#does this make any sense? i'm exhausted

[feedingicetothedog]

i'm trying to formulate a post about my prediction for the claudia and louis dynamic in europe and all i can think of is that line from ep 5 where louis says that her absence laid bare who they were without her, a simmering pot of resentments. but instead of her (claudia) it's him (lestat)

[ace-n-mooch-daily]

Today's Ace n' Mooch are listening to music

[sapphire-weapon]

probably the most interesting observation about RE fandom since the release of RE4make is that RE4make brought in a shitload of new fans, and yet it created absolutely zero new leon/ada fans.

this isn’t even a case of “fandom only cares about m/m” either, because i’ve seen a dramatic uptick in support for leon/ashley. it’s just that the only people that i’ve seen making leon/ada content have already been doing it for years.

it’s just fascinating to me because for like 20 years, leon/ada was THE SHIP in RE fandom, outclassing even chris/jill, and it seems to have fallen out of favor ever since capcom starting releasing the new remakes.

you know, the remakes that are determined to write the characters as though they were actual people and not ridiculous caricatures.

funny how the ship just falls apart when you do that. which is what i’ve said for actual literal years, but, much like RE2 leon, no one ever listens to me.

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

Thinking abt demomedic again... I think they're both so outgoing and flirty but don't rlly ever expect anything they say to be taken seriously or reciprocated. They both manage to completely catch the other off guard just by actually viewing him as a potential object of romantic affection

[mieczyhale]

there is such a thing as taking "babygirlification" too far actually

my dude, that is a whole different character now

[teethcore]

i'm reaching this tipping point that's like. actually a good thing for once.

[harmoonix]

Comforting Astrology

🍁 ~ Short Astrology Observations ~ 🍁

🍁 Many people forgot that your safe space is found within your moon sign, 4th house, and its ruler

🍁 Everyone has karmic points in their chart, and these are the north node and the south node, respectively ketu and rahu

🍁 Your ascendant sign and its ruler can also be a good indicator of beauty and the way you look/your appearance

🍁 Lots of people with moon - saturn aspects tend to have a really pessimistic mind, but they also try to heal at their own

🍁 Mercury in the 4th house can have good connections with their family members, always being close to them

🍁 Where you have Sagittarius in your chart that's the area you will learn/explore the most, as well if you have Sag Placements .

🍁 Pluto plays a big role in how does the society perceives you, how much do you impact other people

🍁 Moon Dominants have a healing/kind aura. A moon dominant native is full of nurturing inside and out. A moon's lover

🍁 Sun in the 3rd/5th/11th houses tend to be creative since young, that kid who's always coming with something creative

🍁 Moon/Cancer/Pisces/Neptune in the 6th house natives really get so deeply affected by the things happening in their life

🍁 Jupiter in the 10th house can have so much luck in their careers/life paths, which is one of those really lucky placements

🍁 Uranus - Venus aspects, you may often approach relationships with innovation and an open mind. Also, you may crave love in different ways than others

🍁 Your Lilith and Chiron placements talk about your traumas and, of course, how to heal/get past them

🍁 Venus in Capricorn/10th house is such a good placement for setting standards in the relationship. Know your worth

🍁 Libra and Taurus Risings have a difficult life lesson, and that is to finally love themselves fully. What does loving yourself mean? To appreciate everything that you have

🍁 Sun in Taurus or Taurus degrees 2° 14° 26° makes the native to be lazy sometimes (its the dark traits of these placements), wanting to rest more than work, craving more free time

🍁 I love to see Aquarius & Leo combo placements in a chart is really the definition of ' bad bithces coming in twos'

🍁 Chiron in the 2nd/6th/8th/12th houses can make the native overall exhausted, too many things coming in your way

🍁 Where you have Leo in your chart is the area you will shine/get most attention from. Also, where you gain more popularity

🍁 Aries/Pisces/Libra/Capricorn Venus has really this vibe of 'I'm yours' or 'Do everything you want with me'

🍁 Sun harshly aspecting the Moon really shows the duality of the native, their complexity, Sun - Moon aspects are some of them most complex placements in astrology

🍁 Pluto in the 2nd house natives can become wealthy or abundant in life, can also experience up and downs with money

🍁 Uranus in the 2nd house is the moment when the native sometimes is broke, sometimes is financially good, money can come unexpectedly

🍁 Uranus in the 7th house is the moment when relationships can come unexpectedly in your life, soemtimes even when you're not ready

🍁 Uranus in the 6th or 10th house may change their jobs more than usual, but these placements are good because sometimes you get offers for jobs randomly

🍁 Fire Moons definition will be 'Fire to my heart' due to their strong and impulsive feelings. Really passionate placements

🍁 Aries Mars natives have a bold energy, of course because Mars is at home but is also in their personality they will make you feel more confident and strong

🍁 Jupiter - Moon aspects will gift the native with kindness, really genuine souls, often soft but liked by the people

🍁 Lilith - Uranus aspects can indicate a struggle with the natives freedom. Sometimes, you just crave it, can be any type of freedom like mental freedom, physical freedom, emotional freedom

🍁 Virgo in the 4th/8th/12th houses can create a sense of 'scared of death' to the native, can also talk about the native falling over misconception of death

🍁 Moon in your 6th house is an underatted people pleaser placement since the 6th house represents the service for others

🍁 When Pisces & Capricorn Placements are under stress, they tend to make false illusions of things going worse, they both share it

🍁 A Capricorn Saturn is heavily protected, somehow as a reminder that Saturn is at home here and is more easily for Saturn to send karma back

🍁 Sun in the 10th house can make you more career oriented, raining with money for you. Lots of potential for this placement

🍁 Neptune aspecting Venus, yes, is true that they dream of true love, but most of these natives experience intense relationships with these placements.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

'Everything is better after dark'

Good Thursday everyone 🍁✨️ also have a good start of autumn 🍂

Harmoonix 🍂🍂🍂

[sincerestlove]

Kitchen Cravings - E.P.

i couldn't get this out of my head so i had to write it. please let me know what you think - i’d love to start writing more frequently for emily and jj - if anyone is interested, please let me know.

i hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+ - MEN & MINORS DNI.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains, washing the bedroom in a faint glow. You and Emily had just finished round four? Five? You lost count after 2, barely able to think nor speak coherently. You were now cuddled up together, Emily brushing her warm fingertips gently up and down your spine as you drew lazy shapes into the soft skin of her chest.

"Hey, baby, are you hungry yet?"

Emily hums at your question, and she takes a moment to consider. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until now, but after you mention it, she can feel her stomach rumbling. "Yeah, I am, actually. Why, you thinking about food?"

"Mhm, since we haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

"Yeah, I guess we have been pretty busy..." The brunette smiles slyly and leans in to whisper in your ear. "You know what I'm craving right now, love?"

"Hm?"

Emily's voice is low and sultry as she speaks, her lips brushing against your ear. "You." She grins and nibbles playfully at your earlobe, her hand moving down to rest on your hip.

You groan dramatically, nudging her legs with your foot. "Back, you sex heathen. You wore me out."

Your wife grins at your words, feeling a sense of satisfaction at being able to exhaust you so thoroughly. She runs her fingers along your side, enjoying the feeling of the soft skin under her hands. "I did, huh? Well, I suppose I should make sure you get something to eat.”

"Yes, please. Your wife is hungry."

Emily laughs, feeling a surge of affection for you. She plants a quick kiss on your forehead, then pushes back the covers and climbs out of bed. You can’t help but drag your eyes along her naked form, muscles straining as she stretches her arms over her head. Her dark hair was mused and slightly tangled from all of the tugging you were doing on it, lips a pretty pink and swollen. She tugs a loose, large t-shirt over her head, the hem falling just above her knees. “Okay, love. I'll head down to the kitchen and whip something up for you. Any special requests?"

You shrug nonchalantly. “I’ll come with you. I like watching you cook." You yawn, before standing up and putting on your silky black lounge robe, tying it loosely in the front. Slivers of your skin were exposed, Emily’s eyes greedily taking in every inch. “And I’m fine with anything, baby."

She takes your hand, leading you both out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. "Perfect. I love when you keep me company in the kitchen."

Once you enter, Emily leaves you at the counter and starts opening the cabinets and fridge, taking stock of the food you both have on hand. She turns, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Hmm, let's see... Do you feel like something light, or something more substantial? How hungry are you?"

"Well, you made me come like five times, so, yeah, I could eat something substantial.”

Emily laughs loudly. "I can work with that. How does pasta sound? I've got a recipe for a spicy tomato sauce that I've been wanting to try out."

"Sounds perfect."

Emily nods, feeling pleased that her idea has been approved by her hungry wife. She starts rummaging through the kitchen, gathering the ingredients she needs. "Okay, pasta it is. Be a good girl for me, yeah? Sit there and look pretty while I cook."

You grin. "I think I can do that."

Emily laughs, loving the way you respond to her teasing. She sets up a pot of water to boil, then starts chopping up onions and garlic to sauté in a pan. You watch as she moves effortlessly around the kitchen, chopping the vegetables with skill and ease. "Of course you can. You're very good at looking pretty, love." She says, shooting you a wink over her shoulder.

"Yeah? You think I'm pretty?"

Emily turns to face you, her gaze roaming over your face and figure. Her expression is tender and affectionate, almost reverent, a small smile on her lips. "Absolutely. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You coo at her sweet words, her smile turning a little more intense, eyes lingering on your form. The way you look wrapped up in that loose robe, bare legs exposed, is very distracting. Emily feels the stirring of desire flare up in her stomach, but she does her best to push it down and focus on the task at hand.

