#did you see how he embraced his acting role?

[calicos-clones]

My entire braincell watching TBB S3E13:

[alxtiny]

can you do which ateez habit you would have picked up from being around them for too long?

I struggled with this more than I should have I’m sorry 😭😭😭😭 Happy reading!!!

Habits you pickup from Ateez

Synopsis: little habits you pick up from ateez

Pairing: ateez members x gn!reader, idol au

Genre: fluff

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none:)

masterlist

• Hongjoong

Falling asleep in random places

You never thought you'd pick up such a peculiar habit from Hongjoong but here you were, dozing off on the couch in his studio. It had become somewhat of a routine lately. Hongjoong often found himself working late into the night, composing music and writing lyrics, and you couldn't bear to leave him alone. So, you stayed up with him, keeping him company and offering moral support.

Tonight was no different. The studio was dimly lit, save for the soft glow of the computer screen where Hongjoong was tirelessly tinkering away. You sat beside him, occasionally offering words of encouragement or fetching him a snack to keep his energy up. But as the hours passed, fatigue started to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

"You okay Y/n?" a familiar voice chimed in, bringing you back from the brink of slumber.

You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Huh? Who? What?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

Seonghwa chuckled softly and gestured towards you. "You fell asleep in a chair, I think you’re spending too much time with Hongjoong. You should get some real rest before you start falling asleep in random places, like him, too."

Glancing over at Hongjoong, you realized he was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to the conversation happening around him. You laughed sheepishly, realizing Seonghwa was right. Lately, you had indeed found yourself dozing off in various places – the couch, the kitchen table, even leaning against the wall.

"It's just... I can't leave him alone when he's working so hard," you explained softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

Seonghwa's expression softened as he understood. "I know, and I'm sure Hongjoong appreciates it too. But you need to take care of yourself as well, okay? "

You nodded, grateful for Seonghwa's concern. As you settled back into the couch, you made a mental note to try and get more sleep, even if it meant leaving Hongjoong to his work occasionally. But for now, you allowed yourself to succumb to the comforting embrace of sleep, knowing that Hongjoong was just a few feet away.

• Seonghwa

Acting motherly towards the members

Seonghwa watched with a bemused smile as you flitted around the dorm, straightening pillows, picking up stray socks, and tidying up the kitchen. It was a sight he'd grown accustomed to – you, inadvertently taking on the role of the dorm mom, just like he did. It wasn't something you consciously did, but rather a habit you'd picked up from spending so much time around him and the other guys.

You had a thing for neatness and sometimes acted much like a mom in your friend group, but lately, you found yourself slipping into Seonghwa's shoes more often than not. It was something he found endearing and amusing, seeing you scold the other members for leaving their belongings strewn about or for forgetting to do their chores.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Seonghwa asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

You turned to him, a blushi tinting your cheeks, wondering just how long he had been watching you. "Oh, just tidying up a bit. It was a mess in here."

Seonghwa chuckled softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don’t need to do all that, you know"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I can't help it. You guys are like family to me, and I just want to take care of you."

The other members wandered into the kitchen, groaning as they saw you fussing over the cleanliness of the space.

"Come on, Y/N, we already have one Seonghwa," Yunho teased, flashing you a playful grin. "We don't need you turning into another one."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just trying to help keep things organized around here. Someone has to do it."

Seonghwa wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We appreciate it, really. Just don't forget to take care of yourself too, okay?"

You nodded, leaning into his side. "Of course. But someone has to keep you guys in line."

The others laughed, knowing deep down that they were lucky to have both you and Seonghwa looking out for them – even if it meant enduring occasional scoldings for their messy habits.

• Yunho

Picking at or biting your lips

Yunho had always been the type to immerse himself completely in whatever task he was working on, often biting or touching his lips in concentration. You, on the other hand, had never noticed this about yourself until Yunho pointed it out one day.

You were sitting together at the studio, both lost in your respective work. You were so engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't even realize your hand had wandered up to your lips, fingers lightly touching and occasionally biting at them in a habit you had unknowingly picked up from Yunho.

"Y/N," Yunho's voice broke through your concentration, causing you to look up, startled. "Don’t do that," he said, nodding towards your lips.

Confused, you furrowed your brows. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Yunho sighed, his expression turning slightly serious. "You keep biting your lips. You might hurt them if you're not careful."

You blinked, suddenly becoming aware of what you were doing. "Oh," you muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "I didn't even realize I was doing that."

Yunho's lips twitched with amusement, but he quickly composed himself. "It's a bad habit. You should try to stop."

You couldn't help but feel a bit defensive. "Well, you do it too," you scoffed and pointed out.

Yunho's cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked away. "I... I do?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. Maybe we've just been spending too much time together," you teased.

Yunho's embarrassment was palpable now, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Maybe," he muttered, unable to meet your gaze.

But despite the awkwardness, there was a warmth in your chest knowing that even your unconscious habits were intertwined with his. It was just another reminder of how close the two of you had become, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

• Yeosang

Clapping while laughing

You and Yeosang had spent such a long time together and over the course of it, you became attuned to each other's habits, quirks, and gestures without even realising it. One particular habit of Yeosang's that seemed to have rubbed off on you was the way he would clap his hands when he found something particularly amusing.

The way your hands would subconsciously come together and follow the rhythm of your laughter felt natural and neither of you actually noticed how a habit, once Yeosang’s, was now shared by you.

However, that was until one lazy afternoon when Yeosang excitedly showed you his phone, "Hey, check this out," he said with a grin, pushing it towards your face.

Curious, you glanced at the screen, finding yourself staring at a Twitter thread created by an ATINY. The thread was a compilation of gifs and videos, side by side, showing you and Yeosang laughing together. What caught your attention, however, was the caption accompanying the thread: "Am I the only one who noticed that Y/N and Yeosang have the same adorable habit of clapping while laughing? #YeoY/N."

"Oh my god they’re adorable."

"They look like cute little seals when they're laughing together, it's like they're synchronised."

You couldn't help but smile and giggle as you scrolled through the thread, amused by how certain things never went unnoticed by their fans, even if you yourselves were oblivious.

Yeosang glanced over at you, his expression softening. "I guess we really do spend too much time together, huh?"

You chuckled, leaning closer to him. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

• San

Covering your mouth while laughing

It was just one of those habits you picked up without even realising it – covering your face while laughing. It was something you'd seen San do countless times, his hand rising instinctively to his mouth as his laughter bubbled up. Maybe it was the contagiousness of his joy, or perhaps it was the familiarity that made you do it, but whatever the reason, you found yourself unconsciously mimicking his actions more and more as time went on.

You didn't think much of it, not until one fateful day when you and San were doing a live stream together. The comments were flooding in, a flurry of emojis and supportive messages from fans all over the world. Amidst the sea of text, one comment stood out:

"OMG, look how they laugh the same! 😍 SanYn are the cutest! 💕"

Curious, you glanced at the screen, only to see San's eyes widen in realisation. He turned to you, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we've been caught," he teased, nudging you lightly.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but there was also a warmth spreading through you, a sense of fondness at the thought of sharing such a small, intimate detail with San. "Guess we spend too much time together," you joked back, unable to suppress a smile.

But as the live stream continued, you couldn't help but notice how often you and San found yourselves laughing, your hands rising simultaneously to cover your mouths. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the bond you shared, the way you seemed to sync up without even trying.

After the stream ended, you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to San’s cheek, you couldn't help but giggle at how much these little quirks affected you, maybe making life more comfortable along the way.

• Mingi

Making the 🥺 face

To the people outside, Mingi seemed to be very intimidating, with his deep voice and built 6ft stature but inside the comfort of his he couldn't be more different. He knew he was cute and he knew how to use it against people. One quick look sent your way with his puppy eyes and pouty lips and you would melt, at some point this habit of his rubbed off on you.

The members weren’t safe from it either, like when Seonghwa had just finished making a delicious batch of ramen for himself. The aroma wafted through the room, teasing your senses and making your stomach growl loudly. You and Mingi couldn't help but stare at the steaming bowl with longing eyes.

"Seonghwa hyung, that smells amazing," Mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening with hunger.

You nodded enthusiastically, finding yourself unintentionally mirroring Mingi's expression, your lips slightly pouting like the 🥺 emoji.

Seonghwa chuckled at your antics, shaking his head. "Sorry guys, this is just for me. I only made enough for one."

"But hyung, we're starving!" Mingi whined, his voice tinged with desperation.

You glanced at Seonghwa, your eyes pleading as you continued to unknowingly imitate Mingi's puppy-dog expression.

Seonghwa sighed, feeling the pressure of your combined adorable stares. "Oh no, I have to deal with two Mingis now, don't I?"

You and Mingi exchanged a glance before bursting into giggles, realising your unintentional synchronisation. Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh along with you.

"Fine, fine," Seonghwa relented, dividing the ramen between the three of you. "But next time, make your own!"

• Wooyoung

Smacking people while laughing

You couldn't help but laugh at the way Wooyoung told a recount of the recent Wanteez episode the boys shot, adding his own commentary in between. He always had a way of making you laugh wholeheartedly, even when you fought he would be the one to apologise first and crack a joke to make you smile. However, what you didn't realise was that you had picked up one of his habits along the way.

In the midst of your laughter, your hand instinctively swung out and smacked San's thigh, eliciting a surprised yelp from him. It wasn't until he looked at you with a mix of amusement and slight irritation that you realised what you had done.

"Oops, sorry, San!" you apologised, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you tried to suppress your laughter.

San rubbed his thigh, shooting you a mock glare. "I already have to take abuse from Wooyoung, and now you're doing it too?"

You couldn't help but giggle at his playful complaint, but Wooyoung nudged you with a grin. "Looks like my habits are rubbing off on you, huh?"

You chuckled, realising how similar you two acted these days. "I guess so. Sorry, San, I’ll try not to do that but I can’t make any promises." You winked at him.

San shook his head and scoffed at your mocking, a smile breaking through his faux irritation. "Ahh so much I have to go through,"

You and Wooyoung giggled at his words, knowing how much he loved you both the same, with the occasional physical abuse of course.

• Jongho

Scrunching your nose while smiling/laughing

As you sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you stumbled upon a video compilation titled "JongYn Couple Moments" ,obviously your curiosity got the better of you and you clicked on it, not fully knowing what to expect. What unfolded on the screen was definitely not what you were expecting, it sent a sudden blush creeping up your cheeks.

The video was a compilation of moments featuring you and Jongho, through the fans’ eyes, complete with dramatic commentary about how cute you two were together. Especially about the way your noses scrunched and crinkles formed around your eyes as you both laughed, with your faces making the same endearing expression.

You couldn't help but be amused as you watched, realising that you had subconsciously copied Jongho's habit of scrunching his nose when he smiled.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Glancing over, you found Jongho peering over your shoulder, his eyes fixated on the screen. As he watched the video, a wide grin spread across his face, small giggles leaving his lips.

"Wow, we really do look alike sometimes," Jongho remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You nodded, still giggling at the sight. "I never realized I picked up on your habit."

"It's adorable," Jongho said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "I guess I've rubbed off on you, huh?"

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. "Looks like it. But hey, I don't mind sharing a few habits with you."

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 4

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 4k

Trigger warning; Blood, pain, injuries.

notes; Hello everyone! I'm super exited on how this story is going to turn (and let me be honest it's probably going to be long, at least longer than the Forger of starlight for those who read it). Still I hope that you are going to enjoy this chapter ! Don't hesitate to comment <3 See you soon !

Link; Part 3 or Part 5

---

The next morning’s light cast a pale glow through the clinic’s windows, the faint scent of antiseptics and dried herbs greeting you as you unlatched the doors. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to keep your mind on the tasks at hand rather than on the unsettling knowledge lodged behind your ribs. A mate—Azriel was your mate. Even thinking the word sent your pulse skittering.

One of the healers—a younger fae named Elira, with cropped auburn hair and warm brown eyes—stepped inside just as you finished propping the doors open. She paused, studying your face with a hint of concern. “Morning, Y/N. Are you all right? You look… tired,” she said gently, pulling her shawl tighter over her shoulders. The morning still carried a chill, and you realized you’d barely felt it through the fog in your head.

You mustered a weary smile. “I’m fine,” you lied, voice quiet. The words felt brittle, and you suspected Elira might sense the untruth. But you couldn’t burden her with the chaos pounding in your skull. “It was a long night. Emergencies.”

Elira nodded, sympathy softening her expression. “Did something serious happen?”

“Serious enough,” you answered vaguely. “I managed it, but… I’m still recovering.” You forced your shoulders to square, as though you could physically straighten your resolve. “Do we have the morning’s patient lists ready?”

Elira didn’t press further—perhaps sensing you weren’t ready to talk. She offered a tentative smile and said, “I’ll sort the files. You should rest, even if just for a few minutes.” There was kindness in her voice, a gentle understanding that you were carrying more than you cared to say.

Rest. The suggestion sounded laughable. There was no rest in sight, not with the secret you held, not with Azriel’s bandages and salves waiting for you at the House of Wind. But you nodded anyway, grateful for Elira’s compassion. “Thank you, but I need to tend to something first,” you managed, grateful that she didn’t look offended. Instead, she nodded and moved toward the record room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

For a moment, you lingered by the door, one hand still on the frame. The clinic hummed softly as healers arrived, exchanging greetings, setting up their stations. Usually, this hum would soothe you, give you purpose. Today, it only reminded you that you were somewhere you once felt safe—somewhere you now felt oddly displaced.

You inhaled, drawing in the scent of herbs and polished wood. It was time to go back. Time to face Azriel again, to apply the ointment and ensure his recovery progressed smoothly. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of dread and longing. How would you act in his presence now? Would he sense the shift in your energy, even unconscious as he was?

Stepping out into the crisp morning, you let the door close gently behind you. The sound of the city waking up drifted through the streets—vendors setting out their wares, the faint laughter of children, distant footfalls of those heading to their day’s work. You pulled your cloak tighter, the weight of your responsibilities and secrets pressing against your shoulders.

With determined strides, you set off toward the House of Wind, each step both too quick and not quick enough. You wanted to get this over with, to fulfill your duties, to reassure yourself that he was alive and healing—and yet every pace brought you closer to him, and to the golden bond you didn’t know how to handle.

In the rising daylight, Velaris shimmered with quiet beauty. Its peace mocked your turmoil, but you kept walking, forging ahead, praying the trembling in your chest would ease before you reached the High Lord’s halls and the wounded spymaster waiting within.

With quiet steps, you entered Azriel’s room at the House of Wind. The morning light streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the space in pale gold. You had your supplies in hand—a jar of ointment and fresh bandages, carefully prepared in the clinic’s familiar hush. Your heart gave a nervous flutter at the thought of approaching him again, but duty called, and you pushed forward, easing the door open with a soft creak.

At first, you saw only Azriel’s still form, cocooned in blankets, his wings carefully arranged to avoid pressure on his healing injuries. His dark hair fell over his forehead, his lashes resting against his cheeks. He looked peaceful, his pain soothed by rest and the remedies you’d applied before dawn.

But then your gaze caught movement. Someone else was here—a young woman seated by his bedside, her head bowed slightly as if in prayer or silent plea. She had delicate features, long brown hair cascading around her shoulders. A gentle profile that, when she turned, revealed a face not unlike Feyre’s—similar bone structure, the same warm eyes, though softer in hue.

Your footsteps faltered. Your mind flashed with questions: Who was she? Why was she here? Azriel was asleep, unaware of your arrival. You swallowed hard, feeling the tension coil in your stomach. The golden thread of the bond still lingered in your mind, making the sight of this unknown woman’s hand resting lightly on Azriel’s arm feel like a knife twisting in your chest.

As you approached, the woman looked up, startled yet hopeful. You noticed the worry etched on her face, a sorrow and concern that spoke of care and affection. Without hesitation, she stood, moving gracefully toward you.

She offered a trembling smile, eyes bright with tears unshed. “You must be the healer,” she said, voice quiet and earnest. “I’m Elain. Elain Archeron.” Her gaze flickered to Azriel’s sleeping form, then back to you. “Feyre’s sister,” she added gently, as though knowing her connection might reassure you.

Elain reached for your arms in a gesture of gratitude and relief. Her touch was soft, tentative, but sincere. “Thank you,” she said, and her voice caught. “Thank you for saving him. I-I’ve only just heard what happened. If not for you, he might have…” She trailed off, unable or unwilling to complete the grim thought.

Your heart twisted at her obvious worry, and despite the turmoil inside you, you forced yourself to remain composed. She was worried for Azriel, nothing more. Any sting of jealousy or fear you felt was misplaced, you told yourself. You were here to help, to heal. That was all.

“I’m glad I could be there,” you managed, voice quiet. Your eyes drifted to Azriel’s face, the rise and fall of his chest steady and sure. “He’s stable now, and with proper care, he’ll recover.”

Elain’s grip tightened slightly on your arms, as if finding comfort in your words. “He means so much to all of us,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “We were afraid—” Another half-spoken fear cut short. She swallowed, releasing your arms and folding her hands together. “I won’t keep you from your work.”

