#couldn't muster a explanation for it

[lizardsfromspace]

Still baffled by that scene in Picard where they look at a necklace that's just two interlocking circles and go "this can ONLY be the symbol for this one obscure way of making androids!" Just straight-faced-ily insisting the most generic necklace design imaginable is very unique. Did the writer want something more unique & end up with that or was that always the dream, what happened there

[flwrstqr]

𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU PULL THEIR TIE ˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 689 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, slightly suggestive ┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ im addicted to writing ot7 works, but some of these are actually making me kms JFKLSJFL;ADF◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

heeseung's eyes widened as you playfully tugged on his tie, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. surprise flickered across his features, but then a spark of excitement. he chuckled softly, letting himself be pulled closer to you.

with a gentle tug, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss. he melted into the moment, savoring the warmth of your embrace and the softness of your lips against his. his hands snaking its way to your waist. his grip tight and secure as if you were fragile and would slip out of his hands.

when you finally parted, his gaze lingered on you, "you're full of surprises, princess" he murmured, a fond smile playing on his lips. "but I definitely don't mind."

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

as you playfully tugged on Jay's tie, his eyebrows shot up in surprise, his lips parting slightly in confusion. He blinked at you, a confused expression his face. a faint blush crept up his cheeks as he glanced down at you.

"what are you doing?" he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his words as he gently tried to loosen your grip on his tie. there was a playful glint in his eyes.

his heart raced with anticipation as he awaited your response, his lips quirking into a crooked smile. 

JAKE (심재윤)

as your fingers wrapped around jake's tie, he felt a jolt of surprise shoot through him, his cheeks instantly flushing with warmth. he blinked at you, momentarily taken aback by your boldness.

"um, what... what are you doing, baby?" he stammered, his voice slightly shaky as he tried to play it cool, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed his flustered state. he attempted to muster a playful grin, but it came out more as a nervous twitch of his lips.

despite his efforts to play along, he found himself unable to shake off the flustered feeling that had settled over him. his mind raced with a million thoughts, and his attempts at witty banter fell flat as he struggled to find his composure, his gaze flickering away from yours every now and then.

in the end, he couldn't help but chuckle nervously, his cheeks still tinged with pink. "you caught me off guard there," he admitted sheepishly, a bashful smile gracing his lips.

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

as your fingers tugged on sunghoon's tie, he tilted his head slightly, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. he didn't flinch or question your actions, instead, a knowing smile curved his lips as he leaned closer to you.

without a word, he met your advance halfway, his lips melding seamlessly with yours in a kiss. there was an effortless ease to his response, as if he had anticipated your move. his lips moving in sync with yours, as his fingers ran through your hair softly.

when you finally parted, his gaze lingered on you, then glancing at your lips again. a soft smile played on his lips as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin.

SUNOO (김선우)

as your fingers tugged on sunoo's tie, he blinked in surprise, his eyes widening slightly as he looked down at you. there was a moment of confusion in his expression, as if he couldn't quite grasp the reason behind your sudden action.

"wait, what?" he exclaimed softly, his voice filled with bewilderment as he tried to process the situation. he glanced around, as if searching for some explanation for your unexpected behavior.

despite his confusion, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes, a playful glint that danced beneath the surface. he tilted his head, a curious smile forming on his lips as he awaited your explanation.

JUNGWON (양정원)

as your fingers teasingly tugged on Jungwon's tie, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He arched an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his gaze as he looked down at you.

"oh, I see what you're up to," he said, his voice low and filled with playful amusement. there was a hint of teasing in his tone, as if he was enjoying the game.

instead of immediately indulging your request, he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he teased you with his proximity. his lips brushed against yours.

but then, just as quickly as he had leaned in, he pulled back, a mischievous grin spreading across his features. "not so fast," he teased, his voice laced with playful defiance. "you'll have to work a little harder than that, angel."

RIKI (西村力)

as your fingers tugged on Riki's tie, a knowing glint flickered in his eyes, his lips curling into a playful smirk. He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours as he looked at you with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

"well, well, well," he teased, his voice low and tinged with mischief. "Seems like someone's feeling bold today." his tone was playful, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he was intrigued by your sudden boldness.

"but," he continued, drawing out the word as he leaned back slightly, a playful challenge in his gaze, "what do I get in return?" His smirk widened, his eyes dancing with mischief as he awaited your response, enjoying the playful exchange between the two of you.

"my love?" you raise your eyebrow, hoping he would agree.

"need more than that,"

[themultifanshipper]

don't be shy. elaborate.

personally i see this podium as carlos holding reader in place between his legs, readers back against his chest as oscar absolutely devours them. i just know he's the king of guy to unhinge his jaw and eat his partner alive because have you seen that man? no further explanation is needed. carlos is praising reader to no end while they're squirming and poor lando is sat in the Cuck Chair TM (there's one in every hotel fight me) unable to touch himself even though he's so hard it HURTS and all he can do is grip the armrests of the chair until his knuckles turn white. go forth and do with my thots what you will 🙃

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/750822766739111936/or-foursome-if-youre-not-a-pussy

This lineup goes hard

Warnings: nasty, nasty foursome. Unhinged Oscar. female reader

Oscar and lando bet that whoever was in front would get to eat you out while the other was forced to watch.

They put everything they had into that race, but Lando got damage and fell behind Carlos through no fault of his own.

So Oscar had an idea: let carlos join, just to torture Lando that much more.

So there they were, Oscar with his head buried between your legs, Carlos behind you holding your arms behind your back so you couldn't touch oscar, whispering sweet praises into your ear, and poor Lando in his cuck chair facing the bed.

Lando wasn't allowed to touch himself, so he was white knuckling the armrests as he squirmed, cock hard and leaking in his pants.

Oscar had promised him that if he was a good boy, he would fuck him nasty after, so he was determined to last.

Oscar was undeniably the best at giving head. Lando and Carlos were good too, amazing in fact, but Oscar had that lazy desperation that drove you insane. He alternated between gliding his tongue over your pussy, and shoving it as deep as possible while using his nose to rub at your clit, jaw unhinged and eyes rolling back as he loses himself in the sensation of your sweet juices running down his face.

You were three orgasms in when he finally lifted his head, face and shirt soaking wet, and looked at Carlos, who was also very hard but didn't dare try anything.

"Do you want to fuck her while I fuck Lando?" He asked, droopy grin exposing his bunny teeth, but weirdly he looked more menacing than cute in that moment.

Carlos groaned, his head rolling back towards the headboard. Lando whimpered in the corner and they both looked at him.

"Yes, please" was all Carlos could muster, the sight in front of him was changing his brain chemistry. Lando's hair was soaked in sweat, as was his underwear, very obvious tent under the wet patch as he panted and rolled his hips, searching for friction.

That's how you ended up in reverse cowgirl as Carlos pounded into you from below while Lando faced you on the bed, on his knees, prostate being abused by Oscar's fingers.

Once he was prepped, Oscar grabbed his hair and shoved his face down towards where your pussy was quivering around Carlos's cock, forcing Lando to look at it, and slid into him to the hilt, before starting a punishing pace.

Lando wailed into the covers as tears ran down his cheeks from the pleasure after being denied for so long, as Oscar started teasing him.

"Look at that Lando. Look at our girl's pussy being split open by another man's cock. That could've been you."

Lando whined as Oscar gave a particularly hard thrust before continuing "You could be making her feel good if you hadn't fucked up your race"

He knew that it wasn't Lando's fault, he was just being mean. But it was working because Lando moaned and tightened around his cock, so he slowed down to a slow grind, making Lando wail in desperation again.

"Don't be selfish Lando, our girl needs to come first, why don't you help her out, hmm?"

So he let go of Lando's hair, the older man immediately surging forward to lick over your lips spread around Carlos's cock, and Carlos groaned as he slowed down ever so slightly to help Lando out.

When Lando licked over your sensitive overstimulated clit, you shrieked and clenched around Carlos, which created a chain reaction.

Carlos suddenly pounded back into you, pumping you full of him as he came inside you, which made you come, drenching Lando's face in your juices, the sight of which sent Oscar into a frenzy, slamming his hips into Lando's, who then came completely untouched, the two mclaren drivers tumbling over the edge together.

You were all a mess of panting, sweaty bodies as you all caught your breath on the now very damp bed.

Lando spoke up first, wiping his slick wet hair away from his eyes. "Next time I win, you're going to suffer, Osc"

I spiralled (what else is new?)

Look at THESE MEN! RAIL ME! PLEASE!

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (09/10)

The Consequences

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: things get complicated, you and Aemond's relationship ends and despite finding solutions, nothing can repair the damage to your ruined future.

word count: 8.3k

previous part • series masterlist

fortunately it didn't take me as long as last time and finally here it is hehe🙏😚

I really hope you like it a lot and remember that we're not far from the end, so I'm looking forward to your comments with your opinions. thank you very much for reading beautiful people!❤

You want to believe it's all a misunderstanding.

You couldn't sleep all night. Anxiety and worry consumed you like never before, waiting and checking your mail every moment hoping to see if anything would arrive, but nothing.

Your whole night was summed up in thinking about possible catastrophic scenarios, although they were not possible after all, since that is what is really going to happen because at this point there is nothing you can do because the college applications have already passed.

That's why you checked your email every moment, almost on the verge of tears, thinking about what the fuck you're going to do, how you're going to go to college and why Aemond didn't keep his end of the deal.

There was the urge to text him and even call him in all your desperation and confusion, ask him what happened, but you decided to wait until the next morning to ask him in person to get clear answers.

And that's what you're going to do now.

You don't even know if you are right but there is no other explanation when things are too clear. And you can't help but feel the pain of betrayal burning in your chest, with the anxiety consuming you and the need.

You finally arrive at the school, where without thinking of absolutely nothing, you start searching for Aemond through all the hallways, with determination and rage mixed inside you.

Your eyes frantically search through all the students as you walk quickly and make your way through them all, ignoring their stares at you as you don't care at the moment, you have a goal in mind.

And along with that goal and what you have to do now, still your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more painful and confusing than the last.

After all the moments you both spent together, both real and pretend, every laugh, every gesture, every kiss, it all seemed so real and so genuine.

But now… it all felt like a cruel illusion.

And to have to accompany it all with this, it's just unbelievable.

You finally see him in the distance, it's not hard to make out his distinctive silver hair, with his figure walking towards the doors leading to the huge backyard of the school, talking to some friends.

Anger and sadness intensify as you see him looking so calm, as if nothing is going on, made worse by the fact that he won't try to contact you either to let you know anything about the university, or even give you the news himself, anything.

You clench your fists and muster up all your courage before reaching for him, feeling completely hopeless.

“Aemond,” you call out to him, your voice tense and cutting.

He turns to you at the call of your voice, his expression changing from surprise to slight concern in an instant. His friends continue walking and he remains standing, as you walk towards him.

And you don't even give him time to speak, as you immediately raise your phone, showing him the college's Facebook ad on the screen.

“What is this?” you ask him, demanding explanations, confusion and pain reflecting in your eyes.

You feel your voice tremble, but you stand your ground, holding his gaze with a determination that belies your vulnerability.

He watches the screen and you see the worry spread further across his face, followed by a nervousness that runs through him from head to toe. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words seem caught in his throat.

“I'm sorry,” he says in a barely audible whisper, leaning toward you and with sorrow in his gaze, ”I-I didn't want you to find out like this.”

The knot in your stomach tightens even tighter as the worry and anxiety intensifies, watching him without understanding.

“And what does that mean?”

He looks to all sides, noticing the number of students surrounding you who begin to watch you both curiously, whispering amongst themselves.

“Come,” he says softly as he places a firm but careful hand on your shoulder and guides you into one of the empty classrooms, away from the stares.

You don't argue with him because you don't want to draw attention to yourself either, but as soon as he closes the door behind you, you feel the pressure in your chest intensify and you immediately turn to him, the need for answers burning inside you.

“You didn't talk to your grandsire or your sister?” you ask, your voice trembling between anger and the anxiety you're trying to contain.

He looks down for a moment, swallowing hard. His silence hangs heavy in the air before he looks up at you, his eyes showing a mixture of weariness and regret.

“Yes, with my grandsire,” he states to you, "But I'm still working on it," he confesses with his tone infused with a sincerity that hurts you more than you expected.

You feel your breath catch and you watch him in shock, with your lips parted and hopelessness all over your gaze, trying to process what he just said. The hopelessness is reflected in your gaze, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration that you struggle to hold back.

“What?” you manage to say, your voice cracking in disbelief.

He takes a step toward you, his eye fixed on yours as he tries to remain calm, though you can see the tension in the way his hands move, as if he's searching the air for the right words.

“Listen,” he begins, your tone softer and almost pleading, ”It's not entirely true that the whole admissions process is over. There are still… possibilities,” he says nervous, ”And I promise you that I've already sent all your documents to my grandsire. I just need a little more time to be able to convince him, and I will, I swear.”

He tries to convince you, observing you completely honest and sincere in what he is saying, but you no longer believe in him.

His words are like a desperate attempt to calm you down, to reassure you that everything will be okay. But distrust grows inside you with a sharp pain that spreads throughout your chest.

You watch him, looking for some sign to give you hope, some spark of certainty you can cling to. But all you see is uncertainty and nervousness, insecurity, because even he doesn't know if he will get you in.

You think about the announcement, how the university has already sent out all the emails, both acceptance and rejection. Then reality hits you like a slap in the face, and suddenly you understand.

“You… you got in?” you ask in a breathy whisper, though deep down you already know the answer.

He doesn't answer you right away, as instead of words, all you get is his look, a mixture of pity and embarrassment that only confirms it.

“Yes but you'll get in Y/N too,” he quickly insists, his voice desperate to convince you, ” You don't need to worry about anything.”

How easy it is to talk when he is the one who certainly should not worry about his future.

And finally the tears find their way, unable to control them any longer. You press your lips together tightly, trying to keep your composure, but the pain and frustration are too intense.

Aemond stirs restlessly, hating to see you cry. His hands tense, wanting to reach out and be able to hug you, but he restrains himself and watches you with concern.

“Y/N—

“ You don't even know if you'll be able to get me in too,” you interrupt him in a cold and distant voice, laden with bitterness with the feeling of betrayal and disappointment in your chest, “I trusted you, that's why I didn't apply to other colleges,” you look at him hurt and annoyed, “Now what am I supposed to do? The time for applications has already passed. I can't apply anywhere else because this, your promise, should have been settled long ago.”

Your words echo in the air, and the reality of the situation settles between the two of you like a barrier. He is affected by your words and falls silent, not knowing how to respond.

Worst of all, you know that he really wanted to help you, that his intentions were sincere, that's what you really want to think in the midst of all this.

But did he really want to help you in the first place?

If that was really his intention, then you wouldn't be in this position right now, in this situation that should never have been allowed. And you also remember Floris.

The tension is palpable and you feel the lump in your throat tighten even more and you look at him with pain.

“You used me,” you say with your voice cracking and barely above a whisper.

He shakes his head, his gaze full of despair.

“No, it wasn't like that,” he tries to correct with his pleading tone as he takes a step closer to you, “That was never my intention Y/N, you know that.”

You pull away from him, increasing the distance between the two of you, tears gathering more in your eyes and this time you make no effort to hold them back.

“I know because of what happened with Floris,” you say bitterly, ”And the worst thing is that I did like you.”

Your words leave him speechless for a moment, his expression marked by a mixture of regret and pain. He reaches out a hand toward you, as if to touch you, to comfort you, but you abruptly pull away.

“Y/N, please let me explain—

“There's nothing to explain,” you cut him off, unable to bear to listen to him any longer.

You feel something inside you crack and he seems to notice your change, to which he doesn't know what to do.

He tells you something else but you no longer listen. The broken promises, the destroyed trust, it all piles up on your shoulders, making you feel smaller and lonelier than you ever felt before.

The pain on his face is evident and when you finally decide to walk away, Aemond tries to stop you, tries to remedy the situation, but you don't even hear him anymore, you don't even see him, it's as if he is suddenly invisible and you leave him behind with pain and bitterness branded on your chest.

All because you realize that he, his promises, his words, were never worth it. And now you're paying the consequences of your future ruined by an absurd contract you should never have accepted in the first place.