She turns back to the stove, where the onions and garlic are sizzling away in the pan. She takes a deep breath, trying to focus her mind completely on cooking and ignore the distraction of her very attractive and very accessible wife sitting just a few feet away in a very thin robe.

She starts adding tomatoes, marinara and spices to the pan, stirring and mixing them in. She can feel your eyes on her back, and it's getting increasingly difficult for her to maintain her focus instead of turning around and pushing you against the counter.

"The, um, the water should be boiling soon. I'll add the pasta in and then the food will be ready." Emily stumbles slightly over her words, glancing over her shoulder to see you already staring, grinning at her like a cheshire cat. Your head rests casually on your hand, eyes dragging slowly down Emily’s form. There’s a twinkle in your eyes, one that she knows too well.

The pot of water starts boiling, and Emily takes it as an opportunity to turn away from you and pour the pasta into the colander, successfully draining the water, before adding it to the saucepan. She stirs, making sure that the noodles are coated evenly in sauce. She can still feel your eyes on her, and her skin prickles with anticipation.

"You almost done over there, baby?"

Your question snaps Emily out of her thoughts, and she looks over at you with a mix of frustration and hunger in her gaze. "Almost. Just, um, just another minute or two."

After a few more minutes, the food is ready, but Emily is so distracted that she continues to mindlessly stir the sauce. You smirk at the sight.

"Done?"

Emily nods jerkily. She reaches out to turn off the heat on the stove, her hands shaking. "Oh. Yeah, I'm done."

You push away from the counter, sauntering toward the fridge. You intentionally squeeze past the tight space between the counter and your wife, brushing your body against her back, hands teasingly skimming the exposed skin.

Without even realizing it, one of Emily's hands reaches out, her fingers lightly tracing along your hip. She can feel your warmth through the flimsy fabric.

She steps closer, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and pulling herself flush against her body. She nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin, every inch of contact sending jolt after jolt of desire right through her.

Y/N smirks, craning her neck to nuzzle her nose into Emily’s skin, taking in the faint scent of her sweet perfume. "Let's go eat, love. Don't want the food to get cold, right?"

Emily groans, her hands clenching slightly on your hips as she forces herself to hold back. She wants to press you up against the kitchen counter and take you right there, but she knows she needs to wait. "Tease."

Emily reluctantly moves to the cabinet and pulls down two plates. She can still feel the ghost of your body against hers, the way your bodies were pressed flush together. The sensation is burned into her skin, her mind swimming with the memory of that heat and that desire. She carefully scoops a serving of pasta onto your plate, trying to keep her hands steady as she does.

You smile as you take the plate, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to your wife’s lips. "Thanks, baby."

"You're welcome," Emily murmurs, her voice a little huskier than usual. She watches as you take the plate to the table, her eyes tracking your movement.

As you sit down, you slide Emily a drink from across the table, her favorite seltzer, before scooping a hefty spoonful of parmesan cheese onto your pasta.

Emily picks up her own fork and tries to focus on her food, but it's hard to concentrate on anything other than the sight of you sitting across from her. She can feel the heat pooling in her stomach, her body practically aching to touch you, to feel your skin against hers again.

You watch Emily intently as she eats, smirking at the way she struggles to restrain herself. You let your robe slip a bit more down your shoulders, exposing the top of your breasts to Emily’s darkened, blown out eyes.

You can hear how her breath hitches in her throat as you make that small movement, revealing more of your bare skin. Emily's eyes rake over the newly exposed flesh, her mouth going dry at the sight. It's almost too much to bear, the sight of her wife's body nearly bared to her. She grips the edge of the table tightly, her knuckles going white with the effort it takes to hold herself back.

You grin over the top of your drink. "You okay over there?"

Emily takes a deep and shaky breath, her eyes still locked on your body. She's breathing heavily, practically shaking with desire and need. "I'm fine," She says, her voice ragged and hoarse. "I just... I need you. Like, right now. And that robe is not helping things at all."

"What? This thing?" You intentionally slip it further down, fully exposing your breasts and hardened nipples to your wife.

Emily can't tear her gaze away from the sight of you lounging before her, exposed and provocative. Her eyes rake over every inch of your body like she’s starved, taking in the curves and the dips, the planes and the lines. It's like pouring gasoline on the flames of her desire, the primal need inside her growing hotter and fiercer with every passing second.

"Are you going to just sit there, or you going to come over here and do something about all that pent up tension you’re feeling?"

Without another word, Emily lets her fork clatter onto her plate and pushes herself up from the table, stalking around it with a predatory grace, her eyes fixed on you the whole time. She's like a panther closing in on its prey, her movements slow and purposeful. She stands over you, looking down, drinking in the sight of your bare skin up close. Her eyes rake over your body hungrily, heart pounding in her chest.

You smiles up at her teasingly, allowing the robe to fall open fully.

Emily’s eyes feast on the sight, taking in every inch of your newly exposed skin, every contour and curve. Her body is thrumming with desire, the need to touch and taste you driving her mad. She steps even closer, her hands itching to reach out and touch you, to stroke your soft skin.

"Are you just going to stare, honey?"

At your challenge, Emily's last shred of self-control snaps. Without warning, she moves forward, pulling you out of your chair and pinning you up against the closest wall, her body pressing flush against yours. Her hands roam greedily over your bare skin, taking ownership of your body, hot and smooth under her touch. Emily's mouth captures yours in a fierce, hungry kiss, their tongues tangling in a possessive, dominating gesture.

You laugh breathily as your mouths separate, grabbing Emily’s hands and placing them on your bare hips. Her blunt nails dig into your skin, the light sting of her grip leaving small crescents in their wake. “There she is."

Emily grunts in response, trailing hungry kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin.

"Finally snapped, huh? What did it for you, baby? Was it the robe?"

Emily's lips move up to your ear, her tongue tracing the outer shell. Her breath is hot against your skin as she speaks, her voice low and rough with desire and need. “I asked you to sit there and look pretty, not tease me in this fuckin’ robe." She groans again, biting gently on your earlobe. “Couldn’t help but make you mine.”

You grin, moaning as she feels Emily’s lips and tongue on her skin. "You know I’m already yours, Em."

"I know, but sometimes I can't help myself. I just need to remind you."

You slink your arms over Emily’s strong shoulders, leaning close to whisper in her ear. "Remind me then."

Emily's hands begin to wander, roaming over your body once again with a desperate, hungry need. She tangles her fingers in your hair, pulling your head back sharply so she can attack your neck again, biting and sucking, leaving dark purple marks as she goes, eventually moving down and landing on your hardened buds. She takes one into her warm mouth, sucking harshly, her slender fingers tugging on the other.

You groan in desperation, grabbing Emily’s hand and shoving it between your legs, as you hold her head to her chest. Emily laughs teasingly at your movements, deciding to have mercy and run her fingers through your pussy.

Her hand is immediately drenched, the feel of your wetness driving her nearly insane. She moans against your chest as her fingers run through your folds, touch hungry and urgent. “Someone’s excited.”

Her mouth trails kisses across your chest, fingers pressing and rubbing teasingly against your sensitive flesh.

You moan breathily, throwing your head back against the wall as you grinds down on your wife’s hand, chasing your pleasure.

“Look at you, sweet thing. Flushed, desperate, needy. All that teasing for what? If you wanted to be fucked, you could’ve just asked.” Emily grins cockily at you, stuffing two fingers inside of your dripping hole.

She revels in the feeling of you grinding against her hand, the sounds of your moans and sighs. Her hand begins to move faster. She knows exactly how to drive you wild, exactly how to elicit these sounds and reactions from her wife. She's single-minded in her pursuit of your pleasure, her own need and desire feeding into the primal drive to make you fall apart in her hands. She feels almost drunk on you - your scent, your skin, your sounds - it’s all encompassing.

You moan loudly, almost pornographically, at the pleasure roaring through your veins. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, biting down harshly on your lip, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching as Emily’s thumb finds your clit, pressing down and circling harshly. She pushes her fingers even further inside you, nudging that sweet, spongy spot.

She grins against your shoulder, her fingers continuing their relentless onslaught. She can feel the tension building, the way your body is shaking and trembling against hers. She knows you’re close, she can feel it in the way your body is responding to her touch, the way your moans and gasps are becoming more desperate and ragged, chest heaving.

"Fuck, I’m close, baby, please-" Your voice breaks off at the end, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping onto her shoulders tightly, the taut muscles flexing under your hands.

Emily smirks. "You're begging so prettily, baby. You wanna come?" You nod desperately. "Yeah?"Her fingers move even faster still, her touch rougher. Her mouth moves to your ear, voice a low, husky whisper. "Come on, pretty girl. Come for me. Make a mess on my hand.”

With a final, sharp twist of her fingers, you finally cry out, your body shuddering against Emily's as ecstasy washes over you. She continues to caress and stroke you, helping you ride out the wave of your orgasm, her touch gentler now, as you squeeze her fingers inside you.

Emily keeps you pressed against the wall as you come down from your high, her hand still between your legs, gently stroking the sensitive flesh. She watches with satisfaction as you pant and whimper, body still twitching and shaking with the lingering pleasure of your orgasm. You swear you could see stars in your eyes.

After a few moments, Emily slowly withdraws her hand, bringing it up to her mouth and deliberately licking her fingers clean. The sight makes you shiver, another wave of arousal bubbling deep in your belly.

Emily kisses you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip as she pulls back slightly. "I'm not done with you yet, love."