You nodded, steeling yourself, and moved closer to the bedside. The world narrowed down to the tasks at hand: checking Azriel’s bandages, applying ointment, ensuring his wounds were clean and healing as intended. Behind you, Elain hovered, her presence a soft reminder that you were not the only one who cared about this man’s survival.

The ache in your chest remained, but you channeled it into precise, gentle care, grateful that Azriel slept on, oblivious for now to all the unspoken emotions filling the room.

As you carefully lifted Azriel’s wing to apply fresh ointment along the fragile membranes, the door opened. Looking up, you expected perhaps Feyre or Cassian, but it was Rhysand who stepped quietly inside. He halted at the sight of Elain, surprise flickering across his features. She stiffened, then dropped her gaze and slipped past him without a word, leaving the room as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Her sudden departure hung in the silence, unanswered questions lingering in the space she vacated.

You remained focused on your work, smoothing the ointment gently and checking for any sign of infection. When you were done, you lowered Azriel’s wing back onto the soft padding you’d arranged. He stirred slightly, but remained in a healing sleep. The faint hiss of his steady breathing was the only sound until Rhysand approached, stopping a respectful distance away.

“How is he?” the High Lord asked, voice low. His violet eyes held concern and relief in equal measure—he clearly trusted you, but he needed reassurance. You wondered if it was strange for him to stand here, watching you care for one of his closest friends, after seeing how you worked miracles with moonlight just hours before.

You inclined your head, wiping your hands on a clean cloth. “His vitals are stable. The bleeding has ceased, the stitches and salves are holding up. He will heal, but it’s going to take time.” You glanced at the bandages, ensuring everything was in order. “For the next two or three weeks, he should be extremely careful. Any strain could reopen those wounds, especially where the wings are concerned. If he follows instructions, he should make a full recovery.”

Rhysand exhaled quietly, tension easing from his posture. “Thank you,” he said simply, yet the depth of gratitude in that single phrase was undeniable. He stepped closer, examining Azriel’s peaceful face, the neat wrappings. “I know you’ve done more than what could be expected.”

You offered a faint, professional smile. “He responded well to the treatments. I’ll check on him regularly. With proper rest and caution, he’ll be back on his feet soon.” You paused, hesitant, then added, “He might chafe at the restrictions. I trust you and the others can help ensure he doesn’t push himself too hard.”

A hint of wry amusement touched Rhysand’s lips. “Oh, that will be a battle,” he said, a spark of humor in his tone. “Azriel’s not exactly fond of lying in bed. But we’ll manage.”

As you turned away to rinse the cloth and reorganize your supplies, the High Lord lingered, watching over his friend. The hush in the room was gentler now, as if the worst of the night’s nightmares had passed. In the corridor outside, you heard distant murmurs—life carrying on in the House of Wind, even as Azriel slept through his healing pains.

In a few hours, you’d return with more salves, check the stitching again, monitor his temperature. The routine would help ground you, a steady path forward as you navigated your new role and the unsettling bond you’d discovered the night before. For now, Azriel’s safe and stable state was a small victory, one you both needed.

After you finished tending to Azriel and making certain he was resting comfortably, Rhysand gently guided you from the room. In silence, you followed him through the House of Wind, eventually arriving at his office. It was a spacious chamber lined with shelves full of books and maps, and a large window offered a breathtaking view of Velaris and the mountains beyond.

He gestured for you to sit in a chair opposite his desk and took his own seat with a measured elegance. You settled into the soft cushions, mind still churning with the events of the night before and the morning that followed. Rhysand allowed a brief moment of silence, his violet eyes studying you with calm interest. You appreciated the courtesy he afforded you—allowing you to compose yourself, if only for a breath.

“There is some business we need to discuss,” he began quietly, resting his forearms on the desk’s smooth surface. “Specifically, Illyria.”

Your heart sank a fraction, remembering the plight of the Illyrian females. The clipping of their wings, a barbaric tradition meant to keep them grounded, powerless, had long stained the culture of the mountain camps. Anyone who’d lived in the Night Court knew about it—knew the cruelty it entailed. It made your stomach knot, the injustice of it all. But Rhysand’s gaze was steady, his tone matter-of-fact. He didn’t need to explain the tradition or its brutality to you. You already knew.

He continued, “We’ve made strides in changing policies and punishing those who practice clipping, but traditions die hard. There’s a deep-seated reluctance in some of the camps to embrace new methods, to trust outside help. And while we can enforce laws, people need more than punishment—they need healing. Not just in body, but in mind and culture.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the layers to his request. Illyria was a complex knot of pride, pain, and ingrained habits. Simply banning clipping hadn’t eradicated it overnight. Change would require education, trust, and time. As a healer, you might wield some influence. Heal their wounds, show them better ways, and perhaps, over time, their hearts could soften.

“You’re aware of the situation,” Rhysand acknowledged, reading your thoughtful silence. “I know you’ve only recently returned and you have your hands full with Azriel’s recovery and the transition of your role. Still, I must ask: would you be willing, sometime in the coming week, to travel to Winghaven? Begin there. Examine their current medical facilities—or lack thereof—and train some of their healers. Introduce new methods. Show them what can be done, especially for those who’ve suffered under these old customs.”

You caught his eyes, the sincerity and gravity in them. This wasn’t a small favor. It was a step in a long journey of reform. “I know Winghaven,” you said quietly. “They have rudimentary healers, but nothing on par with Velaris. The conditions are… difficult.”

Rhysand inclined his head. “Indeed. Start there, build rapport, and then move on to the other camps in the following weeks. A thorough evaluation, some training sessions, maybe even demonstrations of advanced healing techniques. Whatever you think might help them trust and adopt new methods.”

Your pulse fluttered, considering what this meant. You’d travel again, but within the Night Court’s borders this time, extending the reach of your healing and knowledge to places that desperately needed it. It was daunting, but also a chance to enact real change. Madja had chosen you not just to heal wounds, but to heal a culture’s mindset if possible. This could be the first step in doing just that.

“I can do it,” you answered softly, your voice firming as you spoke. “I’ll need a day or two to prepare. I should bring some portable tools, samples of herbs, and notes to leave behind. And I’ll finish stabilizing Azriel’s condition, make sure everything here is organized before I leave.”

A hint of relief, and perhaps admiration, touched Rhysand’s features. “Thank you,” he said. “I won’t pretend this will be easy. You may face skepticism, even hostility. But we’ve set certain laws in place—call on them if you must. Cassian, in particular, is familiar with Winghaven and can advise you on how to approach certain leaders.”

At the mention of Cassian, you nodded again, making a mental note to consult him. His insight could help navigate the subtle power dynamics and stubborn pride of Illyrian warriors.

You exhaled slowly, embracing the weight of your new mission. Healing was never just about wounds. It was about hearts, minds, and cultures. It was about offering better ways to live, even to those who resisted. You’d do what you could, and hopefully, over time, your efforts would take root.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make a difference,” you promised, voice steady despite the uncertainty that loomed ahead.

Rhysand’s smile was small but genuine, a touch of warmth breaking through the High Lord’s composed demeanor. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

The hush of the office fractured abruptly by muffled commotion from down the hall. Your conversation with Rhysand froze mid-sentence, both of you snapping your heads toward the door. There was a look in his violet eyes—concern and a steeled readiness—that mirrored your own. In a heartbeat, you rose from your chair, following him at a brisk pace down the corridor.

The sounds led you back to Azriel’s room. The door stood ajar, and you entered to find Elain near the bed, wringing her hands, her face stricken with alarm. Azriel lay on the mattress, his breathing ragged, his skin flushing and mottled as if reacting violently to something.

Elain’s voice quavered, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she pleaded, voice trembling. “He seemed uncomfortable, in pain, and I just thought—my salve… I didn’t know—”

Your heart pounded with a hot surge of anger. This was exactly why you insisted on careful protocols and avoiding any unapproved treatments. “What were you thinking?” you snapped, too concerned to temper your tone. “Applying something else without knowing its properties? Mixing plants can cause severe reactions!” Your voice cracked through the tension in the room, startling her.

Elain’s lower lip trembled as she retreated a step. She looked horrified and remorseful, but you had no time for comforting her now. Azriel jerked under the covers, his wings twitching fitfully. You needed to move fast.

“Get out,” you ordered, pointing to the door. Your command was clipped, professional, but unyielding. Elain let out a small sob and stumbled back, leaving the room in a blur of skirts and regret.

Azriel’s breath came in short, pained pants, his eyes half-lidded. You tossed your head toward Rhysand. “I need you to hold him down,” you said urgently, dropping to your knees beside the bed and flinging open your medical kit. “If he thrashes, he’ll make it worse. I must flush this foreign salve from his system.”

Rhysand stepped forward without hesitation. His presence, calm and contained, would help keep Azriel still. With a nod, he took position near Azriel’s shoulders, pressing down firmly but gently, careful not to aggravate existing wounds. Az let out a ragged moan, wings scraping restlessly against the blankets.

Your hands moved quickly, selecting herbs and tools you’d never intended to use twice in one day. You measured doses with exacting care, mentally reviewing which compounds countered which toxins, which would draw out the harmful concoction Elain had unwittingly introduced. The scent of your preparations soon filled the air—bitter, pungent, but necessary.

Biting your lip, you applied a cleansing solution around the affected areas, your fingertips deft and gentle despite your racing pulse. Rhysand’s voice was quiet, murmuring something soothing to Azriel, trying to keep him calm. Your own heart ached to see him like this, so vulnerable and in pain, especially after what he had already endured. But you banished the ache and focused on your role as healer.

The minutes stretched thin. You worked methodically, using a special wash to neutralize the reaction, applying cool compresses to reduce inflammation. Outside the room, you could still sense Elain’s presence in the hall, her quiet weeping. You pushed that distraction aside, refusing to look anywhere but Azriel’s face and the wounds you tended.

“Stay with me, Azriel,” you whispered as you worked, your tone softer now, though he might not be lucid enough to understand. “I’ve got you.”

Behind you, Rhysand’s gaze bore into your back, silent trust and support emanating from him. He kept his hold steady, ensuring Azriel didn’t thrash off the mattress and disrupt the delicate mending you were attempting.

Slowly, the color in Azriel’s cheeks began to normalize, the flush fading as the compounds took hold. His breathing, labored and strained, began to even out, shallow gasps replaced by steadier inhalations. It would take time, more careful applications, but you could see the signs of the countermeasures working.

It wasn’t over yet, but you’d gained precious ground. You adjusted your grip on another vial, heart pounding with renewed determination. You wouldn’t let him slip away, not now, not after everything.

“Hold him just a moment longer,” you said to Rhysand, voice steady once more. “I’m almost done.”

Once you were certain Azriel’s condition had stabilized, you stepped out of the room, still breathing heavily from the tension of your work. You found Elain in the corridor, lingering where you’d left her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tear tracks staining her cheeks, her posture slumped with remorse. But right now, you were too furious, too rattled by the near catastrophe, to offer comfort.

You closed the distance between you and her in quick strides, the echo of your footsteps making her flinch. “What were you thinking?” you demanded, voice low and tight. “You are no healer, Elain. You had no right—no right—to apply anything without my approval.”

“I-I was just trying to help,” Elain stammered, voice quavering. Her hands twisted in her skirts, knuckles turning white. “He looked like he was in pain, and I had this salve that’s helped me before—”

“Stop,” you cut in sharply, and she recoiled as if struck. “This isn’t about your intentions. It’s about what could have happened. I’ve seen lives lost because someone thought they knew better than the professionals. A bad mix of herbs, a plant reacting poorly with other treatments—and a patient dies. You could have killed him.”

Tears welled again in her eyes, her breath coming in shaky gasps. “I… I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice barely audible.

You tightened your jaw, fighting to keep your emotions from spilling over into cruelty. “I don’t care who you are to him, or what you think you can do. Right now, Azriel is my patient. My priority is saving his life, not sparing your feelings. And if you ever pull a stunt like that again…” Your voice trailed off ominously, anger vibrating in your throat.

“Elain,” came a quiet voice from behind you. Rhysand’s hand settled gently on your shoulder, the subtle pressure a reminder that you’d made your point. You breathed in slowly through your nose, attempting to calm the fire in your blood.

Elain looked at Rhysand as if searching for reprieve, but found little. His face was composed, yet stern. “It’s best you return to the townhouse,” he said calmly. “We cannot afford any more risks to Azriel’s recovery. Until he’s better—fully better—I’m afraid you’re not allowed in the House of Wind.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, shoulders slumping further. With a trembling nod, Elain turned away, tears still glistening on her cheeks. She moved off down the corridor, footsteps fading into silence.

You let out a shaky breath, shoulders still tight with residual fury and fear. Rhysand’s hand remained on your shoulder a moment longer, a silent token of understanding. When he removed it, you stood there, heart pounding, your mind already shifting back to Azriel’s condition. He was stable for now, but you would have to keep a closer eye on him than ever.

No more unnecessary risks. No more interference. Not while his life hung in the balance and your responsibility, as his healer, demanded unwavering vigilance.

———

Back at the clinic, the familiar hum of voices and quiet steps on wooden floors welcomed you like a gentle embrace. You’d returned not long ago, having decided you wouldn’t check on Azriel again until the next day. He was stable, and after the emotional whirlwind of the morning, you needed to focus on your other duties, regain your footing in the place that felt most under your control.

The other healers had noticed your tension, though none had dared comment openly. But as dusk settled, while sorting through jars of herbs in the storage room, you found yourself beside Elira—the same young healer who had noticed your fatigue earlier. She had a careful way about her, kind but never intrusive, and you appreciated her steady presence.

She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, tightening the string around a bundle of dried leaves. “Everything all right?” she asked softly, as if testing the waters. “You seem… troubled.”

You exhaled slowly, considering how much to share. “There was an incident,” you admitted, voice low. “I had to step in this morning to save someone who was already on the mend.” You paused, picking through lavender stems. “Let’s just say someone interfered with the treatment, and it nearly cost him dearly.”

Elira’s eyebrows rose. “That sounds serious. Did they mean harm?”

You shook your head, remembering Elain’s tearful face. “No, I think she meant well. But intentions aren’t enough. She mixed treatments without understanding the consequences.” The words tasted bitter, like you were defending your anger yet again. You looked at Elira more directly. “I might have been harsh, but… there was a real risk.”

Elira nodded slowly, a knowing sympathy in her gaze. “It’s never easy when outsiders meddle. Most don’t realize how delicate the balance is, or how small a mistake can undo hours of careful work.”

You busied yourself with organizing a stack of bandages. “What’s harder is… I’m curious about who she was to him. The patient, I mean.” The admission made you feel exposed, but you pressed on. “I know she’s related to the High Lady—her sister, Elain. But what about her relationship to him?” You pursed your lips, scanning Elira’s face for any sign of judgment. “I can’t help it,” you added softly, as if apologizing for your curiosity. “I saw the way she looked at him, how worried she was. It… made me wonder.”

Elira seemed thoughtful. “I’ve only heard rumors,” she said carefully. “He’s one of the High Lord’s closest advisors, part of that inner circle. They’re all very… intertwined. Friends, allies, perhaps more sometimes. Elain is well-known as someone gentle, kind, a bit shy. She’s close to all of them, I think. There’s talk that Azriel and Elain… share a bond, but nothing confirmed.” She shrugged lightly. “You know how rumors are.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting. A bond. The word reverberated in your mind, tangling with your own secret discovery. Could it be that you weren’t the only one feeling something unexpected? Or perhaps Elira had it wrong, and it was merely idle gossip. Regardless, your heartbeat fluttered nervously at the thought.

“I’m not one for gossip,” you said evenly. “I just… I need to understand the dynamics so I can navigate these situations better in the future.”

Elira gave you a small smile. “Don’t fret too much. Relationships in that inner circle are complicated, from what I’ve gathered. All you need to focus on is healing and doing what you do best. The rest will fall into place, or so I’ve learned over the years. Fate has a way of showing us truths when we’re ready.”

You pressed the bandages into a neat stack, forcing a steady breath. “You’re right. I shouldn’t get tangled in their personal affairs.” But even as you spoke the words, you knew the tangled knot in your chest was not so easily undone. If a bond truly existed—be it gossip or reality—you’d have to face it in your own way, in your own time.

For now, you settled for the comfort of the clinic’s routine, and the quiet solidarity of another healer who understood that sometimes, wanting answers was part of the human—fae—condition. You’d return to Azriel the next day, as promised, focusing on his recovery and ignoring, for a few hours more, the silent questions that thrummed under your skin.

Night had fully fallen, and the hush that blanketed Velaris seemed deeper than usual. In your small apartment above the clinic, a lamp cast a gentle glow over the modest furnishings. You sat curled on your couch, cradled under a thick cover, a warm cup of tea balanced on your knee and a book open in your other hand. The scent of chamomile and honey rose with the steam, comforting and mild.

A soft, muffled tap came from the window. You paused your reading, glancing up just in time to see Ydil—the eagle who’d followed you through countless journeys—perched on the sill. His feathers ruffled slightly in the night breeze, and his keen eyes shone with recognition. Without hesitation, you set the book aside and rose to open the window. The chill of the winter air nipped at your cheeks as Ydil hopped inside, letting out a small, happy sound—a rough, throaty chirr of delight.

