your errands.” The vicehousewarden spoke with his usual mischievous smile, as if he knew you’d go home straight away after leaving the Botanical Garden, away from his prying eyes.

What the hell was wrong with him…?

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You wished that was the last time you were under the petrifying gaze of Jade Leech, but as usual for your luck, it wasn’t. In fact, you already had started to get used to it. This was Night Raven College, having a second-year student stare at you like a predator to his prey probably wasn’t even on your top five of the strangest things you’ve gone through ever since you arrived.

"Do you think Trein's going to put the class of this week into the next test?" Deuce questioned, as you walked along him, Ace walking behind with Grim. All of the classes of the day were already finished, and Deuce offered his room to finish one of the group homework that Crewel assigned last week.

"I think he said he would." Ace answered, balancing Grim on one of his shoulders.

"You both talk like you'll study for the test, how cute." You commented, chuckling softly, your laugh stopping immediately as out of nowhere, Jade appeared in front of you.

"Prefect, it's nice to see you." The vicehousewarden greeted, ignoring the panicked expression of the Heartslabyul first-years beside you. "I was wondering if you'd come to Mostro Lounge tomorrow, after class." He questioned politely.

"Tomorrow...? At Mostro Lounge?" The question escaped your lips, as your mind wondered what he could want from you.

"Yes, that's what I said." He reassured, his smile more insistent than usual.

"Yeah, sure..." You answered, mostly out of uneasiness, considering how widely known was around the school about the terrors of those who made the Leech Twins get annoyed.

"Wonderful, I'll wait for you, please be punctual." The second-year remarked, before turning around to continue his walk.

...

"Prefect, did you get into a deal with Azul?!"

"What the hell did you do wrong?! Messing with Octavinelle is awful, man...You're probably working at Mostro Lounge for at least 2 months."

"But I didn't do anything!" You excused yourself immediately.

"You didn't...? Then why did Jade ask you to go to Mostro Lounge?"

"I've got no idea..." You mumbled, sighing in exasperation. First the stares, and now this...

"Maybe you did something without noticing." Deuce suggested with a nervous tone.

"If that's the case, you're screwed, Prefect. Good luck with that, we'll visit you at your shifts at Mostro Lounge."

"Thanks for the support, boys." You commented sarcastically.

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This was it, the moment of truth.

You walked through the doors of Mostro Lounge, your expression as confident as you could, even if you were behind scared. You wondered all day what exactly you did to be stalked by Jade Leech and then asked to come to his dorm, because there surely was an explanation for it. Still, when it came to Octavinelle's vicehousewarden, you knew it was safer to wonder rather than be involved with him.

"You arrived perfectly on time." Was the first comment from the second-year student as soon as they arrived. "Please follow me." He indicated the way towards a more secluded room of the Mostro Lounge, which you followed without complaint. You were already there, might as well you could try your best not to bother him.

As he stood in front of you, you wondered once again why could he ask you to come talk to him, perhaps it was Grim who got into a problem, maybe he wanted to blackmail you, or he even could want to persuade you into making a deal with-

"I asked you to come because I had a question for you, so I apologize if it was inconvenient for you at all." He started, your body getting stiff, as if getting ready for a fight. "I was wondering if you perhaps wanted to go on a hike with me this weekend?"

...

"A hike, you say?" You asked, startled, as he nodded. "You mean, just the two of us?" That was bad, wasn't it? What if he wanted to take you to a lonely place to make you disappear or something of the sort?

"Yes, just the two of us." He replied. "Or at least, that was what the book suggested-"

"What book?" You questioned, confused.

"Ah, just a book I read about human custom. It said humans usually liked dates on open spaces, or where they could do activities outdoors. Perhaps you aren't the kind of person that likes them? I could come up with other kinds of ideas indoors, if you'd like." The vicehousewarden explained, his voice steady as usual.

'Did he say date...?'

"No, I do like being outside and all of that, it's just that...You asked me to come here to ask me out?"

"Yes. My previous plans didn't seem to be working, so I figured it'd be best to approach you directly."

"What previous plans?"

"Well, the book explained that humans usually express interest through eye contact, is that correct?" The second-year questioned with a genuine expression that almost seemed adorable.

"Eye-contact...? Well, uhm..." You mumbled, wondering when you ever made eye contact with Jade at all. Wait. "You mean, like the times when you stared at me in class?"

"Indeed, was it effective?"

"It certainly caught my attention, for sure..." You mumbled, relieved to learn that his intentions seemed to be way less dangerous than you thought at first.

"I'm glad to hear that. Then, would you like to join me for a hike?"

You considered his words for a second, wondering whether it'd be a good idea or not. But after so much time being chased by his gaze, and so many hours thinking about the reason behind it, you considered a date wouldn't hurt, wouldn't it? He had perseverance, at least.

"I'd love to join you, Jade."

"I'm glad to hear that." He chuckled softly, surprising you with how cute he actually looked when he didn't stalk you through school hours.

"Jade."

"Yes?"

"From now on, if you want to learn about human customs, just ask me, okay?"

"In that case, I'll be more than pleased to be your student, Prefect." He replied, the small smile still on his face as he looked at you with his mismatched eyes.

Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind being the one staring at him now.

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