You bark out a laugh, gently nudging your wife by her shoulders. "Jesus Christ woman, give me a break - I nearly passed out just now."

Emily laughs, nuzzling her nose into your hair and pressing a kiss there. After closing your robe, she takes you into her arms gently, ushering you to sit on the couch. “Sit down, love. Let me get your dinner so you can finish it.”

You sigh deeply as you plop yourself down on the couch, legs spread lazily, resting your head over the back cushion. Boneless and spent, you allow your eyes to slip shut momentarily as Emily gathers your plate and fork, bringing it back to you.

“Here you go, babe.” As you open your eyes and lift your head, the brunette places your bowl and fork in your hand, smiling sweetly at you.

“Where’s your food?”

“I put it in the fridge, I’ll eat it later." Emily lowers herself to her knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact. "Right now, I’m hungry for something else.” She brushes her hair out of her face before she places her warm hands on your already spread thighs, squeezing lightly.

You mouth falls open at the erotic sight, feeling your skin tingle. You were at an utter loss for words, watching as she grabbed underneath your knees, pulling you closer to her mouth.

“You are going to eat your food, and I’m going to eat you. If you don’t finish first, I’m going to edge you all night. I won’t be nice either, and you won’t get to come. Got me?”

Oh.

She looks at you, brow raised, waiting for an answer. “I…okay. Yeah.” You manage to breathe out, picking up your fork and hurriedly finishing your plate.

Emily grins, as she brings her mouth to you, warm and wet.

“Good girl.”

i will be opening my requests again soon - as always, please let me know who it's for and be as detailed as possible. thank you and i hope you liked this one! :)

[feedingicetothedog]

i know lestat is literally a vampire but he's a werewolf

[puranami]

✿ Fever - 1 ✿

A/N: Not included Brook and Jimbei bc I have absolutely no idea how to write them. Also, since Chopper is baby it would feel weird including him, even though it'd be in a purely platonic way. Just because of all the pining going on. Idk, I'd rather keep the themes separate, if that makes sense?

Summary: You're sick and try to ignore it.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Robin, Franky.

Content: SFW, G/N reader, no serious illness but Usopp's is a liiiiittle angsty bc of his mum, not proofread (effectively) bc it's past 2am ✿

(Part 2)

Luffy

✿ He's honestly oblivious to things at first. You are doing your best to maintain your usual level of enthusiasm but it's so exhausting, and that's the most he registers - that you're tired.

"Hey, did ya not sleep too good?" he asked, entirely too loud for the headache beginning to form. You groan and lean your head into your hand, as if that would somehow soothe things, but to no avail. "Don't worry about it, I swear it won't affect my duties," you say, not sure who you were trying to convince. Apparently it didn't work regardless, as when you looked at him he was just stood there frowning with his arms crossed, and his head tilted. Before you could say anything you were greeted with a rubbery palm lightly smacking against your forehead, earning a surprised yelp from you. "You're hot." "Luffy!" Of course he had to say it that way. If you weren't already burning up with this fever, that would've set your skin ablaze. He really had no filter, and he never realised how the things he said affected you. He removed his hand from your face to grab your own, turning to drag you back to your quarters, not listening to any of your protests on the matter. There really wasn't anything you could do once Luffy had made up his mind, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't part of his charm. "No duties for you today, 'kay?" It may have been phrased like a question, but you knew it was 'Captain's orders.'

✿ You'd end up sleeping most of the day, with Luffy having gotten Chopper to look after you.

✿What you wouldn't be aware of was his constant presence while you slept, keeping a quiet vigil whilst he made sure the damp cloth on your head was always nice and cool.

✿ He just wants you to get better as fast as you can!

Zoro

✿ One word; clueless.

✿ It just looks like a hangover to him, what with the way you groan at the light, are unsteady on your feet, and complain about being nauseous.

"And I thought I drank a lot last night." he'd comment with a smirk. "Shut up, Zoro, you always drink a lot," you whine. "I didn't drink anything!" "The pathetic whining says otherwise." You threw the rag you'd been cleaning with at him. He raised an eyebrow, watching it harmlessly drop to the floor in front of him. "Your form is off." This man, you swear! You try to growl out an insult, but it dies on your tongue, a wave of nausea hitting in it's place, causing you to clasp a hand to your mouth. "Alright, easy champ, no need to strain yourself," Zoro raised his hands in faux surrender. "Come on, you gotta sleep this one off." He can't help but smile as you pathetically smack at him while he picks you up, opting for bridal style as opposed to flour sack, only so you don't empty your guts down his back. Saying that, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy holding you like that, though you're far too busy trying to fight him to notice the dusting of pink on his cheeks. "Don't worry I'll get you through this. I know my way around a hangover." "I'm not hungover," you protest as he gently places you in a hammock.

✿ True to his word though, he does see you through it, even if 'it' is the wrong thing. Task failed successfully!

✿ Zoro stays beside you, makes sure you drink plenty of water, and get plenty of rest, even falling asleep himself at one point; his face inches from yours as he was leaning against the post the top end of the hammock was attached to at the time.

✿ Sadly you never saw that as you slept right through it. Would've been good ammunition to use against him when he needed taking down a peg.

Nami

✿ One of the people who would actually do a good job of looking after you. She's not got the gentlest bedside manner; she is firm yet fair, so you're in good hands.

When you don't join the crew for breakfast, Nami took it upon herself to make sure you hadn't gotten tangled in your hammock, or something equally as stupid. You wake up in a cold sweat when you hear your door open, and manage to croak out, "Nami? Oh, did I oversleep?" When you try to get up, she pushes you right back down. "Don't." Her tone indicates that she will not tolerate any shenanigans, and so you do as you're told. "You need to sleep more. I'll get you some water, and later Sanji will make you some soup." She tucks a thin blanket around you, so you don't overheat. "If you so much as try to get out of this hammock I'm going to tie your arms and legs together. Understood?" Unable to stop yourself, you let out a light chuckle. "Nami, you're so cute when you pretend not to care," the fever disabling any kind of filter you may have had. While it did catch her by surprise, you are none the wiser, as you quickly drift back off to sleep. Nami has to take a brief moment to collect herself again, silently cursing the noticeable warmth in her cheeks, then mumbling about how you're an idiot before leaving your room.

✿ Nami basically dictates how your day is. Lots of sleep, plenty of fluids and maybe a warm bath to help sweat this out, and of course she 'requests' (demands) Sanji make a hearty soup to help you get better, which he is more than happy to do for her!

✿ She'll deny it, but she sets up in your room so she can monitor you throughout the day, only going to Chopper for medicine if she thinks it's bad enough, deciding it isn't necessary to bother him with something so manageable.

Usopp

✿ He panics. Something about seeing someone he cares about getting sick makes him think of his mother, and he doesn't want to lose anyone else like that.

Usopp scoops you up and books it to Chopper. You've seen him afraid, but nothing this intense, and no matter how much you try to convince him that you're okay, and that it's just a cold - you can't seem to break through to him. "Chopper, please help! Please!" He begs as he gently places you on a bed. Tears are streaming down his face, as he takes your hand in a vice-like grip. Once Chopper confirms what you already tried to tell him about it being a common cold, he relaxes a bit. You don't hold it against him, clearly this is something deeper for him. Chopper's words, those of a professional, were very reassuring. "You just need rest, but I do have medicine to help with symptoms if you need," he says before putting a comforting little hoof on Usopp's knee. "Everything will be okay, I promise." Usopp takes a moment to collect himself before quietly saying, "Can I stay?" You and Chopper look at each other before smiling back at him, letting him know he is welcome to stay as long as he likes, or in this case needs. Neither of you press him on why this had him so scared, figuring he'll tell you if and when he's ready to.

✿ Chopper will handle all of your care, because Usopp refuses to leave your side.

✿ He keeps you entertained with his stories when you're awake, and scribbles on some loose papers Chopper gives him while you sleep. It's mainly ideas for things to make, and it keeps him calm.

✿ At one point he falls asleep with his arms crossed on the bed beside you, his little fingers linked with your own, like an unspoken promise that you'll get better, and he'll be there when you do.

Sanji

✿ As soon as Sanji catches on that you are sick, he decides to completely dedicate himself to your care and recovery! He's very attentive, and will do every little thing you want or need to get you back to health.

"Darling, I insist!" Every 'it's okay,' and 'you don't need to do all that for me,' will be shot down immediately. "What kind of man would I be if I let someone as lovely as you do anything in this condition?" He clutches his chest dramatically. "No, no. Don't you worry about a thing; I'll make sure you're well again in no time at all." You really don't have the energy to try and dissuade him, so you accept your fate, and let him dote on you the whole day. It's honestly really nice; you love having his attention, and are thankful that the fever hides your blushes, but you also can't help feeling a little guilty with how much he does for you. "Please don't overexert yourself on my behalf, I don't want you to end up getting sick yourself." "Even if I was sick, it wouldn't stop me from looking after you, my dear." You can't help but frown at this. He's so eager to do for others, but is painfully stubborn about receiving that same care. "If you're ever sick, Sanji, I'm gonna do everything that you've done for me - and I won't hear any objection from you on the matter!" You say in as stern a voice as you can manage with a sore throat. "Darling-" "Nope!" You cut him off quickly, "You deserve the same level of care that you give out!" He looks at you a little wide-eyed, an adorable blush creeping along his face. He lets out a small laugh. As much as he'd like to, he says nothing more on it; you're as stubborn as he is it would seem.