You closed the window with care, sealing out the cold. Ydil nudged at you with his head, as if in greeting, his beak gently tapping your arm. The affection was unmistakable, and a tender smile curved your lips. “Hello, old friend,” you murmured quietly, stroking the smooth feathers along his neck. He had traveled with you through distant courts and unknown lands, watching over you as you honed your healing craft, bearing witness to triumphs and losses. Now, here he was, comforting you in this new chapter of your life.

You settled back onto the couch, rearranging the cover so that it would fall partly over your lap and leave room for Ydil. He hopped closer, tucking himself beside you with a small flutter of wings, drawn to your warmth and the promise of quiet companionship. The lamp’s glow highlighted the subtle patterns in his feathers, the soft shine in his dark eyes. He was safe here, as were you.

Reclaiming your mug, you took a slow sip of tea, the sweet warmth settling in your chest. The book rested on your lap, its pages waiting patiently for your attention. But for a moment, you just breathed, listening to Ydil’s faint rustle as he positioned himself more comfortably, feeling the soft weight of the blanket, and smelling the gentle floral notes of your tea.

Outside, the night carried on in hushed whispers. The starlight and the faint hum of distant laughter from the city below reminded you that life went on, despite all your questions and uncertainties. You would face them—tomorrow, the next day, whenever fate demanded. For now, you had this peaceful moment: a warm couch, a loyal companion, a cup of tea, and the quiet promise that you weren’t alone, not tonight.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. One moment you were reading, the gentle rustling of Ydil’s feathers at your side, the soft lamplight glowing over the pages of your book; the next, your eyelids grew too heavy, and your mind drifted into a gentle haze. The mug in your hand grew tepid, and the words on the page blurred. By the time your book slipped from your grasp and settled lightly against your lap, you were already lost in quiet slumber.

Ydil noticed immediately. With a soft, rustling sound, he slipped out from under the cover. The eagle cocked his head, studying your face as though ensuring you were truly at peace. You looked so tired—no wonder you had succumbed so easily after the long, restless night before.

He hopped lightly onto the arm of the couch, where the lamp rested on a small side table. Balancing his weight with delicate precision, Ydil stretched out and pressed the lamp’s switch with his beak. The soft glow vanished, leaving only the faint silver gleam of moonlight filtering through the window. In that gentle darkness, the world felt hushed, a cocoon of calm around you both.

Carefully, the eagle tugged at the blanket’s edge with his beak. Bit by bit, he pulled it higher until it covered your shoulders, ensuring you would remain warm against the night’s chill. Satisfied, he settled himself beside you again, his head turning as if listening to your steady breathing.

Ydil tucked his wings close, sharing the silence and stillness. Outside, Velaris slept, stars glittering softly in the winter sky. Inside, the quiet companionship of bird and healer spun a fragile moment of comfort—no demands, no urgent calls to duty, no doubts hovering at the edge of your mind. Just rest, and the gentle presence of an old friend looking after you in the deep hush of the night.

----

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[mephiestophyl]

SYLUS MYTH SPOILERS BELOW

My Run Down Beloved.

(angst, sfw, sylus needs a 1000 years worth of hugs and more, g/n reader (no use of y/n))

It is sad, Sylus thinks, while observing his beloved — to have been broken down into a weaker, suppressed version of yourself in this world.

In the old days that he tries not to recall because of the painful longing and agony that twists deep in his gut, boiling himself over with emotions he has yet to make sense of; he still vividly remembers his fated meeting with you — your captivating defiance, the fire in your eyes that burned with a blinding desire for revenge, a flame of hunger that devoured anything and everything that dared to extinguish it. You bowed to no one; you were your own master. Your rage was so beautiful that he enslaved himself to your every whim and desire, no matter how foolish or impossible.

It is not to say that he thinks of you any less as you are now. It is just... he can not bear to watch his beloved, run to the ground with mortal troubles that plague you every day, the weight of your own expectations on your shoulders, always chasing and chasing to find any semblance of certainty in your life; he knows this struggle all too well.

You had helped him once. The roles were reversed; a dragon who adorned a thin, fragile mask of arrogance and bravado befitting of a fiend to cover the ugly truth of who he deluded himself into abandoning a long time ago — a young man who screamed at the world in the dead of night, tearing at his scaley flesh and digging into his never ending wounds, begging to know why he was born this way, why he couldn't just be normal, be like everyone is. Why his slim chance at a human life was pried from his desperate hands. Every stab after another telling him: Ugly. Hideous. You are the very face of cruelty itself. To hell with your kind.

One day, you picked at the aching scars of his past. Your soft touches scorched his skin, the flame in your eyes burning holes through the mask the dragon had thought to be impenetrable, unveiling that vulnerable young man who never stopped hoping for someone to save him from himself.

Your delicate, strong hands cradled Sylus' face, forcing him to face you. To face himself.

"You act mature, but you were sealed away for so long... Sylus, you're still a young dragon at heart, aren't you?"

Your hands had gripped the parts of himself that he used to gouge out daily within the shadows of derelict caves, wrapping your hands around his horns and tail, as if to say that you are seeing him for who he his, instead of fighting or fleeing like everyone else did. Sylus had pushed himself away from you, but it was already too late. You had exposed the weak and naive parts of himself that he thought to have killed in the days of his youth, and now all that was left was the awkward fumbling of a man who had to come to terms with his own weakness. He had never allowed himself to be pried open like this before — it was always with spears, swords, arrows, and insults that pierced his heart, instead of the knowing gaze and lips of a sorceress who had a penchant for dragons.

Again and again, you continued to embrace the parts of himself that he had rejected, even being so daring as to fall in love with and save the very dragon who sought to devour you. Sylus knows that this will all end in pain, but love was never founded on the basis of logic; he will dance with you in this tango of love and loss until the very end of time.

He sees you for who you are in this world. Though weak, he is weak too. Despite how he still has trouble accepting his own faults, he will welcome yours with open arms.

You took care of him once. Now it is his turn to take care of you.

[greengoblinswifey]

Hope— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you and Nicholas Chavez were deeply in love during high school, but he broke up with you to pursue his acting dreams in LA, promising to come back for you. after years of lost contact and watching him achieve fame, you held on to his promise but when you reconnect, it doesn’t go how you hoped.

warnings— mentions of sex, heartbreak, rejection, angst.

a/n— requests are wide open like my legs for nicholas <3

When Nicholas first told you he’d been cast in General Hospital, the pride in his voice was unmistakable. “I’m finally doing it,” he’d said, eyes bright with excitement. “I’m really going to be on TV, and I want you to be proud of me. This is everything we dreamed about.”

You had hugged him tightly, trying to ignore the growing ache in your heart. “I am proud of you,” you murmured. “You know that.”

But the day he left, he’d pulled you into one last embrace, whispering, “This isn’t goodbye, okay? When you’re done with college, I’ll come back, or maybe we’ll find each other along the way. I just- I don’t want to hold you back. If you love someone, you have to let them be free.”

Your heart had broken in a thousand pieces that day, but you nodded, trying to be strong. “I’d wait forever if it meant we’d end up together, you know that?”

You watched him rise to fame from afar, earning new roles in Netflix shows, your heart swelling with pride each time he’d land a new one, even while missing him was a constant ache.

You moved to Los Angeles after college to live with your sister, a film producer, hoping maybe fate had plans for you and Nicholas to cross paths again. Memories flooded back, late nights spent tangled up in each other's arms, your first nervous kiss under the stars, and promises you’d whispered about the future you’d planned together.

Now, years later in LA, you could hardly believe it when you saw his message pop up on your phone. “Hey, it’s been a while., I miss you.” And then, the message you’d been hoping for, “Wait, you’re in LA too? Let me take you out to dinner.”

When you finally met up, it was as if no time had passed. He hugged you tightly, his familiar scent bringing back a rush of memories. “You’re really here,” he said softly, looking at you like he couldn’t believe it.

You laughed, trying to hold back tears. “Of course I’m here. Did you think I’d forget about you?”

He shook his head, his hand finding yours. “I hoped you wouldn’t. You know, every role, every award, I kept wishing I could share it all with you.”

As he drove you to his mansion, you couldn’t help but marvel at the life he’d built for himself. “I can’t believe this is yours,” you said, glancing around at the luxury surrounding you. “You really made it.”

He smiled, that charming grin you remembered so well. “All those late nights paid off. But you know what? None of this means anything without you.” Your heart fluttered at his words.

That night was incredible. The two of you slipped back into the rhythm of amazing sex as if no time had passed, and you reveled in the warmth of being together again. But after the passion faded, something felt off. He didn’t cuddle you and clean you up like he used to. Instead, he said, “I’ll call you an Uber. I’ve got an early call time.”

Your heart sank. “You’re not gonna make me stay?”

“Not tonight. I really have to be up early.” Reluctantly, you gathered your things and left, confusion swirling in your mind. As you sat in the back of the Uber, that strange feeling gnawed at you, but you tried to shake it off.

Days passed without a word from him. “Maybe he’s just busy,” you told yourself, but deep down, you felt your heart shatter all over again.

Then came the day your sister invited you to the set of her new film. Eager to see her in action, you put on a brave face and headed to the studio. As you walked around the set, a familiar laugh caught your attention, and you turned to see Nicholas. Your heart leapt, but just as quickly, it plummeted when you saw him passionately making out with a girl, his hands all over her in the same way he’d touched you just nights before.

The sight felt like a dagger to your heart. Anger and sadness surged through you, but walked over to confront him after the girl left.

“Nicholas!” you shouted, breathless with rage and heartbreak.

He turned, looking startled. “Hey! I—”

“Save it. What was that?��� You pointed at the spot where he’d just been. “You ghost me, and then I see you making out with some girl?”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “I’m sorry. We broke up for a couple of hours. I was sad and lonely. I was going to text you, but it just, it didn’t feel right.”

“Didn’t feel right?” You shook your head in disbelief. “I loved you, Nicholas. I waited for you, and then you just use me and move on?”

He stepped closer, desperation in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really wanted to reach out. It’s just, things got complicated.”

“Complicated?” you echoed, voice rising. “You think it’s complicated for me? I loved you for years, and I gave you everything! You used me and discarded me!”

He sighed, looking genuinely regretful. “I know I messed up. I just didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

“Too late for that.” You turned away, fighting back tears.

The pain of watching him walk away was like a weight pressing down on your chest. You had thought this time would be different, but it felt like the end of the line all over again.

That night, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas. Your heart raced, but as you opened it, anger surged through you. “Hey, I’m really sorry about earlier. I’ve been seeing someone since I got to LA, and I didn’t mean for things to get complicated.”

You stared at the screen, disbelief and rage colliding within you. “Complicated?” you typed back, your fingers shaking. “You think this is complicated for you? You just used me, Nicholas. You broke my heart and then moved on like I was nothing.”

His reply was quick. “I never meant to hurt you. You have to understand, this is all new to me. The fame, the attention.”

“So, what? You just replace me with someone else? I turned down so many guys for YOU. I waited for you.” The hurt in your voice echoed in your mind as you pressed send.

“I thought we could pick up where we left off. I didn’t mean to lead you on.” His words felt like daggers.

“You didn’t lead me on? You fucked me, sent me home then ghosted me! I loved you for years, and you just tossed that aside?” Your heart raced as you read his response.

“I didn’t know how to handle it! I thought you’d moved on too,” he replied, sounding desperate now.

“You fucking idiot I didn’t, and if I did I wouldn’t have fucked you. I thought we had something real. But clearly, it wasn’t the same for you.” You felt tears welling up as the pain of betrayal washed over you.

“It was real for me, too. I just got scared.”

“Scared? Scared of what? Being with me? You’ve built a whole new life, and I’m just some girl from your past?” The hurt in your words made your chest ache.

There was a long pause before he replied. “You’re more than that. You always will be. But I can’t change what I’ve done.”

“Then don’t contact me again,” you typed, your heart breaking as you hit send.

“Wait, please don’t say that Y/N.”

But you didn’t reply. You tossed your phone aside, burying your face in your hands as the reality of the situation crashed over you. How could you have been so blind? He was living a dream, while you were left with hope.

You felt lost and unsure of how to move on, but you knew you had to. “I’m done with this,” you whispered to yourself, wiping away the tears. “l’ll move on. I will be okay.” It would take time, but you were determined to reclaim your heart, even if it felt impossible right now.

As the weeks passed, you focused on picking up the pieces of your heart, throwing yourself into your role as your sister’s assistant on set. Every day, you watched Nicholas interact with his new girlfriend, a co-star in the movie. They laughed, kissed, and shared intimate moments, and it took everything in you to maintain a brave face. Inside, your heart ached with memories of what you once shared with him.

On a particularly tough day, you overheard Nicholas talking to his girlfriend in the trailer, laughing at a joke you had once told him. You turned away, willing yourself not to cry. “I’m not going to let him see me sad,” you whispered under your breath, reminding yourself of how far you had come.

Despite the lingering feelings, you knew deep down that he wasn’t your one. Yes, he was your first love, your first everything, and the promises you made felt real, but it was time to let go. Eventually, you met someone amazing, a man who understood you and made you feel cherished in ways you never thought possible. When he proposed, it felt like the culmination of everything you had dreamed of, and you said yes without hesitation.

The day you announced your engagement on Instagram was one of the happiest of your life. You couldn't help but smile as you posted a picture of your ring, the caption reading, “Forever starts now.”

But then, the unexpected happened. Nicholas saw your post and immediately sent it to you and replied, “Can we meet for coffee? I need to talk to you.”

You hesitated, anger and hurt mixing with the memories of the past. “There’s nothing to talk about, Nicholas. If you have something to say, text it.”

He was quick to respond. “I’m so sorry. You’re my one. I wish I had waited for you. I miss you. No one compares.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief. “It’s too late for that. I’m getting married. You had your chance, and I’ll never give you the opportunity to hurt me again.”

You felt a surge of empowerment as you hit send, but a small part of you felt a twinge of sadness for what could have been. With that, he responded but you ghosted him, just like he had ghosted you before, leaving him to reflect on what he lost.

A few months later, news broke that Nicholas and his girlfriend had split. You were blissfully happy in your marriage, surrounded by love and support from your husband and family. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that you had moved on and found your true happiness.

As you looked back at the heartache of your past, you felt gratitude for the lessons learned. You had finally moved on, and this time, it felt right.

[hxney-lemcn]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Confused — Twilight Princess! Link x gn! reader

summery: you find your life turning monotonous without your childhood friend around, but when he comes back you find yourself conflicted. thankfully, he has his ways of making you feel better.

tw: mentions of getting hurt (not described tho), hurt/comfort, linked universe.

a/n: ALWEHFDLKGJ I LOVE LINK!!!! Finally wrote for him!!! Words kept getting put down I couldn't stop myself. Also, heavily inspired by @maple-the-awesome's The Chain Meets You, His Partner but also vastly different lol (so go read that too if you haven't).

wc: 3.6k

Master List

Trying to ignore the sweat that dripped down your brow, you continued to watch Talon hack and swing at the dummy that was set just outside of Link’s treehouse. He had left, again, on a dangerous mission that you had little to no information about. Once again left in the dark. So you didn’t think he’d mind if you used his equipment for training. You're being filled with sorrow for multiple reasons, but the main one at the moment was for Talon, who felt the need to learn how to fight to protect the village. A task that  you had failed at. Something that ate at not only you, but Rusl, Colin’s own father. It ate at you for a different reason than Rusl, as not only had you failed at protecting the other children, but you had failed Link, who had set out and brought them back. A task that shouldn’t have fallen onto his shoulders solely, but became his burden to bear as both you and Rusl were too hurt to travel, let alone fight. 

You had cried when he came back (much to your embarrassment). Cried happily that he returned. Then cried solemnly when he had told you about how he not only saved the children of Ordon, but had saved all of Hyrule. Cried for just how quickly he had to grow in the few months of his travels, how he found solace with someone that wasn’t you (you knew that was selfish, but you just couldn’t help it). If the villagers had thought you and Link were close before, they were surprised that you had managed to become closer. You never left his side, always trying to do chores before he had the chance. Link needed time to rest, but you knew he would refuse to…so you had to force him somehow.

That felt like forever ago as he once again found himself placed with an even heavier burden than before. Traveling through different dimensions to kill some sort of shadow beast. You weren’t one hundred percent on the details as Link as rushidly explained that he was leaving and he wasn’t sure for how long. That had been months ago, and you found yourself taking over his role in the village. You were the ranch hand now, as well as the defender since Rusl was needed at home to help take care of his newborn. Which led you to this moment, teaching Talon how to defend himself. He was still young, so he had time to learn of the best stances, strikes, defenses, and more. And even if you weren’t as great as Link when it came to a fight, but you were still pretty darn good, which is why Talon asked you. 

You were brought out of your reverie when Talon let out an excited cheer, jumping up and down as he pointed out the broken pumpkin that once acted as the dummy’s head. With a small smile, you congratulated the young boy, telling him to go take a break and play with the other kids. To your satisfaction he did just that, running off into the village as you let out a sigh. You didn’t mind the kids, in fact, half the village were kids. No, you just weren’t as close to them as Link or Ilia were, but they didn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. Just as you were about to make your own way into the village for your much needed break, you were caught off guard as you were brought into an embrace. Panicking, you went to elbow whoever decided it would be a smart idea to catch you off guard, only to be swung around in a circle. You grasped onto the strong arms that held you by your waist, turning your head only to see your greatest cause of stress for the past few months. 

