#have you heard him speak… so poetic for what

[swampthingking]

the thought of cracking the spine of a book makes kevin nauseous. he like opens it just enough to see the words and holds the book at such uncomfortable angles to read— anything to keep the book pristine and intact. he does not let people borrow his books because he is a control freak (as a term of endearment) and does not trust them to take care of them the way he does.

and andrew is the complete opposite, cracking the spine as soon as he opens it. he annotates in pen. he dog ears the pages because who the fuck has time to find a bookmark. he throws books out of anger. he throws them at aaron for fun. he lets them get smashed and torn in his bag. he always keeps them, he just prefers them to look like they’ve been read.

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: FUSHIGURO

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. Anon. I love you and hate you for this request. This was…hard. I told myself I wouldn’t publish it unless it was fucking perfect (you should see the scalpels I took to each goddamn sentence before this version).

SECOND: I will square up with Gege for writing the most enigmatic, LAYERED, complex, muddled character to exist. I wanted this to be Megumi. Through and through. His darkness, his light, his reservation, his crazy, all in one. And IDK. I think I did it? This one is purely to prove to myself that I can write for characters that are hard to write for (*cough* yuta im glaring at you *cough*)

THIRD: if you do read this (I get people feel things about aged up characters etc), I implore you to listen to this. Guys. I heard this at 0200 IN THE OR during a 6 hour case and the entire concept for this came to me. Meg is sophisticated and unruly, selfless and selfish, etc. So this has some NSFW but definitely probably more on the poetic, long ends of my works.

CW: Aged up characters (20+), college AU, fluffy/raunchy/dark romance-y because LOOK at him. He takes after Gojo AND Toji. Mature, 18+

“You like it when I’m rough.”

Megumi’s melody rings crystal clear.

Low.

Precise.

An F-14 Tomcat fighter jet, flying dark. Below enemy radar.

The piano keys float beneath his tone. His long, slender, deft fingers effortlessly execute the sheet music before him. It’s his GPS system, a personal flight map.

Little Beethoven, his advanced music theory professor calls him.

Truth is, Megumi is a prolific pianist and vocalist. He can tame any note, any melody, any harmony faster than any of his Shikigami.

Speaking of…

Megumi pulls off the piano and tortured love song in an instant. Just as the grade 3 curse creeps through the open door.

The part between his right long and ring fingers is automatic. His left hand grips the web space between his right thumb and index finger.

“Demon dog.” Megumi summons.

Low. Precise. Decisive.

“Eat it, boy.”

A small, approving smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Low level curses are the nothing more than chew toys to his divine dogs. With a tiny wave of his fingers, his technique buzzes inward.

Megumi’s eyes float to the ancient analog clock on the wall.

13:50

10 more minutes until you’ll meet him for your date.

No. Not date.

Study. 10 more minutes until you’re meeting him to study.

Your thought blooms within him like wildfire. It sets his normally cool, porcelain skin ablaze.

Megumi whips his body around to face the piano. To exorcise the feeling. The keyboard has always been his outlet. His life blood. Playing, singing, musing in and out of written songs is his catharsis.

Words don’t come easy. They never have. But lyrics do.

And when he gets to ride lyrics with his voice, his runs..?

The words he can never find on his own are suddenly out there. In the atmosphere. Coating empty rooms in a mist of his thoughts, his feelings.

No certain promise that the person the words are destined for will ever catch them. Or ever walk through the room and be kissed by the remnants of his musical trail. But Megumi has said (sung, played) them. And that’s enough.

“Sorry if I come across a type of way.”

“I’ve been trying to get out of my way…”

His fingers dive into the keys. Angrily. Earnestly.

“I know it doesn’t seem like I care, but you know I care—“

“Wow Meg, you sound incredible.”

You bring him to an abrupt stop. Your voice is maple syrup trailing down Megumi’s neck, leaving goosebumps in its candied wake.

Pitch fucking perfect.

A soft, ethereal C, gliding down Heaven’s staircase. You infuse sunlight into his name, whichever way you choose to say it.

And it’s hell. It’s cruel. To have as keen hearing as he does. To listen to you sing his name and have nothing else follow.

“Fushiguro.” Megumi shoots up from his seat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“What?”

“Fushiguro.” He repeats, eyes briefly meeting yours before settling above your head. He’s at least a head and shoulders taller.

“Nobody calls me Meg.”

You throw your head back. Feather light crescendo in your laughter. It’s pretty. Tantalizing in the way chandeliers twinkle when they capture a beam of light.

His eyes dart down to catch the feminine column of your neck. Curving into your delicate collar bones. How are your lines so seamless?

So cinematic. Like he’s watching a figure skater land a triple axel. Or a prima ballerina en pointe. It’s not fathomable.

Gorgeous.

You are gorgeous.

“I call you Meg.” You retort with a smile that liquifies all of his joints.

You double your walking speed to keep pace with Megumi’s long strides. Both of you exit the sound engineering building. Heading straight for the campus library a couple blocks away.

“Who were you—oh,” Megumi’s glacial hand along the small of your back steals your voice away.

Your eyes and feet follow his gentle push, shifting you to the other side of him.

“Walking on the wrong side.” He mutters, monotone. Matter-of-fact. Obviously.

He’s a gentleman. Of course he is going to walk on the traffic facing edge of the sidewalk.

Of course he didn’t feel the electric currents wire through his fingers to clench — suffocate — his heart.

No, he didn’t hear that punched out, falsetto gasp when his hand cradled your perfectly tapered waist.

Or notice how well you fit into his hand. How light you are under his touch that had none of his real strength behind it.

You’re made of alluring lines. Intoxicating sounds.

What would it take to coax a pretty melody out of your pouty lips?

His fingers?

They’re long. And smart. Cold. Remarkably patient. You’d like them.

He could make you love them.

Crave them. Need, whimper, whine, and cry out for them.

“So who was it?” You tether him to reality.

“Who was what?” Megumi counters, leading you to a private study room.

“The way you were singing earlier.”

Hairs along the back of his neck stand at attention. Blood runs Siberian cold. Megumi’s gaze on you is subzero.

“It had to be for someone.” You lower down into a seat in slow motion.

The sweetheart neckline of your sundress is mean. Your supple mounds tilt and ripple with every micro movement. Megumi has forgotten why he’s glaring at you.

“You sound too…pretty. It can’t be wasted on thin air.” You continue.

“She must be—“

“Let’s just get started, okay?” He sharply redirects the conversation.

And promptly shifts gear to low autopilot. He’ll speak when spoken to, answer questions intermittently. But his mind’s true coordinates are a galaxy away.

Megumi retreats to his shadow garden.

Watching you.

Drinking you in.

Savoring each detail on his tastebuds like dessert.

The pencil eraser leaves an indent on your bottom lip where you’ve been pressing too hard.

Megumi wants to roll your bottom lip under his teeth. Until it flushes rose and swells beneath his relentless pull.

His eyes fall to your bracelet, far too big for your dainty wrist.

He could hold both of your wrists in one hand above your head or behind your back for hours. Without breaking a sweat.

His other hand would take its time.

To stroke you. Pet you. Learn your sheet music. Then play your body like a harp until you’re a chorus of beautiful, soprano whimpers and moans. Begging and pleading so prettily, enticing him to give in.

But he won’t.

Not until you’re soft enough. A babbling, warm, ruined brook beneath his fingers.

Then he’ll take you, gorgeous.

Searing pain from his sharp swallow and nails digging into his thighs rip him down to the present.

Vision a little fuzzy. Head a revolving door of vulgar scenarios. A dull, demanding ache between his legs draws his eyes to his lap.

Fucking hell.

His jeans are uncomfortable. He’s stiff and needy. Not nearly enough strength in his pants to hold back his drunken arousal.

Not to the mention, the—

swarm of shadows growing at his feet?

Is his…innate domain materializing around him right now?

Megumi aggressively slices through the air at his hip level. Below the table, but you don’t miss his sudden stirring.

“Meg? You okay over—“

“Going to the bathroom.” He gruffs through a clenched jaw. Megumi places his forearm over his crotch before hurrying out of the room.

He can barely recognize the man in the mirror. Flushed to his ears. Volcanoes threatening eruption in his eyes. Api Biru. Pure, triple distilled, blue lava coursing through his veins.

Snap out of it, Fushiguro.

The splash of cold water does nothing for his internal heat. But his milky complexion returns to its effervescent state.

But then he turns a little too quickly to leave. And his painfully hard length drags along his fabric. It’s blinding.

A feeble moan tumbles out of his tight lips.

“Fuck.”

Megumi slams his eyes shut. He needs to readjust. But if he touches himself now, he might not be able to stop.

A slow, steadying breath fills his lungs.

“Just adjust, don’t…” His voice trails off. Icey fingers around his hot, angry base is enough to rip the carpet from beneath his feet.

“Oh, fuck.” Megumi mumbles through one quick pump up his shaft.

He shakes his head as if to tell himself enough. He rests his erection along his thigh before zipping up. Still painful, but tolerable.

A tornado obliterates any remaining resolve in Megumi’s mind on his walk back to you.

You are a dream.

Or a nightmare? A curse?

It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t care less.

Megumi would follow you. Deeper than the crypts of his 10 shadows. Into hell if it meant he could have you the way he wants you.

The way he craves you.

Because fuck the cost.

He’d pay anything.

You’re working on an elaborate concept diagram on the white board. On the tip of your toes. Lip curled under your teeth. And you are just irresistible.

So, he won’t resist.

“Meg! Took you a bit, you okay?”

Megumi is silent. Unblinking. Sauntering toward you.

“Megumi?”

You lower to the soles of your shoes. Neck craning to look at his face. Your eyes widen at his persistent silence. Rosy heat dusting your cheeks.

Pretty little doe, rooted in place by his wolfish glare.

Megumi takes the marker out of your hand and tosses it behind him in one swift motion.

“Hmm,” a tiny acknowledgment of his name. Just because it sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue.

Megumi corners you against the wall. Both of his hands casually in his pockets.

He watches you shift. Flicker your eyes in every direction. Fiddle with your thumbs.

His quiet.

His presence.

It flusters you. Well before he’s gotten the chance to run his hands along the lazy curve of your waist and hips.

“So…so blue.” You stammer. Your warm eyes metronome between his.

“They are.”

Megumi steps impossibly closer. His eyes drop to your chest. Dainty, nervous heaves. Up and down. Up and down.

“You are so,” you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze. “hard to read.”

Megumi snakes his large, graceful fingers into your nape. The temperature difference between your warmth and his cold startles you deeper into his grasp. Your head evanesces into his pull.

A beautiful, shocked gasp escapes you. Just as Megumi’s lips trace the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

His breaths collide with yours, now. Heat welling deep in his groin. His cock thunders against his thigh.

“Can you read that?” Megumi rasps. Ensuring his voice vibrates down your spine.

A new sound tumbles from your lips. Like you choked on your last swallow. How pretty. You gurgling and gagging like that.

“W-want me? Megumi wh—“

“I.” Megumi nudges his thigh between your legs. His steel pipe erection digs into your dewy, hot core. He angles his leg slightly upward, inching you on the tip of your toes.

His prima ballerina, en pointe.

“Want you.” His lips ghost against yours. Free hand cups the flesh beneath your thigh. Pads of his fingers twitching to dig in.

The two of you drink in this lock-in-key fit. Megumi revels in you. Like this. At his complete mercy.

The prodigal son, born with more power than he knows what to do with.

Ten shadows. Ten Shikigami. It’s been centuries since the last head of his bloodline had power buzzing beneath his fingertips like him.

And somehow he’s never felt more powerful than this.

With you, heaven’s most precious angel, cradled in his arms. Drowning in sinful ecstasy. He brands this freeze frame into the most permanent part of his memory.

Then, he free falls off your cliff edge.

Megumi takes your lips with unfettered greed. Hunger woven into the way his tongue traces every corner of your delectable, soft mouth. His fingers push your head deeper into him. Sucking and nibbling on your warm muscle.

You shower him with airy, choppy little pants. Moans and whines so light they crescendo to fairy dust. You can’t keep up with his bruising kiss. His other hand palms your thigh, kneading little bruises into your silky smooth skin.

Marking what’s his.

“Oh my god.”

You breathe into his mouth when he lets you up for air. Megumi’s eyes dart down to the meeting point of your sex and his muscular thigh.

Did you really think he wouldn’t notice how you’re rutting your pretty little cunt against his leg like that?

Crimson high on your cheeks. You look away when he tries to catch your fucked out gaze.

“Don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” His hand traces up to your hips. You preen into his firm grip.

“Megumi.”

“Don’t stop, pretty girl.” He forcefully moves your hips in more dramatic, languid, deep rolls against his thigh. He’s not paying any mind to the pool of his precum soaking through his pants.

You bury your head in his neck. Fingernails digging pretty crescent moons into his back. You take over the pace. Undulating against him. Shameless. In complete heat.

“You feel s-so…so good.” Your lips smear against his dampened neck. Megumi responds by circling your puffy, slick bud with his fingers.

And fuck. The slurred, broken whimper that rings in his ears.

The way you hump him even more sloppily.

He could finish from that alone.

Your hand flies to your mouth. Empty huffs spilling. Whines ascending in pitch. You are close.

“Such pretty sounds, baby.”