You feel as if the world has fallen on top of you.

All the way home, you feel a mixture of intense emotions overflowing and the only way you can get them off your chest is to cry.

You are thankful that your father is still at work or else you would have had no idea how to explain your visibly pitiful state to him. Besides you don't even have the courage to really tell him what's going on.

But all is probably not lost.

Anxiety, despair and frustration wash over you as you sit in front of your laptop. But it also invades you and you cling to hope. You want, desire and yearn to find a solution, one last chance to not lose an academic year, so you open the browser.

Your fingers move quickly over the keyboard, as you search the admissions pages of other universities.

You visit one after another, hoping to find one that is still accepting applications, one that might have a deadline extension. But as you read and watch, that hope fades.

The words ‘admission perido has ended’ are repeated over and over again on every page you visit.

You try a small college in another city, then the only two available in your own city, but in all the answers are the same. Time has run out. The deadline has passed and there is no way to reverse it.

Frustrated, you hold your hands to your head, feeling the despair and anxiety growing inside you. And unable to help it, tears well up in your eyes and finally the situation crushes you.

With a loud sob escaping your lips, you collapse in your chair, feeling completely helpless, hopeless and like a fool.

You don't understand how you couldn't take precautions, have a backup plan B in case Aemond's plan failed, apply to even the city's public university, but none of that crossed your mind at all.

How are you going to explain this to your father? That you didn't apply to other colleges because you trusted a guy's word to get into Citadel in exchange for making his ex-girlfriend jealous?

Even the situation, thinking about what you were doing all that time instead of applying to other colleges makes you frustrated and angry at yourself for being such a fool.

And yet, you still hold on.

The next morning, your spirits still low, you head to the office of the school's coordinator, Mrs. Turner, with this last spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to resolve this with her help.

Mrs. Turner greets you with a friendly smile, though her face reflects some concern when she sees the expression on your face clearly tired from lack of sleep and swollen from all the crying you've done.

“Miss Y/N, what's wrong? Is everything all right?” he asks you, inviting you to sit down.

You waste no time and explain the situation to her. You decide to omit certain details, especially everything to do with Aemond and his promise. Instead, you opt to say that, due to a family problem, you missed the date for applying to colleges.

“Well, I understand that some universities do a second round of application, but you're mostly private universities in the city.”

“Only private here in the city?” you ask nervously and with a slight illusion.

“Yes,” he nods at you, “Maybe you could make an application for a scholarship.”

You bite your lip, feeling the frustration begin to take hold of you again and the illusion disappears.

You know that, while a scholarship might help you cover some of the costs, it won't be enough. You will only be offered a partial scholarship, and even then, the costs of a private university would be unaffordable for you and your father.

With the scholarship you had applied for at Citadel, you would have had most of your expenses covered, as long as you maintained a good grade point average. But you were rejected.

“No, I-I… I can't afford private college,” you admit as you look at her in desperation, ”Are you sure there's nothing you can do at the public university? Maybe send in a special request or something?”

She looks at you with some pity and disappointment.

“I'm sorry Y/N, but I'm afraid that's not the way things work,” she tells you in a soft voice, “Unfortunately, at most universities, once the admissions deadlines have closed, there's nothing we can do.”

You're not even surprised because you were definitely expecting something like this. Nor do you feel anything, just…emptiness and bitterness.

Mrs. Turner maintains her compassionate look as she continues to speak, trying to soften the impact of the situation on you.

“Y/N, I know this may seem discouraging, but I want you to know that all is not lost. Losing a year before entering college is not the end of the world,” she says in a reassuring tone, ”You can use this time to get a job, gain experience, and prepare an even stronger application for the next cycle. There's no rush, and many people find that taking a year off allows them to better focus on what they really want.”

But you know what you really want.

You want to study law, have a professional career, graduate and work at something you really like where you earn enough money to help your dad, give him a better life. That's what you want.

But you ruined it all by agreeing to a dumb contract, by believing his words and by not backing yourself.

You know her words are meant to calm you down, to offer you a positive outlook in the midst of the storm of emotions flooding through you. But, at this moment, these words offer you no comfort.

All you can think about is how your plan, your future, has crumbled in front of you.

You nod slowly, not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful for his attempt to help you. But inside, you feel misunderstood. You know Mrs. Turner only wants to help you, but the despair and fear of the future you now face keep you from seeing the bright side.

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” you say with an effort to keep your voice steady, ”I appreciate your advice.”

She gives you a warm, though still concerned, smile as you rise from your chair.

“If you need to talk more, or if there's anything I can help you with, feel free to come see me, okay?”

You nod once more, thanking her for her kindness and time before leaving the office.

Once outside, the hustle and bustle of students filling the halls of the school envelop you and you quickly make your way to your locker.

You open the door with automatic movements, barely aware of what you are doing as your thoughts invade you. With trembling hands, you put away the books and notebooks you won't need for the next few classes.

As you go through the motions, the pain and frustration begin to build. And when you least expect it, tears begin to slide down your cheeks silently.

You try to control yourself, pursing your lips and wiping your cheeks, but your emotions are too intense to be repressed. When suddenly, laughter reaches your ears.

You watch out of the corner of your eye and see Alys and her friends walking almost in front of you with mocking voices and laughter, full of undisguised contempt.

You have an idea what specifically amuses them about you, you know they must have sent you that picture of Aemond and Floris, but you also feel their laughter as a cruel mockery of your already desperate situation.

Still you can't help but feel embarrassed and angrily wipe away your tears with a sharp gesture.

Rage runs through your whole body, for everything. And your tears, though stopped for the moment, still threaten to return. You hurry to put everything away and slam the door shut to finally walk away.

You walk quickly down the hallway, wanting to get away from all the people, when as you turn down a corridor, you come face to face with Aemond, Aegon and his friends.

The impact is almost physical, but both you and they stop abruptly to avoid the blow. And as soon as you realize who you have in front of you, you freeze for an instant.

Just when your day couldn't get any worse.

Aemond, with his silver hair and imposing figure, is the first to notice you. His expression instantly changes from surprise to concern as he sees the traces of tears on your face.

And although he doesn't say anything right away, his gaze is intense, full of worry and guilt.

The tension in the air becomes palpable, because both you and he have no idea what to do, what to say or how to react. But you, feeling the pressure of the stares, feel trapped and instantly have the urge to walk away.

But first, Aemond takes a step towards you, trying to close the distance between the two of you and your eyes meet his, charged with a mixture of desperation and hope.

“Y/N,” he calls your name.

And before he can say anything else, you don't let him and quickly move away.

Desperation drives you to dodge him, also the fact that you can't stand to be in his presence, which you do but Aemond reacts immediately and follows you.

He calls your name with an urgency that makes his voice echo down the hallway, leaving his brother and his friends behind.

“Y/N, please stop, he needed to talk to you,” he urges you.

His hand reaches out to yours in an attempt to stop you but you continue walking quickly.

Maybe it's the look you both have or it's the unusual attitude you're both having around each other that starts to get people's attention. But you don't care since all you want at that precise moment is to get away from him.

“Please, Y/N.”

And then his hand takes yours, stopping you and you turn to him, your face flushed with tears and anger inside you.

“Let go of me,” you tell him in warning in a cold, cutting voice, ”I won't tell you again.”

The scene definitely draws more attention and some students begin to murmur and watch you both very intently, but the whole whirlwind of emotions makes you lose sight of the awkwardness of the situation.

You really don't want to deal with Aemond right now. In fact you don't even want to have anything to do with him anymore.

And Aemond seeing that, your attitude and coldness, the fact that you can't even stand to see him and the fact that you are being terribly honest, hurts him, really hurts him with a sharp pain in his chest, but he insists.

“Please, just for a few minutes. I need to explain—

Completely losing patience, showing the intensity of your pain and frustration, you release yourself from his grip in a sudden movement that draws more attention from the students and the situation becomes an unwanted show.

“Leave me alone,” you warn him through your teeth before turning and walking away with quick steps.

And thankfully he doesn't try to stop you again.

Everyone is looking at you and everyone is looking at Aemond as well, but you quickly find refuge away from all the stares, taking no notice.

However, you should have expected that little show to go around like plague throughout the school accompanied with the new rumor that Aemond Targaryen and his previously invisible girlfriend have broken up.

And honestly… you didn't even care.

To this point, technically he and you have ended whatever the two of you had, so you don't care to either affirm or deny it, you just don't make a big deal out of it and let people believe what they want.

Besides, how could you care when there are certainly more important things like thinking about your now ruined future?

News you have the confidence to share with Alysanne after all the drama involving you and Aemond, since you two are all anyone talks about in the entire school.

“That fucking idiot,” Alysanne mutters in disbelief, "Just when I thought what he did with Floris was so low but this… I mean, are you kidding me?" she stares at Cregan, incredulous, ”This is so much worse.”

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your forehead as you close your eyes and simply let your body try to relax. It's uncomfortable because of the hard metal beneath you as you lie on the bleachers but you still try.

“But he said he would try to fix it, didn't he?” asks Cregan in a cautious tone.

“And you believe him?” reproaches Alysanne incredulously, "I wouldn't and Y/N shouldn't either," she observes you, ”He had all this time to do something about it, even to be honest with you and tell you ahead of time that he wasn't going to succeed in helping you. Then you would have had a chance to apply to other colleges but no, he preferred to stay silent and enjoy the acting and all that it provoked in his stupid ex-girlfriends.”

And put like that… everything that happened sounds so much worse.

But you know she's right.

While the whole school is whispering about your ‘breakup’ with him, you can't help but feel that there are much more important things at stake, things that Aemond never understood or tried to understand.

And Alysanne seeing your expression and you basically not reacting because you're thinking about the future and how incredibly fucked up you must feel, lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you.

“I know it's a stupid question but are you okay?” she asks you in a warm and concerned tone.

You let out a sigh and take a moment before answering, not watching them and not taking your hand off your forehead.

“I don't know what to do,” you say in a low, emotionless tone.

Alysanne grimaces and looks at Cregan who also returns the same expression; they don't know what to do to make you feel better and relieve that huge weight you're carrying.

College is a big deal, both of them would also feel the same way if they were in your place, that's a fact. But by the same token they are not in your situation, they don't know what to do to cheer you up because, what could they possibly do to even help you? Nothing.

“I'm just thinking about how I'm going to tell my dad.”

You confess finally, withdrawing your hand from your forehead and fixing your eyes on the gray sky above you.

“I'll have to lie to him, tell him I applied but all the colleges rejected me,” you say regretfully, “Now I'm just left to look for a job and do that until I can apply next year.”

Alysanne and Cregan exchange a look.

“It's not a bad plan,” she tells you, trying to cheer you up, “In fact, a lot of people of our age don't go to college after graduation and do exactly that, get a job and apply until the next year or until they're sure of what they want to study.”

“Yeah,” Cregan agrees, "Besides, my family has several businesses in town, I could help you get a job at one of them.”

You can't help but place a small smile on your lips, seeing the willingness of both of them in wanting to support you, however, they can see the sadness all over your face and the discouragement you feel.

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate it,” you say genuinely, "And I know it's not a bad plan but…" you sigh, feeling the frustration and sadness swirl in your chest, ”I know my dad, and I know that, when I tell him that I wasn't accepted, he'll be supportive… but I also know that he'll be very disappointed.”

That's what weighs on you the most, far more than anything else, going over the whole Aemond thing and also over you, your dad.

He has sacrificed so much for you, working long hours at a job that doesn't give him what he truly deserves. He earns enough to support you and the house, he has always made sure you both have what you need; food on the table, clothes and basic comforts.

But he never buys anything for himself and his own dreams have always taken a back seat. All so he can give you a chance to do something else, have a better life and now…you feel like you've failed him.

Cregan and Alysanne watch you silently, their faces reflecting the gravity of your words. They know there is nothing they can say that will truly ease your pain, but you know they are both here, offering you their support.

“Well, I don't know your dad but still, he's your dad and he loves you,” Alysanne tells you in a warm tone, ”He knows you better than anyone and I'm sure all he'll want is for you to be okay.”

“And I'm sure he's seen how you've tried your best and you can't take the blame for something that was out of your hands.”

You understand what they both mean and you also ponder your dad's attitude in your mind briefly, but still, you can't help but place a small bitter smile.

“Actually it was my fault because it was my decision to trust Aemond, instead of making sure I had other options to prevent exactly this,” you say without emotion, “And I also feel that… not only it hurts me to have to tell my dad, but also to feel this disappointment,” you explain, “I really believed that I would go to Citadel and that my life was going to follow that path I had planned for a long time. But now… I feel like that dream has been taken away from me again.”

Alysanne looks at you sadly, understanding the weight of your words and she along with Cregan, no longer have any idea what to say to you. And you notice this, so you watch both of them trying to keep a genuine smile on your lips.

“You know? I really appreciate you both being here for me… I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have you guys to talk to,” you tell them sincerely, ”But I think it needed some time alone.”

Alysanne looks at you uncertainly.

“Are you sure? You know I don't mind, I can skip the next class to stay with you.”

“No, no, don't worry,” you hasten to say.

“I can stay too,” Cregan adds, shrugging.

“No guys, I don't want you to miss class for me, really,” you look at them sincerely, "I'll be fine, I just…" you let out a sigh, ”I need time alone.”

They both exchange a look and Cregan is the one who stands up first, stretching his arms out before looking at you with a mixture of understanding and concern.

“Fine but if you need anything, tell us,” he tells you with a soft voice and a warm gaze.

You nod in his direction.

“Yes, thank you,” you reply as you return a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Alysanne lingers a little longer, watching you with the same intensity as always, as if she wants to make sure you really will be okay before she leaves.

“I'll keep an eye out on you, okay?”

“Okay,” you tell her, feeling that simple gesture of support fill you with a strange mixture of relief and sadness.

She nods, smiling a little before walking away along with Cregan, leaving you alone on the bleachers.

And you stand there, thinking about everything and yet nothing, where you allow yourself to let out a long, heavy sigh. You look up at the sky, allowing thoughts to flow unrestricted.

The faint sounds around you envelop you, such as the soccer team boys training on the field and the entire cheerleading squad, as well as the faint, comforting sound of the leaves moving from the big trees along with the birds singing.

And even though you don't want to feel bad, the pain, the disappointment and the uncertainty about what will come next, it all hits you again in an unavoidable way.

And it all blends together in an emotional whirlwind that leaves you exhausted.

Time seems to stand still as you stand there, lost in thought. And you barely notice when someone approaches, as the sound of approaching footsteps barely registers in your consciousness.

And because you are absorbed in your thoughts, you only come out of your trance the moment a soft voice right next to you breaks the silence in your space.

“Hi Y/N.”

You raise your head almost immediately, definitely not expecting that and suddenly you see Floris standing next to you, watching you with a mixture of insecurity and regret.

You frown and look at her confused, not bothering to hide it, truly not understanding what she's doing here, talking to you.

And receiving no response from you, she looks down uncomfortably for a moment, fiddling with her hands as if searching for the right words before speaking.

And this is the first time you see her like this. You don't spend your time watching and analyzing her either but normally she always comes across as confident and sure of her whole persona, but now… you've never seen her so nervous.

“I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now…” she admits with her voice barely a whisper, sitting down next to you on the bleacher, though she keeps an appropriate distance, ”But I really want to talk to you.”

'Talk?'

You repeat in your mind, still watching her without understanding and unable to help but feel a pang of bitterness at the memory of all that has happened.

The truth is you don't want to talk, you already feel frustrated and tired enough without now having to deal with this and especially with her.

But for some strange reason, you don't say anything, you just watch her, waiting, keeping calm, waiting for her to continue. She seems to hesitate for a moment, but then takes a deep breath, focusing her gaze on the horizon.

“I-I… after what happened in Dragonstone…” she begins to speak cautiously, ”Aemond decided to cut off all communication with me.”

That nonconformity and that little ache in your chest comes up as you hear her name and you too look straight ahead, avoiding her gaze.

“He told me that what happened between us was a mistake and that you never deserved that,” she continues in a soft tone, ”I don't know if that gives you any kind of comfort, but I thought you should know.”

'Comfort?'