A mix of emotions washed over you as Link set you down, letting you turn to face him fully. Happy once more to see the man you loved, relieved to see that he was not only alive, but no visible injuries, and a bit annoyed. Annoyed that he just pops back in and acts like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just left you alone again, like he hadn’t just left for a mission that could’ve left him dead in a world he was unfamiliar with. Where you would’ve never known of his status, if he was alive or dead, left to forever ponder the fate of your childhood friend. In the end, your relief won, staring into his azure eyes that shone with pure adoration and happiness. 

“You’re back already?” You whispered, like if you spoke any louder he’d shatter before you and you’d wake from a dream. He nodded, always one who expressed himself with his actions instead of words. “To stay?” You clarified, and that was when your heart dropped. His smile fell, and his gaze drifted away from you. 

Yet he still refused to let you go, if anything he pulled you in closer as he spoke in a similar hushed whisper, “Came here to restock our supplies.” Before you could ask what he meant by ‘our’, you heard multiple footsteps approach, causing you to pull away from Link much to his dismay. Each time he was pulled away from you he felt like he was missing a part of himself. He almost downright refused to leave you when he came back from saving the forest temple and saw you laying battered and bruised in your bed. Your despondent attitude had caused him great heartache, unable to stay and lift your spirits as he had to clear the twilight from the rest of Hyrule. Instead, he kissed your battered and bruised skin that day hoping that his love and adoration for you would seep through your skin and reach your bruised soul. Instead, it seemed his affection had done the opposite, and as you littered his own face with kisses of your own, he could feel the regret, self hatred, and sadness drenched in each and every peck. You had given him the most soul crushing look as he exited your room to continue his journey. He knew at that moment you blame yourself for the children being taken, for not being able to come and help him on his journey.

And just when everything seemed to go back to as normal as life could get, it got uprooted once more. That sorrow filled your eyes once more when he brought up leaving soon. Once more, he longed to stay by your side as your hand cupped his cheek, stating that he shouldn’t have the world rest upon his shoulders again, how it wasn’t fair he couldn’t just live his life like any other hylian. Deep down Link knew you were right, and as he met the Links from the other dimensions, he knew it was unfair that they also had to bear similar burdens. Yet at the same time it was a solace that he met others who were dealt similar hands as him. So when it was time to go back to his dimension, where you would be there to greet him, Link had been overcome with eagerness, wanting to see you once more, talk of his adventures, and give you a few items he deemed you’d enjoy. He completely forgot it wasn’t to stay, and when your loving expression turned sour he felt his heart drop. 

Before he could try to cheer you, the rest of his group had finally caught up, causing you to stare at the multiple blond men who wore green tunics. You blinked rapidly, wondering if you had hit your head to cause such a sight, because it almost seemed like many Links of different variations stood before you. 

“So this was why you were running so fast,” One of them huffed, the only major difference was the scarf he wore around his neck. An awkward air settled around you all, and you found yourself itching for a reason to excuse yourself. You’re sure anyone Link would travel with was nice, but you always had a harder time getting to know new people. 

“Everyone, meet my friend,” Link gestured to you, a warm smile lining his lips once more. Then he introduced you to each individual. Apparently they were all Link, just from their own times/dimensions. It was honestly hard to wrap your head around the whole situation, but they all went by unusual names to clarify who was who. Your Link being called Twilight (or Twi) due to the darkness your land had fallen to years ago. 

“It’s nice to meet you all,” You smiled politely, hoping to not come off as awkward as you felt. “Unfortunately I have to go help Fado with the ranch now.”

“I can–” Before your Link could offer to help, you sent him a sharp glare that quickly shut him up. 

“You need to rest,” You scolded, and as your gaze fell onto the others you clarified. “You all need some rest. You should stay for the night at least, Link—Twi has room in his house to fit you all.”

“But–”

“No buts,” You shook your head, already starting to walk towards the village, the argument ending before it could even begin. You could hear some chuckles from the group, but you paid no regard. 

To clear your mind from everything that just happened moments prior, you found yourself cleaning the goats stalls at Fado’s ranch. Clearing and refilling their food and water troughs, shoveling out their poop, stacking hay bales that will be used the next day, then preparing to herd all the goats back into the barn. A routine you had grown accustomed to in Link's absence. This was his job…had been his job, but it was yours in the meantime. It unsettled you how well the village could do in the absence of Link, how no one dared to utter his name. Or perhaps they thought the topic would upset you…they wouldn’t be wrong in that regard. 

Just as the sun started to set, you closed the doors to the barn, ready to head back to your home and prepare a warm bath to rid yourself of the grim accumulated from a day of hard work. Of course things could never be so easy. Link stood by the gate, watching you close up. As you approached the blond hero, those tumultuous feelings from earlier rose once more, unsure if you could handle any more emotional encounters. 

“Come,” Link waved at you, nodding towards the village. “Wild made dinner.” You planted your feet, ceasing your movements as you felt your eyebrows furrow. On one hand, you felt like you were being unfair to Link's companions, but on the other, you felt completely exhausted both mentally and physically. Waking up before the sun rises and falling asleep long after it sets does one to someone's body. Not to mention the constant work that was piled onto you, from working on the ranch to training Talon, you hadn’t had much time to yourself, and you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. And when Link sensed that you stopped, turning around to face you, you're sure the bags under your eyes, slouched posture, and how you could barely keep your eyes open screamed everything you felt. The bone deep ache that just wouldn’t go away. 

Still, he grabbed your hand. His calloused palm slotted in perfectly with your own. As he pulled you past everyone’s house, stopping in front of his own you almost gave in, too tired to fight back. Instead he quickly went in and came out with two bowls of what you assume is stew. You quickly grabbed the bowls before he could spill them on his climb down. Once more, he grabbed his bowl, then your hand, and pulled you towards the spring.

The crystal water lapped at your feet after you pulled your boots and socks off, curling your toes in the pristine sand. Both you and Link sat in silence as you ate, the starry sky peaking through the trees that swayed with the small breeze. Slowly, you found your body unwinding, each tense muscle coming loose with each small wave of the spring. The stew was good as well, filling your stomach with something other than the basics you had been forcing yourself to eat. You scowled into your bowl when you realized you were feeling better than you had in a long time, and that always seemed to be when Link was by your side. 

Like he could sense your thoughts, he scooted closer to you, arm to arm, nearly thigh to thigh. Lifting your gaze, you were met with his worried one. His eyes searched your face like he was deciphering a language only he could…and in a sense maybe that was true. With a full belly and an exhausted body and mind, your eyes started to droop and you leaned against the blonde next to you. No matter what, he was still Link, still your childhood friend that you grew up with, and you’d always cherish him. 

“I missed you,” He muttered, gently brushing away any hair that managed to fall onto your face.

“I missed you too,” You mumbled back, the warmth of his body inviting you into a peaceful sleep. A comforting silence had fallen over you both, making it harder for your struggle to stay awake.

“I love you,” Was all your mind could barely comprehend before you fell unconscious. 

When you awoke the next morning, you half expected to be by the spring with a sleeping Link by your side. But to your disappointment you were in your room. Of course, being the gentleman he is, he carried you home and even tucked you in. You’d have half the mind to be embarrassed, but this was Link we’re talking about. You both had done and said more embarrassing things around each other than you’d like to admit. And when you opened the curtains you nearly had a heart attack realizing you were late as the sun had already risen a good amount. You shuffled around the room and put on your clothes, trying to ignore the thought that Link had undressed you for your comfort the previous night. Stumbling into your last boot, you ran as fast as you could, ignoring your rumbling stomach in favor of not getting scolded. (Not that Fado would actually scold you, if anything he’d be thanking Ordona for letting you rest a bit). 

Arriving at the ranch, apologies lining your tongue, you felt your mouth drop at the sight of all the Links already at work. The smallest Link, Wind, if you remember correctly, dropped his crate at the sight of you and ran over. You winced, hoping that the crate didn’t contain eggs or glass, but got sidetrack as the young boy smiled brightly at you, asking a ton of questions right out of the gate. 

“Good morning! Did Twi go out with you last night? What did y’all do? He seemed pretty happy when he came back. How did you both meet? Are you both–” Wind was quickly cut off as an older Link approached with a stern look. 

“Wind, you know better than to toss crates around,” Time scolded. “And don’t overwhelm the young one with too many questions. Now go and finish stacking those crates.” With a pout, the kid gave you one last look before dashing back to his previous task, leaving you and the older male alone. Helplessly, you watched all the chores you typically get done ten times faster than you’ve ever seen, feeling unsure what to do without work. Seeming to sense your cluelessness, Time spoke up once more, mentioning that Twilight had stayed behind at his house. And so, you found yourself wandering over, only to pout this time. Link was watching Talon’s new skills with the sword, all the village kids watching them both. 

Beth had spotted you first, shouting your name and waving at you with a giant smile, “Look! Link’s back and he’s gonna spar with Talon!” “Spar?” You repeated as you blinked. Talon was in no way shape or form ready to spar yet, but Link had a sparkle in his eye that only spelled mischief when your gazes met. Talon was jumping up and down, excited to not only see Link again, but to do something you had been holding off on. With a resigned sigh, you only shook your head, letting out a short ‘okay.’ The two got into a fighting stance, and you had to fight the itch to correct Talon’s incorrect posture. Instead, you continued to watch from the sidelines as Link let Talon start with the first strike. The skill difference was obvious, and it was clear that Link was going easy, but in the end, Talon ended up knocked to the ground. And as you expected, Talon complained, waving off his own mistakes and pinning it onto someone or something else. To your surprise, instead of asking for a rematch, Talon ran off with his friends following shortly after. 

Bumping your shoulder slightly, Link drew your attention back to him, a boyish smile resting on his lips. After all this time, all the hardships he went through, he still managed to have a young air around him. You weren’t sure how he did it. You reciprocated the gesture, bumping into his shoulder slightly harder. 

“I don’t know what to do,” You couldn’t help but confess. “All the work is getting done and I feel like I should be doing something.” Link looked up with a hum, tapping his chin in thought for a few seconds. That cunning grin once again settled on his face before he grabbed your hand and sprinted towards the springs. 

“The springs, again?” You asked with a short laugh. “Didn’t we do this last night?” You felt your skin prickle as he sent you a devious look, picking you up like you were nothing and tossing you into the water. Thankfully, he threw you into the deeper part, or else that fall would’ve surely hurt. Wiping the water from your eyes, you sent the man your best glare you could muster, grabbing the front of his tunic and pulling him in further. In retaliation, he sent a wave of water at your face with a chuckle. With a huff, you tried to do the same, but the wave wasn’t as big as you’d like it to have been and you both laughed. You felt the darkness that had enveloped your heart slowly melt away as both you and Link played like you used to when merely children. Something you had missed dearly in the past few years. 

As your playful fight slowed, you couldn’t stop yourself from watching Link, or how the water fell from his hair and dripped back into the spring. The last three words he muttered last night rung back through your head. All the love and adoration you held for him gathered into a pool, ready to spill past your lips, and who were you to fight that? Not you, you thought as you eyed his lovely smile, one you would die for. 

“I love you,” You stated, heart beating wildly as Link turned to face you. At first he looked at you with shock, but that melted into pure warmth and affection as he waded closer. So close that you felt your body warm at the mere thought of his touch, felt your heart quiver in anticipation for his next move, and stomach flutter with all the love you held. 

It was silly. When you were younger, you recalled that you’d pretend to be his spouse and play house. How you stated you’d both get married someday, and how he would always go along with your nonsense. You said all those things with your full chest before, but now saying your true feelings felt like a battle. It made everything more real, and as you grew older you assumed he had never taken your childish ramblings seriously. Yet you seemed to be proven wrong as he gently cupped your face with one hand, the touch sending heat blazing throughout your entire being. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes, expecting a kiss…only for him to nuzzle your nose with his own. Yet the disappointment was drowned with the fuzzy butterflies that flew in your stomach at such an intimate act. One so loving and pure. 

Link’s actions screamed volumes louder than any words could as he littered both your cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, or anywhere he could reach with kisses. A bittersweet reminder of the day he came back after twilight had taken over. And just like that day, you reciprocated, this time with a heart full of light and happiness. Instead of ending it there, you pulled him in for a proper kiss, one you had wanted for as long as you could remember. He wasn’t as surprised by your actions as you wished he’d be as he reciprocated without hesitation. You didn’t mind his chapped lips, or the way you both kissed clumsily, because this was Link. Your Link. And you wouldn’t have him any other way.

And once you both pulled away breathless, ignoring how you both still stood in the spring with sopping wet clothes sticking to your skin, you took in the other's presence. The warmth you both offered each other, the happiness, the love, the need and the want. You were like two pieces to a puzzle, a part of you missing with the other gone. And in that moment, everything felt like it clicked into place. He may still need to continue his journey, but you knew that he’d always find his way back to you, just like he’d always know where to find you.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Aftercare {part. 15} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

Long Awaited Punishment {part. 14} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: disclaimer- i've never been in subspace so i have no real experience with what it's truly like. in this chapter i'm writing how i've seen others write about it and based off some things i've read. so it may not be 100% accurate but that's okay because this story is made up anyways. i hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback. xoxo

This story contains: aftercare, talks of anal sex (pegging), subspace, male sub/female dom, crying, peeing (in a toilet, of course), comfort

{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - softrry - au!harry - subrry - dom!reader }

word count- 2,664

After a night of dominated Harry, you give him great aftercare with a relaxing bath and your nurturing demeanor.

Previously-

You slowly remove the strap-on from his body, which causes him to cry out more intensely for a moment, and then you carefully pull your end out as well. Despite feeling just as drained as you believe Harry is, you understand that the dominant role comes with responsibilities. The key responsibility is aftercare, and you conclude that the first step in providing aftercare tonight is to help Harry calm down.

-Continuing

You adjust your position on the bed, moving so you're no longer behind Harry, allowing him to see you and recognize your presence. His eyes remain closed, tears streaming down his face and soaking the pillow beneath him. You lean closer, softly caressing his wet cheek with your gentle hands. "Shh, it's okay. You did such a good job, baby. It's okay. I'm gonna take care of you now."

Your words have not yet registered in Harry's mind, but the gentle sound of your voice causes his eyes to open slightly. He stares at you, and it's evident that he's not entirely present; he seems to be in a state of subspace. His gaze appears to look past you rather than directly at you. While you may not have extensive knowledge of subspace, you're committed to helping Harry return to the moment. You want to provide him with lots of cuddles and let him know how safe he is with you.

The first step into helping him come back down to earth is a nice bath, you think. It'll also be beneficial because you both are actually sweaty and need to wash off the smell of sex from your bodies. As you go to climb out of bed, Harry mutters his first words since entering an alternate state of mind. "No, don't leave me."

You turn to face him as he clutches your wrist, and the look on Harry's face is nearly one of alarm. "Hey, hey," you reassure him, "I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m just going to run a bath for us, alright? I’ll return shortly." Harry hesitantly releases your wrist, his gaze following you as you step out of your bedroom, heading off to an unknown location. Even though you had just informed him of your plans, he struggled to hear you clearly, as the intensity of his orgasm still reverberates in his ears.

In a brisk manner, you enter the only bathroom in the house and turn on the bathtub. You hastily hang up two towels on the rack beside the bathtub and set the soaps you'll need on the edge of the tub. Once the water is running, you return to your room where you find Harry crying on your bed, lying on his back, unclothed and exposed.

He had finally stopped crying before you left to get the bath ready, so him crying once again has you worrying. Stepping to the side of the bed, you ask slowly, "Harry, why the tears? Everything's okay."

With his hearing slowly coming back, he's able to understand your words enough to answer, "You......you left me." Another sob leaves his throat and it brings tears to your own eyes. You know he's only acting this way because of how intense everything just was but it still saddens you to see him so upset.

You climb back onto the bed and straddle Harry. You then lean down to wrap him in a tight embrace. Initially, his arms lie loosely at his sides on the mattress, but he eventually raises them to encircle your back. He truly needed this moment of comfort. The weight of your body helps to anchor him in reality, and the sensation of your naked skin against his intensifies his feelings of vulnerability.

"Shhh, I'm right here. I have the bath running for us. Would you like to join me and relax?" Harry gives a timid nod in response. You carefully detach yourself from atop his body, which he seems to dislike, and take hold of his large hands, aiding him in rising from the bed. He's initially a bit unsteady, his mind still disoriented, but with your help he soon finds his balance and walks toward the bathroom with you.

As you start to lead him towards the now filled tub and turn the tap off, Harry stops you and quietly inquires, "Um, can I have a wee first? Gotta wee."

You smile up at your boyfriend with affection and answer, "Yeah, of course. I'll step out to give....."

Before you could finish, he blurts, "No, don't leave. S'...... turn away, I guess." The last thing Harry wants is for you to leave him again. He doesn't care that he has to pee, in his current state of mind, there's no embarrassment in his body.

