#her two deepest wounds

[lucyllawless]

"You just can just ask me your questions. Aloud"

[oculusxcaro]

Scar map for Khare!

Template found here! (Stolen from @gnarledbite ♡)

[princessbellecerise]

You Kiss Their Scars

Summary ✩ How your lover reacts to you kissing their scars

Warnings ✩ Mentions of violence and blood

Jacaerys Velaryon

You were amused as your lips pressed against the teeth shaped scars, in the shape of tiny little bite marks that Jace explained were from Vermax

“He used to bite me plenty when we shared a crib,” Your husband told you. “He was a nasty little thing. Mother was afraid he’d take a chunk out of my arm—but he never did. He stopped doing it when I bit him back,” He revealed

You giggled as you imagined baby Jace and baby Vermax—both the same size at one point—going at it while Rhaenyra tried to separate them. “So I suppose you’ve both always been temperamental then,” You said

It was no surprise that your husband, who also had quite the temper, related so much to his dragon. The two were one of the same, and you guessed that’s why they got along so well

“Yes,” Jacaerys agreed, a fond smile on his face as he recalled the memories. “We were quite a menacing pair indeed.”

Aegon Targaryen

“She did it again,” Is the only thing Aegon had to tell you in order for you to pull him into your arms, kissing the spot where a nasty red bruise was forming

It was no secret that your husband and his mother did not get along, but never did you think that she would have the audacity to strike him after an argument

It was appalling to you every time it happened, and you wanted nothing more than to march towards her and give the same treatment, Queen be damned

It wasn’t fair that she took out her anger out on Aegon but he begged you, no pleaded with you to not do anything

“It won’t do any good,” He’d tell you sadly, and your heart would ache as you saw the brokenness, the sadness on his face. “She’ll just hate me even more if you act.”

Aemond Targaryen

“Hold still.”

You jutted your tounge out in concentration as you cleaned Aemond’s scar, making sure that it was sanitized properly for the day

Your husband trusting you with such a thing was an act of love itself. The fact that he trusted you to see his deepest insecurity meant alot to you, and all you could do to repay him and hopefully bring up his spirits was pepper light kisses on the skin surrounding it

“There, all done.”

“Thank you, my love,” Aemond smiled slightly as he touched the spots were your lips touched, still wondering how he got so lucky as to find someone like you

Cregan Stark

“Ow! Be gentle, woman,” Cregan said playfully, wincing as you brushed over his ‘scar’ with a wet cloth

Somehow, for some reason, your dear husband thought it would be funny to wrestle with his dire wolf and then he had the nerve to come crawling to you, asking you to patch up his wounds after the beast had bitten him

Of course, it wasn’t really that big of a deal and Cregan wasn’t really hurt, but you still smirked as you pressed a kiss to it like it was a real wound

“There. That should ease some of the pain, you big baby,” You teased, rolling your eyes

Cregan chuckled as he checked your work, looking at the bandage you had placed over some ointment

“What do you suppose it’ll look like when it heals?” He asked you seriously

“It’ll look like you simply have a freckle, Creagn,” You responded sarcastically, and then you giggled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap

“Don’t make fun me, wife. You should be proud,” He said, flexing the arm where the bite was. “How many men do you know have taken on such a beast and lived to tell the tale?”

“Only you, husband. Only you.” You snorted at his dramatics, wondering just what you were going to do with your silly, drama queen of a husband

Benjicot Blackwood

There was reason they called your husband ‘Bloody Ben’

You found this out when one day, he came limping home after solving a conflict in the Riverlands, covered in wounds and blood—so much blood

Thankfully, most of it wasn’t his but Benji still did have a few wounds that needed looking after

The Maester was busy, having been sent by your husband to tend to the other men, so you got the pleasure of dragging him to your chambers, making sure that he was clean before you began to stitch him up

The entire time you worked, Benji barely even flinched which amazed you

By the time that you were done with his top half, he’d barely said a word or complained which led to you kissing over a few of his stitches as a reward

“What was that for?” He asked in wonder, a small blush on his cheeks while you grinned

“That, my love, is for being such a good patient,” You told him cheekily, and you did not expect what Benji did next

Standing up, he loosened his trousers and then he grinned as he pointed at the area beneath his small clothes

“Well in that case, I’ll need plenty of kisses here, too. No promises that I won’t move if you touch me there though.”

“Benji!”

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Lay Claim (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: The return of Agatha's ex stirs up feelings in you that would rather have been left in the past.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, a few swear words, angst, mommy kink kind of

When you were told the Witches Road would show you your deepest fears you’d been expecting something like clowns or zombies or the inescapable plod towards death. What you weren’t expecting was Agatha’s ex to show up and stir up all kinds of feelings. That was not the kind of fear you were thinking you would be shown.

Watching Agatha and Rio interact, you felt a pit in your stomach. Turning your gaze down to your bare feet, you scowled, not wanting to keep watching, not wanting to keep feeling. Your silence was all encompassing, not able to even feign interest while this show was going in front of you.