You don't know whether to laugh or cry but it's clear that none of this brings you comfort.

And she seems to be struggling with her own emotions, as you see out of the corner of your eye how her hands clench in her lap as if she's trying to control the trembling in them.

“And I'm not telling you this to justify myself, I know what happened at that party was a mistake,” she says emphatically, ”I shouldn't have gotten involved, let alone knowing that you were his girlfriend. That was…” she pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh, ”That was a big mistake on my part. I should have walked away from him the moment I met you, given you your place and respected you, but… I didn't.”

Her words fall heavy in the air and although part of you wants to lash out at her, another part of you feels so drained that you can't even find the energy to argue. Besides it's not just her… it's also Aemond.

“I was the one who was all the time looking for his attention at that party, you know? I was the one who had the intention of kissing him all that time, “she confesses, visibly embarrassed, ”I-I… I don't know, I felt so jealous when I came back and saw him with you. I-I guess I… still had feelings for him.”

You let out a long breath and finally speak bitterly.

“If he was the one who sent you to tell me all this to justify what he did and expect me to forgive him, it's not going to work Floris,” you warn her.

She shakes her head instantly, her eyes full of urgency.

“No, no,” she tells you immediately, ”He didn't send me to tell you anything, he doesn't even talk to me and barely notices me when we're in the same place. There's nothing really between us anymore Y/N,” she insists, ”It all ended when I left.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say or what to really think, also not having the slightest idea what to do.

Even if all of this were true, everything she's telling you, you don't care anymore. All of this just comes with the part where Aemond didn't deliver what he promised you. All of this is just more accompanying pain, but what does it really matter?

“I'm really sorry about what happened,” she murmurs in your direction after you say nothing, “I know my words won't change anything and I'm not expecting you to forgive me… but I wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry.”

You remain silent, jaw clenched and gaze lowered, with the silence still heavy, dense.

Her words echo in your mind, mingling with everything else you've been carrying. But what are you supposed to feel? Relief? More pain? Or both? You don't know.

And resigned to the fact that she won't find some kind of reaction from you nor will you say anything to her, she lets out a last sigh, accepting your indifference without a problem.

“And I also wanted to tell you that…I know that Alys and her friends were the ones who sent you that picture,” she confesses to you and you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, ”And you don't have to worry about them spreading it all over school. I made sure that doesn't happen.”

The lump in your throat tightens. Though his words seek to offer you some sort of comfort, they do not soothe the wound that has already been inflicted. It doesn't change what happened, nor does it erase the humiliation you felt.

But even so, there is something in her tone, in the sincerity with which she speaks to you, that disarms you a little, if only for an instant.

Finally she stands up, feeling that there is nothing more to say. She throws you one last look, full of regret, before turning and starting to walk away.

And you don't stop her, as you have nothing to say, when suddenly, she stops after only a few steps and this catches your attention, so you look at her in confusion.

Floris, still with her back to you, seems to hesitate for a moment, as if considering whether or not to say what has been on her mind. When finally, he turns to you again, his eyes searching yours with an intensity you didn't expect.

“He really loves you, you know? Aemond.”

For the first time in the entire conversation you hold her gaze.

The sincerity in her eyes strikes you, but it's hard to believe those words after everything that's happened.

“When I came back from the exchange, something changed in him towards me. I don't know, he didn't see me the same way anymore,” she explains, "At first I didn't understand why, but when I met you, I knew," she confesses.

She pauses and seems to hesitate, as if choosing her next words carefully.

“The kiss…that kiss meant nothing to him, I know,” she finally confesses. “I saw him at Dragonstone, I saw how he looked at you… completely in love with you.”

You press your lips together and stare at a specific point, remembering those moments.

“And I also saw you completely in love with him too,” she admits in a soft voice, “I saw how you looked at him, with the same intensity with which he looked at you. And honestly… the two of you looked very happy together.”

This makes you feel exposed in a way you didn't expect, stirring a little in your seat, not knowing how to react.

The images of you and Aemond at Dragonstone, the times you spent together on the yacht, the hot tub, on the beach, in the castle and at the aquarium, when everything was fine and neither of you were faking it and it looked like everything was going to be just fine, all flashes through your mind.

“I saw all that, Y/N,” Floris continues, looking down in shame. “And that's why I accepted his decision to walk away from me. Because even though I didn't want to accept it at the time, I knew that what he felt for you was real. And what you felt for him was too.”

For a moment, you stare at her, not knowing how to respond or what to do, since you didn't expect to hear this either.

And you honestly can't deny the honesty in her words and in that it's probably true what she's saying, but you also can't ignore the pain that still burns inside you.

And so you simply nod slightly, as if you are accepting her confession even though you don't know what to do with it.

Floris looks at you one last time before turning completely around and continuing on her way, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the emotions you've been trying to contain.

You feel a surge of sadness mixed with a strange calm, as if there is nothing left to give. Everything that has happened between you, Aemond and Floris is still a complicated knot to untangle.

Now the silence that follows is heavy, but somehow, it also seems liberating.

Aemond POV.

With a folder in hand containing all the documents he needs and a determination all over his mind and posture, he barely observes all the people around him as he walks quickly through the hallways of the building, heading towards a specific office.

When he reaches the corresponding hallway, he slows his pace, cautiously observing his surroundings, making sure his grandsire is not nearby.

After so long keeping him waiting in the hope that he would do him the favor despite having already told him it would not be possible, he must have known that he will never really help him after all the favors he has done for him.

And that is precisely why Aemond has resorted to such measures.

But if his grandsire sees him here, he will immediately know what he wants to do and will not hesitate to kick him out of the building. That's why he has to be quick as the guards have seen him come in and so have all the people who work here.

And it's hard to go unnoticed when you have silver hair, which implies either that you work here or that you are the son, brother or nephew of the people who run the company.

So he quickly makes his way to the office, where he doesn't even knock on the door before entering, just walks in quickly to avoid being seen.

“Aemond?”

He looks at his sister and lets out a long breath watching her wearily, to walk over and take a seat in front of her.

“I'm sorry, my grandsire can't know I'm here or he'll kick me out,” he explains.

“Why? What happened?” she asks genuinely concerned, stopping what she was doing on her computer.

“Nothing, it's just…” he pauses as she brings a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration, ”I need you to do me a favor, Nyra. A big one.”

This gets her full attention and she nods slowly in his direction.

“What do you need?” she says to him with all disposition, watching him intently.

Your face, your words, all the moments that happened, whether good or bad, but most of all your hurt and broken face, the disappointment and how terribly sad you must have felt.

All of that is Aemond's drive to finally make things right and the things he should have done in the first place.

But it is not only that, it is also the fact that you no longer want to have anything to do with him, that you no longer want to be in the same place with him, that you can't stand his presence and that you don't answer any of his messages or calls, wanting to stop having any kind of contact with him.

All of that lets him know exactly how you felt about Floris and also about the fact that he didn't keep his promise.

And now he is willing to do anything, absolutely anything to be able to keep what he promised you. It doesn't matter if you still don't want to have anything to do with him, all he wants is for you to go to the college of your dreams.

But Rhaenyra's face after explaining and asking him for the favor, is exactly what he expected but he will still keep trying.

“You know I can't do something like that, Aemond.”

“You just don't have to say anything to him Rhae, please.”

She shakes her head.

“That's only worse. You know how hard it was for me to get him to agree to let me work here since dad died and I still have to put up with his bad treatment—

“Oh please, we all know it's only a matter of time before you and Daemon also get to run this company in addition to Driftmark and Harrenhal,” he interrupts her seriously, “You'll take my grandsire's job and send him to run only the Oldtown company.”

Rhaenyra remains serious for a moment, pursing her lips.

“It's the right thing to do and you know it. My father left this to me, to us,” she clarifies truthfully, ”And your grandfather took advantage to take it all and leave almost nothing to me.”

He lets out a long breath, bringing a hand to his chin.

“When you've finished your degree, you'll run Oldtown and if you want, we can spread out more locations,” she tells him in a soft tone, “Helaena can also run Highgarden and Aegon and Daeron can also help us if that's what they really want. That's what father wanted and I never once intended to take that away from you, your legacy, as your grandsire told you I would.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he tells her in a soft, sincere tone, understanding what she means.

The fight over the inheritance was always in the family ever since their father became ill. He never showed them love or even that he cared even a little for them, but at least he intended to leave them a large part of his legacy.

Neither he nor his siblings fought with Rhaenyra and Daemon for it, it was only their grandsire, who from the time they were all children put hatred towards them to her.

But eventually, both he and his siblings realized that Rhaenyra had other intentions and everything grandsire said was a lie. Rhaenyra didn't want to steal their legacy, she never did.

And now… they have all developed a strange but pleasant relationship with her. He more than anything has developed a respect, even an affection, for his older sister, because she wasn't the villain they had always been led to believe.

“Our arrangement with Citadel University was made precisely from the company in Oldtown, a company he will run until you have graduated,” she continues, “And if he already refused once to help you with that and finds out that I did, this strange peace I have managed to keep will be over.”

And the worst part is that she's right.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of those words.

If his grandsire finds out that she helped him behind his back, all the progress they've made to maintain family stability will shatter, destroying any chance of avoiding another conflict. And all because of a girl only he knows.

If it were a nephew, cousin or someone closer to the family nucleus, everything would be different. Nepotism is a common currency among wealthy and powerful families, like his, but in your case, you are a complete stranger.

That is precisely the reason why his grandsire refused to offer help him.

And now, Aemond is caught between the desire to repair the damage he caused in you and the fear that his insistence will cause an even greater rift in the family.

“Then I'll do it,” he says with conviction, sure of his words and Rhae looks at him surprised and confused, “Just tell me how I can get her into college. You don't have to get involved, I'll take it all on myself. I'll say I asked you for help and you refused. If anything goes wrong, it will be my responsibility.”

Rhaenyra lets out a long, deep sigh.

“Aemond—

She begins softly, but he interrupts her before she can say more.

“She deserves this,” he says, his voice lower but laden with sincerity. “It wasn't her fault. She did a favor for me on the condition that I would do this one for her. Besides, I've done a lot of things for my grandfather and the company, especially this company, so please Rhae, I really want to do this.”

Rhaenyra watches him for a long moment, her eyes searching for something in his.

The intensity in Aemond's gaze does not waver, for he is willing to take the consequences, to stand up to even his grandsire, if it means giving you a chance to repair the damage he himself caused.

“Even if I have to give up my own place to give it to her, I don't care, I'll do it.”

Rhaenyra blinks slowly, her mind struggling between logic and the desire to help him. Aemond rarely shows regret, and seeing him so willing to sacrifice himself for someone surprises her and reaches her deeply.

And finally, after what seems like an eternity, she sighs.

“What you're asking is a huge risk,” she admits, looking at him with a mixture of seriousness and empathy.

He holds his breath, his body rigid, as she seems to debate internally and he waits for a decision. And then, she turns to her computer, beginning to type, letting out a long breath.

“But don't be silly, I want you to study at Citadel too.”

The relief Aemond feels is almost palpable. A mixture of gratitude and hope takes hold of him, and his shoulders seem to relax for the first time since he entered the office.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Truly.”

“Just let me make a phone call and I also need her docu—

She doesn't finish saying the word as he, with a quickness that reflects his urgency, drops the folder with all the necessary papers in front of her on her desk.

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, looking at the folder with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Sure,” she murmurs and opens the folder, letting out a small laugh, beginning to flip through the documents, making sure everything is in order "Well, this folder is quite complete and the grades are excellent,” she says in acknowledgement, "That's good because it will help us speed up the process."

Aemond allows himself to let out a sigh of relief, watching as Rhaenyra steps in to help him with this favor. And as she begins to make calls and coordinate the necessary details, he remains attentive throughout, beginning to feel more relieved than ever.

He knows this won't exactly make you forgive him, but at the very least, he's fixing the damage he's done to you so he can give you the opportunity you deserve.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @saturnssrings @queen-of-elves

[lev1hei1chou]

A New Addition

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo and your child return from a walk with a puppy Masterlist

The sun casted a warm glow over the bustling streets of Tokyo as Gojo and his child ambled along, hand in hand. It was a perfect day for a walk, and the duo seemed to be enjoying every moment of it. Meanwhile, you sat at home, wondering where they had disappeared to. It had been quite some time, and your curiosity was piqued.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. Where could they possibly be? Your mind concocted all sorts of scenarios, from them getting lost in a nearby park to stumbling upon a hidden portal to another dimension. Okay, maybe the latter was a bit far-fetched, but hey, with Gojo involved, you never knew.

Just as you were about to dial Gojo's number and demand an explanation for their prolonged absence, the front door creaked open. You whipped around, expecting to see the mischievous duo sauntering in with grins plastered on their faces. However, what you were met with instead was silence. Suspicious silence.

"Darling?" you called out, furrowing your brows in confusion.

No response.

Your heart began to race as you imagined all sorts of disastrous scenarios. Had they been kidnapped by curses? Had Gojo accidentally transported them to some far-off land? Taking a deep breath, you pushed aside your frantic thoughts and stepped into the hallway.

"Satoru, this isn't funny!" you exclaimed, the worry evident in your voice.

Suddenly, you heard a faint sound, almost like... a woof?

Your eyes widened in disbelief as Gojo and your child rounded the corner, their faces adorned with sheepish grins. But what caught your attention the most was the small, wriggling bundle nestled in your child's arms—a fluffy, adorable puppy.

"What is this?" you asked, torn between amusement and exasperation.

Your husband scratched the back of his head, a guilty expression crossing his features. "Surprise?"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Baby, you can't just bring home a puppy without consulting me first!"

"But look at its little face!" your child pleaded, holding the puppy up for emphasis.

You couldn't deny that the puppy was indeed adorable, with its big, soulful eyes and wagging tail. However, you were well aware of the responsibility that came with owning a pet, and you weren't sure if you were ready to take that plunge just yet.

"Please, Mommy," your child said, giving you the best puppy-dog eyes they could muster.

You felt your resolve waver as you gazed into those pleading eyes, but you knew you had to stand your ground. "I don't know, sweetie. Taking care of a puppy is a big responsibility."

"We promise we'll take care of it!" Gojo chimed in, his own puppy-dog eyes in full effect.

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well that Gojo's definition of "taking care" of something usually involved minimal effort on his part. But despite your reservations, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of denying your child—and Satoru—a furry companion.

With a defeated sigh, you relented. "Fine. But you two are responsible for feeding it, walking it, and cleaning up after it. Understand?"

The room erupted into cheers as Gojo and your child exchanged triumphant glances. The puppy, sensing the excitement, let out an enthusiastic bark, its tail wagging furiously.

You couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding before you. Maybe adding a new member to the family wouldn't be so bad after all.

As the days passed, you found yourself growing increasingly fond of the newest addition to your family. The puppy, named Mochi by your child, brought a sense of joy and excitement into your home. From playful romps in the backyard to cozy cuddles on the couch, Mochi quickly wormed his way into your heart.

And as for Gojo and your child? Well, they proved to be surprisingly adept at caring for their furry friend. Sure, there were the occasional mishaps—like the time Mochi managed to chew through an entire roll of toilet paper—but overall, they took their responsibilities seriously.

Watching the three of them together, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected surprise that had brought so much happiness into your life. Who knew that a simple walk around the block could lead to such a delightful addition to your family?

As Mochi curled up at your feet, content and sleepy after a long day of play, you couldn't imagine your life without him. And as you glanced over at Gojo and your child, who were currently engaged in a spirited game of fetch, you knew that this impromptu decision had been the best one yet.

[ggomos-maribat]

Double Lives

Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.

He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.

But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?

He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.

He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.

Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.

“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”

“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—

But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.

Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”

“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.

Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”

“You hit yourself?”

She nodded meekly.

Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.

He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”

She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.

“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”

The silence between them was thick.

“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”

“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”

She cursed in French under her breath.

“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”

She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.

He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.

But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.

***

One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.

“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.

“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”

“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”

Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.

His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”

“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”

“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”

Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.

“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”

He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.

The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.

Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.

Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”

Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”

“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”

“You could . . . tell him that?”

She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”

It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.

“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “

Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”

Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”

Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.

Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”

Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.

It ticked too many boxes.

He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.

“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.

“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”

Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.

Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”

“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.

He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”

“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”

Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.

“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”

“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”

“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”

“No . . .”

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”

She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”

“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”

She tilted her head. “Huh?”

It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.

He was such an idiot.

“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”

Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.

He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”

He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.

He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.

“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”

Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.

"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.

"Leave us." He glared.

"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.

"Leave. Us."

Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.

"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."

"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."

***

Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.

Of course she was Ladybug.

Of course she was a hero.

So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.

Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.

“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.

(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)

And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.

“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.

Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.

“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.

“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”

“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.

“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.

“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”

“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.

“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.

Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”

“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.

Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.

“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.

“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.

“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.

“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”

“W---What?”

Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.

She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”

Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.

And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.

Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (13) - Tempest

Chapter summary: A much needed conversation takes place... as well as a realisation that might change everything.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Mentions of trauma.

Word count: 4.6k

Series masterlist . AO3

There was a crack on the ceiling.

A deep scowl settled on your face as you lay sprawled along the large bed, staring at the lightning-like fissure that had caught your attention.

How deep did it run? Had it been there all along? You wouldn't know. After all, you seldom spent time in this room.

His room.

Astarion had never shown interest in moving in with you and the others. He kept to himself and rushed to find accommodation at The Blushing Mermaid. You couldn't really fault him for wanting to keep to himself.

But you still kept this room vacant just in case he changed his mind.

He never did.

Little did you know that it would be a myriad of unfortunate events that had hurled him into this very room.

Until a few nights ago.

He left before you could convince him otherwise. 

Guilt had been boiling in the pit of your stomach ever since, but you had come to accept that some things were out of your control.

The house confinement had been lifted after much insistence on Wyll's part. It no longer seemed appropriate, yet he promised to keep Fists nearby just in case.

Still, Astarion was now free to do as he saw fit.

Wyll had met up with him and he was seemingly doing well.

Seemingly.

The events of that night kept on flashing in your mind, as you sought to find a rational explanation to what could have caused him to stare at you the way he had.

Revulsion.

Disgust.

Had you taken it too far? Maybe you should have suggested for him to feed on you. Maybe you shouldn't have been brought up that night.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

You could go on forever, going over countless possibilities, but you were not inside his head.

Only he had the answers to your questions.

This was the logical side of you urging your mind to make peace with what is out of your control.

But your heart still clenched and ached and hurt.

Your feelings had been severed from all logic.

You still felt the need to go through that event, desperate to find solace.

That maybe this, too, would pass.

Maybe.

And just as always, a tear detached from the corner of your eye and streamed downwards, leaving a familiar wet trail in its wake.

Glancing around, you could still see so much of him everywhere.

His embroidery set, his books, his shirts, some of his vials of poison.

Even his scent lingered.

You hadn't even bothered drawing the curtains and letting the sun or moon in.

It was as if he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

You heaved a deep sigh as you mustered the strength and will to shift your focus on what you could control.

The crack on the ceiling stared at you and you stared back at it, eventually deciding you should do something about it.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you placed both hands on your hips with newfound determination.

This you could fix.

Maybe.

The door was open, and you yelped in surprise as you saw movement in the corner of your eye.

Wyll was leaning against the doorframe with folded arms and the same kind and soft expression he always held around you.

“I didn't mean to scare you.”

You ran your hands along the silky fabric of the nightdress to adjust it before slipping into your robe, tying it snugly around your waist.

“Oh, I was simply distracted.” you blurted out, hurriedly wiping the wetness from your face.

An understanding smile curved his lips. “I knew I'd find you in his room.”

“It's not his room,” you immediately said. “Well – not really,” you added, fearing you had come across as too harsh.

He arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

Your gaze landed on the ceiling once more. “There's a crack on the ceiling.”

He slowly joined your side and followed your line of sight. “So there is.”

“I need to fix it.”

“You? Now? Do you think the ceiling is giving in?”

You stared at him, perplexed. “What?”

“Do you think it poses danger?” he asked, his eyes on you. “It is quite small.”

There was an argument to be made that the size of things seldom mattered.

Tiny cracks could make way to bigger ones.

Tiny cracks could still hurt.

They could still inflict damage.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched. “Are you well?”

“Yes. Quite.”

An obvious lie you hadn't bothered to flesh out.

He didn't look convinced in the slightest, but didn't press things further.

You enjoyed that about Wyll. He knew exactly when silence was the best and more adequate answer. Sometimes, words just weren't enough.

Eventually, you cleared your throat. “I assume you're not here just visiting.”

“You caught me,” he said playfully, hands laced behind his back. “I come bearing news.”

From the way his face had faintly dropped, you could immediately tell your mood was about to shift in an unwanted direction.

“Ava?”

He nodded. “We still haven't been able to tie her to anything as of yet.”

You felt your stomach clench with dread. “It can't be… she has to be involved somehow.”

“I agree. I have the finest inquisitors trying to break through her facade – if she has one.”

There had to be something.

She had to be responsible.

“What about Rob Sorel? Surely he can be of help.”

A scowl twisted his face. “Nothing as of yet. He has a solid alibi that he insists on roping her into. Besides, he's an established patriar of the city, there is only so much pressure we can apply before tensions rise amongst the noblemen.”

A shaky sigh rushed past your lips. 

Wyll was stuck between a rock and hard place, no doubt. On one hand, he sought to act dutifully and according to his moral code. On the other hand, he was far from being impartial in the matter, and his friendship towards both you and Astarion could be seen as a compromising factor.

“How much time do we have until you have to set them free?”

“Maybe one more day,” he said. “Rob Sorel is the tricky part here. Ava has no power, but he does. He has connections that extend far beyond our reach, and if they take notice that he's imprisoned, it might trigger unforeseeable consequences.”

You began pacing around the room, urged by your nervousness and frustration.

“What of Waterdeep?”

Wyll followed your every move with his eyes. “Gale has yet to encounter anything suspicious that could be tied to her.”

You slumped into a nearby chair and pressed your face into the palms of your hands, letting out a growl. “I am not wrong about this,” you said almost pleadingly, lips quivering. “Wyll. I am not wrong. She – there is something wrong with her. Astarion…”

Your voice trailed off at the mention of his name in your mouth.

It hurt.

A painful jab in your chest rendered you silent, and you lowered your face, anticipating tears of frustration.

Wyll rushed to your side, placing a comforting hand atop your head, patting it gently.

“We will figure this out. You have my word.”

His word held weight. You knew of this. If there was anyone in Baldur's Gate whose word was worth gold, it was Wyll's.

But… “It is not fair. It is not fair that now he doesn't want to pursue this anymore… because of her.”

Wyll dropped to one knee, eye-levelling with you. “Astarion is stronger than we give him credit for, and he is free to choose his own path.”

“What if it's the wrong one?”

“You can't decide that for him,” Wyll reasoned, taking your hand in his. “All we can do now is give him time and respect that.”

Astarion needed time and you needed to find a way to make that realisation less agonising. 

You wanted nothing more than to be a comforting presence to him, but surely not at the expense of his well-being.

Breaking into a sob, you managed to stare into his eyes. “How is he doing?”

Wyll offered the warmest smile. “I believe he is doing well – within reason, that is. He was spotted hunting in the outskirts of the city before I got here.”

That should have put your mind at ease, but it only seemed to make matters worse.

“It's not enough… boars and deers and carrion cannot satiate him as thinking creatures do.”

His hand tightened around yours and his face was firm. “Are you referring to yourself?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I do not mean to pry on your relationship with him, but you're a dear friend of mine,” he began. “I am aware you want to help him get through his hunger, but you don't have to.”

Immediately, you pulled your hand from his grasp as if burned.

You didn’t need to be scolded on this.

“Don’t. Do not do this.”

Wyll fell silent, but there was a hint of sadness sprawled across his features.

Then it quickly dawned on you how unfair you were being towards him. 

“I apologise… you mean well, I know.”

Ever courteous, Wyll shook his head. “I overstepped a line. You care deeply for him and the bond you two share is foreign to me.”

This time, you took his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Wyll also possessed a heart of gold that few could rival with. He never hesitated to take a step back if he believed to be in the wrong.

And he wasn't.

“No, you're right. You're merely looking out for a friend.”

“For both of you, actually,” he promptly corrected. “I care for both of you and I would detest for you to part ways unless as a last resort.”

You inhaled sharply. “We'll figure things out… hopefully.”

Were you trying to convince Wyll or yourself?

He rose to his full height, pulling you up with him. “If there is someone who can figure things out, it's you.”

How you wished that was so, but you accepted his words with a sincere smile.

“Do not fight me on this,” he said, playfully jabbing a finger into your shoulder. “You brought us all together

“It was only possible because of everyone's commitment,” you said truthfully. “Do not fight me on this.”

Wyll chuckled as you used his words against him, raising both hands. “Very well, very well.”

You looped your arm around his, allowing yourself to feel lighter and push the fear and concern aside even if just for a moment.

“It's quite late. You can stay over,” you offered kindly as the two of you headed downstairs.

He patted your hand. “Ah, I would gladly take up that offer, but duty calls.”

“At this hour?”

“The city never sleeps, my dear friend.”

It had to be an exhausting job more often than not, especially with all the unpredictability that came with it.

As you reached the kitchen, you were greeted by a couple of flickering candle lights spread across the room, providing just enough clarity for you to reach the front door.

Your arm slipped from his and you pulled him into a hug, which he reciprocated.

“Take care,” he said, patting your back lovingly. “We'll stay in touch.”

You nodded, fighting back the tears that had begun to prickle at your eyes.

When he finally pulled away, you realised that if Astarion had been there, he would have teased you to death about Wyll.

Alas…

With a final nod, he went out into the cool night, categorically greeted by two Fists that awaited him outside, ready to escort him back.

Just as you were about to close the door shut, Shadowheart's low voice was heard.

“Are you well? Was it a nightmare?”

You turned to face her. “Oh, no. Wyll dropped by to say that they might not be able to hold Ava as a prisoner for much longer.”

It was interesting that despite the abrupt departure from Astarion, you had been able to sleep undisturbed. Not a single nightmare or bizarre dream had plagued your subconscious ever since.

Granted, you had been using the lavender oil Shadowheart had gifted you, but its effectiveness was still debatable.

She grimaced, adjusting her own robes, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Snivelling little cockroach,” she said with a hiss. “There must be a way to catch her in a lie.”

It was far too late and you were far too exhausted to pursue this matter once again.

You needed to step out and catch some fresh air.

“I'll be in the backyard.”

Shadowheart's quick steps drew near. “Do you want some company?”

“I'd rather be by myself, if that's alright.”

She nodded, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.”

Slipping past the open door, you made your way around the house and towards the back garden that Gale took pride in keeping luscious and vibrant.

You hadn't told any of them what had happened between you and Astarion a few nights ago.

They knew something had happened, but didn't press you for details, which you were thankful for. They assumed he had parted from the group again because of the whole Ava ordeal and that he needed to process things.

But you knew it was related to you. You knew deep inside you that something within him had been triggered and it made your heart clench knowing you were probably the root cause of it.

The gentle night breeze rushed past your cheeks, as you hurried along, barefoot and with only a thin robe to keep any semblance of heat close to your body.

The grass crunched softly under your feet and you only came to a halt once you found yourself surrounded by countless flowerbeds of all shapes and sizes.

You took a deep breath, calmness filling your lungs as the soothing scent of grass and pollen wafted around you.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for now.

The crickets were in full force tonight which only added to the magical ambiance.

For the first time in what seemed like too long, you smiled widely.

You wrapped the robe around you tightly as you sat on the wooden bench by the impressive row of night orchids.

Mindlessly, your hand reached down and you plucked a wilted flower bud that had certainly gone past its time.

It was still as radiant as ever in hues of dark blue and purple.

You twirled the stem in between your fingers as you glanced up to admire the glinting stars high up above, sprawled across the sky.

Bathed in moonlight and surrounded by calm and quiet, you pulled your legs up and pressed them against your chest, resting your chin on your knees.

You vaguely wished you could freeze this moment in time and take in all the beauty that surrounded all of you.

“It's quite a sight.”

You jolted in your seat at the sound of a velvety voice.

Astarion.

Your eyes found his crimson ones in the dark of night, and an overwhelming urge to bolt straight into his arms nearly took over.

But your mind held you back, rooting you in place as you watched him approach.

“The stars, I mean,” he added with a purr, glancing upwards at the starry night sky.

The playful jab didn't go amiss and you felt a faint smile tugging at your lips.

He had uttered that same remark many moons ago, teasing you for entering his field of vision.

And now here he was, entering yours and capturing your attention like he had the first time.

It was as if the very sight of him was a force of nature that slammed mercilessly against your chest, robbing you of air.

Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear each heavy beat in your ears.

You leaned back, taking in the full sight of him.

He looked… well.

He looked fed.

He looked like himself.

But there was this aura about the way he slowly moved that indicated something was amiss.

Silently, he sat next to you, far enough that your heart skipped a fleeting beat.

Should you say something? Ask something? Should you wait for him? 

Astarion eventually turned to stare at you. “It's quite cold tonight yet you're out here wearing nothing but your paper-thin nightdress and an equally useless robe.”

You opened your mouth, but you just couldn't speak.

He slipped the thick cloak off his shoulders and draped it over yours with a click of his tongue.

“You were never one to properly look after yourself, but, darling… do not get sick on me,” he finished with what seemed to be a genuine teasing smile.

Words were stuck in your throat. The fear and dread that you might utter something wrong completely froze you in place.

He looked and talked like your Astarion.

But was he truly being himself?

His gaze dropped to the flower in your hand and he tugged it free from your grip, inspecting it closely.

“Ah, flowers… beautiful, but–”

“–they make for lousy poisons,” you completed, voice coming out raspy.

Another genuine smile ghosted his lips. “Yet it would look even more beautiful on you,” he said, his hand reaching out to tuck the stem behind your ear. “As most things do.”

“Astarion…” you said, swallowing hard.

“I meant every word.”

He was overcompensating and deflecting.

Your heart sank.

It wasn’t that he didn’t mean what he was saying, but you could tell this was an attempt at mending things between you without quite addressing the issue.

And he clearly realised you had seen right through him as he sighed. “Alright, alright… we do need to talk, don't we?”

You nodded silently.

A shiver ran through your body and it wasn't due to the cold breeze.

It was the gripping fear that whatever came next might break your spirit.

He fixed his stare somewhere in the distance before speaking again, “I apologise for leaving so hurriedly that night. I… supposed I got carried away and it felt rather overwhelming.”

Your mouth had dried up. “What did I do wrong?”

This time, he turned his head to fully face you, a sliver of confusion twisting his pleasant features. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me – my head – that got in the way.”

You didn’t believe him.

“You were talking to me and suddenly it was as if I had said something horrifying,” you whispered, doing your best to keep your tone steady. “It was me… it was something I said.”

He paused for a moment. “It is not your fault that this happens. I need you to understand that. Please.”

A lump formed in your throat but you swallowed it right away, not wanting to be bound to silence.

This conversation was long overdue.

“Can I be honest?”

He quickly nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

You collected yourself and your heart. “I don't know how to help you… I don't know what to do…” you said truthfully, lacing your fingers together and unable to face his piercing eyes. “I don't want to be too much… I don't want to trigger you. I do–”

Astarion cut you off immediately. “Look at me. Please.”

He waited for you to do so and only then did he proceed. “There was a time I cursed from having a wriggling worm inside my head. Little did I know that that was the least of my problems. And this is my problem. Not yours.”

You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep it from quivering.

He suddenly looked weary, running a hand along his face. “I am tired – exhausted to have my mind holding my body back. There are times when I can go through with it… and it's mostly thanks to you and your patience.”

There was a part of you that was relieved that he wasn't upset with you.

But a more vicious part of you rose a voice inside your head, telling you he was merely doing damage control.

That he just wanted you for your blood.

“What's that look on your face?” he asked, sounding hurt. “You do not believe me?”

You pushed the mocking voice away and blinked. “No – I just… Astarion… I don't know what to do. I don't. I want to be here for you, but I keep fearing we're pushing it.”

He pressed his lips into a fine line, brows knitted together.

Your legs dropped and you straightened yourself with a sigh, the sudden movement causing the orchid to drop from behind your ear and onto the ground.