✿ Sanji makes lots of lovely food to help aid in your recovery; warming soups, peppermint tea, porridge with ginger and honey. Everything that soothes and settles, no matter the malady.

✿ His bedside manner is impeccable! He's so gentle with you, and he makes sure to check in as often as he can, whilst still doing his duties, getting as much done as possible while you're asleep.

✿ Like Nami, he only goes to Chopper if he feels your condition requires it. He's confident that his cooking will be more than enough to get you back to health.

Robin

✿ A blessing, and a curse. She's very logical, and she knows how to handle such a minor illness, but, she really can't help telling you all about other illnesses that have worryingly similar symptoms.

"Oh, this one is very unpleasant," she beams, and you can't help but press your hands over your ears. "Chopper!" You cry, before she can start telling you about this particular strain of 'instantdeathitus,' practically running into the infirmary with Robin hot on your heels, holding an open book on diseases. "Robin keeps talking about scary diseases and now I'm scared I'm gonna die!" After being given a quick check-up, and much reassurance that, no, you do not have a rare disease that can only be contracted on a specific island in a completely different ocean, and yes, it is just a common cold, you relax. Mostly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Robin says later once you have bundled up and settled down. "Your cold just reminded me of this book, and I thought it was fascinating. I just wanted to share it with you." She clearly felt guilty, and you appreciated that this was just how she is, but you really would've rather she'd chosen a different topic to tell you about. "Maybe, you have a book on old remedies you could tell me about instead?" Robin perks back up at this. She truly values how much you understand her, and she can see why talking about diseases when your ill is not the most pleasant experience, so this is a perfect compromise. "That's a wonderful idea," she smiles, and you swear she puts the sun to shame with how bright her smile is. "There might be one we can try that will help with your recovery."

✿ Once you get past the scary disease hiccup, Robin is a great companion, looking up home remedies, and trying out the ones that are clearly based on logic as opposed to superstition.

✿ If you find a good remedy, she's excitedly write it down, and later pass the information on to Chopper.

✿ She's happy to get you water when needed, and will watch over you as you nap in the library. It's one of the quietest parts of the ship, so there is no way to disturb you there.

Franky

✿ Aside from Chopper, Franky is genuinely the best at dealing with sick people. He tones down his behaviour, and knows exactly what you need to get back on your feet.

Your head was absolutely thundering, at least that's how it felt. Franky clocked onto your condition as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen, and once you had what you came in for, he hurried you off to his workshop. You thought it was an odd choice. "Shouldn't I go somewhere quiet?" "I know it doesn't seem it, but I can keep this place absolutely silent if I need to. No music, no one else barging in and making a racket," he said, keeping his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Also the walls are soundproof - keeps noise out just as well as it keeps my noise in." "Oh! That's really impressive," even when ill, there is a sparkle in your eyes when he tells you about pretty much anything he's designed or built. You notice his cheeks turning red, but assume that it's just from the compliment as he looked so proud when you gave it to him. "That's not all," he grins, "I've been working on a lil something, and now's the perfect time to show you!" That certainly piqued your interest, and he was doing a great job at distracting you from how bad you felt. Franky led you to one of the corners of the room, one that was covered in a large tarp. You'd seen it many times, and you were always curious, but he'd always brushed it off whenever you brought it up, so the thought of finally seeing what was under there was exciting! Pulling down the tarp revealed a little alcove that was almost like a nest considering the amount of cushions. "It's a space for you," he said sheepishly, "so you have somewhere comfortable to sit when you hang out in here. I figured you could rest there whilst you're ill, and I can look out for you." You stared at it in absolute wonder, big shining eyes darting between it and him. "It's absolutely perfect, thank you so much!"

✿ Franky kept the workshop quiet like he said he would, and whenever you needed anything, like water or medicine, he'd go and get it for you.

✿ At some point Chopper came in to check on you, since Franky had mentioned you were ill, but there really wasn't much to do about it besides getting lots of rest, and you had that covered.

✿ He'd work on his quiet projects, the ones still in the planning and design stages, whilst you slept peacefully in your cosy nest.

[oblique-lane]

"Just a bunch more biblical paintings then I'll go back to drawing yaoi" Or you can do both, renaissance style, Michelangelo or Raphael I honestly forgot who drew those naked men on the Sistine Chapel's ceilings ok bad joke aside: I'd love hearing more about your headcannons, specifically about the childhoods of the characters (ranging from the mercs, to Miss pauling, the Administrator, hell anyone you have ideas about!)

Childhood headcanons... How did you know I've had something about that on my mind? Alright, let's talk about...

Little Sniper

(Lots of trigger warnings ahead, check tags!)

Mundy was obviously an unhappy child. When I imagine the surroundings he grew up in, I see miles and miles of empty landscapes, dry yellow grass, unkept barns destroyed by rust and a deep choking sense of loneliness.

The closest neighbour woul be so far away you better bring a bicycle with you if you want to visit. School and Church were the only places to go, which were also very far away. No kids his age nearby. And even if there were peers at school, no one wanted him anyway.

Mundy was "weird", he didn't quite understand other kids' jokes, didn't get what was so fun about what everyone else enjoying to do; he was weaker, always loosing in close fights; he didn't even look very local for whatever reason. Even if he tried to get along with someone, it either ended up with him being ostracized or with him experiencing the greatest boredom imaginable. And the kids quickly picked up on his "difference", making him an object of bullying.

It started with making fun of everything Mundy does, his habits and speech patterns, his morals and ideas... Which wasn't anything too big for him but it was still very annoying and upsetting, he grew to hate school very quickly.

Coming home being exhausted from this kind of socializing, no one would really comfort him. Being very little, he used to tell on his bullies to his parents, telling how hurt he was by their words... And it would only made a mess in his family.

Overreactive mother: "Poor baby, I'm so sorry, I'll tell their parents to stop being mean, my little little baby, maybe we can go homeschooling..."

And a strict father: "Are you a man or what? Yeah, he will end up a bloody baby if you keep spoiling him like that! Suck it up! Of you can't stand for yourself, no one will. At this pace you'll end up a nobody, with no home nor respect from the world".

Mundy didn't want to be neither a baby nor a disappointment. He figured that sharing his feelings with parents wouldn't be that good of an idea, they won't understand anyway. And also that he must fight somehow.

If he can't win in close fights, he thought, he could hit them from a distance: throwing small rocks at the bullies from up the tree...

–He was punished for that. For some reason, every time Mundy fought back, he was scolded by the elders, who for some reason always believed the bullies that HE was the one starting the fights. They forbid him to fight back. He closed his feelings shut and stopped paying attention to almost everything around him.

Why was it like that? Why was he so different from other kids, why couldn't he understand them? Why couldn't he understand anyone in this world? The world was a mess of unspoken rules and suffering, overcoming oneself, pain; he couldn't fit in. He was always on the wrong even if he didn't do anything. He felt like an outsider everywhere he went.

Sometimes he wondered if he was born into a wrong family or that he wasn't a human at all. Looking at the night sky, he was thinking about aliens, maybe they would come to him someday and take him to the planet he truly belongs, being accidentally swapped at birth. Maybe then he will be happy, he will leave this sickening place and finally start living. He thought about dying, too.

He started to spend a lot of time in the forest any chance he got. He was alone here, unwatched, somewhat free. It was easier to breathe here. He was alone but it didn't feel worse than being with those people. He played by himself. He started to believe that he actually liked loneliness.

As Mundy and his peers grew older, the kids started to become more and more savage, thanks to the hormones and age crisis. Bullying intensified as those kids started to feel the need to assert themselves. Mundy was maliciously beaten (he fought back as much as he could and even win sometimes, but the beating only got worse each time). They used any chance to humiliate him.

And each time after that Mundy would take the knife or his father's shotgun and go to the forest to take his anger on animals, "hunting", since he couldn't do anything to fix the root of the problem.

He would hunt for something small, like birds or feral rabbits so he could butcher them and cook on fire to eat. At moments like this he felt like a beast, and somehow it was the most pleasant state for him to be in.

There were no words available to form his pain into, so the pain came through violence. The more violent his abusers became, the more violent he was at his "hunting". The more he felt his father's gaze piercing him with disappointment, the sharper his knife movements would get. Sometimes he would let the bodies to just rot like that, completely butchered in a very non-culinary way.

(Maybe someday he would lure one of those bastards to the forest and kill him the same way and blame it on an animal attack)

And at some point... His classmates would came up with something that would cross all the lines of forgivable. Somewhere there was the peak of what they could do. Something beyond.

There wasn't a known way to him to deal with that. No known words. Everyone would be so grossed out of him if they knew. He was beyond disgusted with himself, too. What was the point of living now?

That day he would shot a wild boar, take his machete out and cut it open, butcher it the way his father would when they wanted a pork dinner for the night... And reached to its heart.

The heart is where the love is stored, right? That's what people say when referring to this "love" he'd never seem to know. A dark read bloody organ that feels like sponge inside of thin rubber. There's something about this that Mundy lacks. He has a heart too, it's pulsating inside him, but for some reason it was unable to produce the "love", a very necessary fluid for a human body. He wondered if it's sweet. He wondered if he was even able to taste it.

He took a bite... And realized what he was doing.

He was, indeed, a monster.

When he went back home, later than usual, he would be met with his father's gaze. He was always throwing gazes, for every occasion, Mundy was used to feel small and guilty under them. But this time... It felt somehow much more personal. More disturbing.

His father looked at him as if he was a dirty little creature, a rat, a maggot. He looked at him the way one would look at a criminal who wronged their whole family. He looked at him like he knew.