“Megumi…meg..I-“

“Let it out.” He grips the back of your neck. Feeling dangerously close to his own nirvana. Drunk off your precious melody.

“Sing for me.”

“F-fuck, GOD.”

You bite down on his neck. Waves of pleasure crashing into you like hurricane winds. He grips your waist steady. Feeling every involuntary twitch and jerk of your doll-like frame.

Blessing or curse?

He doesn’t know.

But he will follow you to the end of his lifetime and the next.

“God, Fushiguro. That was…” The lusty haze from your peak settles around you. The once shattered world, slowly pieces itself back together.

“No.” Megumi pulls you out of his neck. Dropping his lips to yours, so he can breathe the air directly from your lungs.

“Meg. You call me Meg.”

[felassan]

What's all this about Solas speaking in iambic pentameter? English isn't my first language so I never noticed anything odd about the way he talks, but your blog is the first time I've seen it mentioned by anyone

hello! ◕‿◕ Solas sometimes speaks in a specific pattern or rhythm. It sometimes gets described as or compared by people to iambic pentameter. (which is a type of rhythm common in traditional English poetry. Shakespeare used it in his sonnets and plays.) Though, I'm not sure that it's actually literally that or always that. The main point is that at those times, he's speaking particularly poetically, with a specific poetic rhythm in his speech. (Like where the stress on syllables is and the 'beats' in his speech.) Occasionally, the Inquisitor's dialogue line[s] in response to him are the same.

When Trick Weekes wrote Solas in DA:I, they wrote some of his key scenes to KD Lang's cover of the song Hallelujah on a loop. They talked about some of their process and the reasons for the use of this technique in terms of Solas' characterization in this DA:I-era blog post:

Trick Weekes: "When Solas talks about things that he saw in the Fade, things that speak to a distant past, I needed him to sound ever so slightly otherworldly and wistful – someone remembering a dream with a sense of both sadness and inevitability. If you follow [that link] and look at some of Solas’s lines, you may notice a familiar rhythm come out. It would have been forcing it to give lines the same rhyme scheme, but giving the words the meter captured some of that wistfulness and made Solas sound ever so slightly otherworldly. (In the rare cases the player got into the same rhythm, there was always an approval bump from Solas. For that brief period, it was like the player was thinking like he did.) I used this a few times over the game, and I love what it did to his voice. Also, Cori (who edited Solas) is exceedingly kind for putting up with my request that changes to those lines keep this surreptitious rhythm."

[source]

An example of when it happens in DA:I is:

"I've journeyed deep into the Fade // in ancient ruins and battlefields // to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash // to reenact the bloody past // in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war // has its heroes. // I'm just curious // what kind you'll be."

Compare this with the song's lyrics:

"I heard there was a secret chord // That David played, and it pleased the Lord // You don't really care for music, do ya? Well it goes like this: The fourth, the fifth // The minor fall, the major lift // The baffled king composing Hallelujah Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah"

An example from Trespasser is:

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep [I heard there was a secret chord] while countless wars and ages passed [That David played, and it pleased the Lord] I woke still weak a year before I joined you. [You don't really care for music, do ya?]" etc.

Recent mentions of this are:

Q. Will Solas still occasionally or dramatically speak in iambic pentameter? A. “Massive kudos to Patrick, who always writes Solas so well. Again, Solas is a returning character. It’s the same Solas you know and love (or hate depending on who you are). The same writer. So I think the answer is yeah, it’s Solas.” – John Epler

[source: BioWare dev Discord Q&A on June 14th]

User: "you really went off with solas. but the iambic pentameter makes writing fanfic dialogue for him so treacherous..." Trick Weekes: "It doesn't always have to be in the cadence! Just when he's deeply feeling The Old Days! He's written in standard prose 99% of the time!"

[source]

I think he does it a bit in the gameplay reveal video [Veil ripping scene with Varric] too. hope this helps :>

[msg refs this post]

[For the developer Q&A from June 14th on Discord: Notes are here, re-watch link is here]

[wooahaes]

a place you can come to, a place I can go to

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x fem!reader, ft coworkers!96z

genre: romance. kinda fluffy. just a very soft fic of wonwoo coming home. established relationship.

warnings: mentions of reader and wonwoo discussing having kids one day. reader has bad eyesight. reader is mentioned to be introverted.

word count: 1.8k~

daisy's notes: title taken from the lyrics for home

Wonwoo woke up to the sound of the captain speaking, announcing that the plane would be landing within the next hour or so. With a stifled yawn, he popped open his glasses case and began to compose himself. He reached underneath the seat, pulling out his backpack and rifling through it. He found a small bag of cheap toiletries, snagged his water bottle, and squeezed past Soonyoung with a soft apology for waking him up. 

He made his way to the plane bathroom, and rubbed at his eyes after a moment. He popped open the bottle of water, wetting his toothbrush before he began doing a little bit of basic hygiene. He could have waited until he was in the airport, but he wasn’t traveling alone. Soonyoung was out there asleep, and he’d passed by where Jihoon was awake and on his laptop (always working, Wonwoo swore) next to a half-awake Jun. With his teeth brushed, he threw away the disposable  toothbrush—his own was tucked away properly in his bag, and he didn’t trust breaking it out in an airplane bathroom unless he was going to boil the thing later. Then he paused, taking a better look at himself. He looked a little tired. Would you notice that? How would you wax poetic about him this time? You once told Wonwoo that you saw him in every romantic lead you wrote, and he’d been flattered. 

He finally left the bathroom, squeezing past someone else with a quiet apology for taking so long, and passed by Jihoon once again. His coworker looked up, giving him a polite nod before looking back at his laptop for a moment. Wonwoo popped open the overhead, zipping the toiletries into his carry-on instead. The cap of his mouthwash felt faulty when he screwed it back on, and he’d rather spare his laptop from an accidental spill by shoving the cheap, plastic baggie back into his backpack. A moment later, he met Jihoon’s eyes again.

“It’s her birthday today, isn’t it?” He said, far too awake for how early it was. All Wonwoo gave him was a silent nod, and Jihoon shut his laptop. “Hold on, then.” 

Wonwoo just pressed himself against the side of Soonyoung’s seat as a single father passed by with his baby still curled up against his chest. He caught a glance of the sleeping child, chubby cheeks squished against her father’s chest. Would that be Wonwoo one day? Quietly moving to the front to ask a stewardess about something, just to avoid rousing any of the other passengers, his child asleep in his arms while you slept in your seat? He found himself diving into this daydream a little too much. He hoped his child would have your eyes, even though you’d always mused aloud saying you hoped that any kids you had would be like him. Smart, patient, kind, and they’d hopefully have some of his looks. 

“Hopefully they won’t get our eyesight,” you’d giggled at the thought, head resting against his shoulder. “God, imagine how fucked that would be.”

It earned a soft chuckle from him. He had made peace with the fact you cursed long ago. It was nice that you cut down on the habit for him, though (although he’d heard you when you were heated at someone over the phone). You respected him enough to cut back, and he respected you enough to understand that you would never entirely quit because you were you. If anything, you’d thanked him once for it: you slipped up sometimes at work and always apologized profusely for it, and dating Wonwoo helped you slow down and be conscious of what you were saying. 

He did agree, though: thankfully, eyesight was something easily taken care of, but it would be pretty fucked up if your kids had both vision problems the two of you had. You’d laughed when he told you those exact words, too, before kissing him and joking that you were a bad influence after all. He’d hold back what he thought, though. You could never be a bad influence on him. Not when you brought him so much joy.

Jihoon reached forward, tapping something against his side to get his attention back. Wonwoo turned, and it was just a plain envelope, although a little thicker than if it just contained paper. He accepted it from him with a quiet thanks.

“It’s just money and one of those pins you said she likes.” Jihoon ran his thumb along the side of his laptop. “You chose between a few of them and I bought the one you put back. Tell her I said happy birthday.” 

Not all of his friends were like this with you. Wonwoo knew Jihoon was, because it had been Jihoon and Soonyoung who introduced you two to one another. You had been a longtime friend of Soonyoung’s, and it was Jihoon who thought that you would get along well with Wonwoo. He’d only meant it in a friendly way, but Wonwoo remembered when he told Jihoon the two of you started dating. He’d looked up, blinked a few times, and then congratulated him on the new relationship. 

You told him at one point that you had lunch with the pair. After Soonyoung left to use the bathroom, Jihoon quietly asked you to take care of Wonwoo. It had made Wonwoo blush to know that Jihoon was looking after him so carefully, and he’d later offhandedly mentioned it to Jihoon. He joked that he usually saw the situation reversed in fiction: a leading lady’s friends telling him to take care of you.

Jihoon had looked up again. “I know you’ll take care of her,” was what he said, “so I wanted to make sure she does the same for you.” 

Wonwoo tucked the envelope into his bag once he settled back in, and a moment later felt Soonyoung shift and rest his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder. He just shut his eyes, resting his own head against Soonyoung’s as he enjoyed a few minutes of peace. Traveling for work wasn’t something out of the question for him—he was usually one of the ones going somewhere if anyone was going. But traveling without you? It felt weird after the first time. He would see things and quietly muse about how you would respond to them. The two of you went to Japan almost three years ago now, and he made sure that the two of you went when the cherry blossoms were blooming. His phone background was you staring up at the pink flowers, a candid he was thankful to have taken. The soft, amazed look in your eyes, the way your lips were slightly parted, all too astonished at how beautiful nature could be. It was saved for his home screen, though. A little memory exclusive to him and you and anyone who happened to notice you in that moment. His lock screen would always be a picture of the two of you together with you centered, the apple of his eye and love of his life. 

The plane eventually landed, and Wonwoo stood with Soonyoung as the pair waited for Jihoon and Jun to rejoin them. Soonyoung had been half-asleep, swaying into Wonwoo’s side a few too many times. Wonwoo just wrapped an arm around him, patting his head. He’d been unable to sleep with the turbulence earlier in the flight, and Wonwoo couldn’t blame him. 

Even still… His mind was on you. Would you be awake by the time he came home? As much as he hated knowing it, you had to work today. The two of you had already set the plans in stone before he left for this trip: he would take you out tonight to celebrate your birthday, and then the two of you would probably cuddle and sleep while recovering from work and travel. A comfortable night for two introverts in love.

Wonwoo was the one who drove everyone home with the company car. First Soonyoung, who had Jihoon following after him to make sure he didn’t trip on the stairs up to his apartment and bust something in the fall. Then Jun, who waved him onward while insisting that he go ahead and drop Jihoon off and hurry back to you. Jihoon had thanked Wonwoo for returning the car to the company, heading up to his own house with his bag hanging off of his shoulder. And then it was just Wonwoo, listening to the radio as he relaxed against the driver’s seat. Soon enough, he was on his way home to you. The cab dropped him off outside the little home he owned with you, and he walked up the stone pathway. Had you taken care of the yard, keeping it all nice and neat? Or did you get Mingyu to do it, like Wonwoo said you could? You had always insisted that you could handle everything just fine, but Wonwoo had always believed there was no shame in passing the work onto someone else (especially someone who had offered) if you wanted to rest instead. In the end, it didn’t matter. The work had been done. 

Wonwoo unlocked the front door, quietly making his way inside. He set his bag down, stretching one final time before he started to put himself in order. Tennis shoes on the shelf next to your own, house slippers pulled out from where you must have put them while cleaning the entryway, keys back on their hook… It was nice to be home again. He had bought home new things to decorate your home with, but he’d unpack them from his luggage later. Wonwoo just picked his bag back up, and made his way to your bedroom together. He cracked the door open, smiling to himself when he saw you still curled up asleep. You still had time before you had to get up for work, thankfully. And he…

Well. As much as he wanted to stay awake longer, he needed a little more sleep, too. So he left his bag by the door and crawled into bed with you, leaving his glasses on the nightstand. He turned over, ready to curl up and fall asleep, only to stop and admire you. He’d tease you later for drooling in your sleep (you made fun of his bed head so, so many times by now—it was a love language between the two of you). He just reached forward, pulling the blanket back over you so you could sleep comfortably.

Yet you stirred awake right after, eyes searching for his own in the low light. “Wonwoo…” Your voice was hoarse and quiet, but he still heard his name clear as day. You tugged at his shirt, drawing closer as you curled up in his arms. Then he felt you press a sleepy kiss to the underside of his jaw before snuggling back in. “You’re home.”

He just held you closer, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m home,” he confirmed once your arms were around him. “Happy birthday, my love.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao@synthetickitsune@wonuziex@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[taesanluv3r]

sleeping beauty

park sungho x reader

established relationship fic, as requested in this ask! this is the cutest thing i've ever thought of TT it came to mind right before bed and i ran down my bunk bed to type it out in my notes app LMAO. sungho calls reader princess :3 lowercase intended, pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyyyy!

wc: 1,742

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"my princess...wherever could you be?"

park sungho sighs but laughs a little at his tendency to speak poetically like he were in a shakespearean novel. he's standing by the tallest tree in the local park, his fluffy hair blowing in the air as a gust of cool wind passed by him. he's been waiting there for over fifteen minutes past their meeting time. it was too out of the ordinary for his girlfriend to be this late. so where was she? where was the usually punctual yn ln?

another minute goes by and the boy decides he couldn't stand it anymore. worried, and hurriedly he begins to walk towards the direction of her house - maybe he'd meet her half-way, otherwise, he'd just have to give her place a visit.

it being the latter, sungho arrives at her front door. he knocks on it once, and then twice before he was greeted by her mother's surprised smile. "sungho! hello sweetheart, what brings you here?" the woman's voice was pleasant; she's quite fond of the sweet boy by the door. "hey mrs. ln, i was just wondering if yn was home? she was running a little late to our date...i got a bit worried, that's all" he, too, ends his sentence with a soft smile, similar to that on the woman's face.