Turning around, you find yourself staring at the floral wallpaper while unintentionally hearing the sound of Harry pissing in the toilet. After what seems like an excessively long time, Harry finishes and flushes before you turn back to help him step into the tub. You enter first, allowing Harry to follow, which allows his body to lean against yours. While the tub is not particularly large, it offers just enough room for both of you to relax and move around without discomfort.

As the warm water envelops you both, Harry lets out a sigh, surrendering to the comfort that surrounds him. The warmth of the bath water, your body resting against his back, and the gentle scratching of your fingers on his scalp create a peaceful setting. He's nearly asleep when you speak softly, "Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. I need you to come back to me, alright Harry?"

Although Harry continues to experience a slight mental haze, he predominantly feels as though he's returned to reality. His thoughts are becoming clearer, and he's beginning to recall the majority of the events from this evening. However, the manner in which you're currently treating him makes him want remain in a submissive mindset for a bit longer. But, he understands that he should let you know he's back, present mentally, to avoid causing you any more concern. You've never observed anyone in a state of subspace before.

"M' back, baby. Just really like it when you talk to me all soft and baby me. Feels nice."

You sigh in relief. "Thank God, you worried me there for a second. With all your crying."

"I cried?" Harry turns his head from where it rests on your chest and questions.

"You don't remember, Harry? What do you remember?"

Turning back around to face forward, he pauses to gather his thoughts before replying, "I remember you teasin' me. Then you briefly sat on my face. After that, you fucked me so hard I came from both my cock and my prostate. Then my memory jumps to havin' a wee and gettin' in the tub where we are now." It appears Harry blacked out following his orgasm, which is quite fascinating. You wonder if there will ever come a time when you can enter subspace with him, if you're even able to. You know not everyone can get into a subspace.

"You had a prostate orgasm? Didn't know that was possible."

"Hh-mh, some men can, others can't. Though technically all men can achieve one, it's a matter of stimulatin' it just right and allowin' your body to embrace the stimulation. Why do you think I like anal sex so much? Yeah I enjoyed havin' sex with men and the presence of a male figure because m' attracted to them, but really anyone can fuck me and if done right, it feels so - fuckin' - good, man or women. Even fucked myself in the past. Doesn't feel as good but it's good enough."

While you recline against the tub, Harry positioned in front of you, you quietly take in his words. The exploration of anal sex for men is a captivating topic in your opinion. In your past relationships and hookups, the men you were with typically shunned any contact with their bums, associating it with being gay. Most men are determined to avoid any accusations of being seen as gay. Because of their stubborn ways of viewing things, they remain unaware that if they were to try anal sex, they might find it quite enjoyable, especially if it's as pleasurable as Harry says it can be.

In all honesty, you probably wouldn't have had any desire to participate in giving anal to your previous partners. The only reason you were open in doing so with Harry is that you feel at ease around him and are confident in his hygiene practices. Otherwise, you would have kept your distance from that aspect of Harry as well.

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

After a few minutes of silence, you become aware that the water is cooling down and decide it's time to actually wash up before settling into bed. You sit up from your position against the back of the tub to retrieve the soap, which causes Harry to also sit up. In doing so, he lets out a sharp hiss, prompting you to worry. "Are you okay, H? Are you hurting anywhere?" Given the intensity of your actions tonight, it wouldn't be unexpected for him to experience some soreness in his joints and, other areas.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Harry admits, "M' bums a bit sore, s'all. But it's not your fault. It typically happens when I get fucked or pegged as well as havin' gotten spanked. It'll go away in a day or two."

Despite the lingering worry within you, you accept his reassuring words and start applying soap to the washcloth. Once the cloth is well-lathered, you begin gliding it over his body, though there's certain areas he has to wash on his own due to your position behind him. After making sure his body is clean, you take the old cup located by the tub and drizzle water over Harry's head to wet his hair. You're uncertain why you opted to cleanse his body first, but it doesn't matter at this point.

Ensuring his hair is nicely wet, you take a generous amount of shampoo and apply it to your hands before working it into his brown locks. In your effort to pamper him, you massage your soapy fingers into his scalp, prompting Harry to moan softly. When you feel you've given his scalp enough attention, you lift the cup again and instruct Harry to lean his head back to keep the soap out of his eyes. He follows your directions, just as he did in the bedroom earlier, leaning back as you carefully rinse the shampoo from his hair.

Once you've finish bathing him, you swiftly wash your own body before pulling the drain plug and aiding each other in standing up in the tub. You're the first to step out, taking your towel off the hook to dry yourself off before wrapping it around your naked body. You then take Harry's towel and move towards the shivering, tattooed man. Assisting him onto the bath mat, you ask, "Are you cold, baby?"

Nodding as his teeth chatter, he stands there while you dry his wet body off. "Ye...yeah."

When Harry's body is completely dry and his hair is only damp, you ask another question. "Do you wanna wear a pair of briefs or sleep naked?"

"Naked, please." Of course he'd choose sleeping naked.

With your towel still secured around your body and Harry's towel held tightly in your hands, you open the bathroom door to discover an adorable sight at your feet. Harry's cat Pixie is comfortably sprawled out on the floor just outside the bathroom door. It seems she's been patiently waiting for you to emerge so that she could receive some affection. Upon noticing his cat, Harry lets out a soft coo, bending down to pick her up.

"Pixie, sweetheart, were you waitin' for us? Have we failed to give you the attention you deserve this evenin'? M' sorry. Mummy gave me all the attention tonight and she's so sorry too." Your eyes nearly pop in disbelief when you hear Harry refer to you as the mother of his cat. You don't dislike being called Pixie's mum. In fact, your affection for Pixie has grown immensely since you've been living in Harry's home. However, the reference makes you envision a time when that cat is a human baby, and he calls you mummy because you truly are a mother to a child you've brought into existence.

Snapping out of those thoughts, you smile up at Harry as he gently holds Pixie in his arms and proceeds to follow you to his room. The decision to sleep in his bedroom for the night is probably influenced by the state of your bed, which is soaked with bodily fluids, and your current fatigue giving you no energy to deal with that situation tonight. Thus, you'll be sleeping in Harry's room. Which is fine because you often flip back and forth between sleeping in your room or his.

While he walks around the bed completely naked, his cat still in his embrace, the slight limp in his walk is hard to miss, presumably due to his sore bum. You can't help it when you let out a laugh, prompting Harry to look at you from where he stands on the right side of his bed. "What? What's s' funny?"

"It's just..... your walk. Looks like you've......"

Harry interrupts you, completing your sentence with a sleepy grin. "Looks like v' what? Been fucked in the ass? Because I did get fucked in the ass, by my hot, sexy, confident, girlfriend." He sets Pixie down softly at the foot of the bed, where she curls into a tight ball. You let your towel fall away as both of you slip beneath the duvet, naked and vulnerable only to each other. A worry crosses your mind that Pixie may get scarred seeing so much nakedness, but Harry assures you that she's seen far worse things than just naked people and that's something you'd rather not think about.

As you reach to turn off the lamp that sits on the nightstand beside the bed, you're taken aback when Harry shifts over and lays half his body on top of you. Although you don't mind the closeness, a little warning would have been appreciated. His head rests on your right collarbone, with a significant portion of his body draped over you, his right leg positioned between your legs. He casually throws his right arm over your left shoulder, gently tracing the soft, bare skin in a calming manner.

Before Harry drifts off to sleep, you whisper in the dark room, "I love you. Hope you enjoyed tonight and I hope I took care of you enough after, when you were in, um, subspace."

With his eyes shut, Harry murmurs in response, "You were incredible, m'love. The sex, the aftercare, everythin' was perfect. You attended to my needs so well while you were in control and even afterwards in the bathtub. But, just wait; my turn is comin' up. I plan to have you wear those vibratin' panties you purchased throughout the day, teasin' and edgin' you, before I completely rock your world in the bedroom."

You smile at his sweet words but then lose the smile after hearing his promise to you. "Not in the ass though, right?"

"Hm? Me fuckin' you in the ass?" You hum a yes and Harry continues, "Well, not unless you want me to. I can, but I honestly wasn't even thinkin' of that when I said I was gonna rock your world. We'd only do what you're comfortable with."

"Yeah, I'd need some time to think about letting you try anal on me first. Maybe one day, but no promises. Otherwise, I can't wait."

You both end up drifting off to sleep, pressed together, naked, and dreaming of what's to come next in your growing relationship.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

A Trip to the ER {part. 16}

[nanamiluvs]

wriothesley nsfw alphabet !

pairing : wriothesley x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 1.7k

warnings : smut content, reader is afab, wriothesley being both a cutie and an ass, handcuffs, biting, breeding, choking, oral (both receiving), wriothesley is clingy, slight cum play, roleplay, jerking off, spanking, creampies, rough sex, it's wriothesley what do you expect, dirty talk

a : aftercare

wriothesley gets cuddly after sex. it may or may not lead to another round, but he loves the feeling of aftermath with you in his arms. has mad separation anxiety, leading him to make sure you're not leaving his side by pulling you closer into his embrace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

b : body part

wriothesley is everything but a humble man. he knows his body is one sculpted by gods and wouldn't shy away from admitting it. if he has to choose one, he would pick his biceps or torso. if you asked him about his favorite body part of yours, he'd say hips and ass without hesitation.

c : cum

wriothesley is generally a messy person, and there's no exception when it comes to sex. he likes it messy. he likes seeing your body covered in ropes of white cum, loves filling you up to the brim and then fucking his cum back into you. off-white in color and a little thick in density. he also cums a lot, so there's that.

d : dirty secret

wriothesley loves being handcuffed and dominated. treat him like he's some filthy criminal and he's cumming in his pants. also likes it when the roles are reversed, and most likely not going to hide that version of the scenario.

e : experience

wriothesley has had a fair share of men and women in bed before and it's quite obvious. he knows he's experienced, he knows how to make you beg for mercy and come untouched. not proud of it, but not embarrassed either.

f : favorite position

wriothesley's favorite position is doggy style and he doesn't even try to hide it. he loves holding your hips while thrusting into you, fucking like an animal and watching as his cock disappears inside. he would lean forward, press his chest against your back and bite your neck, kitten licks and kisses following. he likes it especially as he can whisper filthy things directly in your ear. that being said, wriothesley fucks in a lot of different positions and likes to try them out, so nothing is off the table with him.

g : goofy

wriothesley has a variety of moods when it comes to sex. if it's usual, he's going to be the little shit he is. if it's intimate and gentle, he will whisper reassurements and praises, repeating how much he loves you and how well you take him. if he's jealous or stressed, it's obvious from how angry he gets.

h : hair

wriothesley likes body hair in general, and doesn't prefer to groom himself often. he's not at the level where it gets in the way, but definitely likes it to be there. he likes it better when you're also not shaven, but it's only a preference for him and not really a game changer. he loves seeing the hair down there get sticky with your mixed fluids, like i said, wriothesley likes it messy. he would shave if you tell him to because he wants to appear as the best form of himself in your eyes. won't tell you he did it because of you, instead saying he had a change of mind.

i : intimacy

wriothesley doesn't see sex as a necessarily romantic thing. yes, it can be, but most of the time it's the pleasure and release it brings. on rare moments of vulnerability, when the your usual act of fucking becomes making love, wriothesley is whipped. he will caress your body, holding you in his arms as he slides into you. he doesn't believe he deserves this moment, not with you. making love is very intimate to wriothesley and it takes a long way of trust to get to that point. regardless, wriothesley mostly fucks and wouldn't change that.

j : jack off

wriothesley isn't shy at jerking off to the thought of you. at work, when he's especially stressed, he doesn't mind palming the bulge formed in his pants, wishing you were there to help him out. he prefers to do it with you, obviously, but when you're away and he has no choise he's alright with masturbating. he also likes to watch you get off by yourself, dick hardening to the sight of you chasing your high.

k : kink

wriothesley has a long list of kinks up his sleeve.

‎ ‎ ‎ biting : wriothesley is a biter. doesn't matter where, doesn't matter when, he will bite and that's that. he will bite your lips while kissing, bite the insides of your thighs before going down on you, bite your neck while pounding into you, just bite and bite wherever he can.

‎ ‎ ‎ breeding : wriothesley would get aroused to the thought of cumming inside you, filling you up with his cum over and over until he sees your belly bulge. he loves to see the cum gush out of your hole, sore with the way he abused it with his cock. also loves it when you say you want to breed him. breeding is one of the things he won't admit he particularly likes, yet it's so obvious with the way he grunts and groans in your ear.

‎ ‎ choking : wriothesley loves having control of you and you having control of him. his hand reaches out to wrap around your neck, pressure just enough for you to feel it yet need more. he would also get turned on when you do the same, choking him while you ride him, he thinks you're just too adorable with your hands around his neck.

‎ ‎ ‎ spanking : considering you have given him the permission to do so beforehand, wriothesley loves spanking you as he fucks you from behind. he thinks it's just so cute seeing your ass redden with the impact, his large palm immediately coming down to soothe the area with his touch.

l : location

wriothesley may get off to the risk of getting caught but he doesn't want anyone else seeing you like that. so sex with wriothesley is mostly in his office, your bedroom, the shower, any closed space where you two are alone can be a place to fuck.

m : motivation

wriothesley gets turned on to everything about you. he's generally a quite horny person, so just seeing your body writhing under his much larger one is enough to keep him going. he's also motivated to pleasure you the way no one else can.

n : no

wriothesley is very much larger and stronger than you and sometimes fails to control his strength. so with him, things like knife play are out the window. he may be extremely kinky and like it rough, but he would never forgive himself if he actually hurts you.

o : oral

wriothesley is a man who will eat you out for his own pleasure. he loves the taste of you, loves dipping his tongue between your folds and lapping up your slick, the taste getting him drunk the more he has it. he wants you to come on his face, to squirt on him. his tongue will work you through your orgasm, careful not to waste a single drop while your walls clench around the small muscle. regardless of how much he likes going down on you, he thinks it's even better when it's your pretty lips wrappiny around his cock, your saliva mixing with his precum and staining your chin. he would hold your head and thrust inside of your mouth, lost in the feeling of your tongue swiping across his member. he likes to cum inside your mouth but he wouldn't mind cumming on your face either.

p : pace

wriothesley is ruthless when it comes to bed. he can and will pound into you without mercy, the bed creaking with the force of his thrusts. no matter he's being fast or slow, wriothesley knows how to push in deep.

q : quickie

wriothesley is up to every single kind of sex, so quickies aren't off the table with him. but he would much prefer a long, dark night to spend with you, to take his time relishing in your body and pleasuring the both of you.

r : risk

wriothesley is talented when it comes to sex, almost everything he tries turns out to your likes. he's very experimental and thinks trying everything at least once won't hurt anyone.

s : stamina

wriothesley can go longer than you ever can. it takes a lot for him to cum, and even then, he can last several rounds with ease.

t : toys

wriothesley doesn't really care about toys unless it's for binding. he loves being handcuffed, he loves handcuffing you, he loves tying you up and he loves getting tied up by you. anything restricting movement is a turn on for him.

u : unfair

wriothesley may as well be a criminal the way how cruel he is during sex. he will use anything and everything against you, wanting to get you all riled up before even properly touching you.

v : volume

wriothesley doesn't moan, but he's definitely a groaner and grunter. almost guttural as he pounds into you, voice deep and low with vibrations straight down to your core. he speaks a lot, too, with dirty talk being an indispensable tool to him.

w : wild card

wriothesley likes being dominated every once in a while. he wants to be at your mercy, to give up the authority and power he has to bear all the time and just submit to you. you wanting to dominate him makes him want to fight back, turning it into a battle of power igniting the thrill in his gut.

x : x-ray

wriothesley is longer than average and quite thick down there with a slight curve to the right. the shaft is a shade darker than his skin, the tip having a reddish tone underneath. has veins sparking up here and there, overall, wriothesley likes the way it looks.

y : yearning

wriothesley has quite the high sex drive, he's going to be up for the act whenever you want him to be.

z : zzz

wriothesley wants to hold you in his arms and drift off to sleep after making sure you did. he tires himself out during each session so it doesn't take long for him to fall asleep. he can stay awake if he wants to, but honestly, why would he?

i might expand on the dirty secret with a drabble if someone requests it bc i know i want that.

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (Epilogue)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: semi-public sex, smut, angst, fluff, sexual tension, little domination & praise kink ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name. You can read this as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

The first months after the shooting were both wonderful and terrifying for him. Contrary to his grandfather's predictions, he did not stop thinking about her; moreover, he missed her so much that he did not know what to do with himself.

He got used to their daily conversations, the embrace of her warm arms, falling asleep between her soft breasts, watching Disney movies together with her with a big bowl of popcorn.

She brought a breath of fresh air into his life, a smile, lightness and laughter, forcing him to let his inner child that he had always suppressed within him come to the surface.

With her, he was not ashamed to be weak, tired, sad, discouraged. She gave him the comfort of knowing that all his feelings as a human being were natural and desired by her, no matter how ashamed he might be of them.

They tried to see each other every two weekends, taking turns visiting each other. Although he wanted to spend time with her walking around museums and parks, they usually ended up staying in bed all the time off, trying to make up for lost time.

They also saw each other at interviews to promote the series, for which the producers sent the actors in pairs, and unfortunately, although they tried to hide it, a few gestures and glances during them caused both her and him to be flooded with a wave of comments from fans so large that they had to block them from being added to their profiles.