His father didn't say anything that day and it wasn't brought up ever again.

Mundy was indeed a monster who was utterly terrified of this though. He didn't want to be one. He made a promise to himself that everything he does will be morally justified, he promised himself to become a good... decent person. He would earn his place in the world, even if his father, everyone else denies it.

It gets blurry at this point. Sniper doesn't really remember his life before about 17, when he was finishing school and starting to work on his sniper licence. For some reason he always knew he would be good at shooting and killing. When remembering his home, Sniper would recall the smell of grass, mother's cooking, the warm sun, and a steady life he had. He knew it was boring, but it still somehow felt like home. Home he felt was lost somewhere he didn't remember.

Either way, he was always a loner.

[untoldstar]

yandere boss when you find another job

warning: fem reader, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, abuse of power

At first, he notices a change in your demeanor, you do as you're told but you don't engage with him as much as you used to, the conversations you two had felt quite..personal to him, you two would talk in his office where no one would overhear or interfere, you even had inside jokes that only you two would understand, it felt special to him, so when conversations with you wouldn't go past five sentences alarms started going off in his head, did he say something to upset you? has one of your co-workers been bothering you? just tell him he can take care of it in the blink of an eye! it's not like it would be the first time he's done that for you. Perhaps your workload has been too exhausting? he'll happily give you a vacation if it means you'll treat him how you used to

This man reflects for a whole day to make he didn't upset you in any way, he gives you simple errands and prolongs your breaks but that only seems to spark even more of an unpleasant emotion in you, he replays all the security cameras in the office to see if someone has been harassing you which doesn't turn out to be the case but it does lead him to notice you being on the phone more often than usual and his mind immediately goes south, has she gotten a boyfriend? when? how have I not noticed this..

He backtracks all your calls to find out who you've been talking with so he can deal with them properly but he finds that most of your calls have been with another company..what would you need from another company? a job application? you were planning on leaving him?!

He becomes so paranoid, he goes to every length possible, he makes everyone in the office guilt trip you into staying with comments on how work would suck if you weren't there, how they would have a crisis every week if you weren't there to handle it quickly and swiftly every time, just what would they do without you?

He almost goes as far as giving you a bad reputation in the company you were planning on applying to when it finally happened..

You walking into his office with the most serious face you've had since he hired you, he listens to you utter the words "I'm resigning" from your beautiful soft lips and the rest is turning into muffled mumbles in his brain because the only thing he's thinking of is locking you both in his office forever where he can keep his eye on you, where you can't run away from him.

You finish the speech you so clearly prepared and exhaled while looking at him expectantly, guilt written all over your face, he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, the silence filling up his spacious office until it's broken with a deep chuckle, your shoulders slump down, that definitely wasn't the reaction you were expecting, he rises from his chair and starts to make his way around the desk to where your standing, the sound of his hitting the floor with every step only makes you more nervous "what could you possibly want from another company love? everything you need is right here!" you shift your weight to step back "I..well I already told you why-" he steps closer invading your space "ah yes you mentioned it but that's simply not good enough, see, all the reasons you've mentioned I can take care of I still fail to see why you would go searching for that somewhere else, could it be me you're escaping?" you're eyes blow wide "no! of course not..look, sir, I'm sorry but even though I know you're fully capable of providing me with what I'm searching for but I've already decided..working with you has been-" you jolt as he slams his hand on the desk trapping you against it, his head hangs low for a second before he lifts it and your heart skips a beat at the look in his eyes, you've never seen him look at you that way the entire time you've worked here " ah..your behavior over the past two weeks makes sense now, you were too guilty to act the way you usually do because you knew it was special too! and you just couldn't bring yourself to do that when you were planning on leaving..oh you sweet little thing, it must have been so hard to act so cold towards someone so special to you but alas, your efforts are in vain because you're not going anywhere my love.."

[azrielslittleslut]

Hii! Can I please request a Azriel X Confident! Reader fic, so like she’s the type to be really straight forward and bold. In the fic Mor or Nesta can be going out to Rita’s with the reader and Azriel just so happens to be there, keeping his eye on the reader as she dances or does what not while Cassian and Rhysand tease him. You can end the fic however you want, than youuu:)

PS. I really love your writing style and I adore all your work, it would be an absolute honor if you wrote this💗💖

"The Intervention"

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight language, fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: thank you for your kind words, anon! i took some liberties with this one, but i hope you enjoy this!<3

Even though it was Saturday night, Rita’s was busier than usual. The music was loud and thumping, causing Azriel to grimace as the pounding headache he’d had all day returned. “I don’t want to be here,” he grumbled to Cassian, who was standing to his right with a drink in his hand.

“Oh, come on, brother,” Cassian said, clapping a large hand on Az’s shoulder. “You’ve been gone to the Continent for three weeks. You need to let loose and relax. The Mother only knows how much you need it.”

Azriel’s shadows were restless as they swarmed around his shoulders and wings, a sign that they too were exhausted. His mission had been long and grueling, and he hadn’t returned with any solid information. All he wanted was to go back to the House of Wind and get some sleep.

“Why are we here anyway?” Azriel asked Cassian, who had drained his glass. “I don’t understand why this... relaxing night out couldn’t have waited.”

Az had barely landed in the training ring at the House when Cassian had hauled him back into the air. Even though he had protested, Az didn't have much fight in his body due to his exhaustion, so he had let his brother haul him back into the city and into Rita's.

Cassian's chuckle brought him back to the present. "Nesta wanted a night out. We have a new addition to our little circle," he said, reaching over to elbow Azriel in the ribs, "which you would know about if you had been here the last few weeks. She wants to introduce her to the Velaris night scene."

Azriel rolled his eyes. "I'm the spymaster," he said, looking back out to the crowd on the dance floor. "Of course I know about the addition to the Court."

The problem was... Az didn't know. He had been so caught up in his duties, he hadn't bothered to pay attention to the person Rhys had hired. But he sure as hell wouldn't let Cassian know that.

"Hmm," Cassian mused, his hazel eyes twinkling. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he was cut off by Nesta's voice.

"Hello, boys," she said, her voice soft, but it was laced with an emotion Azriel couldn't place. "Having fun without me?"

Cassian pulled her in for a kiss, and Azriel quickly looked away from the public display of affection the two of them so often engaged in. "It's never much fun without you, sweetheart," he said, pulling away to scan the room. "Where is Y/N?"

Nesta pointed to the dance floor with a finger. "Over there. Apparently, she rivals me with her love of dancing."

"And she's probably better at it, too," Rhys responded, stepping up to the group. "Feyre tells me she trained under a professional dancer from Dawn Court."

Cassian gave a nod of approval. "That makes sense, considering that's her home court." He tilted his head toward Azriel. "Right, Az?"

Azriel, who had been barely paying attention to the conversation, nodded distantly. "Yes. I hear Dawn is known for their dancers."

Nesta's face contorted with confusion. "But she's not-"

Cassian interrupted her with a gentle smack on her ass. "Go dance," he purred. "Rhysie and I will stay here and keep Az company."

With a final look at Azriel, Nesta wandered away, heading toward the thick throng of people crowding the dance floor. Rhys leaned against the counter between Cassian and Azriel. "Are you alright, brother?" he asked, his violet eyes full of concern.

"What do you mean?" Azriel said, his wings twitching behind him in frustration. He hated when Rhys looked at him like that, as if he were a child who was about to be scolded for something. "I'm just tired."

"Well," Cassian drawled, peaking over Rhys's shoulder, "you have proven your Spymaster abilities tonight. Y/N isn't from Dawn. She lived there for a while, but she's originally from Summer."

Azriel felt his face flush slightly. He glanced over at his shadows, glaring at them with rage-filled eyes. It was rare that they didn't let him know information, especially information as simple as that. "Of course. My mistake."

Azriel stepped to the side, calling on his shadows to winnow him far away from this place when a dancing female caught his eye. She was wearing Night Court attire: a midnight blue dress that had a fitted bodice. It was adorned with tiny crystals that sparkled like stars under the club's lights. The skirt was lightweight and airy, and it swirled around her body as she spun in a circle. The sleeves were long and sheer, ending in elegant cuffs at her wrists.

But her clothing wasn't what caught Azriel's eye. It was the way she moved and danced. She exuded confidence, every step and twirl executed with a mesmerizing fluidity. She danced with abandon, a radiant smile on her lips, her laughter ringing out above the music.

"Who is she?" Azriel asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

Rhys chuckled. "That, my dear brother, is Y/N. The new addition to the Night Court." He leaned back on the counter, crossing his feet in front of him. "She's from the Summer Court, but she moved to the Dawn Court once she matured. She studied there for a few centuries, and now she's decided she needs a new change of scenery. I like her, and Feyre adores her," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, we need someone to mix up our little group. Don't you think?"

Azriel had no opinion on the matter. But he sensed that there was something Rhys wasn't telling him. He was about to ask him when a laugh drew his attention back to the dance floor.

You had wrapped your arms around Nesta, unashamedly grinding your body against hers. You didn't care who was watching as you moved against Nesta's body, lost in the rhythm of the music and the heat of the moment.

For as long as he could remember, Azriel had been attracted to reserved women, the ones who were quiet and kept to themselves. He was quiet, so he preferred the company of someone who shared that trait with him. He didn't like attention to be drawn to himself, so the last thing he wanted in a partner was someone who craved the spotlight.

But here he was, completely and utterly transfixed by you. A female who was the antithesis of everything he thought he wanted. Even though he knew nothing about you, you appeared to be bold and unapologetically confident. There was something magnetic about you, something that made his heart race and his shadows still.