“What can I do? How can I help?”

He looked almost offended for a brief moment, but his features eased before he spoke, “I don't want you to treat me like a glasshouse. I don't want pity or mercy. I want whatever you are willing to give me.”

Your heart was beating faster than ever. “And what do you need?”

Silence.

Astarion kept mixing want with need and it often landed him in less than ideal situations.

“To finally be free. I believed facing Cazador and destroying him would grant me freedom, but there is no worse cage than your own mind.”

Now, that was an answer that made your eyes widen. 

Ava had once uttered similar words.

In truth, you expected him to make it all about you, but his words lifted a weight off your shoulders.

But there was still doubt in your mind.

“I can and will be here for you,” you said firmly. “But I need you to promise me something.”

He nodded.

“Please let me know whenever I say or do something that hurts you. That night–”

He held one hand up,  effectively silencing you. “That night was different. It was the timing of it all that caused me to…”

His voice faltered.

You waited for him to find it again.

And he did. “I don't want our relationship to revolve around some silly arrangement to keep me in line. As much as I crave your blood more than anything else, I do not wish for this to feel like a transaction.”

“I've always made it clear that I more than willingly give it to you.”

“Yet my mind tells me I am using you.”

It was as if someone had thrusted a knife into your heart. “Astarion – what? You… you're not.”

The mocking voice inside your head laughed loudly, making your shudder.

“Then don't offer me your blood,” he said. “Feeding on you has become tainted. For now… I can't do it.”

He's a liar. He's used you before and he's playing mind games again.

“You can feed again whenever you're ready,” you said, finding a way to voice your thoughts in the midst of the negativity that had such a tight hold on you. “I know wildlife isn't enough.”

Astarion’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you.”

You nodded.

He didn't know how close you were to breaking into tears. Not from what he was saying, but from the vitriol that your own mind was spewing in regards to him.

He wasn't inside your head, but you were.

And it was awful.

Still, you fought through it. You had to. “I'm here for you.”

You felt his cool fingers brush against yours.

“You don't have to be.”

One by one, your fingers laced with his and you realised your hand was freezing from the cool night air.

But you could still feel his touch.

You could still feel him.

“We can stay as friends.”

Astarion let out a growl of sheer frustration. “Why must you insist on this? Does it truly matter if we are friends or lovers or whatever other social construct you think we should fall under?”

His grip tightened around you, in a silent plea. 

“We're… us. No one is like us,” he went on. “We don't need labels or to follow any relationship rules that some drunkard shoved into a book.”

His last remark earned a chuckle from you, but mostly because he was so right.

“We're us.” you repeated.

“Yes. Whatever that entails. As long as you're comfortable with me, we're us.” 

Slowly but surely, your heartbeat slowed down, falling into a steady rhythm.

“I want you to be comfortable with me, too,” you said. “Just promise to let me in. If you need time and space, I will respect that, just… don't vanish.”

Silly girl, he'll break your heart again, the voice mocked.

“I promise.”

The two of you leaned back against the wooden bench, still quite far apart, but not letting go of each other's hands.

You felt so light it was almost if the faintest of breezes could carry you away, floating across the field of flowers.

But even if it were so, you doubted he'd let go of your hand.

You'd remain anchored to him.

For better or for worse.

You'd either float or sink with him.

You liked the options, because now they existed. Before this conversation, all you had was the impending feeling that the tiniest of cracks would tear through your relationship, and that it would sink.

Now, you had hope.

After a while, you spoke again, “What now?”

His thumb caressed yourse absentmindedly. “What do you mean?”

“We're at a standstill. The Ava situation… finding a way for you to walk in the sun. We're rooted in place, it seems.”

Somehow, he managed a chuckle. “You and I made progress, did we not? Even at the expense of everything else. Isn't that worth something?”

You found him staring at you with those crimson eyes of his and that genuine smirk that always got to you.

“I suppose. You're right… yet I can't help but feel sorry that you seem to be the one with much more to lose.”

He squeezed your hand playfully, earning a gasp from you. “Darling, you don't get it, do you? I've spent hundreds of years unable to form a single bond with anyone that didn't feel tainted or doomed. Until you came along. You and that bleeding heart of yours. If there is a price to be paid for a single meaningful relationship, I'll pay it.”

Your heart clenched and the first tears began to stream down your face.

You adored him.

In that moment, you wished to melt into his embrace.

“Besides, nothing is over yet. We're quite terrific at turning the impossible into possible.”

You chuckled, eyes welling up with more tears. He shifted closer to you, letting go of your hand and brushing both thumbs across your cheeks to wipe them clean.

“There is one regret I have, though.”

A jab of fear poked at you. “What is it?”

He cradled your face in his hands. “You're so cold right now and I cannot warm you up.”

You felt as though you might melt into his touch.

“Is that your only regret?” you asked playfully.

He shook his head. “I suppose not. Striking a deal with Ava might top this.”

Your face dropped instantaneously.

“Oh, I've ruined the moment, haven't I?”

“Maybe,” you said softly as he pulled back. “But we'll get through this. Whether you decide to pursue the Wish spell or not, I am here for you. We are here for you.”

He looked peaceful.

You hadn't seen that expression in a while.

“I remember Ava once saying that pursuing the Wish spell was folly. That I either wished to be cured from vampirism altogether, or that I'd end up some weirdly washed out version of a vampire spawn.”

Oh.

And then your heart plummeted as realisation hit you.

How did you not see this before?

“Astarion?”

“Hmm? What?”

Once again, your heart raced in your chest. “Astarion… who would benefit from you not having your vampirism meddled with?”

He arched an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Dread took over you and flinched away from his grip, bolting to your feet. “By preventing you from getting access to the Wish spell, you remain a spawn… untouched… your blood…”

Astarion's eyes widened.

“Shit.”

TBC

[radiance1]

Vlad was having a good day, a fine day.

Finally having put his obsession with Maddie to rest, nothing at Vladco big enough to need his immediate attention, and no Jack Fenton or Jack Fenton like situation to end his peace.

He was sat down at his table, eating the cupcakes he baked earlier with a new recipe and some tea.

It was a good day

Something was going to ruin this. So, he sent out a clone, sent it to one of his cupboards, took out one of his bigger teacups, went to his fridge, poured in some mango juice, took an extra plate, and came right back to the table Vlad was setting at.

It dutifully took a few cupcakes and put it onto the extra plate, placed said plate at the other end of the table and gently rested the teacup down beside it and pulled the chair just enough for another to sit down and returned to the original.

Now he waits.

"VLAD!"

Ah, there it was.

The Jack Fenton like situation that would ruin his day.

Just like his father, the boy for some reason lost his ability to use the very there door and instead busts through the wall right beside said door.

But it wasn't anything he couldn't fix.

He brought the highly expensive and his favorite teacup to his lips, content to enjoy the last dregs of peace he can before the boy opens his mouth-

"VLAD I NEED YOU TO SLEEP WITH SOMEONE!"

Vlad choked.

A few minutes later, after a series of coughs and heaving, he stares at his godson with the most incredulous face he could muster. The brat, being Jack's son, instead of giving him further context decides to eat the cupcakes he made without even asking him.

Barbarians, honestly.

He cleared his throat before the boy could snatch another one of his delicate treats. "Explain yourself, Daniel."

"Hm? Oh, right." Danny swallowed, petting his chest before swiping up a teacup (That was filled with mango juice instead of tea, that Vlad, as an ever-accommodating host, laid out for him a few moments before his arrival.) and taking a giant gulp. Danny then sighed. "I need you to sleep with someone, basically."

"I will need further explanation, if your feeble brain cannot understand that fact," Vlad took a slow sip of his tea, eyes closed and playing every part of the refined high-society member he's crafted for himself over the years. "Then I can and will direct you to the door."

Vlad then glanced at his broken wall. "And for the love of all that is holy, please remember that they exist for a reason."

"Yea yea whatever." Danny waved his off, taking up another cupcake and chewing on it. "Riht so a ned yoz ta-"

"Try again, this time without your mouth full so that I may understand you Daniel."

As Danny swallowed, Vlad took another sip of his tea.

"Right so I need you to sleep with Lex Luthor."

And promptly spat it all out onto both his table and his unfortunate, innocent little cupcakes (Danny managed to move his away from the blast) and doubled over into a coughing fit.

[msgexymunson]

Rumour Part Two: Rose

Description: After hooking up with your hot neighbour, things aren't going as you had hoped. Maybe a note will turn it around for the both of you...

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll put you in detention, Angsty angst, but fluffy, and HELLA SMUT. Sub!fem!younger!reader x older!pierced!dom!eddie, (age gap not problematic) rough sex, oral fem receiving, praise kink, sir kink, pet names

A/N: Please read part 1 first! I'm totally feral for this version of Eddie and apparently you lot are too! Thank you for all your love and support, I really hope you enjoy this!

❤ Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive. If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤

4.6k words

Masterlist   Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Marching home from the bar, arms crossed as a barrier against the chilly air, you huff into the night, sending out a cloud of steamy breath. Your mood at work tonight was frankly diabolical. If you were your own manager you probably would have fired yourself. Dropping glasses, snapping at customers, drifting into day dreams, you were a mess. In the end your boss told you to go home, that your head was clearly not in the game tonight; thankfully treating you better than you would have treated yourself.

Nearing the corner of your street, you stomp along, thinking about the man you couldn't get out of your head for the past six days. The man you were trying to push from your mind unsuccessfully. The man that didn't call. Eddie Munson.

After an evening of frankly mind blowing sex, he took you out on a lunch date. You ate nice food, shared a bottle of wine, and spoke about your interests. You discovered a mutual love for art, and a similar taste in music. He was soft, chatty, funny. Afterwards you had gone for a walk around the park, even held hands. For a moment you really thought you had started to connect with him. Then he'd dropped you back home, told you he was a bit busy for the next couple of days, kissed you on the cheek and disappeared into the wind.

It would have hurt less if he had just left after that night, but the date seemed to go well. The only explanation in your eyes was that he couldn't have liked you after getting to know you. The thought stabbed ice through your heart.

As you approach your building, you see a familiar figure sitting down smoking. You still your movements, trying to collect your feelings and push them down deep inside. Taking a deep breath, you slip on the blankest look you can muster and march straight to your door.

"Hey pretty girl."

No matter how much you try to mask, that gruff voice and those words just do something to you.

"Hey." You throw back, not bothering to look in his direction. You hear the creak of leather as he gets up. Desperately trying to get your keys out of your pocket, you end up dropping them on the floor. Well done. Smooth.

Eddie's closed the distance between you, reaching down to swipe the keys into a large hand. He looms over you, standing close, inches from your shaking form. The atmosphere is stifling, tension in the air laced with your anger.

"Can I have my keys please." Your gaze firmly locked away from him.

Eddie hands them over, but grabs your small hand in his when you try to pull away.

"Can you look at me, sweet thing?" His other hand reaches for your chin to pull your gaze towards him, rough fingers coaxing you. Struggling to resist him when he's in the very air you breathe, you let your eyes meet his.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you, I've just been-"

"-really busy? Yeah." Your tone has venom, it coats each word, leaving your mouth with a bitter taste.

"Look I'm sorry, do you wanna-"

"I've got to go Eddie. I'm super busy." You snatch you hand away from his and take your front door key, jamming it into the lock. Eddie steps back, arms up, giving you space. It takes everything you have not to turn around when you slam the door behind you.

You lean against the door, shaking, biting back the tears that are begging to roll down your cheeks. Hot and flustered, you do your best to calm down and just breathe. You slide your back down the door and sit on the floor with your head in your hands. This is stupid.

Maybe you should have let him explain. What explanation could there be though, after he made you feel like that, then disappeared into the mist?

Lifting your head weakly, you notice a piece of paper folded in half on the welcome mat, seemingly shoved under your door. Curious, you pick it up and open it. It's from him.

Underneath the hastily scrawled note is the most beautiful pencil drawing of a rose you think you've ever seen. It almost looks like you could pluck it off the paper. The detail is simply breath taking; there's even shining dew drops on the velvety looking petals. You're half expecting a floral sweet scent to roll off of it.

Hey sweet thing, sorry I've not called. You must be at work. Knock when you get this.

E.M x

p.s. You said you like roses, I drew this for you.

Your hand flies to your mouth, shocked at the sheer beauty and intricacy of it. What's more, is that you're not even sure you remember when you told him roses were your favourite flower. It can't have been recently.

Shame drips down your throat and into your gut at how you'd greeted him earlier. Determined to resolve this before it goes any further you stand up and make your way back outside. Eddie's chair is empty. Taking a deep breath, you steel your nerves, walk across the courtyard and knock on his door.

It swings open a crack, and then all the way. Eddie stands in the doorway shirtless, tattoos strewn across his chest, messy hair loose and wild. His sweat pants are hanging low on his hips, cut groin and hip bones on display, his dark thatch of hair leading down drawing your eye. You take a shaky breath in; realising you're staring, your eyes snap up to meet his.

He looks from your face, down to your hand still gripping his drawing.

"So, you got my note huh." Flashing you a small smile.

Throwing your arms around his neck you kiss him hard. He staggers, taken aback by the gesture, but only for a moment. Then his hand is on your lower back, the other in your hair, as his tongue flicks across your bottom lip begging. You submit, his probing tongue dipping deep into your mouth, saying everything his note did not. You feel the steel of his piercing rub against your tongue, massaging in the kiss. Pressing up against him it's impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his sweat pants forced against your beating core.

You both break from the kiss, eyes seeking each others.

"I'm sorry-"

You laugh, speaking in unison. He presses hot, hard kisses to your lips, tongue running down your neck, beginning to bite and suck. Moaning, your nails dig into his back.

Eddie breaks away from you, leaving you pouting, neck stretching towards his perfect mouth, chasing the feeling.

"Listen, as much as this is incredible, can I talk to you?"

Taking gasping breaths you try and steady yourself.

"Yeah, sure." Still focusing on pacifying your breathing.

He takes your arm and leads you inside, gesturing to the couch. Taking a seat you glance around the room. It's a mess; not exactly dirty but there's things everywhere. Several guitars and amps lean haphazardly on the walls. A tower of books threatens to spill over the side of the coffee table. A few empty beer bottles sit in various states on the counter top. There's a desk, covered in writing and drawing implements, more books open around paper pads, you assume for reference purposes. You don't see many photographs around which seems strange to you. The only framed picture on the wall is a younger Eddie with an older man, balding in a checked shirt, maybe his father? There's another frame on the window ledge which you can't make out much detail from, looks like a crowd of teenage boys.

Eddie sits beside you, hand resting on your knee. When he speaks his voice is brimming with emotion, something you're entirely unready for.

"Listen, I just wanted to explain. I really like you. It's just," he pauses, staring at the corner of the room, lips pressed together, "I'm not used to this. Any of this. I'm not exactly seen as boyfriend material, you know?" He laughs softly at that, eyes seeking yours. You nudge him with your hand, willing him to continue, fingers tracing encouraging circles on his thigh.

"People see me as a one and dump. I've gotten used to it, not many wanted me my whole damn life. Meeting you, and getting along, outside of sex, I just- I was scared."

His doe eyes meet yours and you melt. The strong, confident man has melted away, exposing the soft, tender boy in front of you.

Clambering onto his lap, you stroke his stubbly cheek.

"I don't see you like that." Locking eyes for a second, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his full lips. His eyes close, kissing you back gently, mouths moving in sync. His hands stroke delicately down your sides, so much so that you twitch.

"Sorry, that tickles," you breathe out, wiggling away from his attention.

"Oh, ticklish eh?" He grins deviously, fingers tracing agonising patterns in your sides.

You giggle, bucking out your hips, trying to escape from the feeling. Reaching out your own fingers you dig into his sides trying to get your own back.

"Oh sweet thing you're really in for it now!" Before you can understand what's happening you're on the floor, Eddie pinioning you to the carpet. Hands held above your head, his whole body weight is keeping you in place.

"OK you win, please sir let me go!" You tease.

Eddie's irises shrink back, pupils blown, predatory gaze roaming over your features.

"Oh now that's not fair pretty girl." He bends forward, large hand encompassing your wrists, kissing and suckling at your exposed flesh.