"oh, why she just came back from work about an hour ago...haven't seen her since she went to her room! why don't you come in? it's getting cold out here"

the boy follows the woman in, closing the door behind him as he entered the cozy home. "that poor girl..." his girlfriend's mom speaks up again, peaking the guy's interest. "she's been so busy lately...all with work and college. hardly get's any sleep, that girl! good she's finally on a break, today was her last day of the term, see..." a light-bulb went off in his head at the woman's words.

that must be it, he thought, she must've fallen asleep.

after getting the permission, and excusing himself from the down-stairs living room, sungho begins to climb up the carpeted steps. he takes a left at the end of the short hallway, passing by many pictures of his partner's family before finally making it to her bedroom. polite as ever, the boy knocks softly on the door to let the girl inside know of his presence. only when he heard no response did he let himself in.

"hey princess..."

the nickname he had gotten so used to calling her fades out of his mouth, his lips closing quickly to stop any further noise. there she was - yn ln was fast asleep on the edge of her bed. it didn't quite look like a comfortable slumber however; the girl still had on all her work clothes, the bag she took with her to campus early in the morning slouched over on the floor leaning against her bed-frame as if she had just tossed it there. and her bed itself was a whole mess of its own. sheets unfolded, books and papers scattered all over, the remains of her make-up from when she got ready clustered on her bed-side table, right next to the piles of clothes that stacked up on the floor.

once again the boy sighs, he hadn't visited her home in a while - he had no clue, how much the love of his life had been struggling.

"oh princess..." he calls to her again, though the only sound that came out of her were silent snores. sungho scans the room once more, nodding as the gears in his head began to turn. he scrunches up the long sleeves of his blue knitted sweater, tucking the loose ends of his long-ish hair behind his ears.

first, he moved away everything that was on top of her bed over to the floor, making sure the slumberous girl had the room she needed to rest a little better. then, carefully, he bended down to lift her into his arms as softly as humanly possible so as to not wake her. his hands move down her body to unbutton her work uniform, removing it and tossing it where the rest of her laundry was. he does the same with her jeans, and the rest of her clothes. he stops momentarily to grab a t-shirt from her closet, helping her into it slowly. the boy moves her to the further right side of the mattress - her favourite spot. he drapes the pale pink blanket over her body, stopping right below the chin. he watches as she shifts unconsciously, her body sinking deeper into the covers. sungho takes a step closer, pressing his lips to her forehead and whispering softly into her ear. "sleep well, princess" she smiles, as if she were fully aware of his presence.

"now...where to begin?"

for the next hour or so, park sungho quietly roams around the girl's bedroom. he had put her papers away, placed her books back onto their shelf, hung her bag in the closet, and carefully closed the lids on all her beauty products, putting them down one by one in the separate sections of the drawer under her vanity. he takes a moment to breathe, and to look back at his sleeping beauty, still fast asleep.

then, he dives into the pile of clothes on her floor. he sorts them into piles of whites and coloured before stuffing them into her two laundry baskets that sat in the corner of her bathroom - while he was in there, he took it upon himself to pick up the chunks of her hair that clogged up the sink, wiping her mirror down with a damp cloth as well.

finally, he arranges the mess atop the TV stand, reorganizing her tiny action figures, and picking up the pictures that had fallen off of her wall collage beside the TV. he smiles as his fingers graze the surface of a particular photo-strip; it was from their very first date. he chuckles softly at the obvious awkwardness emitted on his younger face. sungho picks up a push-pin, placing the image on the empty spot it had been in before on the cork-board. he takes a step back, focusing in on each and every picture she had in the collection. his eyes glimmer a little, each photo provoking a different emotion. once again, he falls in love with her.

"su...sungho?"

the familiar voice of his girlfriend steals his attention. the boy turns around at once, meeting eyes with yn. "oh, you're awake!" he says, a smile creeping onto his lips. the girl reciprocates before letting out a yawn. she rubs one eye with the back of her hand, the other one tapping on the spot beside her, inviting him to come over. sungho giggles, but wastes no time in climbing onto the bed.

"what're you doing here-" she cuts herself off with a gasp, "did you clean my room?!" he laughs once more at the shocked expression on her face. "mhm...you were like fifteen minutes late to our date so i got worried and came over here" she gasps again, "oh no...oh, i'm so sorry, sungho! i must've fallen asleep when i got home from work and-" he interrupts her, "shh, don't even worry about it princess" his voice is just above a whisper. he looks deep into her eyes, his hand moving up to caress her cheek. the girl's face gets warm, a red-ish tint painting her complexion at her boyfriend's touch-y antics.

"and..." she begins to speak but stutters a bit, "and my room...you didn't have to clean it all, i was gonna do it tomorrow" he shakes his head, "nonsense..." he leans in to kiss her, their lips colliding ever so sweetly with each other. "...you deserve to rest, princess. i took care of everything for you, okay? so you don't have to stress" sighing, she nods. his hands are still pressed against her cheeks, and their faces so close to each other that their foreheads touched.

"i'm sorry i didn't show up before...that wasn't part of the plan"

they laid down now, his back against the plush bedding and her head on his chest, moving up and down slowly with his every breath, and some netflix show playing on the TV. he shakes his head again, "i told you to stop apologizing, yn..." she laughs, "you know i can't help it sometimes" they didn't speak much after that, just embracing the warmth that came from each of their bodies. his slender fingers danced into her hair, the same way her own ones twirled against his abdomen.

she scoots up suddenly, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. yn places but the lightest pecks against his skin, feeling the goosebumps that formed all over him. she stops to look at him, examining every crease on his face, every crevice, every slight movement. sungho turns his gaze away from the television, face-to-face with her again.

with no words exchanged, the couple melted into each other once more. she had moved to sit on his lap, each of her hands on either side of his broad shoulders. his own gripped onto her waist beneath her shirt- not in any way that was suggestive at all, he just wanted to be in contact with her skin. in fact, this whole moment was wholesome more than anything else.

"sungho" she sighs, catching her breath. "what is it, princess?" he asks, just as breathlessly. "thank you" he smiles, "anything for you..." the boy trails off, carefully flipping the girl over so that she laid below him. sungho holds himself up by an arm, the other one smoothing over her hair and stopping by her chin. yn can't help the butterflies that swarm through her stomach.

they switch positions again, back to the one they had been in before; her head hidden between his shoulder and his jawline, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"i love you" she says all of a sudden, not quite coherently as a yawn took over her voice. the weight of her body against his got heavier, as if she had fully succumbed to his embrace. "i love you more..." he replies, laughing slightly when he turns down to see her fast asleep all over again. park sungho leans in to kiss her once more, even when she wasn't awake, a blush grew onto yn ln's cheeks.

"...my sleeping beauty"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

aaaaaah i loved writing this so much. ily bf sungho TTTTTTTTTT hope u guys enjoyed this. as usual, feedback and reblogs r very appreciated! tysm for reading :3 love, kona.

[starlightazriel]

nerdy school girl x popular boy az au

this is a one shot but it might turn into something more if y'all want it to

warnings: smut, fighting parents, oral f receiving, talk of drug addiction, cherry popping, sophomore x senior, self harm mentioned

masterlist

wc: 4.4k

The bell rang, and here I was. Biology. No one next to me. The only one without a lab partner. I couldn't say that I blamed them. Who would want to sit next to me? And if they did the only reason I could think of was that I would do all of the work for them.

The first day of sophomore year, another step closer to college, to freedom. Though, it wasn't the parties or even finally losing my virginity that interested me. My college appeal was different than my classmates, I simply wanted a quiet place to study away from my parents constant arguments. I was sure they wouldn't last much longer once I was off to college, I imagined that I was the last bit of glue holding them together. I doodled on my notebook while the teacher drawled on about the syllabus and what we would be covering for the semester, and what would be expected of us in the class.

"Azriel, how nice of you to join us, please take a seat, and lets try not to make a habit out of being late this year," the teachers break in his long, rather boring speech caused my head to snap up. A blush crept on my cheeks when my eyes met with the senior boy he was speaking to, and I realized he was heading straight for the only empty seat left. Next to me. I scooted over a bit even though it wasn't necessary and pulled all of my things to my side of the table, I knocked a book off the table, quickly picking it up, my cheeks burned brighter at the distraction. Luckily the teacher didn't comment.

It wasnt like I didn't know who he was everyone knew who Azriel was after the stunt that he had pulled last year at the homecoming football game, he somehow managed to have 'Starview High Football Team Sucks Cock' plastered on every electric billboard in the football stadium.

As a result, the entire football team and cheerleading team and their supporters cast him out socially from their personal groups as one of the burnouts, though somehow he still had all their respect to some degree or maybe they just needed to buy pot from him. I didn't know. much about the extracurricular activities that most of my classmates seemed to participate in, but I had heard from the grape vine that he was suspended toward the end of last year for selling pills and weed out of his locker. He was absolutely gorgeous in the most dangerous kind of way, tall, dark hair, mesmerizing hazel eyes, tattoos, muscular in a way different than the other boys, mysterious scars on his hands and arms, the tattoos snaked over them rather poetically... I held my breath for a moment when he slunk down in his chair. His cologne mixed with the smell of stale cigarettes and weed tickled my nostrils. It wasn't as unpleasant as I would have imagined. I knocked my pen off of the table trying to make even more space for him it rolled under his chair and I silently cursed myself for being so clumsy, he didn't say anything, just picked it up and placed it on my side.

His uniform was wrinkled, sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealing his tattoos, and scars, he didn't wear the same loafers as most of the boys, skate shoes instead, how cliche. I wondered where the scars had come from, most of the school had whispered about cutting but anyone could tell that those scars were from something much more serious than cutting oneself.

Azriel didn't say anything, for the entirety of the class, or even look in my direction, I stole glances when I could. I had a feeling I would be doing most of the work on the joint projects, that I was used to. I didn't mind it either, it was a distraction from the constant chaos that seemed to fill my house. When the bell rang, I got to my feet, gathering all my things. "You any good at biology, butterfingers?" Azriel spoke, rising to his feet. I had to turn my head around once to confirm that he was in fact speaking to me. My face burned at the nickname, I silently cursed myself again for letting my stuff fall earlier.

"Yes," I nod stupidly, my eyes finally meeting his, they were twinkling with amusement which only made me blush more deeply.

"Good, this time I have to pass. Or I won't graduate," and that was it, he just walked away after that, leaving me there watching after him. I quickly snapped out of it, hoping that next time I could say something besides just yes. I had zero experience speaking to boys, not that Azriel was someone I would ever seriously speak to, not that he was someone that would ever even give me so much as a second look if I wasn't his lab partner until December.

-

Azriel didnt show up for class every day, many days he would show up late with some note from the office excusing him. I never asked him any questions, though, I was beginning to get annoyed because some days, we needed a partner and I was stuck playing both sides, the teacher had stupidly praised me saying that I was lucky that I was so smart and could handle both roles considering I got an imaginary lab partner as he had begun referring to Azriel. He had come in late again today, though I was grateful he had at least decided to show up considering the teacher was going to be explaining our first project as we approached the end of the first quarter.

"You know," I say, pushing my safety goggles up a bit on my nose, they kept sliding since my glasses were in the way. "In order to pass a class, you have to show up," I say quietly, his eyes snapped to me, and he studied my face, we never spoke unless it was necessary for the class, so this was new.

"Im here now, aren't I, butterfingers?" he asks, leaning back in his seat, glancing up at the ceiling before looking back at me. My nose wrinkled at the nickname, he never even bothered to learn my real name, probably didn't even care. He must have heard it by now, I raised my hand often in class to answer questions that no one else volunteered for.

"Well yes but-" I was cut off by the teacher who began to explain to us what was required of the lab project we needed to complete. Presentation in front of the class, working on it with our partner outside of school, no big deal just the bane of my very existence. When he was finished explaining and we were cleaning up after our lap, I glanced over at Azriel. "Can we do the project at your house?" I ask, I always went to the other persons house, I didn't have friends over, at least I hadn't in years. Not that I had many friends to invite. over. He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't usually have people from school over," he admitted and shrugged his shoulders, my stomach twisted.

"Okay, we can do it at mine," I said quietly and cursed myself for being such a damn push over. "Uh, when?" I ask, part of me hoped maybe he wouldn't even show up to help, it wouldn't be the first time I did a presentation on my own, and would he really be any help anyway?

"Thursday, after school?" he asks, I nod slowly, gathering my stuff together again. "I'll come at five?"

"Yeah, that works," I shove my notebook into my backpack before quickly scribbling my phone number down on a piece of scrap paper and I hand it to him. "So you can get the address," I clarify, clearing my throat, it felt suddenly hot again.