"Well, well," Cassian said with a chuckle. "It seems that Azriel's exhaustion has suddenly disappeared."

"Indeed," Rhys responded with a laugh. "Why don't you go join them, Az?"

Azriel crossed his arms, willing his expression into his usual mask of neutrality. "Don't be ridiculous. You know I hate dancing."

Rhys shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. I guess we'll just call her over here, then."

Azriel opened his mouth to object, but he was too late. "Y/N!" Rhys called out, his voice loud over the music. He waved his hand above his head as he yelled, "Over here!"

Az's shadows wrapped around him, but they weren't fast enough. You appeared in front of them so fast, he wondered if you could winnow. Your movements were silent as you walked up, Nesta trailing behind you.

"High Lord," you said with a bow of your head. Your voice was soft like velvet, your lips curved up into a smile.

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Stop that. I told you to call me Rhys."

You giggled, and the joyous sound caused Azriel's heart to stutter in his chest. "I know. But it's so fun to pick at you."

Brave. Confident. Beautiful.

Azriel was in deep shit.

Cassian wrapped his arm around Nesta, who was looking at Azriel with a knowing smirk. "That's Azriel," she said, gesturing to him with a hand. "He's the one I was telling you about."

You looked at him then, eyes clear and calculating. You looked him up and down once and said, "Oh, you're Azriel. I was wondering who the creep was that was staring at us while we were dancing." You pouted your lips slightly as you looked at Nesta. "I thought you said he was handsome."

Azriel blinked. Normally, his presence caused people to cower in fear, especially females. He tilted his head at you as he squared his shoulders. He looked over at Rhys and Cassian and said, "I thought you said she was good at dancing."

Rhys's mouth fell open, and Cassian choked. Nesta only raised her hand to look at her nails. "I'm assuming the two of you didn't tell him about Y/N's role in our Court?"

Rhys shook his head, his black hair falling across his brow. "Not yet. Now I'm afraid to."

You stepped forward to place a hand on Rhys's broad chest. "Don't worry," you said with a smile. You turned back to Azriel, your expression warm. "My apologies. I sometimes come across as a bit harsh. It's one of my many faults. It's true, you aren't handsome... You are handsome and pretty. I like handsome and pretty."

Az blinked again. "I-" he stammered, searching for words. "I am sorry. You are very good at dancing. I like... people who are good at dancing."

Why couldn't this night be over already?

You clapped your hands together once, completely unphased by Azriel's blatant stupidity. "Well, since that's settled," you said, reaching out a hand to him, which he took, fighting the urge to look at his hands as they touched your skin. "I am Y/N. The Night Court's new Intelligence Analyst. I will be working for you."

Azriel stared, suddenly unable to form words. Had he failed? Did Rhys think he was unable to do his job?

"Hey, hey," Rhys cut in, placing a hand on Azriel's shoulder. "It's nothing against you, brother. We just think you need some... help. You don't sleep, and you barely eat. You run yourself ragged trying to command all of your spies and train them, all while taking care of reports and other spymaster duties." He gestured to you with a hand. "Y/N will help you read reports and sort documents. If anything, she will make it possible for you to spend more time with your spies, ensuring they are properly trained."

"You need to take some time for yourself, Az," Nesta said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Let her help you."

"Is this an intervention or something?" Azriel asked, unable to keep the harshness from his tone. All he knew was work, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself if someone else took over part of his duties.

"Not an intervention," Cassian said, his expression soft. "It's more of a... gentle nudge. You need a break, Az. You're burning yourself out, and we can all see it."

Azriel crossed his arms, his wings rustling in agitation. He glanced over at you, his eyes scanning over your body once. "Are you qualified?" he asked, his voice edged with skepticism.

You met his gaze steadily, unflinching. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

Rhys pushed himself off the counter. "She's more than qualified. She's worked closely with us for the past three weeks, handling reports and coordinating between courts."

Azriel's eyes narrowed as he considered this. "Handling paperwork for a spymaster is not the same as coordinating between courts."

You nodded, understanding his hesitation. "I know it's different, Azriel. But I've been trained for this. I understand the importance of confidentiality, the nuances of the information, and the precision required. Plus, I have a fresh perspective that might be beneficial."

Azriel remained silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. He was weighing his options, considering the potential risks and benefits. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Alright. We'll see how it goes."

Cassian grinned, clearly pleased with Azriel's acceptance. "Great. Now, let's enjoy the rest of the night."

You grabbed Azriel's hand, your skin soft and warm against his scars. His shadows darted out, wrapping themselves around your arm. You giggled as you looked down at them, completely unafraid of his darkness. "How about a dance, Mr. Handsome and Pretty?"

Azriel stared at you, momentarily taken aback by your boldness and the way you seemed so comfortable with his shadows. He was used to people shying away from his darkness, not embracing it. Your smile was infectious, and despite himself, he felt a small one tugging at the corners of his lips.

He let out a breath, the tightness in his chest easing. "Alright," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with something that felt dangerously close to hope. "One dance."

You led him to the dance floor, the music wrapping around you both as you moved together. Azriel's initial stiffness melted away as he got lost in the rhythm and your presence. The world around him faded, leaving only the two of you, dancing as if you had done it a thousand times before.

For that brief moment, Azriel allowed himself to forget his duties, his burdens, and simply be. And as he looked into your eyes, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could learn to let someone in.

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii

[greyskyflowers]

I feel like i haven't seen anything with a hell hound/grim Charles AU and I feel like that's not right soo..

Like, let's discuss.

There's a lot of ways this could happen and there's probably a hundred more that I haven't thought of but personally I'm really leaning towards one.

•

Prior to Charles being a living human, and then a ghost, he was hellhound. I like the idea of a curse being put on him, maybe he came looking for a witch and they weren't ready to be dragged to hell yet, and that forces him into the life of a human.

It's strong magic and it tucks all those memories and instincts behind a door way way in the back of his head. He's human when he's born and he's human up until he dies.

Edwin, however, immediately knows something is wrong when Charles dies. He doesn't know what it is, or what Charles is, but it's heavily tied to hell. He just spend decades there and he knows what it does to things. Just like the scent and touch of hell will always be smudged like dirty fingerprints on his soul, it seems it's true to Charles as well.

He does not run away from Charles though. He can't. Not after sitting with him while the other boy slowly died. A part of Edwin is ravenous for contact, for someone to talk to, for companionship. Part of him didn't make it back from hell and it left a hollow in his chest that aches with loneliness.

It also doesn't appear that Charles knows something is wrong with him.

Edwin will take his chances, honestly as long as it's not the damn spider he can make his peace with about anything.

And so, nothing is said about it.

However, the original curse eventually dissipates. At that time, all Charles' memories slam open the door in the back of his head and demand acknowledgement.

•

There's a limit to how much the human mind can handle before it just shuts down to protect itself. Which makes sense, however Charles dropping like a stone one day doesn't give Edwin much to work with besides a whole lot of fear and worry.

The mixing of memories, from before before and from his previous life, is messy. It takes awhile to translate the thoughts and memories into something that the human mind can handle.

And the Charles that opens his eyes is not the same as the one who closed them.

His nose is assaulted with scents, even more overwhelming after not being able to smell as a ghost for several years. And he smells hell. Faded but still undeniably hell.

He looks at the boy fussing over him and blanks for a minute. Edwin, his mind reminds him, ours a louder part cuts in. This one is ours. Edwin.

Frantic and as exhausted as a ghost can look, Edwin is talking but Charles isn't listening. He's taking it all in, everything slowly trickling back to him until he's himself but also more. A older and stronger part of himself has woken up.

He doesn't tell Edwin, terrified that he'll run as soon as he knows. It bothers him that he's not more upset about the being a hellhound thing. It should surely bother him more but it doesn't. It just feels like him.

It's hard to not give it away though, especially because it feels normal to Charles now. It feels like he's moving his whole body for the first time after only using parts of it. He's able to get most of it under control but things come out the more emotional he gets, especially with anger.

Canine teeth that sharpen a little too much to be human, strong and sharp nails that grow a little too long sometimes, a unhappy noise from his chest that could potentially be called a growl, a viciousness to him that's almost startling at times.

•

But... of course Edwin knows. He could have probably have made a decent guess all those years ago in the attic if he'd had to but he's confident now. He's not sure how a hellhound ended up human, let alone a ghost, but he doesn't question it too much.

Instead he plays his part too, doesn't say anything but he makes sure holy water doesn't get on Charles, always keeps an eye out to make sure he's far away from any demonic traps when a case calls for it, doesn't do anything that might potentially be a trigger for pain, and so on.

There's not a lot of resources available for this type of situation and Edwin does his best.

•

Cut to the start of the show and it makes sense that Charles likes Crystal. She's got hell on her soul a bit too, left from David, and psychics have a history with the occult.

It's easy to get caught up with her, the excitement of someone new. It has him urging Edwin to take a case in America, and not noticing small problems beginning to take root.

Somewhere along the way, something happens between him and Edwin. Usually they don't have issues and Charles wants to resolve this but he doesn't want to be the one to give in.

What's wrong with playing a little? Trying new thing and getting to know new people? They could all get along if Edwin would just relax.

Charles doesn't even get defensive when Crystal makes the occasional too vicious dig at Edwin, although the little betrayed looks he gets from Edwin make his skin itch. They both give as good as they get and he's willing to let them spit at each other until they've calmed down.