Nooo, they're not a good match. 😫

It's just a promotional trick. They're going to break up after they finish airing the series. 😒

Leave my prince alone!!! 🤬🤬🤬

I'd love to fuck her myself, not gonna lie 👀

It's already clear where the chemistry between them comes from, lol. Pathetic. 🤮

Both of them were very much affected by the nasty comments and criticism, fearing that the production would draw some consequences against them, but it turned out that this made the whole project generate even more interest before the premiere, which pleased them.

However, in between the nasty, bitter remarks, they also received messages filled with good emotions, wishing them luck, saying that they were great to watch, that they complemented each other perfectly in interviews, that it was clear from the trailers that there was genuine affection between them.

They tried to cope with it all by talking for hours on the phone, sometimes crying together from sadness and exhaustion, falling asleep with speakerphone on, waking up in the morning and seeing that they hadn't hung up all night.

He felt he was ready to move on and thought everything through, at the same time wanting to surprise her.

"– how was your audition? –" She asked softly, excitement in her voice.

"– unfortunately, not very successful –" He lied, fiddling with his pen between his fingers, sitting at his desk, having just exchanged emails with the director of her theatre, with whom he had spoken personally a few days before about the terms of his future employment.

"– oh no – I'm very sorry – how are you feeling? –" She asked clearly worried, making him feel remorseful for a moment that she would believe he was suffering.

"– fine – I wasn't feeling that role – I'm lucky that I can be more choosy now – and how are you, little one? –" He hummed, writing back in an email that, as agreed, he would turn up in three days to sign the contract in their town.

His girlfriend grunted, clearly very excited by the news she had to share with him.

"– apparently they've hired a new actor in our theatre, but no one knows who it is – the director is very mysterious –" She said, her voice light and warm, filled with joy.

"– mmm – are you excited to have a new colleague on stage? –" He murmured as he sent the email, closing his laptop with a quiet click.

He heard her laugh at his words.

"– not in the way you suggest –" She said.

"– are you a good girl when I'm not around? –" He hummed, licking his lips involuntarily, feeling the pulsation in his trousers at his words.

"– well –"

"– are you touching yourself? –"

"– I –"

"– answer me – don't lie –"

She was silent for a long moment making him grin, biting his lower lip.

"– so you haven't been a good girl, or am I wrong? –" He sneered and heard her swallow hard.

"– you know what happens to bad girls, don't you? –" He asked, looking at the display of his screen, feeling his heart pounding fast.

"– but –" She finally mumbled out in embarrassment.

"– mmm – I'll see you soon –" He murmured and hung up, knowing that he had left her in complete shock for sure with her panties wet with her moisture.

The third thing he enjoyed most right after fucking her and talking to her was teasing her.

The next day the removal van took his things to the flat he had rented on short notice figuring they would find something together later, and after two days he drove to her town straight to the theatre building.

He went inside through the main entrance and ran quickly upstairs, praying not to meet her on the way, heading for her director's office. The man welcomed him warmly, saying that he was very happy that an actor with such charisma would be performing on his stage.

From the audience it was impossible to see whether his eye was real or fake, and his scar could be covered up with make-up if necessary.

His grandfather was furious, saying that he was giving up a world-class career for second-rate theatre, but he was relieved.

He didn't want to go through again what he was going through now – being torn apart by paparazzi and fans, being in the spotlight all the time.

He was tired of it and decided that, although it was a great adventure, like her he wanted to work in theatre, where artistic sense, monologues and dialogues counted more than nudity and sex.

It was what he wanted for both of them.

The director said it was time to introduce him to the whole crew.

"– I kept it a secret from everyone so that she wouldn't accidentally find out about anything –" The director laughed, a short, grey-haired man with a warm voice and a good-natured face, a visionary and a lover of the classic literature he was staging in his theatre.

"– I can see you with the eyes of my imagination in the roles of Hamlet and Ophelia – you've been wonderfully matched, I have to give you that –" He said softly, and he nodded, thinking in the back of his mind that indeed, this was a fantastic idea.

He felt excited like a little child and thought in the back of his mind that it was because of her, that she had changed him, making him fight for his fulfilment, his comfort, his joy.

"– my dears –" He called out, stepping onto the stage during their rehearsal for The Wedding of Wyspianski, his Rhaenys dressed in Slavic folk costume and a garland on her head turned towards them along with several other people.

Her eyes grew big in disbelief at the sight of him.

"– I would like to introduce you to your new colleague, who from now on will be playing on the stage of our theatre – I am very pleased –"

Everyone looked at her and she just stood there, looking at him and his grin full of satisfaction, breathing loudly through her mouth, her bright eyes hot with affection, disbelief and happiness that apparently shook her body.

Several people laughed as she threw herself into his arms and burst into a loud, panicked sob, whooping and panting with her own tears, his broad hands stroking her hair and back while his lips placed warm, reassuring kisses on her face hot with emotion.

"– shhh – it's okay, little one –"

She looked at him in disbelief, gushing with energy and joy as she introduced everyone to him one by one. He was relieved by the warm welcome given to him by the other actors, some of whom could have been his parents or even grandparents.

They seemed very close to each other and addressed each other warmly.

He was allowed to stay in rehearsal to see how they worked, so he watched as his girlfriend played a young bride, a village girl marrying a nobleman, during whose wedding many unexplained, mysterious events occur.

He smiled the whole time, watching her, satisfied that apart from one brief kiss there was no intimacy on stage between her and her partner, exactly as she had described it to him in their telephone conversations.

When it was all over she ran up to him in her folk costume, all hot, breathing loudly through her mouth, field flowers entwined together on her head.

"– what do you think?! –" She asked, and he hummed under his breath.

"– I really like your staging – I need to read this drama – you look amazing –" He hummed. He smiled under his breath as she sat on his lap – the seats in the audience were sunk in darkness so the people on stage couldn't see very well what they were doing.

"– I can't believe it – you've been lying all this time –" She muttered simultaneously embittered and delighted. He shook his head at her words.

"– I told you I had an audition – I just didn't say where –" He stated.

"– you said you did badly –" She said, wrinkling her eyebrows – she squealed as he caught her around the waist and pulled her closer, making her feel the hard bulge in his trousers.

"– that was my subjective assessment which was clearly not shared by your director –" He grinned, looking at her with his lips slightly parted. They both sighed as her hips rubbed against his pulsing erection, her gaze hot and misty.

"– my little girl can't stand it? – shall I take you to the toilet? –" He sneered and she swallowed hard, red with embarrassment and nodded.

Nothing more than panting and moans left their throats as they locked themselves in one of the cabins, their mouths immediately clinging to each other in greedy, loud, messy, sticky kisses. Their saliva clicked each time their lips pulled away from each other, his hands pulled up the material of her skirt and petticoat, pulling her panties off her thighs.

"– turn your back to me –" He commanded, and she did so without a word of objection, in a natural reflex leaning over and bucking her buttocks towards him, knowing what he wanted to do. His hands exposed her bare hips to him and what was between them, her opening glistening from her wetness, pink and swollen.

He hit her womanhood with a sharp, short slap and she jumped up with a quiet squeal and whimpered.

"– quiet – I warned you – I said: no touching – didn't I? –" He asked, gently rubbing and massaging the little spot that pulsed all over and leaked from his stroke, teasing the puffy bud between her plushy folds.

"– 'm sorry – I tried –" She confessed with embarrassment, panting heavily, rolling her hips to the rhythm of the strokes of his hand, trying to find a better source of squeeze.

"– the deal was different –" He said coolly, parting and rubbing her throbbing, dripping wet slit, her cheek pressed against the wall all red with pleasure, her lips parted in a helpless moan.

"– it's all mine – the sight of your fulfilment, your moisture, your little cunt is meant for my eyes –" He continued, as if he was explaining to her some essential, eternal principle, something obvious and logical that she could not change. She trembled as two of his fingers slipped between her slick, throbbing walls, stretching her core.

"– yes – I'm sorry – I missed you so much –" She mumbled, rocking her hips to the rhythm of the thrusts of his fingers, which teased and pressed the spongy bud between her fleshy folds deep inside her, from which a trickle of her moisture ran down her thigh.

"– mmm – I know, baby – I missed you too –" He confessed, recognising that although he wanted to, he couldn't last much longer. This sight and the euphoria that gripped his body made him let go of her as his hands slid down to the belt of his trousers, undoing it – her eyes opened in hope, her breath accelerated and uneven.

"– please –" She muttered.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, grabbing her by the waist, the other releasing his throbbing, fat erection, the tip of which he guided to her leaking, swollen slit.

"– thaat's it – there you go – fuck –" He exhaled, slowly forcing his way between her hot, fleshy walls, clenching greedily around his cock, sucking it inside her.

"– yes – yes, God, please, yes –" She mewled, immediately beginning to roll her hips to the rhythm of his impatient, fierce thrusts, fitting his pulsing erection inside her again and again, though they tried to restrain themselves, their panting and moans echoed around the restroom.

"– Rhaenys –" He muttered, sinking his face into her fragrant, hot neck, her scent wonderfully familiar, her insides moist and warm, welcoming him with ease. He thought about it, thrusting into her with slick, sharp stabs – how deep he was in her body, how much they united in this chaotic, viscous act of desire.

"– Aemond – o-oh, fuck, fuck, oh, God –" She cried out as he imposed a fast, aggressive pace on her, pounding into her with the deep, sharp pushes of his hips, opening her wide with his manhood throbbing painfully with longing.

"– shhh – shhh, little one – just a little more – yes, that's my girl –" He praised her, panting heavily as he felt her reach the edge, her breath heavy and loud.

Nothing more than moans and grunts left her lips, her little cunt gave him a few more thirsty, steady squeezes before she shuddered with sweet fulfilment, her wetness running down his thighs as with the last, loud slaps he reached his peak inside her with a sigh of delight.

Since she was taking the pills, he could fuck her whenever and wherever he wanted.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, embracing her tightly from behind, while still rocking his hips inside her and hugging her like a little, longing child.

He wished she would say that they were going to watch some new cartoon or comedy in the evening, that they were going to lie in their sweatpants, spread out comfortably on her bed, cuddled up, eating popcorn, kissing and caressing each other.

"– m-maybe – maybe let's go to my place – we'll watch something and relax – I can cook you something, but we need to do some shopping –" She whispered, stroking his arm, and he purred, delighted by her words.

"– yes – yes, that's what I need –"

[sarucane]

How did Stede know that Ed wanted to "watch the world burn"?

This one is fun because it's such a smooth and well-written character development that it's actually really easy to miss what a big shift happens for Stede in the first three episodes of S2. But in E1, Stede is saying this about Ed

and in less than an hour of screentime, he's mostly caught up with what's actually been happening to Ed.

So how'd Stede figure that out? Get to know Ed better, despite being separate from him?

By letting go of ego.

Stede's decision to bail on Ed in S1E10 is driven by selfish low self-esteem. He thinks he doesn't matter to Ed, that he's brought Ed to ruin and Ed will be better off without him. And that's actually held back his emotional investment in the relationship: Stede clearly misses Ed, but he's not devastated over the breakup to the same degree that Ed is.

But by the end of S1E10, Stede's gotten to understand himself better, and his relationship to other people. But he's also gone from not understanding that he's in love to idealizing the relationship between him and Ed, telling people they're "on a break." At the beginning of S2, he's projecting his own insecurities onto Ed, while at the same time trying to believe in a torrid love story starring himself (idealized) and an idealized version of Ed. An Ed who's still got Blackbeard's black beard.

These ideas are rooted in the same conviction that made Stede leave in the first place: he doesn't understand that he's important to Ed, so he can't absorb the fact that what he did was immensely hurtful.

In the second episode, Lucius forces him to really deal with the things he's been denying. He tells Stede "you broke him." And he does the thing that Stede just wasn't managing to do: he gets Stede to think about what's been happening from Ed's perspective, without Stede's insecurities blocking his imagination. To think about just how badly Stede hurt Ed. And to think about what pain and loss like that might mean for someone as damaged as Ed: hopelessness.

Far from Ed's life being "better without me," Stede has to face the idea that Ed might think his life will never get better again. That while Stede has been holding out hope for a reunion, Ed may have given up on both Stede and himself.

That means it's all on Stede, to hope and to act. And he rises to the challenege.

Stede doesn't hesitate when he thinks Ed is in trouble. And he doesn't doubt that Ed needs him, shouting "I'm here!" as soon as he sees the Revenge. He faces what he finds on the ship, and sets about fixing what can be fixed, pulling the knives out of the walls.

He doesn't quite know how bad it's gotten. That Ed couldn't hold onto the ideal-pirate dramatic "watch the world burn" drive. That Ed hit a point of actual cruelty and suicidal despair.

But Stede knows Ed enough to be able to absorb that information when he gets it. To face and accept the reality of the darkness inside the man he loves.

And then to embrace his own role in keeping that darkness from consuming Ed. In the first episode, Stede was putting off looking for Blackbeard because he thought he'd make Ed's life worse. In the third, Stede tells Ed he can come back to life because he's safe now that Stede's here.

And then Stede, again, embraces some selfishness. Asks Ed to come back to him. But this time, it's not the kind of unhealthy selfishness that makes someone obsess over what they mean to others. It's the kind of selfishness that makes people hope life might get better again. Lets people choose relationships they want, and exist in them consciously. Makes someone a strong enough person that they can give, and receive.

[edenianprincess]

INTRO !!      ❤︎ ׄ                                               Different ways to say I love you .ᐟ

Sweet gestures that demonstrate their love to a gender neutral!reader. Characters chosen are Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas. Content warning: none, just fluff. Please, respond to the poll at the end!

Bi-Han !

He lets you call him by stupid nicknames, he acts annoyed when you're using them, but he won't admit to anyone or even to himself that he is fond of them. Everything you make him feel is so unusual for Bi-Han, he doesn't know why he seeks for this warm fuzzy sensation every time he has your attention and affection, when his body as well as his soul are made of ice, but he does, and your foolish nicknames provide them. So, if someone else uses them, he would not only see it as an attack on his honor, not hesitating to put them back in their place, reminding them of whom they're talking to, but also, who do they think they are to call him like that when they’re not you. He prefers if you only use them in private, for plenty of reasons which include that he thinks your love life should be kept private, it isn't a subject of chatter for everyone to be entertained with, but also a matter of respecting his clan's honor as he is its head. He'll be grumpy if you do, but let’s be real, when is he not.

"How many times do I have to apologise for you to move on, snowhan?" Your voice whispers in his ear as your body is glued to his back, an arm hugging his neck while your fingers are twirling a loose strand of his hair that escaped from his bun. The man in your arms lets out a grunt. "Those champions lack senses for making fun of me, Liu Kang wouldn’t have stop me I would have knock them some of it in their head. And you.. my own partner disrespecting me in front of them." Despite his back facing you, you can feel his glare that is meant for you when he spits those words. But, even with the anger within him, he doesn’t move on from where he is, not even moving an inch when you take his clenching fist and start doing circles on them. "I thought I made it clear but apparently it wasn’t enough for you to get it. How can we bring glory to the Lin Kuei, when my companion lacks perspicacity and respect for their husband, out of all people you should know better than putting on a foolish act… " His voice fades away, it seems like he was going to continue his rambling but loses himself instead in your fingers gently brushing his silky hair, his bun long gone since, causing his grunts to become quiet moans. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again." You suddenly remove yourself from him. When he feels your fingers being taken away from his hair, it catchs him off guard as he turns around to see you smiling innocently but also playfully, which he returns with a dirty look that questions as to why did you stopped. You tell him that you’re just respecting his space like a good spouse should. "Nonsense, there's nothing preventing us here. Continue what you were doing. Now.” He pulls you back with ease in his embrace going back to the soft moment where for once he let his guard down, and that’s a sight no else should be able to see.

Making sure you sleep well. Rest is important, he doesn't want to have a weak lover by his side, you must keep your energy in check and if you don't do it, he will. When he goes to bed at the same time as you, he'll wait for you to sleep first before he does, making sure you don't go on a sleepless night, and it gives him a moment alone to appreciate your features. If you can't sleep, he'll help by brewing warm tea or if necessary, draw a bath, anything that will help he’ll do, it’s one of his rare soft moments where he lets the cold facade fall for once, it’s in the night where it feels like you and him without the world or the worries. When he is occupied during the night because of his role as Grandmaster, he'll go check up on you, always, to see if you're sleeping safe and well. 

He opens the door slowly of your shared bedroom and walks at quiet steps to your sleeping figure, when he is next to the bed he let the blanket he searched for fall on your body and make sure to cover the exposed areas. The night is colder than usual and you aren’t used to the cold like he is, he doesn’t want you to end up ill and weak.  After he finishes tucking you in, he takes a moment to trace the features of your face delicately, his finger travelling from the lips he enjoys kissing to the cheek he loves holding, but it doesn’t last long as he has to go, with one last stroke he moves away to the door that he closes after looking at you again. Each times, seeing the moonlight illuminating your soft features in the dark night reminds him that seeing you being so peaceful is one of the reason he wants to strengthen the clan even more, the universe is full of threats from every realms and now even from every timelines, it gives him unspeakable worries if one of those threats reaches you, it’s too late to go back when the Lin Kuei was being held back and weak, time is changing and he needs to go forward with it. 