-

It was about 5:24pm when Azriel finally arrived at her house. He had returned home and changed first, now wore some sweatpants and a tshirt. He hated the uniforms they were required to wear. He was only late because he had walked, it was a pleasant evening and he didn't mind the walk, he did have a car, his past 3 years of high school he had been stacking cash under the floor boards in his room just waiting for the right opportunity to leave his drug addicted father. Dealing drugs and pot to his fellow students had come easily to him, apparently his appearance matched the job.

He stood on her very clean and put together door step with a bag of chips in his hand as he waited for someone to come to the door. It was a complete smoke show who did. Her mother was tall unlike her, wore a tight fitted dress right out of desperate housewives and an apron that was tied tightly around her waist. She looked Azriel up and down as many women did, they couldn't seem to resist their natural instincts, he couldn't blame them, he knew he was attractive. Despite the scars he had from his father's abuse, he knew how good he looked to women. He politely greeted her and couldn't even step inside before butterfingers came running down the stairs, appearing behind her mother, he knew her name, he just preferred butterfingers, and the way it made her blush before him every single time.

"We can work on it in my room," she says quickly and points back to the stairs. Her father glances up from his newspaper, grunts quietly and looks back down at it. As we walked up the stairs Azriel could hear him grumbling something to his wife along the lines of 'are we really going to let that boy up into our daughter's room.' In response Azriel only smirked a little bit as he followed her up the stairs. Her room was very girly, soft, baby pink and white, a tv, a desk, a beanbag, a queen sized bed with a pink quilted duvet and many pillows, a collection of childhood stuffed animals hung from a small netted hammock from the ceiling.

"Nice place you got here, butterfingers," he says as he follows her into her room, plopping himself down on the bed. She blushes, naturally, it seemed like she always did in his presence. "Thank you," she says quietly and sits beside him, her laptop on her lap. That's when he really noticed her, soft beautiful jaw, full lips, big doe eyes hidden behind those thick rimmed glasses... And her body, soft curves, peaked nipples under the tank top that she was wearing, sleep shorts that had ridden up as she sat down, it didn't leave much to his imagination at all. It had been about 45 minutes listening to her ramble on about the subject and the plans for their presentation, Azriel didnt help much, though he tried his best. "Can I ask you something?" he finally says, he didn't get how he hadn't noticed her at school the way the he did here, she lifts her eyes from the computer screen, meeting his and blushing. "Yes?" she asks quietly, her breath seeming to get caught in her throat at his stare.

"Why are you so quiet at school? You're rather brilliant," he says the last part a little more quietly, he wasn't exactly known for dishing out compliments aside from the usual sexy and hot. Here in her room, vulnerable, hair down, cheeks and chest flushed pink she was practically the definition of both of those things, in a more innocent kind of way than most of his female classmates.

"I just..." she looks away again, she couldn't handle his eyes on her the way they were, it caused a burning deep within her, one she only recognized from reading cliche blockbuster books like twilight or fifty shades of grey. "Im shy, I always have been," she mumbled, focusing on the project again, if he wasn't mistaken, her fingers shook just a little bit on the keyboard, she couldn't be this nervous just under his gaze, could she?

"Well you know what they say about the shy ones, don't you?" his voice dropped again at the last two words, he felt like the air between them was becoming thick, a tension he was sure she didnt recognize. Her cheeks burned an even deeper red and she shifted in her seat, she opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it at the sound of her parents arguing downstairs.

"Not even one day can they shut their fucking mouths," she slammed the laptop shut and rose to her feet quickly, tossing it almost carelessly aside on the bed. Azriels brows rose in surprise at her cursing, that was new. He watched her tight little ass as she practically stomped to the other side of her room, slamming her door with intention and she just stood there a moment, he back facing him. She whirled around, their eyes meeting again. "Im- Im sorry about that," she breathed out, stumbling a bit over her words, he could feel the shift in the room. It was like it became so much smaller, the thickness in the air, just the sounds of them breathing, watching each other. She was blushing profusely, fidgeting with the strings of her shorts nervously. "This.. This is why I wanted to do it at your house, we'll just have to ignore them," she averted her gaze, snapping out of the sexual stare they had both been giving each other just a moment ago.

He wanted to ask more questions, ask if it was like this often, if it bothered her. Azriel could sympathize with her, though his toxic home situation was undoubtedly much worse than hers, he knew what it was like to not feel as comfortable as you should somewhere that should be a home. "You've been teaching me this whole time," he knew that he was in control of the situation here, he knew he could change how the night ended, he knew he could leave here with her feeling absolutely blissful, barely even remembering that her parents were downstairs. He didnt know why he wanted to do that for her, she was just a girl, one of the wallflowers that blended in and did everything they possibly could to disappear. "I think maybe, I should teach you something now, could be a good break... A good distraction," his voice had dropped lower, became raspy with desire. It was like a porno scene, the tension, the cliche, he could see the headline in his mind 'bad boy devours virgin school girl cunt.' The thought of the two of them possibly tangled in her sheets within the next half hour made him blush now, he shifted, fixing his pants to hide his growing erection. Her eyes followed his every move, it was like he could hear her heart racing from across the room.

"Okay," her voice was barely a whisper, and her pretty little white teeth slid over her pouty lower lip and she bit down softly. Azriel grinned triumphantly, patting the spot next to him on her bed. She walked slowly over to her bed, swallowing hard, her mind was racing, was this really happening? It felt like one of those books she had read, exciting, dangerous. She sat down beside him just as slowly as she had walked over, her heart raced in her chest as he turned slightly toward her and brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, she shivered at the touch, warmth filling her belly and spreading.

"You might be fooling everyone else," he says gruffly and reaches up with both of his hands slowly pulling off her thickly rimmed glasses, she blinked twice, her eyes adjusting, she could see him easily anything beyond just a few feet in front of her became blurred. "But with me, you can't hide, I see you," he lips his lips hungrily causing her to part hers, she sucked in a small breath, her heart completely pounding in her chest. She hadn't given much thought to how she would lose her virginity, she never thought it would happen before college though, the air in the room, the things that were happening, the way she felt inside... It seemed to be headed in that direction. He leaned over her to place the glasses on her night stand, their breaths mingled, noses almost touching as he did, he used the same hand and slid his fingers over the back of her neck, earning a shiver, before he tilted her head back, pulling her even closer. Then, he kissed her, causing her entire body to melt into a puddle of nothing beneath him.

Her first kiss. Her hands were limp in her lap but soon squeezed into fists as his tongue glided over her lip, begging for an entrance. Alarm bells rang in her head, she didnt know what she was doing, she was going to make herself look like an idiot. She couldn't pull away, it felt way too good. He deepened the kiss, his other hand brushing over her arm before finding her waist, his large hand covering it, thumb pressing lightly into her ribcage, a little moan escaped her lips, she ignored the embarrassment, she couldn't help it. She had only read about this, seen it in movies, never had she imagined that it would feel like this.

Azriel kissed her jaw and up her neck until his lips were just by her ear. "Can I keep going?" his voice is husky and warm, the sound travelled through her bones making her melt even more, she could feel slick wet heat in her underwear. Azriel knew it, he knew what kind of effect he had, he was starting to ache for her. He was aching to show her everything that he could do, aching to watch her let go and forget about everything and just let him take her. But he wouldn't do it until she relaxed, he could feel her nerves radiating off of her.

"Ive never done this before," she breathed out, he slid his fingers up, placing his hand on her chest where he could feel her heart hammering. "I know," he said softly, it wasnt hard to tell, he was sure a boy hadn't ever even entered this room. "But I promise, if you let me... I'll make you feel so good you won't even remember they are here," her breath hitched at his words and she only nodded, quickly, "teach me," she whispers and it was all he needed to hear. Before she knew it Azriel was on his knees in front of her, he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, and sat back on his heels inspecting her for just a moment before he lifted on of her legs slowly kissing the inside of her thigh, all the way down to her ankle he slowly peeled the sock off and pressed a kiss to the sole of her foot, she gasped and fell back onto her elbows looking down at him with shock and arousal. He only smiled, repeating the same on her other leg and foot.

Take your time Az. A voice echoed in his head when he quietly cursed at the sight before him, he had pulled off her sleep shorts revealing cotton panties, completely soaked through. Her cheeks were blazing as she looked down at him with curiosity and lust, her chest rising and falling quickly, nipples poking through the delicate tank top. He couldn't remember the last time he was this turned on, this was more arousing than the time last year he had taken Mrs. Abott in the janitor closet during the school assembly. "Damn you're beautiful," he mumbled, wrapping his fingers around the outside of her thighs and puling her even closer. He pressed his face into the wet cotton fabric, causing her to moan quietly, her back arching into the touch.

"That feels so good," she managed to choke out as he slowly dragged his tongue up and down the wet fabric, licking her through her soaked panties.

"I know," he said back gruffly against her before sucking hard through the fabric causing her to cry out, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it. He chuckled softly before sliding his fingers up and slowly pulling her panties off. "It gets better?" he groaned quietly at the sight of her perfect little pussy, his mouth watering, it was like he could already taste her. She seemed to be at a loss for words as she watched him, lips parted slightly, face flushed with arousal and embarrassment as she was bared to him. He wanted to tell her the last thing she needed to be, with a body like this, was shy, but instead he simply used his thumbs on either side to spread her pussy slightly open and he leaned down pressing a soft kiss to her center. She moaned again, encouraging him farther.

Azriel licked around her whole sex, causing her to whimper and squirm beneath him, her hands gripping her duvet beside her. He kept his hands where they were, keeping her slightly spread in front of him before he dipped his tongue into the pool of wetness and licked all the way to the top, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves there. He could tell she almost came right there and then. "You taste so good, butterfingers," he chuckled quietly against her before dipping his tongue back down, curling it up inside her as his nose pressed to her clit. Her back arched off of the bed again and she pulled at the duvet covers, her breasts popping out of the top of the tank top, he moaned against her at the sight of her pretty pink nipples peaked in the air. He drew his head back again, not taking his eyes off of her, he kept one hand on her inner thigh, thumb still holding her pussy open for him, the other hand slid up her body and he gently rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

She moaned quietly again, all control she had over her body completely gone, her hips bucked and he held her down, completely devouring her, savoring every last drop as she cried out quietly in pleasure and he softly licked her as she rode out her release. His hands slid down, resting on the top of her thighs and he sat back a bit on his heels, admiring her. She was looking down at him with such shock and surprise, lips and cheeks flushed, panting softly, pussy still throbbing.

"If you let me, I'll keep going," he says wincing a little bit as he stands up, the friction of his erection in his pants becoming almost painful. She didnt say anything, she only nodded quickly a small gasp escaping her lips as he pulled his shirt off from the bottom. He was muscular, tattoos everywhere, golden skin, deep v disappearing into his pants. He tugged his pants off, his long thick erection slapping his stomach as he did, her eyes widened, blush deepening. She couldn't believe this was happening, and really neither could he. She was too damn perfect, too damn soft and innocent untainted it almost felt like a crime to take her especially when he knew how young women could get attached after their first time and he had no intentions to continue anything after today, there was also the fact that they would be stuck at the same table once a day until December. He picked her up easily, pushing her farther up onto the bed until her head hit her pillow, and then he was over her.

His breath was hot and heavy, their faces almost touching. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he checks one more time, looking into her eyes, looking for any hesitation there, he saw only nerves and excitement. "Yes," she breaths out not shying away from his eyes this time. Azriel let out a small moan, looking down at her body, her tank top was now bunched underneath her breasts, the straps hanging at the sides. He bent his head down, taking time sucking n each one of her peaked nipples, causing her to arch her back up into his body again, the feeling of their skin together drove him mad.

Azriel reached down between them sliding his tip over her entrance before slowly sliding half of himself inside, he cursed and moaned softly, eyes not leaving her face. "You okay?" he breathes out, forcing himself to still a moment, she nods before he slides the rest of himself into her, filling her all the way up. She gasped, her eyes widening as she looked up at him, he grabbed the headboard, his other hand on the bed beside her. "Feel good?" he asks softly, slowly rocking in and out of her, he would have to hold back, she was so damn tight and wet... It wasn't the first virginity he had taken, but he couldn't help but think that this was the best pussy he had ever had.

"Y-yes," her voice cracks a little, her breaths extremely heavy, chest rising and falling quickly underneath him. "Oh yes," she says again as his pace quickens a bit, he gripped her hips tilting her a bit so he could get that spot and she cried out again, this time he covered her mouth, losing himself a bit too, forgetting where he was. His eyes were dark with lust and focus, his lip pulled between his teeth as he watched her come undone again beneath him. "Fuck," he cursed, pulling himself out just before he came spilling his contents all over her stomach and he collapsed next to her on the bed, breathing heavily, his body glistening with sweat. "Thank you- um for that..." she whispers awkwardly, the magnitude of the situation probably sinking in for her.

"Thank you, for letting me be your first," he grins lazily, his arm tucked behind his head. "Now.... Project?" he asks, her laptop was still on the bed, he was half on it now, amazingly it hadn't fallen on the floor.

"Oh, right," she swallows hard and uses the tank top she had been wearing to clean off her stomach, Azriel simply couldn't take his eyes off of her. He wondered to himself if he would have the self control to keep his hands off at school.

-

update it turned into more than a one shot see master list for additional parts

a/n don't copy my shit lol thank youuu <3 is it weird that I switched to third person half way through? was kind of just messing around with this one but if another part is wanted hmu ill get to it. lmk what y'all think xxxxxxxxxx

[suzannahnatters]

Let Your Knights Weep

One of the big things I've had to train myself out of when writing medieval historical fiction?