•

Charles will admit that possessing Esther was not the best choice he could have made, or even top 3, but it was the one he went with. He's never done it and probably never will again after seeing how upset Edwin was. It's fine though. They'll be fine.

It's not fine.

The Cat King, and god does Charles hate cats, puts the equivalent of a collar on Edwin. The bastard knows exactly what Charles is too, how insulting it is for him see Edwin leashed like dog.

He stays just beyond Charles' reach or close enough to Edwin that he can't do anything.

Are we playing a game his grin asks and Charles wants to rip the word no into his skin until he lets Edwin go.

•

Niko is a unexpected joy, especially for Edwin. As soon as she can see them, she asks Charles about his teeth. He doesn't pay attention to how Edwin also looks panicked at the question, just smiles at her and he's positive his teeth are human. She hums and get easily distracted by something Crystal is saying, but he makes a point to run his tongue over his teeth before he opens his mouth around her, just to make sure.

They keep getting distracted, by cases that are as interesting as they are frustrating, while trying to figure out how to get the bracelet off Edwin. The Devlin House is not his best moment, the case digging cruelly into sore spots he'd been trying very hard to forget he had. It also adds to the tension between him and Edwin.

•

Charles does not like the night nurse. Especially when she goes digging in his head, but he gets her back when she goes too far, gets too nosy and sees things she shouldn't. It's easy to give into the anger that's been gnawing at him for years, but he send her off over the the side of the cliff instead of just finishing her right there.

But she comes back, just like Esther does, and she leads that thing right back to Edwin.

•

The world narrows down to a pin prick where the wall reformed after closing behind the demon. There's a ringing in his ears that's not loud enough to cover Edwin's screams playing over and over in his ears. He turns on the night nurse growling so hard his throat burns, teeth aching from where they're clenched and bared at her. He's never been this mad. He's never been this scared.

Some type of survival instinct must kick in because she opens a door to hell for him, probably hoping he just stays down there. He doesn't remember his way around, or know where he'll even pop out at, so he snags Edwins notebook and opens it to the map he knows is there, and starts his descent.

It does come back, each step pulls up the memories and instincts until he's confident he could track Edwin by smell alone if he needed to. He ignores the woman sobbing on the stairs, she doesn't matter.

Limbo

Gluttony

Lust

Here. The dollhouse.

There's old blood on the walls of the hallways, mixed in with new, and in parts of it he can smell Edwin. Some of it old enough that it would have been from his first trip down and his skin prickles from how angry he is.

He doesn't need the lantern, his eyes have adjusted to see in the dim hallways and dark corners but he's knows it will comfort Edwin. It's a comfort to him too, even if he doesn't need it. It reminds him of when Edwin found him.

And he does find Edwin, a fluttering relief in his chest as he starts towards him and Edwin takes a step too. Only for him to be ripped away again, screaming, and Charles can already smell the fresh blood.

He doesn't really need to be quiet, not really. The demon isn't going to be eager to pick a fight with Charles once it realizes what he is, but it might get brave if it's over what is clearly it's favorite toy.

Edwin is more vulnerable then he's ever been though and Charles aches with it. Whatever Edwin wants, Charles will be completely silent if that's what he wants. Anything.

There's an ache, a burning, a balloon about ready to pop in his chest. He wants to find somewhere dark and small and safe for them. He wants to lick over the wounds he sees on Edwin and right, focus. Clearly he's starting to fall back into those instincts pretty strong.

They stop on the stairs and the only reason Charles doesn't just throw Edwin over his shoulder and continue up the stairs is because the other boy is clearly exhausted and has something he thinks must be said.

•

Love.

He loves Edwin. There's nothing he loves as much as Edwin and certainly nothing he could love more.

In love... what does that mean?

The completely human part of him thinks of his parents and nonono, that's not right. The hellhound part, that's sitting right under his skin due to being back in hell, tells him to kill something and leave it at Edwin's feet.

Neither of those seem right. However killing the spider demon for Edwin is incredibly tempting and he makes a note to revisit the thought later.

He can't say nothing to Edwin though. So he says something, the first thing that he can string into a sentence and hopes it's enough.

It seems to be because they're moving again, making it through the door just in time.

•

The cat king's bracelet is gone and Charles wants to go home. He wants to drag Edwin through the nearest mirror and hid away in their office for a week or more. He wants to look Edwin over, feel along all his joints to make sure they're okay because that's where the demon spider would have started when it ripped him apart, the joints giving way easier than trying to snap bone. Not that it didn't do that too.

He doesn't want to abandon the girls though and they stay.

•

Charles hates witches. To be fair, his last real run in with a powerful witch ended with him being reborn as a human. He really hates Esther though.

She knows, just like the cat king did, what he is.

There's runes on the floor under him, and even if he gets out of the iron collar he's still going to be stuck. The collar is a insult as much as it's a way to keep him under control.

He's stuck, Edwin screaming in the next room and he's going to tell Edwin everything after this. He wants to learn everything he can about himself so he never gets put in this situation again. He knows he could get out of this if he had more understanding and practice. The iron burns but he can burn hotter, he knows he can, and the runes can be broken, he just doesn't know how.

Niko and Crystal will have to do for now though, they slide him his bag, which slides over some of the runes and makes a break in them. He finds the lockpick quick after that and he's free and up in moments. He aches to go to Edwin, his teeth itch and he can barely think about anything else, but the girls were right. He needs to kill the snake.

Thankfully, the snake dies quickly under his rage and he's upstairs again in just minutes. EdwinEdwinEdwin runs on loop in his head.

He's not quick enough to save Niko and he can feel Edwin's heartbreak from across the room.

Crystal and Niko are Charles', not the same way Edwin is but still something close and loved. They have to move though, death is going to come for her.

Edwin is crashing. Exhausted, overwhelmed, and devastated. He can barely stay up even with help and eventually Charles just picks him up. There's no fight, he just accepts it.

He's quiet. Charles hopes he doesn't think he's back in hell... or that he never left at all.

•

The unexpected arrival of the night nurse at their office, and the threat to Edwin, has Charles finally saying fuck it. He's going to get rid of her and after that he can beg Edwin for a chance to explain.

But he doesn't get a chance to. Instead he has to make sure his teeth aren't showing too sharp as he grins at their newest agency member. She huffs at Edwin a few times and seems genuinely upset but Charles can't bring himself to be sympathetic. She keeps an eye on him until she leaves, and he lets his teeth show right when she leaves as a reminder. Smart woman.

It's just them again, like it's always been, and he wants to cry as he hugs Edwin. It feels good to hold and be held.

Until Edwin pulls back and says he knows in a way clearly meant to show that he does indeed know.

Hellhounds tend to run hot, and even though Charles is dead and can't really have a body temperature, he does tend to run hot. However, he feels frozen, even colder than the night he died.

There's no fear from Edwin though. No screaming or running, no wards to trap him or spells quickly spoken to hurt him. Just Edwin, looking at him the way he always has, and Charles realizes like a punch to the gut that the look is love.

•

Edwin doesn't mind the too sharp teeth when they bite at his lower lip and neck. He doesn't mind the sharp nails where they sometimes catch a little on the skin of his hips. He doesn't mind the way Charles can smell and his favorite smell is apparently Edwin, who can't smell and has no idea what he even smells like anymore.

Edwin doesn't mind the growls and snarls, pulling out the softer sounds Charles didn't know he was capable of making. Edwin doesn't care.

He doesn't say anything specifically but Charles also knows the part of Edwin that thinks this wasn't his last run in with hell, is relieved. There's not a single place in hell Edwin could be taken that could be hidden from a hellhound, not a place in hell that Charles wouldn't find.

🌙🌙🌙🌙

I like my characters morally grey and ready to kill for each other.

This idea punched me on the face and stole my lunch money. Someone write me fics please 🥺

[muntitled]

𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

Jung Woo-Young x fem!reader

Being forced by his label to learn English fucking sucks but his tutor makes it just a little more bearable

Warnings: Wooyoung as his own warning, Language, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Idol x English!Teacher, Sapiosexual!Wooyoung, Slight!Jealousy, Academia Talk, Humor, Teasing, Smut (+18), heavy make out sesh, Slight Pervy!Wooyoung, Whimpering!Wooyoung, Dirty Talk, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Grinding, Brattiness, Self Degradation, Neediness, Slight Dub/CON, Dom/Sub undertones

Ft. Wooyoung and his canonical degradation kink

"What you need to understand is that Shakespeare used a significant amount of his time cautioning his audience against the perils of this mortal coil." Despite your vexation warming the pits of your stomach, you're thankful that your voice does not relay how utterly irritated you actually are. Your back is straight, giving nothing away of your exhaustion as you point to your copy of a Literature textbook.

"So, maybe I should've initially explained that the biggest theme of this sonnet is grief," you explain, drearily, letting your fingers knot into your curls as you soldier on through the text.

You could almost hear your coworkers discrediting you right now. How could one manage to hit the holy grail in getting chosen to tutor a bunch of stars and utterly fail at it in the process? Your PhD is mourning her sorrows.

"That is bad tutoring on my part, I apologise, Mr Jung, Sir," it is virtually impossible to bend into a full on bow in your current position on the chair adjacent to his bed so you settle for a quick nod of the head while skilfully avoiding eye contact.

"That's okay," Wooyoung lazily waves a hand in front of his face, "I just nearly threw up from hearing you call me 'Mr Jung'. Girl, I cried during Frozen 1 and 2... I am not the one you should be calling Mr Jung."