Kuai Liang !

Using his powers to make you feel better.  Whenever he sees you shivering cold, he'll automatically wrap his hand around your waist, offering to share his body heat. But, if that's not enough he'll slightly heat himself up, making sure to not burn you but still bring enough warmth. You're free to lean on or snuggle to him whenever you want to, he isn't one to reject his lover when they are in need, and it would be a lie to say he doesn't find it adorable when you seek for him to warm yourself up, sometimes you’re throwing yourself on him so he has no choice but to hug you back, not that he complains, his arms are always open and keep their high temperature for you. He is also your personal heating pad for stomachache, it saddens him to see his loved ones in pain, so he's happy when he's able to help ease it even for a little, by rubbing where the pain is.

It is a particularly cold day and nothing that you found could bring you enough heat. You know it is the day for Kuai Liang to train the recruits so you go to the training place and seek for him. When you find him, you lightly tap on his shoulder without saying a word, and just by the look in your eyes Kuai Liang knows you need something, so he follows you into a secret hiding from the rest of the clan where you can talk. “What is it, my lo-” He is about to ask, but you interrupt him by throwing your arms above his waist and push your face into his toned chest that you can feel through the fabric. It takes him by surprise but he quickly laughs and returns the hug, you feel his hot touch on your trembling body, causing to send shivers of excitement down your spine. A sudden wave of comfort and heat rushes through your skin as he uses his power. You don’t want to hog him just for yourself but it feels so good and you don’t want to leave him for the moment either, his strong but gentle hands slowly start doing small caresses on your back as if you were the softest and most precious thing he ever held in his hands. “Does it feel better, love?” His lips whisper close to your face, so close you can feel his breath warming up your cheeks. You can think he is using his power in his smooth voice to make your heart melt like that. “Yes.. yes, it does.” Your voice drifts away as you let Kuai Liang’s warmth embracing you fully, enjoying it as long as it last.

Letting you do his hair. Every morning, you have the habit of brushing his hair until every knot is untangled, then putting them in a high and tight bun so he won’t be bothered when he goes to work. He can do his hair alone, but he trusts you with it, besides from his parents when he was a boy, nobody has ever touched his hair. It feels intimate and relaxing whenever your fingers pass through his hair which feel like silk, for once it’s like he puts a pause on everything and lets you manage the moment, with nothing being able to interrupt it. It’s impressive, even for him on how can you put the pyromancer in a vulnerable state just by your touch, while his enemies had train all their life to get even an once of his vulnerability, it’s like any fire within him extinguish with your presence. He really wishes to pay you back in some way, if you have long hair he’ll do them if you let him, styling you in hairstyles that he thinks embellish your natural beauty. And of course, his hair ties and pins become yours and vice versa.

“And, here you go.” You say as you rearrange the bun making sure no hair escaped. When you are finished, Kuai Liang turns around to face you, you feel the rough skin of his hand passing over your hand and gently take it to pull it lightly to bring you closer to him. “Thank you, beloved. I can't think of anyone better.” His gaze who holds sincerity it doesn't leave your eyes, still holding your hand he intertwines your fingers in an unbreakable link between his. “It's a simple gesture, however I'm happy to be the one to do it.” You smile at him, you really feel lucky to be the only one who can share this moment with him even for how simple it is, passing your fingers through is hair is almost like a small addiction, his smooth hair framing perfectly his handsome face is a sight you can't get tired of. “It may not be much but it means a lot to me.” His hand strokes your chin before pulling it and his lips capture yours in a kiss. It feels sweet and soft but you can feel the deep emotions he is putting in it, he is not letting your face go from his hand until his lips leave yours and smile tenderly at you.

Tomas !

Being your number 1 fan. This man is quite easy to amaze, but nothing amazes him more than his sweet partner that is you. Everything that you try receives a compliment from Tomas, some may say he is a fool in love, while he’ll say that he is simply proud of you. His significant other kicking ass? That’s my bae for you! Showing off a new trick you just learned? It’s impressive, could you teach him how to do that? (Definitely not an excuse to spend some time with you) While the praises are genuine, they’re also here to make sure you don’t fall into the rabbit hole of insecurities, which unfortunately he has sunk in too many times. He would hate for you to feel bad about yourself, it means for him that he failed as a boyfriend and by extents, he failed you, that’s why he needs to cheer you up and show how much you’re incredible in his eyes.

It is one of those days again, where a gloomy feeling overcomes your mind and manifests itself when you're looking at yourself in the mirror almost defeated by its reflection, the more you look in the mirror the more you are able to see each imperfection and you suddenly start to feel like a mess. Tomas who has just arrived to check on you, notices your weird behavior, how you twirl your clothes, and look at yourself in every angle with a frown on the mirror that you have been looking at for a long time now, he knows what this means and he knows he needs to put a stop to it. Your investigation is suddenly brought to an end when you feel a pair of strong arms around your waist. “Hey, you look particularly beautiful today, have you done something new?” Tomas asks with curiosity and a small smirk, he is looking at you in the mirror and you notice his eyes are filled with fondness which makes you smile in returns. “I just woke up, Tomas. I didn't even brush my hair yet.” “Oh, I suppose it's your natural charm that makes you beautiful then.” When he says that you can't help but kiss him on the cheek, no matter how many times these bad feelings come back they could never surpass the feelings that your boyfriend is making you feel.

Making you surprises. Tomas is always trying to show that he cares for his partner, he fears that he may not show it enough so he tries through little pleasant surprises that he knows you will like. For example, bringing breakfast in bed, it’s convenient that most of the time he wakes up before you, as the way of teaching from the clan does not allow to sleep in and wake up after the enemy does. He’ll cook your favorite food of course, and somehow the fact that it is made by him makes it even more appetizing but also he learned from the best cook that he knows who is Madam Bo, honestly you don’t know who is sweeter between the breakfast or your boyfriend. He also likes to leave love notes when he is on duty in places he knows that you go and sometimes those notes are attached to cute gifts like plushies, chocolate or flowers.

Good morning, Love! I hope you slept well and did beautiful dreams (hopefully about me). I regret not being with you here but we had to leave early this morning and I didn’t want to wake you up so early. I made you a quick breakfast before leaving and this time it didn’t burn! I promise I’ll make up for my absence but for the time I wish you a nice day and can’t wait to hear about what you did tonight. With love, Tomas :) Your smile grows when you re-read the notes that Tomas left, you kept a small pile of them in the drawer and like to go through again when you’re in an emotional mood. Some of them are small, others are longer, they can be funny or romantic with a deep otherwise cheesy love quote, either written by Tomas or this ‘anonymous’ person who signs as ‘The King Of Smoke’ and hopes to not be caught by your boyfriend so he can keep sending you gifts that represents his love. Whatever those letters are, they always contain his sweet nature in them and never fail to touch you.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated.  Imagine Tomas leaving a love note and Bi-Han finds it accidentally, you can’t even imagine the disgust that he has on his face, he is even more displeased with Tomas than he already is, why can’t he keep his personal stuff private and not expose it to all the clan.

[fatcatlittlebox]

I’ve been thinking a lot about how the showrunners have said in the past how much they referred to the Bible for inspiration and the religious symbolism utilized frequently throughout TROP. Also, how many online critics of haladriel cite the Virgin Mary as Tolkien’s inspiration for Galadriel and how shipping the two is sacrilegious. And while I do agree that Sauron is very clearly modeled after Satan, I think to say Sauron = Satan is pretty reductive. I also don't think this is the only theologic parallel in TROP.

I have said before, and I'll explain here that I think where JDP and McKay were drawing from were multiple religious parables: this includes Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. In my opinion, this parallel is an interesting and revealing one.

Like Sauron, Satan had “many names.” He was Lucifer once. In LOTR, Mairon was created by Eru and was once fair and good. Hence the opening line of the very start of this series: “Nothing is evil in the beginning." I think this is a founding principle of the show and season 1. It applies to people, ideas and intentions. Where season 1 sought to establish an origin story of sorts, they started with the "original sin”, the “Adam” and the “Eve.” In this case, the “genesis” of it all begins with Halbrand and Galadriel.

And is Halbrand the "Adam" archetype? I believe at this stage, he aspired to be. Sauron literally was reborn and perhaps saw that as a purifying experience. He wanted, in a sense, to be free of sin, the mistakes and flaws of his past. There is this striking image: an opening shot when we encounter Halbrand on the raft. Before he turns to face Galadriel, he cups water in his hand and he bathes his head: the act is baptismal.

Baptism in Catholicism is meant to cleanse the soul of original sin. A return to Adam. A return to purity. And he fits the description. He is "just a man." A "low man", primordial. They wander through Numenor in awe. Halbrand calls it a "paradise," a refuge to find his peace. And I think this is an important parallel to make because, maybe, Sauron didn't initially desire to conquer this new world, but to reclaim his Garden of Eden. To live free of his original sin. He sees the forge immediately and takes this as a sign, an offer: this is his ripe opportunity. Not to dominate and subjugate, but to be reborn as Mairon before Melkor. He is Halbrand seeking to rechart his path had he not have been seduced by Morgoth. And even if this would be a pale facsimile of his unsullied form, maybe it would be enough. But then there is Galadriel, who becomes his “Eve.”

Galadriel appears to fit the role. In the story of the Garden of Eden, it is Eve who offers the forbidden fruit to Adam. And with it the promise of knowledge, of greatness. Galadriel tells him that his current commoner state is the convenient lie, that the greatest act of reconciliation is to embrace his true self. While this advice may seem sound and was intended somewhat nobly, this is the double-edged logic that led to the fall of Man — his ambition. His pride.

Further deepening associations with sin, heaven, purity and evil is the iconography:

This shot is clearly meant to echo the famous depictions of the archangel St. Michael defeating Satan. And the symbolism is really interesting. Because where St. Michael purged Satan from heaven, Galadriel stops Halbrand. She asks him to spare Adar. Meanwhile, Halbrand is shaking with fury that I wouldn't interpret as emotion over the Uruk’s betrayal. He was almost detached and emotionless when Adar was killed later. Here, he is near tears when he proclaims, “You don’t know what he did!” He’s not talking about the Uruk in front of him. He’s talking about himself. Adar is the proxy for his past, his sins, his demons. Were Halbrand to succeed and vanquish Satan in effigy, he would be metaphorically purging himself. You can see he wants to desperately. But that closure is nullified. Galadriel stays his spear and it becomes symbolic of Halbrand’s failed overture at purification.

But mercy is not Galadriel’s folly anymore than it was for Bilbo to spare Gollum. Redemption after sin is not found in erasing the past. It’s not in making the impure, pure again. It is the balance of darkness and light in which justice collects payment. Something that Galadriel mentions twice in season 1 and is shown in Sauron's vision of their union. His world is in balance.

The loss of innocence when sacrificed for knowledge and greater ambition results to pain and suffering. But also allows bravery and hope to flourish. “Life in defiance of death.” The beauty borne from evil. Galadriel beckons to Halbrand with the promise of such harmony and he starts to believe. That peace and paradise in Numenor, his new "Eden,” are not his fate. She is. With the light of the Two Trees ensnared in her being, he would see Galadriel as the embodiment of paradise made flesh. He can live with his darkness with Galadriel at his side. Her light will provide balance. He cannot be free of the stain of his original sin. Without balance, he is destined to replay it like a broken record.

When we first see him emerge into human form, he has clothed his nakedness. It recalls to mind the creation of Man. However, in this version, darkness and shame follow this “Adam” because he has already fallen. And as we progress through 2 seasons, Halbrand devolves with the snake and serpent emerging as the dominant entity. Towards the end of season 1, he dons a serpent's scales as seen in his armor. By the end of the season finale, after Galadriel rebuffs him and effectively casts him out -- look at this shot. He looks like a cobra poised to sink his fangs into her with a poisonous bite (he succeeds in 2x08):

Like the biblical serpent, manipulation is his tool and one he has employed with great skill and ease. Adar, Mirdania, Celebrimbor, the orcs. He tempts them with promises and praise. Adar describes his way as “slithering.” When Adar commands Halbrand to grovel on the ground in 2x01, this is a reference to the serpent in the Genesis story who was condemned to crawl on his belly by God as his eternal punishment.

Later, when Sauron transforms into Annatar, his manner and dress pay homage to this. His headdress, the detail of his robes, his chest plate and his arm vambrances are adorned with coiling snakes. Charlie had said in an interview that this was intentional. This was his metamorphosis.

But with Galadriel, I posit that he “fell” as Adam not by being consumed with schemes of pride and hubris (as in past and future iterations of Sauron). It was that he fell in love. Which is why this parallel with the Garden of Eden is so important. It is a long argued theological debate that the serpent and the forbidden fruit in this story do not just represent greed but also lust and desire. Adam’s sin was not just borne of his vices but also out of love. He loved his Eve more than his God. He turned away from paradise because Eve held their future in her hand, having eaten the fruit before Adam. So he chose to share that unknown fate so long as they remained bound together. Whether in glory or exile. I believe this is the greater “sin” Halbrand committed when he left Numenor, his "Eden," with Galadriel.

I don’t even think he was aware of it at first. He may or may not have believed in her cause but he had complete devotion to her. He did not seek forgiveness from Eru but he asked for hers. He worshipped her and in doing so committed the greatest transgression. Like Adam, he turned from seeking salvation from God and chose to follow his Eve instead. And for Galadriel’s part, the obvious symbol for the forbidden fruit is Nenya. A ring that was literally made from power forged by good and evil in conflict over a tree. But I don’t think that was the real forbidden fruit here. It was when they chose each other in defiance of the gods. What ultimately gave her knowledge of good and evil? Not a ring. It was her binding to Sauron that opened the door and unleashed such power, love, life, beauty and death upon Middle Earth. The forbidden fruit was a forbidden love. That was the reason for Halbrand's preoccupying fear of Galadriel casting him out. It was because he had already been cast out of paradise in his past life. And when Galadriel shut the door to him, she cast him out of the paradise he was so desperate to rediscover.

[igotanidea]

A pattern : Jason Todd x reader

(Part 1 of How to be a good boyfriend series)

Every word he said to her was a lie...

Or at least that was how he felt.

I'll keep you safe  - when he couldn't even keep her safe from himself. 

You're safe with me - when even as much as her leaving home meant being put on the spotlight. 

I love you - well that was true, but in his love he was so selfish it almost felt like a lie.

Selfish.

That was what he was.

Kissing her with a promise if tomorrow that could never come.

Holding and touching her, knowing he was going to leave her alone for the night. Again and again. Over and over.

Looking at her like she was his sun, moon and stars, even though that excessive attention was putting her in danger from all his enemies, real and potential.

So selfish. 

And yet he could not stop.

Not when she was making him feel the warmth inside. The sense of belonging. 

Not with the way she was bringing something long forgotten in him - happiness.

Then why did It feel like he was using her. Why did it feel like every time she laid her head on his shoulder or chest he was rather taking that warmth and serenity than giving it. Why did if feel like he was nothing more than a little kid, missing the embrace and promise of love and safety then providing it.

He shouldn't be a kid in this relationship. 

"Hey, what's bothering you?" Y/N asked softly, raising eyes onto him, reading his face, searching for the reason for the sudden tension she felt coming from him. 

"Nothing." he muttered. "I'm fine."

"Come on, Jay. Don't act like that."

"Like what?!" He bursted, suddenly getting a heavy wave of self-doubts. Even his Y/N was seeing that he was acting like a child. And this was clearly not what she needed. And now that she knew she was going to leave him alone. Break up with him. Break the heart that slowly started to open up and heal while being with her and--

"Hey. Hey, look at me!" She cried out desperately as he tried to (literally) push her away. Her hands found a way to his cheeks forcing his eyes on hers once more "Stop it. Don't cut me off. Talk to me."

"I don't know how to be a good boyfriend to you." he confessed looking down, unable to see the inevitable mockery that was going to reflect in her eyes. 

"How to--. Wait, what? Jason? Who put that thought in your head?"

"No one. I can tell by myself that I am not what you need."

"Jason--"

"No. Let me finish. I do want to be what you deserve. And that's why I asked Dick-"

"Dick? Oh my god, please don't tell me you asked the greatest playboy heartbreaker for advice in a relationship..." 

"Well, he's got some good tips on that-" Jason mumbled, though admitting that his older brother might have been right about something was at least painful. 

"No." Y/N shook her head, squeezing his hand "No. Jason. Forget them."

"But-"

"Hush. You listen to me now. Although Dick experience in the matter of relationships is undeniable - I don;t think you should take him as a role model."

"Then who, Y/N?! WHO!?" He yelled and regretted it a second later "I'm sorry-- I didn't mean too. It's just--" 

"Look, sweetheart. Lesson one, if you want it, is that there's no pattern when it comes to two people building something together. No one will tell you that when you do things a certain way it will work out. There is no magical number of things a girl and a boy have to do together to make sure they will be happy."

"There isn't?" Jason's face dropped at the sudden realisation. "But-- But then how am I supposed to make sure you are happy with me? How can I ensure that-"

"Jason."