The stiff upper lip.

This used to really bewilder my editor, who for some time attempted to nudge me away from having my grown men weep and wail and blubber, but for me it's an essential part of the setting. Whether in grief or fear, medieval people did not hold things back.

Here are some of my favourite quotes to explain.

First, a couple from two great 20th century medievalists:

CS Lewis in his Letters put it this way:

“By the way, don't 'weep inwardly' and get a sore throat. If you must weep, weep: a good honest howl! I suspect we - and especially, my sex - don't cry enough now-a-days. Aeneas and Hector and Beowulf, Roland and Lancelot blubbered like schoolgirls, so why shouldn't we?”

Dorothy Sayers, in her fabulous Introduction to her translation of THE SONG OF ROLAND, speaking of Charlemagne discovering Roland's body on the battlefield:

Here too, I think we must not reckon it weakness in him that he is overcome by grief for Roland’s death, that he faints upon the body and has to be raised up by the barons and supported by them while he utters his lament. There are fashions in sensibility as in everything else. The idea that a strong man should react to great personal and national calamities by a slight compression of the lips and by silently throwing his cigarette into the fireplace is of very recent origin. By the standards of feudal epic, Charlemagne’s behaviour is perfectly correct. Fainting, weeping, and lamenting is what the situation calls for. The assembled knights and barons all decorously follow his example. They punctuate his lament with appropriate responses:

By hundred thousand the French for sorrow sigh; There’s none of them but utters grievous cries.

At the end of the next laisse:

He tears his beard that is so white of hue, Tears from his head his white hair by the roots; And of the French an hundred thousand swoon.

We may take this response as being ritual and poetic; grief, like everything else in the Epic, is displayed on the heroic scale. Though men of the eleventh century did, in fact, display their emotions much more openly than we do, there is no reason to suppose that they made a practice of fainting away in chorus. But the gesture had their approval; that was how they liked to think of people behaving. In every age, art holds up to us the standard pattern of exemplary conduct, and real life does its best to conform. From Charlemagne’s weeping and fainting we can draw no conclusions about his character except that the poet has represented him as a perfect model of the “man of feeling” in the taste of the period.

OK, now let's dig into some quotes that I found just in Christopher Tyerman's Chronicles of the First Crusade and Joinville's Life of St Louis:

Truly you would have grieved and sobbed in pity when the Turks killed any of our men....

As for the knights, they stood about in a great state of gloom, wringing their hands because they were so frightened and miserable, not knowing what to do with themselves and their armour, and offering to sell their shields, valuable breastplates and helmets for threepence or fivepence or any price they could get....

When Guy, who was a very honourable knight, had heard these lies, he and all the others began to weep and to make loud lamentation....

They stayed in the houses cowering, some some for hunger and some for fear of the Turks....

Now at vigils, the time of trust in God’s compassion, many gave up hope and hurriedly lowered themselves with ropes from the wall-tops; and in the city soldiers, returning from the encounter, circulated widely a rumour that mass decapitation of the defenders was in store. To add weight to the terror, they too fled…

In the course of that day’s battle there had been many people, and of fine appearance too, who had come very shamefully flying over the little bridge you know of and had fled away so panic-stricken that all our attempts to make them stay with us had been in vain. I could tell you some of their names, but shall refrain from doing so, because they are now dead.

I could go on looking for quotes in all the other medieval literature I've read, but that would be beyond the scope of this Tumblr post.

In the meantime, this leads me to make some comments on how trauma was perceived.

In Jonathan Riley-Smith's The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading, the author discusses the mental breakdowns suffered by the first crusaders during the second siege of Antioch, which caused many of them to flee at the moment of direst need:

In these stressful circumstances it is not surprising that the crusaders were often very frightened. At times, indeed, they seem to have been almost paralysed by a terror that they themselves could hardly comprehend. … When the crusade was bottled up in Antioch by Kerbogha's relief force it was gripped by such blind panic that there was the prospect of a mass break-out and on the night of 10 or 11 Juney 1098 Bohemond and Adhemar had the gates of the city closed. It is worth noting that many of those whom later chroniclers, writing after the events in comparative comfort in Europe, vilified for cowardice and desertion seem to have been treated more charitably by their fellow-crusaders, who must have understood what pressures they had been under.

--

In conclusion: the way we feel about things today in the English-speaking isn't necessarily the way people felt about things in the past (and this goes for other cultures, real or imagined, too). I'm continually catching myself writing people with stiff upper lips and emotional reservations, and having to remind myself that the culture was different back them. If a grown man wanted to weep, he could. That's a good thing. (Oh, and my medieval historical fantasy? Check out the Watchers of Outremer series on Amazon or wherever books are sold!)

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm slowly becoming obsessed with the childhood friends au and it's mostly bc of something you said in the tags of an ask lol. you mentioned that they weren't soulmates they were something better. that they were two balls of yarn they batted around until they were intertwined, that they chose and continue to choose to be as close as two souls can be.

it's so poetic, the idea that fate has nothing to do with it. they looked at each other and said this is it, that's the one. It makes me think of so many different quotes but here's just a few. Hozier "lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body I'll crawl home to her (him)" or like patroclus saying that if Achilles were to die that "all things soft and beautiful would be buried with him" and poor Danny grieving so long and so hard because "what is grief if not love perserving?" when you're in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe and to lose them is to be thrown to a tempestuous sea.

and thinking of their reunion makes me feel a little crazy too cause I see what you've been plotting and it just makes me think of how their relationship is going to be at first. like here's a person that you love so deeply and it's been so long since you've seen them and you've both changed since. will they click back together seemingly effortlessly? attached at the hip for a bit because they're both/or one is scared of being separated again? or will there be some friction for a while while they try to realign their pieces to fit together, to figure out what's different and what's practically the same? "you are a language I am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read"

sorry for rambling, I love them your honor.

🫵 DONT YOU DARE APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING I LOVE GETTING RAMBLING ASKS. AND SAME.

There was this one sound on tiktok that I heard that reminded me of them, and I just went and found it, and it goes: "I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely in different bodies, different times, and i would love you in all of this. Until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion." and the first time i heard it i literally thought "this is CFAU Danny and Jason"

AND YEAH THEY JUST. I love devoted characters, i love when characters are so deeply devoted and loyal to each other its like you can't imagine them being anywhere else but at each other's side. That wasn't wholly my intent when I first came up with CFAU last fall, but god I am not complaining about how it turned out. My favorite part of the chapter 1 rewrite is making sure Danny's devotion to Jason was reciprocal.

god those quotes. they're so accurate too. yeah. i thought about this au once in the context of a soulmate au, and just couldn't get behind it. It made their whole dynamic felt cheapened, like of course they're soulmates; it was destined. When no, it wasn't. They made it that way.

(If the two of them were somehow transported to a universe with soulmate marks, they would not have matching symbols. That's okay, Danny and Jason don't need them to be. They'd pick up a tattoo gun or a pen and make their own. They wouldn't call it a soulmate mark, just a them mark.)

("Why should I share my soul with some schmuck I don't know? I want to share my soul with you.")

yeah. their reunion is. ! about as exactly as intense as it needs to be :]. They've both changed so much, and they're both scared of being separated again. Jason purposely stayed away from Amity because he knew he couldn't keep away if he didn't. Being back together again is like having a piece of them returned.

SPEAKING OF QUOTES. Here's one:

I don't believe in the death that you're bringing The reason I'm living is you Wherever you go That's where I'll be Even if death tags along, I don't mind It's still you and me I'll never leave you alone

"Death's At My Door" - The Outsiders Musical

[sahisan]

★ summary: kuronushi x fem!reader. shibari with kuronushi. 300 followers special.

☆ cw: nsfw. shibari. praise (poetic praise exactly (or smth like that (i tried))). nushi is nice once again. use of 'slut' twice. use of petnames (songbird, darling). creampie. 1133 words.

☾ a/n: this is 300 followers special fic! thank you all so much for this number, ily all.⁠·⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠(⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠·⁠. also REBLOG PLS IM SHADOWBANNED༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

a shaky exhale leaves your mouth as you watch kuronushi's hands - fingers firstly - tie the red ropes of shibari along your body. he glides them along your porcelain skin, cupping both of your bare breasts with the rope, making a perfect knot exactly in between your tits, then heading lower.

the only sounds are your occasional breaths and rustling of the bedsheets, or the sound of him tightening the knots all over you.

he hears how your breath hitches as his lips fleetingly hover over the skin on one of your breasts, and he grins, basically feeling the heat radiating from your figure. you gulp as kuronushi finishes with the ropes on your chest, his face now inches away from your own, and he begins to wrap the red ropes around your neck. you struggle to stay still, but since his thigh is right under your bare sopping cunt, you can't help the urge to grind slightly on it, desperate in getting any sort of friction since he's been on wrapping you in the silk ropes for what felt like ages for you.

one of nushi's hands stops you abruptly, holding your hip tightly enough to interrupt your little doings. "be still so i can drink you in with my eyes." he says into your ear sensually, voice a quiet whisper that sends shivers down your spine. you pout slightly, but stop your movements and try to stay still. he laughs quietly. "what a perfect pout you have."

after a few long moments, you decide to speak up quietly, voice a tad bit raspy. "are you done yet, nushi?.."

"just a bit more, my songbird. a few more knots and..." he replies, coming to tie another unit on your already tied hands to fixate them to the rope that goes from your neck. "there, all done."

you sigh in relief - but it's not really relief when your body is bound by all these red ropes. kuronushi made sure they're not too tight and not too loose.

you feel his hot breath right on your lips, his eyes staring into yours with a grin as the pads of his fingers trace lines on the skin on your back, and you let out a shaky exhale. his gaze moves to your mouth - your lips, exactly.

"your lips remind me of sakura petals. so soft and perfect for kissing." he murmurs, as he leans in to kiss you, pushing you back onto the mattress to finally pin you to the bed.

nushi's poetic phrases never fail to make you blush.

—

you whine when, in-between his slow and deliberate thrusts, kuronushi buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin there as he murmurs the best praise you could've ever heard in your life; that same praise mixed with the poetic phrases from his haiku.

"you're such a treasure..." he whispers, a soft whimper leaving his mouth as the tip of his cock presses onto your cervix, making you moan a loud "nushi-i!.." when breathing out. "so irresistible when i have all the control like this."

his hand glides under your waist, letting his fingers brush against the red ropes that hold your wrists together - his hand creeping lower to hold your lower back with his palm. you arch your back at his touch, making it easier for him to thrust a tad bit faster as he continues to make your skin blend in with the color of the ropes.

"your body- hhah- is a work of art... that i can't stop admiring." he whispers, letting our a small, shaky exhale as he feels the walls of your cunt clenching around his length.

"n-nushi- don't stop.." you mutter, quiet whimpers leaving your lips each time he thrusts his hips forward, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

you wish you could hold him by his shoulders, bring his torso closer and closer until there's no air between your bodies, leave marks from your nails on his back all over, tug on his hair as you sloppily kiss his lips again and again, tongues intertwining together-

-but you're tied. by the damn shibari ropes that you're hopelessly tugging on with your hands and wrists, trying to get closer to him - but no avail.

"someone's trying to escape, huh?" kuronushi whispers, lips now biting on the shell of your ear as he watches you bite your lower lip.

" 'm not- just- ah!.." you moan out loud as he proceeds to thrust into you a bit more roughly now, picking up the pace. you silence yourself by slightly gritting your teeth and biting your lip yet again.

"tsk, no, my darling, keep that pretty mouth opened for me. i want to hear each and every of those lovely sounds of yours." kuronushi chuckles, his thumb coming to rest on your lower lip, sticking it out from the hold of your teeth.

he watches as you comply, and grins. "what a polite slut. you listen so well." he praises, voice getting a dark undertone as his hips continue to keep their rhythm. "what, are you going to cum, sweetheart?" he laughs, a tad bit mockingly, bringing his other thumb to your clit, massaging it to help you with your orgasm. your lips can't keep sealed anymore as you let out little whimpers and whines that start getting more and more uneven when you feel that the tight knot in the pit of your stomach is about to explode.

"nushi, nghh- yes, yes, gonna cum.. please, don't stop..." you mutter, eyelids closing as your body starts to writhe in the hold of the red ropes to get more of his touch.

"go on..." kuronushi taunts, his breathing a bit more erratic as he chases his own release too, thrusts getting more and more impatient at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. "cum on my cock like a good slut."

and that is when that knot inside you explodes. with a loud "nushi!" you tighten and clench around his length, cumming, writhing with your tied body, the shibari ropes adding more to all the friction along your skin. you hear his breath hitching as he feels you bucking you hips into his for a few more moments to ride out the aftermath of your release. a second after that, you sense kuronushi's seed spilling deep inside you, as he cums with a shaky, long whimper, burying his face in your neck as he bites the flesh there, making you squirm under him even more.

"oh... you're exquisite, my songbird." he whispers, breathing heavily in and out. "just as exquisite as the last rays of sun in sunset."

kuronushi will definitely write a new poem once you're both done, but now...

"one more, pretty please?"