It takes a second, but then it hits you.

"Sir please."

Eddie groans into your neck; his hard length pressing forcefully into your core.

For confirmation, you cant help but play into it further.

"Oh please, please Sir, please let me go!" Smirking, bucking into the air.

The noise that leaves Eddie's throat is gravelly and animalistic, grinding into you with abandon, hand holding you tight by the wrists. Your giggles have transformed into moans, pulse travelling to your heat.

His hand roams from your wrists to pull your top over your head, exposing your bare chest. Eddie wastes no further time in licking down to your exposed breasts, tongue trailing to your nipples.

"I thought you were a good girl, sweet thing," and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. The swirl of his thick tongue around your sensitive buds makes you wail, hips humping up to meet his. He sucks onto your exposed nipples hard, the feeling sending bolts of arousal through your chest, massing in your stomach.

"Please Eddie." All confidence stripped from you now that you're squirming beneath him, rough stubble from his chin abrading your delicate skin.

Unlatching from your chest he draws level with your face. The dark, steely glint in his eyes makes your cunt throb. His breath fans across your face; the smell of Eddie's skin permeating all of your senses.

"That's not what you called me before."

A rugged hand enwraps your neck, squeezing softly at the sides, almost a threat. The rough touch makes you whimper. He's not constricting your airway, just letting you know whose in charge. As if there was any doubt.

"Please sir."

His eyes close as he grunts, suddenly pulling off of you. He rips the fastenings of your jeans open with an unruliness that has your cunt clenching, attempting to drag them off your legs along with your underwear. Eddie realises too late you've still got your shoes on and you huff a laugh at his obvious frustration. The laugh dies in your throat however when he uses brute force to pull your trainers off your feet, ignoring the laces. You whine at the display of strength, arousal gripping you so tightly that you feel it in your bones.

Laying on the carpet fully nude under his powerful gaze, you attempt to shy away but Eddie stops you immediately with a simple wave of his hand. He rubs at your sides, taking a moment to stare at your naked form shamelessly. You don't think anyone has ever looked at you this way, with such need, wanting you this hard.

"You're really fuckin' beautiful, you know that?"

You flush at the attention, cheeks burning. His fingers smooth down to your slit, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

Without warning he flips you over, pulling a shocked yelp from you. Rough hands grab your hips, manhandling you exactly where he wants you, dragging your ass closer to him.

You jump slightly at the first contact of his swollen cock, feeling the rub of steel from his piercing drag back and forth over your folds collecting your slick.

"You ready sweet thing?"

"Mmm please-"

He starts pushing into you and you gasp; you'd nearly forgotten how big he was. The push into you continues, his girth making you bite your lip, dragging against your slick walls. He wholly sheathes himself in you and you stretch around him, filling you completely; heart, soul and cunt, belonging to him.

Eddie's warm, firm hand strokes down your spine, coming to rest on your hip, thumbs rubbing into the doughy flesh, fingers gripping possessively.

He bends over you, messy hair trailing tickles on your shoulder, gruff whisper in your ear.

"You ok sweet thing?"

Your cunt is already twitching, zaps of pleasure dancing through your insides at each flutter of your walls.

Breathlessly you manage "yes, please, fuck me sir."

Eddie growls "fuck."

He ploughs into you, setting a gut-wrenching pace, slick sex sounds slapping through the apartment. Your arm grazes the coffee table and a pile of books tumbles down. You see a flash of a dragon on the cover of one. The carpet digs into your palms and knees.

"Fuckin' hell sweets, so tight, fuck."

A flash flood of passion flows through you, expunging any discomfort at his size.

Brutal moans blossom from deep in your chest, long and drawn out, shaking in pitch from each thrust of Eddie's hips. You feel Eddie's hard member persistently hitting deep inside, hard ball of metal from his dick piercing amplifying every move. Your high hits you quickly and without warning, a lightning bolt of pleasure rocketing out of the pit of your stomach, shocking through your entire body. A tsunami of slick arousal rushing from your cunt, nearly pushing out his sizable length from sheer force.

Eddie's groans are guttural, bestial in nature. He roughly pulls you bodily towards him until your back is flush with his sweating heaving chest, pecs flexing. One hand remains digging into your hip continuing his forceful pace, other hand pulling up to your chin, holding your head firmly in place whilst he babbles filth in your ear, making your walls tremble around him.

"Fuck, calling me sir. My good girl's dirty isn't she? My good filthy girl, fuckin' soaking me. Yeah? Pretty little cunt soaking me, oh fuck-"

His thrusts flounder briefly, his climax hitting him harshly, coming deep inside you with a brutish grunt.

Both of his arms wrap around your form, sweating bodies impossibly close, panting, coming back down to earth together. Smooth lips and rough stubble press against your cheek.

You move to pull away from him and the pain in your knees hits you suddenly, buckling to the floor with a rush of air from your lungs. Laying on the floor, boneless and weak, but giggling.

"Shit you ok sweets?" Eddie hovers over your chuckling body.

"Yeah, just my knees are fucked."

"Sorry, probably should have taken you to the bedroom huh." He looks embarrassed, hand stroking the back of his neck.

Scooping you up in his strong arms he places you on the sofa. He strides off, returning with a damp cloth. Tenderly cleaning your core, he moves his attention to your knees.

"How are they now?" Eyes wandering, examining, brimming with concern. The look makes you melt.

"Apart from wicked carpet burn, fine. I think I'll live" chuckling at your own words you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you to deliver a sweet kiss. He pulls himself up to sit on the edge of the sofa and leans down over you, forehead pressed to yours.

"So, am I forgiven?" Smiling with that cocky look of his.

You pretend to think for a moment.

"I suppose. But don't do it again."

"Wouldn't dream of it pretty girl."

********************

It's a couple of weeks later and you're standing in the tattoo shop where Eddie works, marvelling at the artwork on the walls. You hear the incessant sound of a tattoo machine and some generic rock radio playing in the background, other artists busying themselves with their work.

"You sure about this sweet thing?"

"Yeah I'm sure," you say shyly back, nerves getting the best of you.

"Do you see anything you like? Those ones over there are mine, I've got my portfolio too if you wanna-"

"I've already got a design Eddie."

He frowns, clearly not wanting to create someone else's art on your skin. Your cheeks flush, and you pull a piece of paper out of your pocket and wordlessly hand it to him.

It's his note, the beautiful drawing of a rose almost hovering off the paper. The reason you're dating.

Eddie seems taken aback, staring at his drawing as if he were looking at it for the first time.

"Oh pretty girl, are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. Just like that please, it's perfect." You smile at him, your own eyes  betrayed your feelings, glossing over softly.

Smiling back at you, you gaze at each other for a moment.

Eddie coughs and looks away. "You want this in black and grey, or colour?"

"Hmm colour I think would be best."

"And where are we thinking?"

You point to next to your hip bone over your skirt, slightly lower. Eddie glances at the area and runs his tongue over his top lip, steel ball glinting.

"You know, that's a pretty sensitive area. Are you sure that's where you want it?"

You nod, eyes meeting his.

"Ok let's get upstairs, it's a bit more, private."

Leading you to the empty upstairs and across to his workstation, you're pleasantly surprised at how clean and tidy it is. You sit down in the big leather chair whilst Eddie sorts out the stencil and gets the inks ready.

"Ok so do you wanna just pull your skirt down a little or-"

You flip it up instead, given where you wanted it, it seems easier. Eddie's eyes are transfixed on your baby blue panties.

"Eddie..."

"Yeah, shit sorry, ok right here, yeah?" He traces a gloved finger where you pointed. You nod and he pulls the hem of your underwear slightly out of the way, kissing your hip bone.

He preps the area, lays the stencil down and turns the tattoo machine on. The noise buzzes through your jangling nerves making you tense up involuntarily. Eddie strokes your thigh, firm hand coming to rest.

"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt more."

You huff a laugh at the familiar phrase.

"Hmm I think you've said that before, about something else."

Eddie's eyes sparkle impishly at the memory. "Well I was right, wasn't I?"

He leans over to your face, turning the machine off for a second, and whispers, "are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Eddie, I- fuck, don't do that in public!"

He laughs wickedly, flicking the machine back on.

"Just stay still sweet thing, I'm starting now, 'kay?"

When the needle finally hits your flesh you're pleasantly surprised. Oh it hurts, certainly, but not as much as the buzzing made you think it would. It was more annoying than anything, a persistent scratch.

"You good sweets?"

"Yeah that's fine."

He leans over you, using his left hand to steady himself high up on your thigh. Heat is pouring off him, the grip of his fingers occasionally making you want to squirm. You're sure you're getting wetter by the second just by being in close proximity to him. There's something about him concentrating the way he was, entirely oblivious to the world and in his element, that made your heart swell.

Each word of encouragement from him, each check in was making your cunt throb, pulse in your core threatening to make you twitch under him.

"Sitting so still, doing so good for me."

"Atta girl, you taking the pain ok?"

"My sweet thing, doing such a great job."

When the outline is complete, he turns off the machine to check in yet again and you feel like you're ready to explode into a horny mist.

"Sitting so well for me pretty girl. Do you need a break?"

"No I'm good," you manage breathily. His eyebrows raise, taking in your flushed cheeks and wide glassy eyes.

'Are you enjoying this sweets?" Smirking, his eyes flit from your face to your baby blue underwear, smiling wider when he eyes the growing wet patch.

"I don't know, it's just, you're really close to, you know, there," you gesture downwards, flushing even further, "but you're not touching me and you keep praising me and-"

"Well you're taking it so well, being such a good girl for me, I've got to let you know right?" He bites his lip, flashing his teeth deviously.

"Eddie" You squirm in your seat, heat of his gaze too much to take. To your surprise, embarrassed, hot tears are starting to form in your eyes, unable to process so much praise and feeling all at once.

"Shush shush, poor sweet girl, don't cry. We've got the shading to do and then I'll reward you." He winks.

You nod dumbly, wiping tears from your eyes; a subby mess on his words alone.

Eddie gets to work on the colouring and shading, constant praises falling from his perfect lips.

You space out, endless accolades making your head fuzzy, taking you away from the perpetual pain. Little by little the background noises disappear, the radio downstairs switches off and the shop sounds empty.

You hear a disembodied voice from the vicinity of the doorway.

"Eds, I'm leaving now, lock up when you're done!"

"No worries bud!" Eddie shouts back, continuing to focus on the red of the rose.

Pain starts to mount again, relentless rasping of the needle starting to take its toll. You wince, doing your best not to tense. Eddie switches to white for the highlights and you hiss at the touch of the needle.

"Ok pretty girl, I know, nearly done I promise."

You nod, hands balled into little fists.

Finally after what seems like an age of little touch ups Eddie declares he is finished. He helps you up onto wobbly legs whilst you hold your skirt up awkwardly and waddle over to the mirror.

Gawping at your new ink, you gasp in astonishment. It's as if he'd plucked a rose at dawn, sprinkled with morning dew, and laid it carefully on your hip.

"Eddie, its perfect, it's incredible, honestly. Thank you." You can barely believe its real. Turning to Eddie you give him a kiss on his lips, soft and lingering.

"No problem pretty girl. Lay back down lemme wrap it for you."

Hopping back onto the leather chair, you lay back on your elbows, watching him cover your new tattoo with plastic wrap and surgical tape.

"Thank you again, I love it. Shall we go?"

"Oh sweet thing, you're not going anywhere."

You look at him in confusion. He takes his gloves off, hungry eyes transfixed on your heat.

"I've sat here, inches away from this pretty pussy, looking at this cute little wet patch and I can't take it anymore. I can fuckin' smell you sweetheart, it's not fair."

A flush blooms over the apples of your cheeks, thighs clenching at his filthy words.

"Scoot down for me."

You wiggle your hips until you're at the edge of the reclined seat, skirt bunching up in the process. Eddie kneels before you and peels your underwear off, carefully avoiding your new ink. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, leaving the hip with the tattoo alone.

"Now I'm gonna be gentle and you can't move, ok? Don't want you smudging." He winks at his joke and starts pressing delicate kisses over your pussy, hot breath tickling you. His tongue pushes into your folds so slowly, running up and down with a languid place. You moan and shudder at the feeling, intensity magnified by how on edge you'd been, waiting for this for hours. Every agonisingly slow movement sent tingles to your core, warmth spreading to the tips of your toes.

High pitched mewls and whines fill the room when Eddie turns his attention to your clit, teasing it gently with his tongue stud, hard nub sending thrilling tendrils of pleasure deep inside you.

"Eddie, fuck that's so good." You whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

Eddie hums into you, continuing to make out lazily with your cunt, his own moans swallowed up by your heat.

Impossible, unimaginable feeling floods your system; it was as if every nerve was singing, blending together into a choir of pleasure. The intensity, the passion, the emotion he was conveying between your legs was pushing you to a precipice, looking down at your potential release from a dizzying height.

It was all too much. Tears fall down your soft cheeks, utterly caught up in so much feeling.

"Eddie, I can't, its, it's too much-"

Hot breath on your cunt, "it's ok, sweet thing, I've got you, let go."

He takes your clit in between his lips and kisses, and kisses, and kisses. Pressing his tongue to it one final time he suckles softly and pushes you over that edge.

Stars collide. Your release meanders through your very soul, ripping away any semblance of breath, clenching and coming with a silent cry, tears still falling. It flows, collects itself and continues, pleasure in perpetuity, leaving no part of you untouched by its warmth. The feeling finally dissipates, leaving you breathless, thoughtless.

You're not sure how long it took for you to return to yourself, but when you do Eddie's pressing the softest kisses to your cheek, lips, nose, even your eyelids. Your eyes flutter open, wet and glossy, and full of feeling for the man in front of you.

"Hey pretty girl."

"Hey baby." You smile softly.

He grins right back; its the first time you've called him a pet name.

"Stay at mine tonight?"

"I might have to, pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had. I may need a wheelchair."

He laughs, cocky grin firmly in place. "I could carry you to the car if its that bad..."

"I'll manage I'm sure." You get up, wobbly as a baby deer but upright. He steadies you, strange look in his you're not used to.

"Eddie, can you pass me my underwear?"

"What underwear?" He's trying to pull a serious face but his mischievous eyes betray him.

"Eddie!" You hit him on the arm. He just laughs in response.

You huff, and smile, and squeal inside at the sheer joy of the moment.

Masterlist

❤ If you want to be added to my tag list please comment/reblog and say so sweet thing (tag list in comments as it's grown arms and legs) ❤

[kadwrites]

the color green | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you've met tommy's secretary , who has a thing for him.

warnings ; mentions of death (no one dies), my bad writing?? probably typos, arranged marriage trope

a/n ; um idk what to think of this part but lmk what you think of it

-

he just looks back at you, his brow raised ,waiting for an explanation

"what?"

"what did ya say to 'er?"

"nothing, why ? what did she tell you?" you can't help the amused expression on your face, you did try to hold it back.

"she said you and polly cornered 'er"

"what" you let out a small laugh "all we did was speak to 'er, and it was mostly polly. she barely acknowledged me."

"really?"

"yes really."

"did ya tell 'er that we're engaged?" his voice was deep and cold. it sent a familiar chill down your spine.

"why ? did ya not want people to know?"

"answer the question"

"i didn't. polly did." you stare at him for a while, eyes tracing his face with a raised brow "are you fucking 'er?"

he blinks slowly, his demeanor doesn't change "i beg your fucking pardon?"

"ya heard me."

"no."

you study his face "we didn't say anything to 'er, polly asked 'er if she knew who i was, she looked me up and down like i was some whore and then almost cried when she found out you and i are engaged. thats it."

"we're not engaged yet."

"we are, according to your aunt. so if ya 'ave any fucking complaints , ya might want to take it up with 'er."

you try to walk past him, deciding that storming off is the best way out of this ,

"and how do ya think youre gettin' back home? polly is gone"

you freeze, stopping in place when you hear that, and he turns, just staring at your back.

"walking exists , ya know?" you turn as well to face him, you try to maintain the most confident expression you could muster

"you're gonna walk back? to your father's house? at this time?"

you just nod,

"no you're not"

"yes i am."

"no."

"why not?"