"I really want to --"

"Hey. Stop it!" she chuckled leaning to kiss his forehead "We learn together. That's how."

"But-"

"Stop doubting yourself, okay? I am happy with you, mostly because I get to discover things I never did. Because you like them. Damn, do you think, I would even know I enjoy bike rides, if it wasn’t for you? Or would I know that I actually got the romantic part in me, if not for your Jane Austen addiction?"

"Um--" Jason blushed a little and it was so cute it made her laugh and peck his lips softly,  "Hey... what was that for?" He asked, getting even more flustered. 

"Consider it a gold star for memorising lesson one." she smiled.

"That every story is unique?" He tried to make sure.

"Yes. So let's make sure you don't ruin it with unnecessary silly thoughts, ok?"

He nodded. 

"Then I got one important question to ask...." she took a deep breath - "Jason Peter Todd... will you learn how to be in a relationship with me?"

"I will. And I hereby swear to not listen to Internet couches and tiktok charlatans."

"Finally, you're getting some common sense back..." she chuckled, knowing well enough that his words, even if a little teasing, were a sign that he trusted her. Both with learning, but most importantly - with his heart. And with that knowledge she pledged to keep that part of him safe.

[papaya-queen]

Teenage Dirtbag babyy !! - F2/3/F1 academy grid

my first smau - please be kind I’m new with the tools

Y/N x Paul Aron - Ollie Bearman x Andrea Kimi Antonelli - Abbi Pulling x Doriane Pin

<3

Later - 3 am

Yourusername

Yourusername I’m just a teenage dirtbag babyyy

tagged : paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, racerbia and 6 others

User1 young drivers on social media are a blessing

User2 WAIT IS THAT OLLIE AND KIMI ?!!

            User3 AND DORIANE AND ABBI ?!!

maxverstappen1 stop posting on social media and answer our calls

User4 oh to be a part of that friend group …

<3

Racerbia

Racerbia never let Y/N plan the hangout

tagged : yourusername, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, paularon_ and 6 others

Yourusername hey !!! It was amazing !

User6 AFTER BEARNELLI AND PINING WE GOT PAULY/N ?!!!

Arvid.lindblad actually the best hangout of my life

            Yourusername finally who someone likes my hangout plan

            Landonorris wait until tomorrow morning

<3

The next day

Sunlight was already picking through the curtains when Y/N woke up. Her head was hurting, like someone was hitting it from inside. She tried to get herself up, but some weight was keeping her pinned against the mattress. She turned her head and saw a blond head she knew too well. Sure, her and Paul were big on physical touch but sleeping like this never happened. She carefully shifted to see the room without letting go of Paul’s embrace.

Y/N observed the room and the people in it. She could recognize Kimi and Ollie on the couch opposed to her, the older spooning the other. She had a moment of confusion, but she knew Kimi and Ollie had always been big on PDA even as friends. She kept looking around, checking if all her friends did make it back to the apartment. Arvid, Dino, Maya and Bianca were all sleeping on the floor with some blanket resting on them. And on the armchair, you could find Abbi and Doriane literally glued to each other, managing to fit in the tight chair. Y/N tried to get up to go eat something but all the moving and shifting in Paul’s arm woke him up.

“Hi princess!” he said with the sleepiest voice ever.

“Hi baby!” she responded, hugging him tighter.

Then she got up, after spending a few minutes convincing Paul to let her go. Y/N walked to the kitchen, open the door and faced Charles, Max, Oscar and Lewis. She brutally closed the door before reopening it. “Good morning, everybody!”

“Good afternoon actually!” Charles pointing the clock on the wall. He was right, it was indeed way past noon. 3pm actually.

“So, what’s the reason for the visit?” said Y/N trying to act cool in front of her 4 grid-dad.

“Humm…You don’t remember last night, do you?” Oscar asked.

“Euuh no …?” She responded.

“Well, we have a little explanation to do when everyone wakes up” Oscar sighed.

Max stood up and entered the living room to shout, “EVERYONE WAKES UP NOW!” The mass of teen made a groaning sound, some of them complaining about their head. There was also some confusion like Abbi and Dorianne who were looking at each other, not understanding the how and why they were like this. Same for Kimi and Ollie. After a couple minutes, the other older driver entered the room and told everyone to sit and listen to them.

“You kids are fucking mental; you should definitely know that! Before we start scolding each of you, do you actually remember what happened yesterday?” Charles was endorsing his role as the principal grid-dad of those kids.

“I remember that we met up here, we drank maybe one or two beers then we went to the bar.” said Kimi, rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, and Y/N picked up a worksite cone and put it on her head.” Gaby completed.

“I remember something about Ollie and Kimi, and Abbi and Dorianne, like they kissed or something like that” Arvid said earning some weird looks from the four.

Bianca finished their story and added “I remember Y/N got stuck on a tree, we called Oscar to help but Paul got her back before he arrived.”

“Well we have a base to work on” Max said pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s actually not that bad, I thought they would black out like completely.” said Lewis.

“So kids, you all got wasted at the bar and started doing random shit, like sitting on rooftops, stealing shopping carts, scooters and you also did some private things, you should check your insta especially Bianca and Y/N” Charles resumed the whole night and let all the teens check on their insta and realized all the things they did while he decided with the others grid-dads to post something to try to peace the situation.

<3

Charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 2 others

Charles_leclerc why did we have to adopt that many teens?

Tagged yourusername, paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 7 others

Olliebearman  we’re sorry dad 😖🥺

            Yourusername speak for yourself

User8 the dads regretting their choice 🤣😭

Paularon_ it hurts but it was amazing

User7 The Bearnelli and PaulY/N pic 🥹

Dinobeganovic_ never let me have alcohol ever again

            Maya_weug same

            Gabrieleminiofficial same

____

well that's it ! I'm kinda proud of this, i hope you're gonna love this as much as me ! byye :)

[daydreamingatnight209]

I’m not sure on how I feel about this one, but I’m posting it anways 😅🤞

Feedback is welcome - Hate is not ✨💕

“My Best Friend, My Girlfriend, My Everything”

Colson Baker x Female Reader

Warnings - Slight angst, fluffy ending 💕

Prompts used: Credit goes to all original owners -

1. "How drunk are you?" "V...Very." "Drunk enough not to remember tonight? "Hmm." "Good. I love you. And I'm tired of being just your best friend."

2. "He will never know that I like him." "Why?" "Because I'm just one of the million stars, and he's the moon.

3. I can’t believe it took me all these years to realise how I truly feel about you.

4. "Wow those bloodstained clothes really bring out your eyes... Of course I'm being sarcastic! Get over here and let me stitch you up!"

—————————————————————————

Most would think that traveling with an international superstar who also happened to be your lifelong best friend, would mean hitting the jackpot in life. But realistically after a month stuck surrounded by testosterone in such close quarters with a bunch of men who often act like overgrown toddlers , you can’t help but begin to feel like a glorified babysitter. You suppose it doesn’t help that you also happen to be ridiculously in love with said best friend.

After one particular show, you found yourself back on the tour bus while the others went out to celebrate another successful show.

Just because you were Colson’s friend, didn’t mean that you didn’t have your part to play. You liked to feel useful so you took up a part time role, sharing managerial duties with Ashley. This time you found yourself working with Sam to provide visual content for the fans and ensure that Colson’s schedule was running smoothly.

When the quietness you’d been experiencing over the last couple of hours suddenly ends, You couldn’t help but internally roll your eyes. climbing out of your bunk you go to see what all the commotion was about.

You enter the main sitting space and your mouth swings open in shock. In front of you Colson’s face was caked in blood and his clothes were stained with the same substance Rook was laughing hysterically at him and Slim had a smirk on his face, which he attempts to cover when he sees the look on your face.

“What in the actual hell happened here?!” You exclaim.

“Y/N helloooooo”

Colson rushes over to try and embrace you but you hold him at arms length, not wanting to get covered in his blood.

“Look at this, how cool does this look!” He says giddily, jumping around like an overgrown puppy, trying to show the jagged cut that seems to run down his forehead.

“Oh yeah really cool, those bloodstained clothes really bring out your eyes.”

Colson looks at you with glassy eyes and a slightly confused expression on his face and a pout on this face.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“Yes, of course I am being sarcastic! Get in there and let me stitch you up!” You shout out in frustration and worry. You leave him alone for one night and this happens!

Grabbing his hand you force yourself and his tall frame into the tiny bathroom cubicle, with the first aid kit under the sink.

Colson collapses down onto the toilet seat as you begin to clean his face.

He winces softly as you clean around the wound and begin to apply the temporary stitches.

“How did this even happen anyways?” You ask him as he fiddles with the loose threads on your jumper.

“Rook said I couldn’t do parkour over a car, so obviously I had to prove him wrong” he mumbles, the amounts of alcohol he had consumed during the night finally catching up with him.

You couldn’t help but sport a small smile on your face, because of course it was something just so stupid.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you pack away the first aid kit and attempt to pull him up but Colson just pulls you down easily onto his lap and wraps his long arms around your frame.

“You are that best person I know Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you as my friend”

How drunk are you?" You whisper as you lean against his chest.

“V...Very."

"Drunk enough not to remember tonight?” You asked curious.

Normally Colson’s memory no matter what he drinks is top tier.

"Hmm yeah, probably” he answers, resting his head on your shoulder.

At that response and the fact that you didn’t want him falling asleep in the tiniest toilet possible you stand up and grab is hand once more. He doesn’t protest when you lead him to the back of the bus to where his bedroom is.

He throws his weight into the bed and watch him crawl under the covers.

“Night Kells” you whisper and go to exit the room to head back to your own bunk.

Before you can make it through the sliding door, your best friend speaks up, his voice raspy and slightly needy.

“Stay with me?”

You hesitate at first, not really knowing If you could handle being that close to him for the entire night. Your heart was already beating twice as fast as it should, but you aren’t really great at denying Colson. You never was. So when a cracked, “please” leaves his mouth, you cave and climb under the covers with him.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to claim him but the same doesn’t happen for you. You’ve lost count of how many times you and Colson have shared a bed over the years but where he sees friendship, recently you’ve been struggling to stop the lines from blurring.

Colson wraps you up in his arms subconsciously, like he’s done so many times before, yet this time you find yourself frozen as you stare softy at his peaceful sleeping face.

“I love you Colson Baker. I love you and I'm tired of being just your best friend."

A tear escapes your eye, letting it fall, you wait for what feels forever for sleep to fall over you.

———————————————————

The next morning you are up and out of Colson’s room before he awakens and do your best to avoid him and any awkward conversations that the day might entail. You weren’t exactly to ready to find out if he remembered his night.

No one really picks up on your behaviour and you think you made it through the day perfectly, before Ashley corners you backstage at soundcheck.

“You like him don’t you? In fact it’s more than that … you are in love with him”

Knowing that you can’t hide the truth from your friend, you look her in the eye and give her a sad smile.

“He can never know that I like him."

"Why?" Ash questions you.

"Because I'm just one of million stars, and he's the moon, he deserves so much better that me”

You slightly cruse the tears that begin falling once more and do your best to wipe them without ruining your make up.

Ash gives you a soft smile and shakes her head.

“I’ve seen the say that boy looks at you. You may think he’s the moon but he looks at you like you’re the one holding his entire world. Last night should have been enough evidence! It was you he wanted to patch him up, it was you he wanted attention from and it you he wanted to hold. It’s always you. It’s not about what you can give him or what he can give you, it’s simply about the love that you share and the happiness you provide each other. He doesn’t want to be Mr international superstar with you. He just wants to be Colson, your Colson.”

After her little speech, Ashley leaves you alone as you try and process her words. But you weren’t alone for long as a voice behind you startles you.

“She’s right you know.”

You gasp and turn to fave the voice you knew all too well.

“Colson! What the hell?!”

“She’s right” he repeats.

“Right about what exactly?”

“You might think I’m the moon, but you are my whole world. You are more than just a star, so, so much more.”

“Colson…” you close your eyes, unsure on if you want to have this conversation, but realistically you knew there was no escape.

Colson stalks forward, invading your personal space and holds your chin in his fingers so that you are holding direct eye contact with each other.

“I heard you last night… your confession. I wasn’t really asleep and frankly I’m surprised I remembered this morning. In all honesty i was going to pretend until you felt ready to have the conversation but after hearing what you said to Ashley, well I couldn’t pretend anymore. I can’t believe it took me all these years to realise how I truly feel about you. I can’t believe it took stupid dare inflicted injury and a single moment in a tour bus bathroom for everything to fall into place”

With shaky hands, your fingers touched the small wound on his head and caressed it lightly.

Not trusting your voice, you whisper out a quick response, “I’m so happy it did”.

Colson takes that as cue to plant a kiss on you, a moment you felt as if you could live in forever, before he pulls away to look at you.

“I’ll love, protect and cherish you, forever. My best friend, my girlfriend, my everything.”

[dark-and-kawaii]

With the way you write Haarlep, I can just picture them being blindsided by Tav giving them aftercare (because we all know that Raphael doesn't) or tending to their injuries after Raphael "disciplines" them. Like after Raphael punishes Haarlep for acting a little too familiar with Tav, she takes one look at the incubus and is doing what she can to make it better. Nothing sensual (at least not intentionally on Tav's part), just honest to goodness tenderness. I'd love to read a thingy about that.

༺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬 ༻

Soft Haarlep Prt. 2

I just want to say thank you for sending in this request because this has became one of my favorites I’ve written!!!! I really hope you enjoy it ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞!!! and would love to hear your feedback!!! I made this as a sequel to the previous Haarlep request!!!

Angst - Comfort - Injuries

- PRT 1 (Click Here) - PRT 3 (Click Here) - PRT 4 (Click Here)

Ao3

Haarlep lay on the ground, battered and bruised, their throat burning from the punishment inflicted by Raphael. You were discarded like rotten flesh in the corner, your skin adorned with fresh bruises, your hair matted… And the rest of your body… Well that didn’t really matter because you did beg Raphael to spare Haarlep. Which he did in his own sick twisted way. Haarlep, that’s what mattered at this very moment. Summoning the strength within you to rise from the ground to tend to them, that’s what mattered.

The moment your hand touched Haarlep's cheek, they felt a mixture of surprise and a flicker of warmth amidst their pain. Your thumb gingerly tracing over their cracked lip, and with a soft voice, you spoke, "Don’t move, okay?” Your eyes were filled with sadness, not for your own pain, but for theirs, “I'll be right back." You then proceeded to stand back up on two wobbly legs, Haarlep could see the struggle… It reminded them of a freshly born Nightmare foal -horses of the hell realm- learning to stand for the first time. Just as you were about to lose your balance and collide with the cool unforgiving ground, Haarlep interjected. Their tail pressing against you to help keep you steady for a moment.

Mouthing thanks to them, you make your way to the center of the room where the bath was. You grabbed the nearest cloth, dampened it, and returned to Haarlep's side. With gentle care, you pressed the cloth against the bruises on their neck and their tender skin. Haarlep's tail, instinctively swishing back and forth, reflecting their initial amusement at the irony of a vulnerable mortal attending to them, an incubus whose very nature was one of darkness and desire.

"How utterly amusing," Haarlep began with a weak chuckle, trying to mask their inner bewilderment. "The crippled mouse tending to the cat that led it to its own demise." The familiar playfulness of Haarlep’s nature collided with the unfamiliar tenderness they felt towards you. They couldn't fathom why you would show such kindness to them

Your eyes brimmed with tears, your lips trembling as you fought back a cry. Witnessing their cracked lip bleed, a single tear cascaded down your cheek, "I'm so sorry, Haarlep. This is my fault," you whispered, your voice trembling with genuine remorse.

A laugh escaped Haarlep's lips, but this time, it lacked mockery. It held traces of vulnerability, an acknowledgment of the empathy that defied their role. "Ha! What a perplexing situation," Haarlep smiled, their tone still of his nature but with a tinged of newfound sincerity. “What am I to do with such a fragile little thing.” Their hand embracing your chin gently as their head cocks to the side, their fiery eyes still locked onto you, “Why stay and tend to a fiendish creature like myself, who hails from the very depths of the hells?" It was only for a fleeting second, but Haarlep’s fingers kissed your chin with a tender caress just before their hand fell back on their knee.

Your sullen gaze softened as you continued to tend to their wounds, your hand unwavering, "You're trapped here, aren't you? Bound and alone," you said softly, your voice carrying an unmistakable truth, "No one deserves to be alone, not even an incubus."

Haarlep sat in the silence watching you. Despite the darkness that surrounded you, your kindness and understanding had silenced Haarlep. They didn’t know what to say nor do, it was the first time they’ve ever experienced such a gentle and pure soul even after Raphael’s assault. Your body was more broke than even Haarlep’s yet you sought to comfort them first…

Haarlep's tail, a physical extension of their emotions, gently moved to rest against your thigh. Their unspoken way of saying thank you, expressing the depths of gratitude best they could.

Taking notice of the feeling of Haarlep’s tail, your eyes wander towards it. Placing your hand atop of their tail, symbolizing acceptance, “I won’t leave your side, I promise Haarlep.” With that, Haarlep decided to bask in the comfort of your touch, their eyes closing as you pressed the damp cloth to their temple.