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hello, I'm the one who requested the Freminent and accidentally forgotten Zhongli with a S/o who has cute aggression towards them. If there is no issue could you also do the same for Zhongli, it's okay if not btw. (Also I loved the original with just Fremi)

hi hi! i'm glad to see you came back :D sorry for the wait, i usually end up writing late at night so i apologize for missing him the first time, here he is now though! i hope you enjoy :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behavior, mentions of starting forest fires, mentions of destroying cities, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Zhongli has seen a lot in his many, many years but this was… well this behavior was rather new to him. He had heard often the great lengths one would go to show their love and devotion to him back when he was still the Geo Archon, but to have his darling say they’d set all of Sumeru on fire was startling.

It isn’t to say he doesn’t like it, he’s quite flattered by it all, but you can expect constant reassurance from him that you aren’t actually going to do this. You- you wouldn’t actually start a forest fire, would you? Zhongli needs that little reminder every so often that you aren’t actually plotting such things, just using them as examples for expressing your intense feelings towards him.

Wanting to share in this cute behavior of yours, Zhongli starts vocalizing his love and affection for you as well. Instead of mimicking your cute aggression though, he uses historical quotes and references. You don’t always get them, but the delighted smile on his face whenever he says them to you, following your cute aggression comments is enough to have you falling in love with them anyways.

“I love you so much I could knock down all of Liyue with my bare hands.” Zhongli smiles at your comment, an adoring look on his face as his hands come up to gently cup yours. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, a shimmer of love in his eyes as he stares at you.

“Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service.” Zhongli’s words are smooth, falling from his lips in the same poetic manner they were written and memorized. Loving you comes easy to him, something that seems ingrained in his being as much as breathing has become. You make him feel human, make him feel like he can be soft and tender like one. Around you, Zhongli feels like he can love.

A lot of times his quotes sorta go over your head and that’s ok, he’s happy to repeat them as many times as you need or to sit down and explain what they mean to you. It just gives him a reason to spend even more time with you, something of which he adores.

If you ever showed deeper interest in any of his expressions of love, do know he would be more than happy to share whatever literature he found them in. Going through old books, reading and acting out long-forgotten plays, what was once a key token of history that now sits dusty on the shelves, he adores doing it all with you. Zhongli is such a hopeless romantic when it comes to you, he just adores you so much and cannot stand to ever be apart from you for long.

[slut4thebroken]

That Night.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x Wayne!reader

Summary | Jason missed yet another date, but this time it was your breaking point.

Warnings | angsttt, emotional neglect?, break ups, Jay is just a lil stupid but we love him, fluff, comfort, Dick is the older brother I wish I had smh

Words | 3k

Notes | Not saying I wrote this because of a personal thing I’ve been going through with a friend… but I wrote this because of a personal thing I’ve been going through with a friend.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You sighed and dropped your purse onto the couch, then flopped down beside it. This was the third date night he’s missed in a row. What makes it infinitely worse is that this was your anniversary dinner. 

A year. An entire year you’ve been understanding, supportive… but all that’s done is make him realize that you’ll tolerate that behavior. So it got worse and worse. It started with showing up late to things, or having to cancel but getting you flowers and promising to make it up to you. Now though, half the time he doesn’t even remember that he forgot. 

With a heavy breath, you bent down to unclasp your heels and toss them to the side. You felt stupid. The original plan was to meet there, rather than both of you leaving together, since he needed to do something beforehand. That should’ve been your first warning. But you still had faith he'd show up. In fact, you had faith for about 45 minutes before paying for your wine and leaving, getting looks of pity from staff and customers alike on your way out. 

He also hasn’t planned anything for the past couple of months. It was always you. Honestly, part of you thought he’d forget he even had a girlfriend if it weren’t for you trying to plan dates or dinners or just spending time together. But on the off chance that he could actually show up, he usually had to leave early. 

You’ve been trying so hard to make this work, but you’re getting tired. You missed the boyfriend you had a year ago— the one who made you a priority, who took you on a date at least once a week. And you know that if it were earlier in the relationship, you would’ve left by now. But you love him more than anything so you tried to fight and make it work. But it was only you trying, so it was doomed from the start. 

Breaking up on our anniversary would be pretty poetic, you reasoned, trying to make the terrifying thought a little less scary. You got up to get another glass of wine, then sat back down on the couch, thinking. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before the front door was opening and closing quietly, but your glass was long empty by now and if you weren’t so anxious, you would’ve fallen asleep. 

“What are you still doing up?” He asked, looking at you in surprise since you’re usually in bed when he gets home.  

“I need to talk to you.” You said quietly, clearing your throat and adjusting your position on the couch. 

“Okay… That sounds awfully ominous.” He chuckled nervously, taking a seat next to you. “Why are you so dressed up?” Any doubts you might’ve had instantly disappeared because of that one innocent question. You swallowed thickly and looked at your lap, trying to wait until after you at least said it to start crying. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” You did your best to speak clearly, even as your voice started trembling. 

“What?” You’ve never heard him sound so caught off guard. 

“I- I’m breaking up with you.” You forced out, taking a deep breath. But the worst of it wasn't done yet. 

“Baby,” He reached for your hands but you gently pulled them away.  

“Please don’t make this harder for me, Jason.” Not Jay. Just Jason. 

“I don’t understand.” He said quietly, hands going back to his own lap. “Can you please look at me?” You bit your lip and took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself to see his face so that you wouldn’t change your mind. When you looked up, his brows were furrowed as he examined you. 

“Can you at least tell me why?” A tear escaped your waterline when you heard the way his voice quavered. 

“Seriously?” You scoffed in disbelief. “Why do you think?”  

“I don’t know! I-“ He cut himself off when his gaze focused on your dress and then on your heels near your feet. “Fuck- oh fuck. Baby, I- I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It’s just repetition compulsion.” You offered a rueful shrug. “Dating a vigilante with no time for a personal life was my own fault, I should’ve realized it would’ve been the same as being Batman’s daughter.” 

“No- no, princess, please. Just- let me make it up to you. Please.”

“Jay, please don’t.” You whispered. 

“Baby, c’mon, please let me try.” 

“Do you even remember why we were going on a date tonight?” You snapped, eyes filling with more and more tears the longer he remained silent. “It was our anniversary.” You said quietly, brushing away the tears falling down your cheeks. “I’ve put up with this for almost a year because I loved you and I wanted this to work so badly, but I can’t do it anymore.” You all but whimpered, averting your gaze. 

“Loved?” He said through a breath, making you sigh. “You don’t love me anymore?” 

“I— I don’t know…” You do still love him. But admitting that would make it harder to walk away. 

“Oh.” You chanced a glance at him and watched the way he rapidly wiped the tears from his cheeks, trying to keep his composure. “And there’s nothing I can do to fix this?” He croaked, not able to look at you.

“You’re not going to give up the mask anytime soon, so no, Jason.” You said quietly. 

He was the one who left that night, saying he was going to stay at Roy’s to give you space. He didn’t come home the next day either though. You spent the entirety of that time either crying or sleeping. The amount of messages on your phone— that made your heart break just a little bit more every time you realized it wasn’t from Jason— was getting overwhelming so you turned it off, just wanting to be sad in peace. But that peace was interrupted on the second day after that night. 

You groaned at the knock on your door and continued laying on the couch, hoping they’d leave. But they knocked again, more urgently this time. Letting out a heavy sigh you forced yourself to get up and open the door. 

Dick’s expression went from irritation to confusion to complete pity in a matter of seconds. 

“Can I come in?” He asked and you just shrugged in response, then walked back to the couch, letting him close the door. “I was going to ask if something happened with Jason but based on your general appearance and the state of your apartment, I’m guessing the answer is yes.” 

“What do you want, Grayson?” You sighed, watching him sit down next to you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly. 

“We broke up. Is that what you want to hear?” You snapped, looking away from him as you bit the inside of your cheek. 

“That makes sense actually. Are you okay?” 

“What do you mean that makes sense?” You asked, looking back at him with furrowed brows. 

“…Red Hood,” He almost seemed hesitant to say his name, “has been significantly more… violent, the past two days. Bruce and I thought something might’ve happened. We didn’t think it’d be this though.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“Of course he is.” You spat bitterly. It always used to hurt knowing how much harder he fights for his reputation and the people for Gotham, than for you. You felt like the other woman most of the time. “Will you let my dad know I’m probably going to stay at the manor for a couple weeks until I can get a new apartment?” At least he wouldn’t ask as many questions as Dick. You weren’t looking forward to Alfred’s unwanted, but very accurate, input and guidance on the situation though. 

“Sure… So it’s really done then?” He asked tentatively, testing the waters. 

“I’ve put up with this kind of behavior enough from my dad. But at least he never forgot any important dates. So yes, it’s really done.” He was silent for a moment, probably trying to piece together what date Jason forgot. 

“Anniversary?” 

“A year.” You confirmed, almost apathetically. 

“Jesus.” 

“Yep. I’m the one who planned the dinner and made the reservation, which he forgot about. He also didn’t get a gift, like we both decided we’d do.” 

“I’m sorry, kid.” He frowned, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s fine. It’s been like this for a while. That night was just the final straw for me.” You shrugged, trying not to give into your emotions. His hand remained on your shoulder and you bit your lip as it started trembling. 

Why does this have to hurt so fucking bad? Maybe you should just get back together because at least that pain was better than this. This pain made you want to cut your heart out of your chest to get a break from the constant ache you were feeling. 

You let out a choked sob and Dick pulled you into him, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cried. You clutched onto his shirt and tried to calm yourself down, to focus on his warmth and the way he was lightly rubbing your back. But it all reminded you of Jason. The way that he used to hold you when he was actually home for longer than ten hours a day. 

“Is it me?” You whimpered, trying to take a deep breath, but having it waver as you let out another sob. 

“What?” 

“Am I— am I just not as important as the rest of Gotham?” You choked out, making him pull back to look at you. 

“Hey, don’t say that. Bruce never really got the hang of the family-vigilante balance. Even right now with Tim he’s still struggling. And as for Jason…” He reached up to lightly brush the tears from your face as he frowned. “It’s a learned behavior. Trust me, I only unlearned it after Kory threatened to fly me into space because of it.” You let out a quiet chuckle, the feeling of humor feeling weird mixed with the heartbreak you’ve become accustomed to. “And even then, I still struggle with it. My point is, he loves you so much. I’m sure if you threaten to fly him into space he’d try to fix it.” 

“I don’t know… I’ve been trying so hard for months, Dick, and I’m so tired… I just can’t.” 

“You’re not the one who needs to try.” Right. You didn’t think about that. Would it really be worth it though? Old habits die hard after all. “Look, you don’t have to take my advice, but I’d give him another chance. The second he starts slipping back into his old ways though, it’s done. But at least let him try to fix it. You might be surprised.” You let out a heavy sigh and looked down, playing with a loose thread on the sleeve of your hoodie. 

“You’re probably right. I’m just scared, Dick.” You said quietly. 

“I’ll make you a deal. If I’m wrong and he fucks it up again, I’ll take your place at any charity galas or events Bruce hosts for a year.”  

“A year?” You asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“A year.” He nodded. 

“You know that’s like at least five right?” You smiled. 

“That’s how confident I am.” 

“Fine. But only because I want to get out of all those events.” You both knew that you were hoping for the opposite outcome though. You wanted him to try— to be better. You wanted to be important enough for him to want to change. 

Pls come home when you can.

Causal enough. But your heart was fucking racing. 

You cleaned up around the apartment, then took a shower and changed into some clean clothes before texting him. Part of you was absolutely terrified. What if he doesn’t even want to try? What if you make a fool out of yourself? The only pro would be getting out of going to events for a whole year, which was enough for you to just send the text anyway. 

You were sitting on the couch when the front door quietly opened, the scene feeling eerily similar to that night. The door closed softly and his footsteps were even softer. He stood in the living room, hands in his pants pockets, and you studied him, frowning at the darkness of his under eyes. 

“Do you want to sit?” You asked, when he just stood there. He nodded and tentatively moved to sit on the couch as far away from you as possible. 

“I’m not sure where this is going so I don’t exactly know what I should say…” He admitted sheepishly. 

“I don’t want to stay broken up.” 

“You don’t?” He asked with wide eyes. 

“No. But if we get back together, things need to change. I’ve felt second to Gotham my entire life, I don’t need that in a relationship too. I’m not asking you to give it up completely, but I’m tired of being the second priority.” 

“I’ll give it up.” He said suddenly. “If you want me to, I will… I just need you. Without you, I need the mask and I don’t want to be that way. I like who I am with you— you make me better.” 

“You don’t need to do that, Jay.” You said softly, trying not to let the butterflies in your stomach consume you. 

“Maybe not, but I would.” He moved closed, then hesitantly reached for your hands, waiting for you to pull them back again, but you never did. “With you, I’m not the angry little kid using this to escape my emotions or the angry, traumatized zombie hell bent on revenge. I’m just Jason— just Jay.” 

“Did Roy help you rehearse that?” You chuckled, trying to bring the attention away from your blushing cheeks and flustered demeanor. 

“He called me crazy when I practiced it— made a bet that I wouldn’t be able to last a week without it.” He laughed quietly with you, then brought your hand up to softly kiss your knuckles. “But these two days were the worst pain I’ve ever felt— I’d honestly take a crowbar over this any day.” 

“Oh my god- don’t say that.” You giggled, lightly slapping his arm, your blush intensifying. 