His ears visibly perk up just a little higher at the sound of your unprofessional, slightly airy chuckle. It has him practically scrounging for the need to hear you laugh like that again, to see your head be thrown back in a careless guffaw that only he is able to see.

But the moment ends as quickly as it began and you're visibly punishing yourself for your unprofessionalism by assuming your stoic academic role demeanour more.

"I think Mr Jung might be a little bit more professional." You finally look up at the boy sitting lazily against the headboard of his impressive king sized bed. Out of all the members you taught, you had only ever been permitted to see the inside of Wooyoung's bedroom - under the guise that he simply cannot function by being forced to sit on uncomfortable dining room chairs.

You sit opposite the bed, on a chair, to maintain some semblance of your dwindling professionalism,

"Mr Jung is so boring though!" He exclaims, throwing his head backwards and letting it sink into his mountain of fluffy pillows, "Wooyoung is completely fine! Or perhaps Baby. Or even Sexiest Man You've Ever Had The Pleasure Of Seeing," his lips curl into a smirk, "Your choice."

The text book is long forgotten amongst the dispersed sheets as Wooyoung glances up at you from his perch against his pillows. Of all the members, Wooyoung is also especially difficult to work with, not in any academic capacity, just in the sense that his advances are endless. And whether he actually means it - whether that twinkle in his eye accompanied by that cheeky grin was really real, or just endless teasing due to his innate flirtatious design. You might never really know.

"I can't in good conscious refer to you by that last option." You reply with a light shrug before crossing your legs in front of you, "I've met Choi San, and I'm not in the business of lying to you,"

"Oh! That's how we're gonna play now!? You're just gonna bring up another man in my presence? I thought the relationship we had was something special?"

"I'm an underpaid, mediocre teacher," You forget yourself and snort through a chuckle, "I have no time to forge special relationships."

He is stunned and slightly turned on by your cool commitment to the banter, not expecting you to hit back with such a quick jest.

As Wooyoung watches you from behind the few loose strands framing his face, his long hair loose, he realises he enjoys associating you with that forbidden word, even if it is just in his head.

Relationship.

"I'm not really into that negative self-talk." He says, watching you intently, "You're a good teacher."

"You're just saying that," You swat at the air in front of you, before burying your chin into your chest - that shy streak of yours rearing its head. He noticed that every sliver of a compliment led you to the involuntary need to disappear and Wooyoung wanted to correct that as best as he could.

"I say some stuff sometimes to make people feel better, yes," you finally look up at him from your scattered notes. His eyes are characteristically bright and his glistening lips are pulled into a small smile, "But this is not one of those times," He forces out, fighting against a familiar warmth pooling in the depths of his stomach.

"Right," you clear your throat, before assuming the role of tutor once again, "So… Sonnet 71 -"

In your periphery, Wooyoung raises his hand. Without looking up from your notes you reply, 'I know what you're gonna ask, Wooyoung but no, unfortunately you cannot refer to it as 'Sonnet 71'. Not many people care nowadays but the ones that do, want you to refer to the poem by its full title: 'No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead.'" there's a bravado that graces your tone as you settle into your tutelage. It allows you to assume an almost elevated role as your eyes scan the text while simultaneously stringing a web of tantalising words together.

Wooyoung tries to focus on exactly what it is you're actually saying, he really does, but soon, you're stifling a quiet yawn before stretching your left arm over your head. He does not believe you intended for your breasts to push up from the low dip of your v neck, but that's exactly what happens and that pool of lava that has been welling in his stomach slowly rushes to his cock. Needless to say, Wooyoung slyly grabs the textbook onto his lap.

"So Shakespeare's great caution is that of grief. It's okay to mourn your loved ones but not to mourn them in routine, because that then can become a second death, equally as detrimental. Are you listening, Wooyoung?" his head snaps up from your chest, to the sound of the light scolding in your voice and he can instantly conclude that he is hard. He's not sure why, but your tone has his resolve weakening, and his head spiralling further into a fog.

"Please tell me, you're listening, Wooyoung. This is very important," He nods slowly with his shoulders hunched, and his eyebrows curved into crescents. He did not trust himself to speak, not when your words had him imagining you scolding him petulantly while he plowed into you from behind. Screaming at him to stop being so bad while he forced his hard cock deeper and deeper. He can vividly imagine your tight walls gripping his cock like a fucking vice while his fingers squeezed your nipples until they ached.

"Look, Wooyoung, I've been trying to be nice but it's been 3 hours and we're still on the first sonnet," he stopped his head from nodding profusely at the degradation that wants to seep into your tone while he watches you with darkened eyes. His fingers curl slowly into the ends of the open book on his lap, as he pushes his textbook into his lap. "We've done this long enough, Wooyoung," you continue with your ample chest beginning to rise and fall and the first signs of your bra strap, peeling from underneath your top. "You should know this, Wooyoung"

"Fuck," He involuntary groans, while he moves his textbook slightly, enough to create friction but not nearly enough to achieve the friction he actually desires. Before he gets completely ahead of himself, he stills his movements, opting to distract himself by speaking, instead.

"O-okay but if this is a poem about grief, why the hell am I seeing him talk about summer."

"Summer?"

Wooyoung nods, humming. "This man is talking about summer," he says, pointing to the book on his lap.

"Wooyoung…" You instinctively get up from your perch on your chair, advancing on him. Wooyoung visibly swallows as you plop yourself next to him, shoulder to shoulder as you peer over into the book on his lap. While your eyes frantically scan the printed ink, Wooyoung watches you from the side, trying to pen your face to memory, especially from having you so close.

"Wooyoung, this isn't the right poem!"

He watches you with slightly hooded eyes, completely unaware to anything outside of the tone of your voice

"It isn't?" He shakes his head, agreeing instantly with your scolding but not really hearing what you're saying. His words are slurred and his tone is distracted.

"Oh my gosh- you've completely missed the entire poem."

"I have?"

"Jesus, you haven't been listening to me, have you-"

He's already shaking his head as he leans in, muttering a quiet, "I haven't," as the tips of his fingers find the underside of your chin and drags you towards him. Dazed.

You're utterly dazed as soon as your lips connect with his. Somehow, the entire concept of space and time and everything in between seems utterly useless, the words on the page seem frivolous and everything outside of this moment feels like it shouldn't have the right to exist. He is kissing you and soon you are kissing him back, filling the boy with an unprecedented sense of elation at having his attraction to you validated. He is so elated in fact, he pushes off his text book and, without breaking the kiss, manoeuvres you onto his lap instead.

You're gasping into his mouth as soon as you feel his bulge connect with your core, "I know, I know, I'm sorry," He murmurs drunkenly into your kiss, taking the time to push his tongue into your mouth and brush up desperately against yours. The tone of his voice steals all composure, and soon you're pushing against him, rushed and hurried, like a raging fire before the embers set. You and Wooyoung are absolutely unstoppable as his hands travel up and down the sides of your body, hungrily searching for any sliver of skin, needing to feel your body heat searing into him.

The very moment your hands slither into his thick, grown-out hair, he is utterly done for, bucking into your hips until his bulge was brushing hungrily against your core. A torrid moan espaces your throat when Wooyoung dips into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the softness of your skin and the comfort of your perfume while hands travel down your hips, urging you to move in tandem with him.

"So good," He mumbles against your skin, "You feel so good, baby." But your mind is flooded with a tempest of conflicting feelings and emotions as you pull lightly on his strands and follow along with his movements.

"Wooyoung…" you're panting breathlessly, suddenly painfully aware of how much your body responded to him.

"God, I love it when you say my name," He slurs as he continues to push up into you, finally settling into a needy but effective flow of movements.

Your panties are utterly soaked underneath your silk maxi skirt as the boy below you splays wet, lascivious kisses along your collar bones. Once he sees you're moving in tandem with how he needs you to, he releases one hand on your hip to paw desperately at your breasts.

"You've been-" your head is spinning as you try to formulate your sentence, "You've been sitting here with a hard on, my entire lesson?" Your words only spur his movements as Wooyoung clamps down around your torso, pushing you further down against his cock. "Fuck!" He screeches almost involuntarily at the delicious friction created by the heightened speed.

"So bad…" He murmurs drunkenly, as he begins to push up against your clit in a dangerous display of desperation, "I.. b-been so bad- m'sorry," Your head is thrown back into a moan stuck deep in your throat as you listen to the boy's needy whines, "m'so sorry, you're just so pretty," your hops move faster against his, not quite sure if this is a dream and too freaking terrified to find out as you hunt down the remnants of your oncoming orgasm.

"Wooyoung- you're gonna m-make me-"

Your hips are utterly restless against his, as you begin to grind down with immense passion. Wooyoung's head is spinning with the inevitability of making you cum. All he wants to do is make you happy. Think of how proud you'd be if he made you cum without even touching you really. You'd be so freaking happy you might just let him slide his cock inside your wet, slippery folds...

"O-Oh God, fuck- I'm cumming!" His hips rut erratically against yours, pushing agaisnt your clit until you're sent hurtling into your own orgasm. You're both moaning, whimpering messes as you grind against each other, Wooyoung clutching against your torso, with his head buried in your chest as your fingers pull mindlessly at his hair. He is in utter heaven, surrounded by the softness of your curves, with his head against the roundness of your chest. There is nothing better than this. Everything else is secondary.

"Fuck, I hate Shakespeare's but I'll read a 1000 of his poems if it means I get to do that again," he is the first to speak amongst your ragged, loud breathing.

"Wooyoung?"

"Hm?"

"Shakespeare only wrote 154 poems,"

[teenytinyjimin]

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.