"what kind if fiancé would i be if i let ya walk home in the dark?." his voice is sarcastic

you just raise your brow again, "i thought we weren't engaged."

"go to my office, i'll drive ya home in a minute."

"ya don't 'ave to, i don't want your charity."

"go to my fucking office, y/n."

you mumble curses under your breath as you stride through and to his office, you open the glass door and plop down on the chair facing his desk. you can see the sectary's silhouette from the corner of your eyes. she's sitting on a desk outside his office and you walked by without sparing her a glance. you can feel her stare burn through you.

the door opens again and he walks in, and sits on his desk

"are we goin' to stay here long? cause i can call oliver to come and get me."

he looked up from the papers he was holding and his stare made you look away. okay maybe you'll let him drive you home.

the secretary knocks and walks in "i just need your signature on this form sir." she walks to his desk and gets as close as appropriately possible.

" y've met my fiancée then, miss carter?" he asks the secretary without looking at her

"i.." she stands straight and glances at you "i did , yes i did."

he looks up at her briefly "she might be comin' here more often now, so please make 'er feel at home whenever im not around."

"of course, sir." she smiles sweetly at him before grabbing the paper and walking out of the office.

you raise your brows, a small smirk on your lips "oh im your fiancée now , aye?"

he doesn't answer you, but you see the corners of his lips curl.

you stifle back a yawn as you sit on the sofa , trying to not to nod off. its the middle of the night and your brother had woken you up. safe to say tonight was not a night you've expected and its yet to end.

"how did ya even know about this?" you nod towards abraham who had a cup of tea in his hand

"mum called" he muttered as he handed you a cup as well

"its just a cold , ya know that? , ya didn't 'ave to leave anna and come all the way here."

"it's dad, i couldn't just sleep after 'earing mum cry about 'im"

"she cries about everything" you say with a sigh as you take a sip of your tea

the living room as dark except for a small lamp that was next to you

"did she call celest and oliver?"

"i think so, but they'll probably come by in the mornin'."

you hear your mothers sniffles as she leaves her and your father's bedroom.

"hes asking for you."

you and abraham look at each other before you put your tea cup down and get up from the sofa.

"come in"

you walk in and close the door behind you gently. your dad is propped up with a pillow behind him, you approach the bed and get on it, laying next to him

"ya better not give me another one of your speeches dad." you feign annoyance but your smile gives you away.

he lets out a laugh then turns to you "i'm an old man ya know, i 'ave to make sure i say everything i need to say before i leave ya."

"y've got a cold dad, its not the plaque " you chuckle as you turn to look at him too.

when you were a child, your father would never sleep if you got sick, he would stay up. sometimes fall asleep beside you, or on the uncomfortable hard wooden chair he'd drag next to your bed.

he would put his head on your heart sometimes late at night anxiously, scared it might've stopped when he accidentally drifted off to sleep.

"listen to me love..." his hands intertwine with yours, his hands calloused from all the days he's spent caring for the soil, or in the war that you never thought would end. "i need to talk about this."

you hum, your hand holding his tightly in yours.

"i'm sorry it had to come to this my love,"

its not another one of his speeches, its a different kind of speech.

"dad..."

"when your mother first told me about this, i thought she was jokin, honest to god" he lets out another laugh "but now..... when i think about it , i cant let ya do that to yerself love..." he shakes his head slightly,

"what?" your eyes look up at him, taking in his features , his dark under eyes, the lines on his face, around his eyes.

"i saved some money yeah? , for when me and your mother might need it. ya can 'ave it." his voice drops to a lower tone

"and do what ?"

"run away."

"run away?" you laugh softly, looking at him with a raised brow "and go where?"

"where ever you want." he smiles softly at you

"you're not serious."

"i am"

you stay silent for a while, processing what he's saying "im not runnin' away dad."

"so you're gonna marry tommy shelby? is that what ya want ? what ya truly want?"

"its what i need to do"

"ya don't"

"so you're gonna go back on your word ,aye? ya gave the man a word after all"

"for you , id break every promise ive ever made."

"dad..." you let out a small smile , his other hand goes to cup your face "i cant do that"

"are ya scared id hate ya? or that id be angry at ya if ya didn't?"

"i cant runaway dad... i cant leave ya" your emotions betray you and they flood through you, your tears start to drop. i cant not be here when you die, when you're buried.

"sometimes i cant believe you're all grown up now,"

"hmm"

"ya were such a lively child"

"you're sayin' im borin' now aye?"

you two share a small laugh, you turn your face and kiss his palm, before closing your eyes "id put myself through anything and everything to keep ya with me for however long i can."

-

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 13 - "Come with me, hurry."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

Duke didn't know what was happening anymore right now. All he knew was that it had started with simply wanting to help someone. Or rather even sooner, with having been forcefully paired up with the new transfer student that everyone for some reason avoided.

The new transfer student, Danny Nightingale, had joined his class around mid semester, he wore a lot of apparently customized -as he later learned- ghost themed accessories. Somehow he got away with it without constantly getting sent to the principal for violating school uniform guidelines. Partially Duke believes that the teachers just gave up after the first week.

Aside from that the first time Duke had even seen the guy, for a short moment he thought that he had looked directly into the sun but then a second later his vision was back to normal like nothing happened but the transfer was staring at him with an eyebrow raised. They had stared at each other for a long time and Duke was sure that right then and there they both had noticed each other's possible Meta status.

But nothing strange had happened after that for a little while, well major really. Minor things kept happing and Duke was convinced that the guy had to be a Meta. The strange little incidence of things going missing but reappearing the next day, utilize or tool appear in the others hand like out of nowhere, the guy suddenly leaving class without explanation, well sometimes at least asking to get excused but still leaving even if their teacher said no or the bouts of green light Duke occasionally caught around the guy.

This transfer student had to be a Meta. Duke had no problem with it, in fact he was kind of happy to find that one of his classmates was a Meta. He just didn't know how to bring it up to him. Considering that most Metas in Gotham lived in hiding and fear, he knew he couldn't just go, walk up to the guy and bluntly ask if he was a fellow Meta.

So after a little discussion with his siblings, Duke decided he would just keep an eye out for his classmate. Trying to complete the friendship route first before and hoping that this way Danny would open up to him. So for now he was making sure the other stayed safe and all that, Duke had even asked his siblings if he should tell Bruce about his Meta classmate just in case but they had told him that as long as nothing major happens to the kid it should be enough for them to keep an eye out.

The friendship route was going great in Duke opinion. Well that was until he got partnered up with him for a group project. Duke really wanted to say that working together with Danny on the project was making it so much easier to connect with the other aside from just joining him during lunch break or trying to strike up a conversation before classes. But the or their group was not making it easier, in fact, Duke got the feeling they tried to actively exclude Danny if it weren't from him.

The day when they all met in the library made it even more obvious. Danny hadn't even known they were meeting up to work on it until Duke texted him asking where he was. He gave the other the best Damian Glare impression he could muster up when he found out and then a Jason death glare impression when they found excuses to leave once he called Danny over when he saw him walking through the library doors.

"Duke, it's fine real. I always have been one of the odd ones out." Duke had definitely not been fine with it when Danny had played it off, especially when he offhandedly mentioned that he got bullied before. Well at least Danny was enjoying his time with Duke, plus Danny was a genius, especially in all the science and engineering subjects. If their idiot group mates wanted to pass up on an A+ with extra credits then it was solely their fault for being judgmental.

Duke had gotten to the point that Danny had even agreed to come with him to the Manor to hang out once, all he now needed to do was clear it with Bruce and make sure that his noisy siblings weren't going to freak Danny out.

He was just about to call Bruce up to see if it was fine when the doors of the library were kicked in by people dressed completely in white carrying deceives that looked like scanners. He was just about to comment to Danny what weird people they seemed to be when he noticed Danny had pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head and for the lack of better words looked frightened.

Duke had only locked once between Danny, and these weird guys before deciding what he needed to do. He shot a quick look towards Babs who was working the library counter and looked about ready to have them kicked out. Duke signaled her, while also shooting off a message into the group chat with the others.

"Danny." His newly made friend had his back turned to the door and looked like he was trying to find an escape route. Duke frowned at the way Danny flinched when he placed a hand on the other's shoulder. Whoever these guys were, Danny was afraid of them or had some sort of trauma and Duke would bet his entire comic collection on the fact that it has something to do with Danny being a Meta. "It's okay, trust me. They won't get you."

"What?" Glowing green eyes peeked at him from under Danny's hood, he clearly remembers them to be blue.

"They won't get you. I promise." Duke repeated, ignoring the color change for now. By now Barbara was trying to get these people out of her library but these people continued to yell something about ecto-entities and those some papers at her. They were advancing into the building and Duke could see that Danny's flight reflex was going to break out soon.

Duke made a brief eye contact with Barbara. She nodded.

"Come with me, hurry." Was the only warning he gave Danny before he grabbed the other's hand and dragged him to the back of the building, towards the hidden doors.

"What are you doing?!" Danny sounded so confused and Duke looked over his shoulder hoping he was giving the other a reassuring smile.

"Helping you!"

"But I am not-"

"These guys are after you right? Let's get away from them first and then talk!" Duke cut him off pushing Danny through a hidden way into an underground path.

"You don't even know me and-"

"I don't need to know you, to see when someone needs help."

He could see that Danny clearly wanted to say something, there was still fear in these still glowing green eyes and Duke wondered once more what these people must have done to Danny for the other Meta to be scared like this. Danny needed to know that they wouldn't get to him as long as Duke and his family were around. He was going to be protected and be able to live normally without fear of these people showing up to hunt him for his powers.

"Meta's gotta stick together. Don't worry I will make sure you're safe!" This wasn't how he had hoped to open up this topic with Danny. He had wanted Danny to bring it up naturally once they had gotten to be really good friends. So that Duke could let him know he wasn't alone.

[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤhear me outㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsituations where he felt humiliated while explaining himself ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanderer, cyno, kaeya, heizou !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

(may be considered a little suggestive ???? kuni likes your thighs!! basta yon putek)

in his defense, it's normal for a loving boyfriend to tweet about his partner on his private account, right ? he's just flexing you !

kunxzhi tweeted: "i want to bite [name]'s thighs archons send strength" kunxzhi tweeted: "archons im no soldier im going feral for them"

he stared at his tweet notifications that displayed on your screen as you held your phone up in front of his face, giving him the most 'this you ?' look humanity has ever seen

no, you weren't mad, you were flustered actually. but you're not used to him thinking about you like that, you thought you were the one thinking about him like that

"you wanna like... elaborate, babe ?" you spoke, setting your phone down on the counter as you leaned with one arm against it, the other resting on your hip in a sassy manner, staring him down. at this, kuni got even more nervous, tugging at the collar of his loose tanktop and mustering up a crooked smile

"i uhm..... hehe ?" why the hell did he 'hehe' ?!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤcyno !ㅤ

please, he did NOT mean to stare at you so much, his eyes following you like a predator, and you weren't even doing anything

you were just wearing one of his shirts with an apron tied around your waist, circling the kitchen while cooking. it wasn't anything like..... ok maybe because you were wearing his shirt and it was loose so you looked absolutely darling in it, but archons forbid the day he has to admit that

he didn't even realize he was staring until you were waving your hand in front of his face. "cyno ? darling ?" he snapped out of his trance as his lips parted, the words ready to spill out for his response, but he felt the way your hand rested on his chest softly

that hand on his chest, along with the way you looked up at him, he is about to have a meltdown

"cyno ? you've been staring at me for a while now.." "eh...." how does he even explain himself in this situation when there was absolutely no prominent reason he should be staring in the first place ?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤkaeya !ㅤ

you've scolded him about drinking on several different occasions by now, and yes, he respects your concerns and he has limited his visits to the local tavern ! but, he needs to let of some steam sometimes

tonight was one of those nights where you allowed him to go to the tavern, giving him a curfew of course

and he arrived on time to his curfew ! just... very messily...

there was a knock on the door, and to your relief, it was your boyfriend ! but, vomiting in the plant bed by the door when you opened up to him knocking. he looked up at you, wiping off his chin as he gave you a guilty, crooked smile. only for you to narrow your eyes and glare at him in return, expectant of an explanation, yet only receiving a nervous chuckle from the male still hunched over on the doorstep

may the anemo archon give you patience to deal with this charming but stubborn man

"you're sleeping on the sofa tonight." "aw love, how cruel !" "you smell." "well, true, but —"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤshikanoin heizou ! ㅤ

you two had developed a morning routine that you were both used to. you would make him some food that he can take with him, whether he's leaving for work or personal training, and he would come home at the end of the day with some random trinket and a kiss

but today, he came home with a broken leg. actually, you had to pick him up at work because he couldn't even walk

his eyes glued to the wall or the floor when you stood in front of him, waiting for an explanation that he couldn't give. it wasn't that it was bad, it was just humiliating. but to his dismay, you asked his coworker instead

"did he sprain it while practicing his stunts ?" you questioned one of his office peers, receiving a sympathetic laugh in reply. "it's ironic actually, we thought so too." they replied, making you raise your eyebrow. "then if not from that, what happened ?" "he tripped while walking into the office."

color drained from his face and his dignity dropped to the floor, making a hole for him to crawl into — not actually, but he wished

as you stepped out of the office, carrying him on your back, you planted a kiss to his cheek as he hid his face in your shoulder

"no need to be embarrassed, idiot."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[notyashiro128]

Iam sorry

Small one-shot

Fluff fluff fluff

Megumi During the day he'll be ignoring you being a bit mean to you

Because He doesn't want Nobara Yuji and Gojo to know about your relationship with him

But today He was so mean to you that you were sick and cuz of what he's done you got angry

"fushiguro can you please give me your notes?" You asked him

Yuji and nobara They were behind you

They asked Megumi before you but Megumi's response was no

"Why didn't you write your note?" he was upset

"no, I was a little tired can I take them? "You asked nicely

"Don't take responsibility, you idiot" he said Coldly leaving the class

'Did this mf called me idiot that bitch then in the night he'll be beging me to sleep with him ' you said it to yourself

"What a mean .hey it ok y/n " Nobara tried to calm you down

"Its okay y/n I'll tell him later to give us-"You interrupted Yuji

"no, We don't need his notes"You left the class and closed the door hard behind you. You went to your dorm as soon as you entered, took off your shoes and went to your bed to sleep.

In middle of night about 2 am

As soon as you woke up, you noticed Megumi sitting at your table, writing something. you couldn't help but feel a bit surprised. You wondered how he had gotten there and why and what he was writing in your room without your permission. You decided to confront him and demand an explanation for her actions.

"m-megumi" you said sleeply Megumi turned to you and got up, walking towards you

"What are you doing here "you said sleepily with a soft town

He then lay down next to you and quickly you sat on your bed. "What are you doing here?' you asked madly" I just came to write you the notes you need and I want to sleep with you today" . You gave him look, "huh? " Side eye 😏

"Its just sorry I yelled at you in the morning," He then grabbed your hands and pushed you to lie on your back while Megumi placed his head on top of your chest ( what a boobie guy)

"I'm sorry" He nuzzles your neck and then h buries his face in your chest even more

"ah me_gumi stop, you're crushing me" you were about to moan

"Oh, I forgot that they are very sensitive but soft like a pillow or marshmallow~," he murmured sleepy then He laid next to you on his side while you lay on your back you you got up and sat in a chair,

"Y/N. What's wrong with you?" He sat on a bed. "Don't talk to me. I won't sit next to you" you said Coldly

."Why said I'm sorry? " He said it softly. " No, I will not accept your sorry, sorry won't fix a broken heart"

As Megumi approached you, you couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. You quickly rose from your seat and tried to distance yourself from him, but he followed you. Suddenly, you found yourself pressed against a wall, his hand resting on your waist. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You mustered up the courage to speak up, "Please, stay away from me, Fushiguro."

When you called him by His first name he knows that you are upset

Then he picked you up and put you in a bed. He covered you with a blanket and hugged you tightly. You were tired

iam sorry *kiss at your forehead* iam sorry*kiss at the tip of your nose* " iam sorry" * kisses at your cheeks* "iam sorry" * kiss at your lips* you giggled trying to hide your smile

As Megumi hugged you tightly, you could feel his hand running over your arm. He leaned in towards you and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, followed by the words, "I love you." You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you realized how soft and warm his touch was. The moment was so tender and intimate that it made you feel safe and loved.