“It’s true though. Every word. You want to settle down, get a nice little house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, maybe a dog and some kids? I’m game. I just need to be with you.” 

“Woah there, cowboy. You need to propose before you start talking to me about being a suburban family with a dog.” 

“Is that your way of saying that if I proposed, you’d say yes?” He teased, but you could tell he was trying to play it off and not seem like he was genuinely asking. 

“Probably, to be honest.” You shrugged, nonchalant. The answer was yes though. If he proposed, you’d say yes before he could even finish asking. 

“Good to know. I’m not getting your father’s blessing though. I’d say it’s out of respect for you as an autonomous woman in the 21st century, but it’s more just out of spite.” 

“I figured.” You chuckled. “But seriously, Jason, I’m not asking you to give that up. If we do decide to settle down and have kids, that’s a different story— there’s not a chance in hell I’m continuing the cycle of an emotionally and physically absent father, so you better be ready to drop it all in a heartbeat.” 

“What about… guys night once a month where Roy and I get together and beat the shit out of some bad guys for old times sake?” You narrowed your eyes at him, but couldn’t hide your smile. 

“You drive a hard bargain… but fine. Guys night once a month and that’s it.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He grabbed you and effortlessly placed you onto his lap. “I love you.” He murmured, placing a soft kiss on your neck to hide his blushing face. “More than anything. And I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” You said quietly, wrapping your hands around him and placing one on the back of his head to play with his hair. 

“It’s not okay though.” He said, pulling back. “Part of the reason I love being with you is because you never put up with any of my shit. You always used to call me out, never let me walk all over you.” He reached up and lightly pushed your hair behind your ear. “So I- I didn’t realize that anything was wrong— I’m not trying to make excuses and it shouldn’t be your burden alone to tell me to get my act together, but every once in a while, if you’re noticing a pattern you don’t like, please don’t just put up with it.” He cupped your cheek as his eyes bored into yours in an almost hypnotizing way.

“I love you so much and I’d do anything for you. You deserve so much more than being someone’s second priority and I’m sorry that I haven’t acted like it.” You gave him a small smile, trying not to get nervous and distant because of the affection— another thing you have your dad to thank for. 

“I love you too.” You said quietly. “Thank you for the apology, I appreciate it.” The corners of his lips turned up and he leaned forward to give you a quick kiss. And to think, only yesterday you were content to wallow in self pity and sadness, accepting the fact that you tried as hard as you could, but somethings just aren’t meant to be. 

“Dick was right.” You suddenly realized, making his expression turn into one of confusion. “God- he’s going to hold this over my head for the rest of my life.” You groaned, leaning forward so your head was in the crook of his neck. 

“What was Dick right about?” He asked, trying to sound amused, but the confusion was clear in his tone. 

“That you’d change and just need me to threaten to fly you into space to remind you to keep your act together.” He snorted a laugh, but you could tell he was still very confused. 

“Yeah that sounds like Dick. I can’t say I’m too upset about it though, since he got you to change your mind.” 

“Don’t ever tell him that.” You warned. “His ego does not need to get any bigger.” 

“Trust me, princess. That’s the last thing I want.” The chuckled, placing his hands on your hips. 

me 🤝 not knowing how to end one shots

[hannamoon143]

Tired- beabadoobee

Han jisung with "Tired" from beabadoobee, for the fall series

Genre: Angst

Warnings: su?cide, depression, unhealthy eating habits, crying

Word count: 766 w

a/n: We r starting into the fall series with this angsty drabble, inspired by „Tired“ by beabadoobee. Hope yall like it. Soon other members will follow, with more angst and also  some good fluff ^^pls give me some songs tho, I need some more🙏🏻 (just write into my inbox) Have a cozy fall, now take your fluffy blanket, a hot cocoa, and read<33

It was freezing. The cold autumns breeze was seeping into your bones. The rooftop was empty. It felt like there was only you, your thoughts and the clear night sky in this world. Well that was until you heard the door creak open behind you. You didn’t have to turn around, there was only one person that would be searching you up here. You heared han’s quick footsteps approaching and then he grabs you by the shoulder, pulling you back a bit so you turn around to him. He looks at you, his breath coming out in little white clouds. „Why are you up here again y/n?“ His voice was quivering, both of you knowing the answer. You just looked at the citylights around you again.

„You could have called me y/n. I told you before that you can call, text or even facetime me when you can’t sleep.“ He spoke, his voice urgent. He made a little pause, probably expecting you to say something. „Is it the sound of your own thoughts keeping you up again?“

You stared at the stars and the moon, so beautiful, so perfect, but so far away you couldn’t reach them. You let out a little hoarse chuckle, at wich han looks at you a bit irritated. You know he hates when you are sarcastical. But this time, your words aren’t. No, you don’t have the energy for your snarky comments.

„Maybe it’s time to say goodbye Hannie.“ You still didn’t look at him, your voice was calm and your gaze in a small smile, looking somewhere far away from here.

Han let’s out a shaky breath and stares at you. „Y/n, stop saying shit like this and let’s go home okay? You can come to my apartment and you can sleep in the one sweater from me you love so much, and we can cuddle alright? I’ll let you sleep in my bed, and we can listen to my records that you always want to listen to.“ He desperately spoke, gripping your arm. He didn’t want to hear your words, no he just couldn’t believe you were serious.

You remained quiet, gaze just calmly elsewhere. It frustrated han. It frustrated him you were like this, that you wouldn’t let him help you. „Come on y/n! Don’t be like that. Don’t speak in this calm voice with this neutral face, when we both know you want to cry, to scream, to punch something. Don’t bottle it up y/n. Please, please talk to me!“ His voice grew loud and desperate. He was scared. Scared because this wasn’t you. He felt like you were fading slowly somewhere else, and it scared him so fucking much. He didn’t notice the tears running down his cheeks. He wished it was you who cried. But you were just looking all neutral, like your mind was in a deep, numb slumber.

He didn’t think and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his tears dropping onto your sweater. He wanted to actually drag you into his apartment and just make you understand what you were doing to yourself, and that he wanted to help you more than anything else, when he felt your slim figure in his arms. This wasn’t you. This was a girl, only skin and bones, with seemingly no emotions. He buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck, and whispered: „Were you even eating at all…“ More to himself than to you. You kept being quiet.  Wouldn’t it be poetic if the last thing you saw on this world were the moon with it’s beautiful little stars around it?  

„I’m just getting pretty fucking tired.“ You said. Your voice was clear, yet so far away. Han was sobbing now, his arms remaining around you, mumbling things to try and comfort you, or maybe even himself. You heard a few words and sentences between his sobs. „No that’s not true. I love you, please i can help you, please let me i-… This is not you, you just need some rest and….and…“ You smiled at the moon. You were realeasing his trembling arms, and before he could react you stepped closer to the edge. He wasn’t able to stop you anymore. And oh, how poetic, that the last thing he saw of you, was a smile, pretty but tired like the moon. And you, you saw the moon, and it’s stars, before you gently closed your eyes. „Bye my love.“ You whispered, before the cold ground hit you.

taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys @onementally-unstabel-kid

[horoscope1078]

Pau sat in the corner of the locker room. His head hanging low as he fidgeted with his phone. His teammates Hector and Lamine were chatting animatedly nearby but Pau wasn’t really listening. His mind was somewhere else, specifically, on you. He had been crushing on you for months now but he just couldn’t work up the courage to tell you how he felt. Every time he thought about confessing his nerves got the best of him and he chickened out.

He let out a heavy sigh, catching Hector’s attention.

“Yo Pau, what’s up with you?” Hector asked tossing his towel over his shoulder as he walked over to him. “You’ve been quiet since training ended.”

Lamine who had been joking around with Hector moments ago joined them. “Yes man. You look like you’ve got something on your mind. Everything alright?”

Pau looked up at his friends, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “It’s this girl…”

Hector and Lamine exchanged a knowing look. “Ah... the girl. We’ve heard about her before” Lamine teased raising an eyebrow. “Still haven’t told her, have you?”

Pau shook his head feeling his face heat up. “No. Every time I get close.. I just.. I don’t know.. I freeze up. I want to tell her but I don’t know how to do it without making a fool of myself.”

Hector leaned against the lockers, crossing his arms with a grin. “Man.. you’re overthinking it. Just be confident and go for it. Girls love confidence.”

Lamine, however seemed to be more excited about giving Pau some advice. He rubbed his hands together, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Alright alright.. listen up. I’ve got the perfect plan for you. It’s simple. Write her a love letter.”

Pau blinked confused. “A love letter?”

“Yes man!” Lamine said nodding eagerly. “It’s old-school, romantic. Girls love that kind of stuff. You write something like ‘Dear crush, you light up my world like the stadium lights on game day. Every time I see you, my heart does a bicycle kick.’ ”

Hector snorted shaking his head. “A bicycle kick, really?”

Pau couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I’m not sure that’s the right vibe Lamine.”

Lamine crossed his arms looking proud of himself. “Hey.. I’m just saying, it’s poetic. It’ll make her swoon.”

Hector rolled his eyes as stepping in with his own idea. “Forget the love letter. You need to do something bold, something that’ll get her attention for sure.” he thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Got it! Challenge her to a penalty shootout.”

Pau stared at Hector, half-amused and half-confused. “A penalty shootout? Seriously?”

“Yes! Hear me out” Hector said clearly excited by his own idea. “You invite her to the field, you both take turns shooting penalties and if she wins, you tell her your secret, you’ve been in love with her all along. If you win, same thing. Either way, you’ve got to confess. It’s a win-win!”

Pau rubbed his face with his hands, laughing but also groaning. “Guys.. I don’t think I can confess my feelings through a football match.”

“Why not?” Lamine piped up. “Football’s your thing Pau! It’s how you communicate with the world.”

Hector nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Make it fun. Girls love a guy who can make them laugh and doesn’t take himself too seriously.”

Pau chuckled, feeling a little better despite their ridiculous ideas. “Ok.. but what if she’s not into football? What if she doesn’t want to kick penalties against me?”

Lamine waved him off. “Then we move to plan b. Serenade her.”

Hector’s eyebrows shot up. “Serenade her? With what Lamine? You’re not gonna tell Pau to sing, are you?”

Lamine grinned unbothered by the scepticism. “Why not? I bet Pau has a decent voice. All he needs is a guitar and a few romantic lines. Something like ‘Girl, you dribble through my heart like Messi in his prime.’ ”

Hector burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re killing me man. Messi in his prime? Pau, please don’t do that.”

Pau leaned back, laughing so hard his sides hurt. “Yes.. I think I’ll pass on the serenading idea.”

Lamine pouted though there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Fine fine. No singing. But seriously man, you’ve got to do something. The longer you wait the more you’re going to psych yourself out.”

Hector nodded clapping Pau on the shoulder. “Yes bro. Just be yourself. Talk to her like you always do but maybe.. y’know.. throw in a compliment or two. Tell her how you really feel but don’t overthink it.”

Pau sighed feeling grateful for his friends even if their ideas were totally out there. “You guys are ridiculous but thanks. I think I just need to figure out the right moment and go for it.”

Lamine leaned in with a grin. “And when you do, remember.. ‘bicycle kick of the heart.’ ”

Pau shook his head laughing again. “I’ll keep that in mind, Lamine. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

With his friends by his side, Pau felt a little more confident even if he wasn’t ready to challenge you to a penalty shootout or sing about dribbling hearts just yet.

[loves0phelia]

Hello

I have this writing where we read the pov of Matt and it is sort a love letter to Y/n. We read about his thoughts about her, how much he loves her and it is very poetic and lovely perhaps even a bit sad. Let me know your thoughts 😊

Letter

Summery: The request but sad ++ (oops)

Words: 809 (it's small sorry)

Warnings: spelling mistakes, and it kind of doesn't make sense in some parts

A/N: listen to LOML by Taylor Swift while reading and thank you for the request xxx

“I’ve always heard that love is blind. I used to think I understood what that meant, that I could grasp the irony of it all, given my circumstances. But then you came into my life, and suddenly, the phrase took on a new meaning—one I never expected.

It's in the way you move through my world, unaware of the light you carry in my fire-filled sight. I can’t see it, but I feel your warmth in the air when you’re near. Your presence makes me feel something I've never experienced.

You make me wish I could see, not to take in the world around me, but to truly see you—the way you smile when you think no one’s watching, the exact colour of your eyes when they light up and the way you look at me. I wish more than anything to be able to feel your love through a simple glance.

I spend so much time running through shadows, but with you, it’s different. With you, I don’t fear the darkness; I embrace it because it brings me closer to you. Your body against mine, your laughter and simply you being you pulls me to you and I can't help it. If I could, I would stay with you forever.

Sometimes, it feels wrong to be so attached to you when I promised to give my full attention to making this city a better place. Because I know that if you asked me too I would drop everything to be where you are. Even if it meant abandoning what I've built and cherished. You are worth more than anything.  You’ve intertwined yourself into my soul.  I am not me without you.

Every time I close my eyes, it’s your face I see, your voice I hear, your touch I crave. You are my calm in the chaos, the one thing that makes all the noise in my head fade into silence.

But a heartache comes with loving you, an ache that I can’t ignore. It’s the knowledge that I’ll never fully deserve you, that the darkness I carry will always be a shadow over your love. I wish I could promise you a life without fear.  But all I can offer is my heart—battered, bruised, but still beating for you through any ups and lows

You are the light in my darkness, the reason I keep fighting, even when it feels like there’s no fight left in me. And even though I know I’ll never be the man you deserve, I will love you with everything I have, for as long as I can.

Yours, always, Matt”

The small paper containing Matt’s braille written note, crumbled in his fist as he stopped speaking. His voice echoed in the large church and the only other sound that could be heard were the sniffles and cries of your loved ones. Foggy, Karen, and your family. 

His fingers tightened around the folded piece of paper in his hand once again.

As he reached the casket, he paused, his breath catching in his throat. The reality of it all hit him with a force he wasn’t prepared for. You were gone. No amount of whispered promises or desperate prayers would bring you back. 

With trembling hands, he unfolded the letter, the words written across the paper now seeming so small compared to his grief. He had poured his heart into those lines, trying to capture the love, the regret, the sorrow that consumed him. But now, standing there, he felt as though nothing he could say would ever be enough.

Gently, he placed the letter on top of the casket, his fingers lingering for a moment as if he could somehow reach you through the wood and metal as if you could feel his touch one last time.

“I love you.”

Kneeling beside the casket, Matt rested his forehead against it, his hands clutching the sides as if it were the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so, so sorry…”

The church seemed to close in around him, the walls pressing down as if they were trying to suffocate the life out of him.

Matt stayed there, his heart breaking until the silence of the church was too much to bear. With a final, trembling breath, he stood, his fingers brushing over the letter one last time before he forced himself to turn away.

He knew that he would never truly leave you behind, that you would haunt him in the quiet moments when he was alone, and that your memory would be both a comfort and a curse. But for now, all he could do was walk away, leaving behind the only woman who had ever truly seen him—the woman he would love until his last breath.

[sundrop-writes]

if Draco walked in on you changing...

Word Count: 1360

Harry Potter Masterlist

Warnings: I have no clue when this could fit onto the general Harry Potter timeline (and tbh I don't think it does); this features the 'arranged marriage' trope; the reader is a rich pureblood (but there is no indication that the reader looks down on muggleborns the way that the Malfoys do); there is no mention of which pureblood family the reader is from, so there is no indication of her race; the reader is mentioned to be afab/has breasts and wears dresses; mentions of house elves/use of house elf labor; Draco is very cocky and entitled in this; there is some dubious consent because Draco looks at the reader while she is undressed without her consent, but she doesn't fully care; Draco calls the reader 'darling' and 'love'; the reader's parents are discussing the arranged marriage with the Malfoys without her consent; passing mention of the reader and Draco having kids together; the reader is definitely attracted to Draco and denying it. I believe that's everything.

A/N: Can you tell that I'm obsessed with the arranged marriage trope when it comes to Draco?? Yes? No? (Well you're gonna be able to tell that even more if he wins the other poll - which he probably will, and that oneshot about him is the one that I post.) I just love the idea that because he's not the best person, the reader would be forced to be in proximity to him, and she would bring out his more likeable side over time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Eventually, I want to do this trope/reaction with all the characters that I mainly write for. (And maybe more, like Neville and Ginny.)

...

The past week of your life has been nothing but a hectic chaos, and you were simply trying your hardest to get through it. 

Your parents had travelled such a long way to ‘catch up’ with their old school friends, the Malfoys, some fellow purebloods that they hadn’t seen since graduating Hogwarts when they were all teenagers. This meant you had been a ‘guest’ at Malfoy Manor for the past week - seven straight days filled with nothing but fake smiling, bragging about your accomplishments, in detail (for your parents’ sake), being shown off like you were some trophy out of their case. You hated it. 

You didn’t think you could handle sitting through one more evening dinner or afternoon tea, hearing them all wax poetic about the ‘good ole days’ while their insufferable son stared at you from across the room. But, as you kept telling yourself, you could go home soon. You could soon go back to your regular life, your own house with walls that weren’t decorated in depressing dark shades - a place with a sprawling rose garden that you missed so dearly. 

Tonight, you just had to get through dinner. 

And then, you could fake some kind of illness and be left alone in the large, comfortable (if entirely dark and dreary) guest room that they had put you up in for your stay. 

Currently, you were racing around that room, wearing nothing but your black stockings and heels, and your jewellery, looking for your perfume bottle to spray some on your neck and chest before you put on your dress and attempted to go through the hassle of zipping it up on your own. You knew that the Malfoys had house elves that you could call upon, but you were really only comfortable with your own elf, Peplum, being the one to dress you. And she was back home because your mother and father didn’t allow her to travel. 

You finally found the perfume bottle and sprayed a few good pumps of it over your neck and breasts, and put one on your inner wrist for good measure. Then you took a moment to bask in the scent because you found it so enjoyable - a nice moment of calming peace from the annoyance and mental strain you had been put through during the past week. 

When you heard the door creak on its hinges, you thought you had been mistaken. 

“My goodness, what do we have here?” 

The sound of someone speaking caused you to jolt, practically jumping out of your skin, and you rushed to cover yourself - the only available covering being your own arms. You turned your back to the door, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep your chest covered, knowing that you looked entirely foolish wearing black tights that went up to your waist, black underwear, and heels - with nothing else. 

Naturally, Draco thought that you looked like a sex dream come to life. 

He could think of nothing sexier than a woman wearing black stockings. So naturally, seeing you topless while wearing those - it caused a stir in his pants that he had to concentrate on for it not to turn into a troubling hardon. He did wish that you weren’t wearing the underwear, though. 

“Don’t cover up on my account.” Draco smirked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pantsuit (partially as a measure to hide any stirring of his cock). And then he simply continued to stand there, not taking his eyes off the round curve of your ass for even a moment. 

When he spoke again, it was only then that you knew who was there, and any shock pulsing through you at the fact of someone just waltzing in faded away in favour of pure annoyance grinding against your nerves. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You barked, glaring over your shoulder at him. “Knocking was invented for a reason!” 

Draco always found your anger attractive. He found that he liked you angry and topless even better. 

“It’s my house. I don’t have to knock.” He shrugged, sounding as entitled as ever. 

You sighed so hard at this it practically came out as a growl under your breath. Even if you liked the heat in his eyes as he looked you over, even if you found him to be somewhat attractive - that pattern of entitlement made him impossible to put up with. 

You had grown up pureblood, and definitely wealthy, but you absolutely had more humility than someone like him. 

“That is so not true!” You screeched back, entirely insulted by this notion. “Knocking is a basic courtesy that your parents should have taught you!” 

“Whatever.” Draco sighed, seeming entirely unconcerned with the social faux pas of walking in on you partially dressed - he didn’t rush to apologise or even bother to look away. “When we’re married, it won’t matter. I’ll get to look at my wife as much as I want,” 

He said these words with a filthy greed grinding against the back of his throat, the expression on his face disgustingly satisfied. He raked his eyes across your body once again, drinking in every bit of you like he was truly entitled to you. 

You turned around then, your neck aching from craning to look at him. You still had an arm covering your breasts, but his eyes definitely stuck to the puff of your cleavage that was leaking out around it. You would have yelled at him, called him a pig for staring so hard - but cared less and less about his staring as you got caught up on his words. 

“‘When we’re married’?” You echoed back, the words entirely strained on your voice. “Are you okay? Have you been snorting the Floo Powder or are you usually this out of touch?” 

Draco chuckled then, and titled his head slightly as he looked at you - it was distinctly condescending, like how someone might look down at a small child. Like he thought you were the one who was truly out of touch. 

“Darling, are you really that daft?” He asked slowly. “Do you really not know what this trip is for?” 

“What?” You croaked. 

Now, you were truly confused. 

“Our parents didn’t just feel like ‘catching up’ out of the blue. They’re trying to come to some sort of agreement. They’re match-making us. You know - bonding two powerful pureblood families.” He explained. 

“Oh… oh god.” You sighed. It all made perfect sense. The ‘hush hush’ lunches that you weren’t allowed to sit in on, the insistence from your mother that you ‘bond’ with Draco, her questions about if you wanted to have children or not when you thought that was distant years in your future. “I am gonna kill them!” 

You moved to storm out of the room, wanting to give your parents a stern talking to for not warning you about this. But - 

“You’re still naked, love.” Draco chuckled. 

You felt a flush of heat run through you - you wanted to say that it was from embarrassment, and not the wonderfully teasing nickname, and his cutesy tone. But you had other things to focus on than your non-attraction to Draco Malfoy. 

“Ugh.” You turned back around sharply and grabbed your dress off the bed, and after you stepped into it and aggressively pulled the straps up over your shoulders, you struggled to reach behind you and even begin to pull the zipper closed. 

You froze instantly when you felt Draco’s cool fingers brush against the skin of your lower back as he grabbed onto the zipper and then nimbly did it up for you. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and you told yourself that the shivers down your spine were from his cool touch, and not because of any underlying (very annoyed) attraction toward him. 

“Might not be so bad.” Draco breathed against your neck, causing more goosebumps to form on your skin. “Being married to you.” 

You felt an argument bubbling under the surface - but you saved that energy for the ensuing fight you were bound to have with your parents. Instead, you simply scoffed and rolled your eyes in response.

[aerynwrites]

Peaceful Moments

Halsin x gn!Reader

A/N: based on a request sent in by the lovely @chaoticlicense thank you for this request friend! I had such a blast writing it!

Word Count: 921

Warnings: none

The small glade near the river is peaceful today. Not that it’s ever not peaceful, but today feels more…Serene than usual. 

You and Halsin had managed to get away from the sanctuary unnoticed in order to take the short walk to the river to bathe and just take a moment for yourselves. 

Despite the solution of the brain and the absolute and you and Halsin creating a sanctuary for those in need, it seems rare you actually get time alone with your partner. So, you plan to cherish this time, even if it’s nothing over the top or exciting.

You relish in it. 

Both of you had gotten clean in the river, toweling off and redressing before choosing a sunny spot against a felled tree to rest against. The light is dappled as it shines through the forest canopy, and the warmth that kisses your skin makes you feel satiated, like a cat basking in the sun. 

Your back rests against the trunk of the fallen tree, a thin coating of moss protecting you from the rough bark. Halsin sits between your legs, upper half bare as he lets the sun dry the last of the water from his tanned skin. 

Your fingers work slowly at the strands of his damp honey colored hair, detangling before moving to twist them into small braids. The only sound that permeates the still air is that of the gurgling river, your soft humming, and the gentle scraping of a blade on wood. 

You watch as muscles ripple beneath the skin of Halsin’s back as he works on a whittling project, only stopping every now and again to toss shavings off to the side. 

The quiet is only broken when Halsin decides to speak up, but still not stopping his task. 

“What tune do you sing, my heart?” He asks. “I do not believe I’ve heard it before.”

You pause your humming, brought from your rivière as your fingers stall in the midst of another braid. You’d never really thought about the song you were humming, the tune just coming naturally to you. Your fingers continue their work as you reply. 

“It was a song my mother used to hum when she…Well, when she did my hair,” you reveal, fond memories surfacing in your mind. 

“She loved to sing. Although I never quite picked up her talent in that regard I…I suppose it’s a way for me to keep her with me.”

Halsin lets out a soft hum of his own, pausing his whittling just as you finish up your current braid, tying the end off before adding a small golden cuff at the end. You move to grab another section of hair, but Halsin is turning to face you before you can.

“Hey! I wasn’t done-“ 

Your words are cut off as Halsin picks you up effortlessly in order to place you in his lap, your legs straddling his hips as his eyes meet your own. 

“You sing beautifully,” Halsin says softly, his whittling set aside in favor of taking your face in his hands. “More beautifully than even the loudest song birds.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, cheeks warm as your avoid his gaze. “Halsin…” you say quietly.

But the druid doesn’t relent, instead he turns your face towards his once more, his lips a hair's breadth from your own. 

“I speak the truth,” he says firmly. “I love you, all of you and the gifts nature bestowed upon you.”

For a moment, you’re lost for words - something that happens more often than not with Halsin’s pretty poetic way with words. Thankfully, his lips meet yours before you have to speak, and you hope he can sense your love for him.

His lips are soft, gentle as they move against you, and you relish in the proximity of your two bodies. His chest is warm and solid beneath your palms as your hands slide up the vast expanse of him, the hair there scratching delightfully against your fingertips. 

Before you realize it, Halsin has moved you both, your back against the soft grass as he hovers over you, his lips never leaving yours. Only when his hair falls over his shoulders does he pull away, the gentle tinkling of the metal hair adornments drawing his attention. 

He pauses for a moment, bringing one hand up to pull a braid into his line of sight, brows furrowing as he takes in the delicate golden cuff around the end of this particular braid. 

His eyes flick to you, and you bite your lip shyly. 

“I…I saw them when we were back in the city. I thought they were pretty and then thought about you wearing them and well…” you trail off for a moment. “Do you not like them?”

For a moment, you fear a small rebuke. Halsin barely likes clothing, would he really appreciate such trivial baubles?

But any and all worries fall away as Halsin smiles down at you, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Anything that pleases you is a pleasure to me, my heart,” he laughs. “Perhaps now I won’t sneak up on you so often.”

A giggle of your own slips past your lips at his words. 

“Oh no, you’ve figured out my whole plan!” You tease.

Haslin only smiles before descending on you once more with a kiss. 

You may not get many moments like these, but you will always cherish the ones you do.