"I love you too goodnight," You Said quickly trying to back to sleep. Megumi couldn't sleep, but he kept watching you.

What's next?

[melolord14]

For All Eternity

Lady Dimitrescu x Female reader

Notes: I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. This is a rather sorrowful piece. While I may not be an established writer or someone whose work you are familiar with, I hope you will consider reading what I have to offer.

Masterlist

Warning: Angst

Part 2

Summary: you don’t get one! Find out if you dare!

You were finally home. After a long day at Donna's, filled with endless conversations and discussions, you were back where you belonged. You couldn't wait to see Alcina, your fiancée, the woman you had been engaged to for two blissful months. The thought of marrying the love of your life, the person you would cherish for all eternity, filled your heart with joy and anticipation.

As you walked through the familiar hallways of your home, each step bringing you closer to your bedroom, you suddenly heard what sounded like moans. A wave of confusion and disbelief washed over you. No, she wouldn't cheat on you. She couldn't.

"Please, I'm close. Keep going. Faster," you heard her voice, unmistakably Alcina's, pleading.

"Well then, I can't deny you that. You can have me instead of her if you call off the wedding," another voice replied, one you didn't recognize.

A maiden? Really? This couldn't be happening. The shock and betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. You thought she loved you. You thought—no, you couldn't think anymore. You needed to leave, but a small part of you clung to a sliver of hope. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe there was still hope left. But that hope was cruelly extinguished when she uttered those final words. "I'll call off the wedding.”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. The pain was unbearable. You couldn't stay in this place that once felt like home. It was no longer a sanctuary, but a prison of heartbreak. You walked to the library, each step heavier than the last. You took off your engagement ring with trembling hands and gently placed it on the table. You pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a note for the girls. How you hated that you couldn't say goodbye face to face. You loved them dearly, you did. They were your daughters, and leaving them behind was the hardest part.

With one last look at the life you had built, you turned and left, the door closing behind you with a finality that echoed through the empty halls. The place you once called home was now just a memory, a painful reminder of a love that was never meant to be.

"I thought we had forever," you whispered to yourself, the words hanging in the air like a ghost of what could have been. "How did it come to this?"

"Goodbye, my love," you murmured, your voice breaking. "Goodbye, my daughters. I hope you understand one day."

As you entered the night, the cool breeze kissed your tear-streaked face. "This is not the end," you told yourself, trying to muster some semblance of strength. "This is just a new beginning."

But deep down, you knew that a part of you would always stay behind, in that room, with the woman you thought you knew, and the family you had to leave behind.

You ran and ran until there it was—the cliff's edge. That's all you need to do. Jump, and your life would end just like that. You stepped forward, looking down at the water below. What else could you do? You took a step, then another. You were close to the edge. Shutting your eyes, you tried to close the memories with them, hoping to lock them away forever. A tear slid down your cheek, the pain of that tear no less than the pain of living. You took that final step, and it was all over. The wind rushed through your hair, and your body fell from a great height.

You got closer and closer to the water below until suddenly, you froze in mid-air. You were surprised and confused. You looked off to the side to see her—the black goddess, Mother Miranda, staring at you with her piercing blue eyes.

"Stupid girl. Why would you jump off a cliff? Are you wishing for death?" she asked, her voice a mix of scorn and concern. "Now, why don't you go back to Alcina? I'm sure she is looking for you, little one."

Mother Miranda's words cut through the haze of your despair. She brought you gently to the ground, making you stand in front of her. You felt the solid earth beneath your feet, but the ground beneath your heart felt like quicksand.

"She doesn't care," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "She doesn't want me, Mother." Your voice cracked, and the dam holding back your emotions broke. You fell to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Mother Miranda watched you, her expression unreadable. She didn't want to admit that she had a soft spot for you. Hell, she loved you like a daughter, though she wouldn't admit it. She knelt beside you, her presence a mix of stern authority and unexpected warmth.

"Listen to me," she said, her voice softer now, almost tender. "You are stronger than this. You are worth more than the love or indifference of one person. Alcina may have made mistakes, but that does not diminish your value. Stand up, little one. Face your pain, do not run from it."

Her words resonated within you, a spark of hope in the darkness. You looked up at her, tears still streaming down your face. "But what if she never wants me back? What if I'm truly alone?"

"You are never truly alone," Mother Miranda replied, her eyes softening. "As long as you have the strength to stand and the courage to face your fears, you will always find your way. And remember, you have me. I may be harsh, but I care for you more than you know."

Using her magic to take you both home, you still held onto Miranda tightly. The journey was swift, and soon you found yourself back in the familiar warmth of your home. You sat on the couch with her, feeling the comfort of her presence. You lay down on the couch, resting your head in her lap. Her fingers gently combed through your hair, a soothing gesture that calmed your racing thoughts.

Miranda's voice was soft and tender as she whispered sweet things to you. "You're safe now, my little bird," she murmured, her words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "Mama's here. I'll always protect you."

The emotions of the day caught up with you, and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. You cried yourself to sleep, the gentle rhythm of her voice and the caress of her fingers lulling you into a deep slumber.

"Sleep well, my little bird," she whispered as she carefully lifted you and carried you to the guest room, which she had already decided would soon be your room. She laid you down gently, tucking you in with a loving smile. "Mama's got you," she said, her voice filled with unwavering affection.

She kissed your forehead, a tender gesture of reassurance, and quietly left the room, leaving you to rest peacefully, knowing you were safe and loved.

[getodrools]

GOOD AFTERNOON LAVIII !! hwo are ya :3

i might js make an everyday appearance but HEAR ME OUT !! a year ago or so i made a lil joke saying i want toji to fuck me with his gun but like.. what if he actually did > 0 <

just wanted to share that :333 IM SO HUNGRYYY, im cravin pancakes but im pancakeless :( you could he sleeping so if you are i hope ur sleeping well and dreaming of super cute things :D : D TA TAAAA (that’s a fancy bye)

— pearl anon

໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ omg gm, i was dreamin’ ! ♡ ‘n i’ve been well, which i hope you've been feeling the same too pearl ! <3 besides the no pancakes disruption ;( ( ! ! but i do hope this feeds ur cravings in some way ??! sob — chocolate pancakes ( >> ) or fruit-based ??

★ ┆ CONFESSIONS .ᐟ ───── TOJI FUSHIGURO ‧

⟣ WARNINGS ‧ MDNI | f! reader | pwp, dub con ( coercion ), gun / fear / and power play, interrogation, degrading, slight praising, squirting, choking / asphyxiation, humiliation, &’ dacryphilia. ᡣ 𐭩 | WC ‧ 1.1K + |

“Tell me where your brother is.” The silencer attached to the sauntering man's gun was cold – at first… The teasing against your ridden hood was no longer enough to set you straight – to spill out any more information he coveted for, solely wreaking a mess out of you; a spill of only silky cum ran down the table he interrogated you on, all shame flowed into a glistening puddle below…

Now the slim, steel barrel between the quaver of your thighs was scolding… “This’ll all end if you just open more than these pretty legs and tell me where my scared little target is. Alright?” And he jams it deep, no hesitation in plugging you up with a loaded gun to the hilt…

Slippery folds spread wide to make room ‘till the invading metal eases in – ramming through your cum-soaked embrace. It hilted in your steaming depths with shocking ease before dragging back with a slight roll; he'd twist at the handle to slide around — left and right, left and right like a q-tip swirling around.

Eyes squeezing tight, “Sir… Please, I told you–” You hiccup, “Told you… I don't know…” You didn't know him, or even knew your brother had a damn hitman chasing him down. Well, it’s a slight explanation as to why he abruptly vanished last week… but you still had no clue of the exact reason!

You didn't know anything!

But you do know, you couldn't risk your brother's life any further. Damnning family loyalty.

The scar lined down the broad man's lips wrinkled stiffly as he frowned, “Where did you see him last goddamnit.” You shake your head, almost a sob falling through feeble lips in response.

Still not good enough. He clicks his tongue.

“Sweetheart,” The mix of gentle words and a pistol shoved up your pussy was… odd, “Before he left, did you at least see him take a scroll?” Raspy voice drawing out slow for you, he tilts his head, “Think real hard f’me, ok?” You barely could muster up words! How in the world could you even remember a stupid piece of paper while a gun is lodged inside you?!

Oh fuck…

Your eyes fill with light, and so does the killers, believing you were about to spew out the truth, “Yeah, yeah, I know that look, tell me.” The only truth spewing out was your cunt reacting vividly to the twisting pole splitting through you.

Another, milky mess splatters at his grey pants and around his gun. Runny with a shimmer – damp and soiled, he soughed as you tremble embarrassingly along the tabletop… Cunt clenching around the working barrel, you cry out; the trepidation, adrenaline, and coerced pleasure from a — truthfully, a hunk of a man was all foreign, shaking a deep rattle in you.

Gasping ‘till the shady room fell silent…

The man's shaggy hair falls with his head, dropping it low with a sigh followed, “It’s just a simple yes or no. Use your words this time, honey.” Patience running eerily low.

Toji had a damn job to do. He was ranked highest in his field of work for a reason. He never cared to show mercy when it came to his money, and that's exactly what his consumers loved. Toji always got the job done one way or the other... Even if working his gun with lethal strokes inside your pussy ‘till you couldn't bare another rumbling high was undoubtedly a way… Anything to get what he needed to get what he wanted.

And before you could reason by catching your breath, your interrogator leans over your feeble body; a stiff leg booted between yours as the other crowded you in on the side. Hovering over you full flush, Toji fills his free hand with your throat, as if he was trying to stifle the very answers out of you.

“I’m giving you one more chance,” Those same words he's said a good handful of times rang through your ears, “Speak up.”

“… I–I…” But the firearm pulling and twisting around your insides was forcing your lips to clamor.

You haven't had room to properly suck in a fresh breath of air in the past three hours…

Verdant eyes scanning your face, so close, you could feel the flutter of his lashes tickle at the stained, wet cheeks that puff out. Welting in tears, you shiver, “I don't… I don't remember…—!” You hear the stiff pistol driving through your silken furrow cock back.

Oh fuck.

“Heh. You really don't now?” Burying all inches of glossy metal inside tight walls, then retracting and slamming down harder, Toji’s grip tightend too, “ ‘Cause I feel like you do. A little birdie told me you even helped him out, huh.” Fuck.

Cum churned with sappy liquids; dragging a translucent milky ring around his suppressor, nothing was going to impede his assignment.

All brisk motions left your gummy insides shivering potently and brain to slosh into a mushy pile… Toji kept at it ‘till you seemed fucked out of your mind. ‘Till you actually couldn't give him any more answers...

<– BACK : PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT : MORE TOJI –>

[asherraccoon]

Time of the month- Radioapple oneshot

(Some trans Luci for the soul 🙏)

Lucifer clutched his heated duck plush close, holding it on his lower abdomen. He felt like shit. He groaned as he sat up in bed and reached for his phone. He checked his texts and was a little surprised to see Charlie had texted him.

CharChar: Hi dad! You've been in your room for a while and I was wondering if you were going to come down for today's activity.

Lucifer felt bad. He if he wasn't in so much pain and didn't feel like absolute shit, then he would have loved to spend time with his daughter today. Unfortunately, he couldn't even muster up the energy to get out of bed. He was about to text Charlie back when he heard a knock on the door.

“Your majesty! Charlie has sent me to fetch you!” 

Alastor. Lucifer grumbled and pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head before flopping back down on the bed. He didn't want to be bugged today. “Go away,” Lucifer said. 

“I'm afraid I can't do that. Charlie is requesting your presence,” Alastor replied, knocking on the door once more.

“Tell her I'm sick or something!” Lucifer spat. He hugged his plush tighter, frustrated that Alastor wouldn't leave him alone.

Alastor ignored Lucifer and opened the door, much to Lucifer's annoyance. 

Lucifer grabbed a rubber duck from his bedside table and threw it at Alastor. “Fuck off!” 

Alastor blinked as the duck hit his face. He kicked it aside when it hit the floor before approaching Lucifer. “My my my! His majesty looks like an absolute mess! Is that any way for a king to present?” The deer demon teased. 

Lucifer growled at him. “I'm serious Alastor. I want to be left alone right now,” he said, forcing himself to sit up. He held his heated plush on his lap against his abdomen. “Please,” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the plush before taking it from Lucifer's grasp. “How peculiar,”

“HEY!” Lucifer tried to reach for it, but Alastor held it just out of reach. “Give that back!” 

“And why is it so warm? Have you just been holding it for that long?” Alastor asked. He was amused by Lucifer's annoyance and anger.

Lucifer growled. “No, you fuck, it's supposed to be warm,” Lucifer made a futile attempt to get the plush back, but he was so low on energy that he just gave up instead and lay down on the bed. “It makes me feel better,” he said, hugging himself and curling in on himself. 

“Why do you need to feel better? Are you truly sick?” Alastor tilted his head.

Lucifer huffed and blushed from embarrassment. “No, I'm-” He sighed. He didn't want to admit this but Alastor wasn't leaving him alone. “I'm on my time of the month,” he mumbled.

Alastor tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, confused.

“My period, dumbass,” he growled.

Alastor took a moment to process what Lucifer said. He opened his mouth but closed it again. His ears twitched. “I'm sorry, your what now?” 

“Do you not know what a fucking period is?” Lucifer asked in annoyance.

“No- I know what it is I just-” he scanned Lucifer's body. “How..?” He dropped the plush on the bed.

Lucifer quickly took the duck plush and hugged it. “I'm trans,” 

“Trans..?” 

“Oh, right, you're from the 1920s,” Lucifer sighed. “Transgender. I don't identify as my birth sex,” Lucifer said. 

Alastor took a moment to process. “What?” 

“I was born female,” Lucifer said.

“Oh- OH!” Alastor blinked a few times. “You-” he tried to think of something to say. “I think Rosie told me about this,” 

“Rosie?” 

“Cannibal overload and my dearest friend,” Alastor clarified. “So, you were originally a female… but now you are male?” Alastor asked.

“Y'know, that's a good enough explanation,” Lucifer shrugged. He didn't feel like explaining the whole transgender thing to Alastor. He groaned and squeezed his plush.

“Pain?” Alastor asked. 

“Yep,” Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut and let out a breath. He opened his eyes and looked up at Alastor. “Can you get pain medication for me?” He asked.

Alastor pulled a bottle out of his coat pocket and handed it to Lucifer. “I carry pain medication on me. I have headaches often and my girls get cramps pretty badly,” 

Lucifer was a little surprised to learn this. He sat up and took the pill bottle from Alastor. He took two from the bottle and swallowed them. He closed the bottle and handed it back to Alastor, who put it back in his pocket. 

“It should kick in in about 15 minutes,” Alastor told him.

“Thanks. I should tell Charlie I can't come down today,” Lucifer reached for his phone. 

“No need. I can alert her,” Alastor offered. 

“This is faster,” Lucifer protested as he started texting Charlie.

Hey, sorry. I can't today. I'm cramping up real bad :(

CharChar: Awww that sucks! I hope you feel better soon!! <3

Lucifer smiled softly at Charlie's response. He set his phone aside and looked at Alastor. “Why are you still here?” 

Alastor's ear flicked. “Uhm,” his eyes darted around the room. “Is… Is there anything I can do.. For you?” 

“You can leave,” Lucifer said. “Like I told you to in the first place,” 

“Are- Are you sure..?” Alastor didn't feel right just leaving Lucifer alone when he was in so much pain and discomfort. 

“Yes. I don't need help. I deal with this every month,” Lucifer grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Alastor. He pulled his blankets up to his face, hiding under them. “Now go,” 

Alastor's ears lowered. “I can get you anything you need-”

“What I need right now is to be left alone and not be bothered,” he huffed, poking his head out of the blankets. “Just leave me be,” 

Alastor let out a small sigh and nodded. “As you wish,” he turned to the door and left. He closed the door behind him.  And leaned back against it. So Lucifer wanted to be left alone. Fine. He'd stand outside Lucifer's room and make sure nobody came to bother his majesty.