An arm wound through yours, startling you. Glancing up, blue eyes were staring out at the coven you’d unwittingly joined, lips pressed together.

“The universe is conspiring against me,” Agatha said, a displeased growl of a voice.

“Oh please. I doubt the universe is even thinking about you,” you replied.

She rolled her eyes but her lips pulled up into a small smile. The flutter of your heart shouldn’t have been your response, but anything that give her some modicum of entertainment always did that to you. You liked being able to make her happy, even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

“You can’t trust her,” she said, lowering her voice, eyes trained on Rio.

“I know,” you replied, a sick twist in your gut.

You’d met Agatha long before she’d gone after Wanda and gotten caught in Westview. Back then, it had been the fluttering beginnings of romantic feelings. Soft glances, fingers brushing together, soft whispers over spell books late at night. Right on the precipice of something more, you’d teetered for months, waiting for one of you to make a move. And then she’d disappeared.

When she’d walked into your shop with a teenager in tow, you’d been completely caught off guard. Your heart had thudded once, twice, in your chest and you’d had no words. But you’d shown up to her house at the allotted time. Of course you had. It was still a case of when she told you to jump, you asked how high.

After so many years apart with no word from her, you were jumping pretty fucking high to be with her again.

“She’ll hurt you for her own sick gain,” she said, her eyes still locked on the other woman.

Rio turned, looking over her shoulder at the two of you. The wink she gave only made your jaw clench. Those brown eyes lazily dragged from Agatha to you, her smirk settling deeper on her face before turning back to looking forward.

“You assume I can’t take care of myself,” you said, knowing you didn’t sound pleased.

In your peripheral vision, you saw her head finally turn towards you. Those brilliant blue eyes were like a ghostly caress, sweeping over you before settling on your face. She lent closer, her breath ghosting over your skin. You fought against a shiver, knowing there was no way to hide it with her so close.

“Can you?” she asked.

You turned towards her, nose almost brushing hers.

“Just because I’ve never fought you before doesn’t mean I can’t,” you said, “I’m not the one who had her powers taken. I didn’t choose to take such a big risk and ended up losing it all.”

“No need to be mean, kitten,” she said, lips pouting and like a moth to a flame, your gaze focused on them.

“Isn’t there?” you asked, your eyes meeting hers again.

She didn’t give you an answer, only drawing back far enough that the two of you weren’t sharing the same air. You glanced away, finding brown eyes watching in interest. Turning to stare out at the trees, you ignored that probing look from the only person you refused to give your answers to.

“I remember you talking more,” Agatha said as if you hadn’t been difficult, “a real chatty Cathy.”

“It’s been years. People change,” you said with a small shrug that she must have felt through the arm still wound around yours.

“I didn’t think you would,” she said.

“Why?” you asked, not sure what you were hoping to get from her.

“Because I liked you how you were,” she replied.

“But not now,” you said, hating that you’d asked in the first place.

“I’m still deciding,” she said, almost distantly, like the answer didn’t matter.

The answer definitely mattered.

Later, walking beside Jen, you were doing your best to not look at Agatha and Rio again. Snipping at each other, the animosity a front for unspoken sexual tension, you were finding it difficult not to listen in. It was making your skin itch.

“So you knew Agatha before all this?” Jen asked.

“Uh huh,” you said, still watching the two of them bickering.

“What was she like? When you knew her?” she asked.

“Uh… kind of similar to how she is now,” you replied, dragging your gaze away from her, “a liar, manipulative, but so much fun. She was my best friend.”

You glanced back to her, finding blue eyes already there to meet yours. The moment stretched and you felt yourself trembling. Forcing yourself to look away, you found Jen watching with interest.

“But that was years ago,” you said, waving off the pit in your gut, acting as if it no longer existed.

“What happened?” she asked.

“What always happens. She disappeared into the night,” you replied.

“So what? She dropped you without warning?” she asked.

You narrowed your eyes at her, considering her for a moment. She was still looking at you expectantly. You wrinkled your nose and sped up, leaving her behind without an answer. The weight of a heavy gaze stayed on you, longer than you were expecting. You refused to meet those eyes again, hating every second of what you were feeling. This was not what you’d signed up for.

Except it was.

“So what made you agree to this little adventure?”

You’d been so caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t realised that Rio had fallen into step beside you. You glanced over then away again, keeping your gaze straight ahead.

“All encompassing power,” you replied.

“Ha, right,” she said, “I’m sure that was the incentive that had you joining this band of merry men.”

“What other reason could I have?” you snapped, immediately regretting it when you saw the lick of satisfaction passing over her face.

“Perhaps you feel a sense of loyalty for a certain beguiling witch,” she said.

You scoffed, hoping to cover up the exact reason.

“Or maybe,” she said, drawing even closer, breath ghosting over your ear, “you just want to please mommy.”

You jerked back, snapping your head around to look at her. She was grinning, delighting in your heated cheeks and thudding heart. Her hand slid along your lower back, curling around your hip as she tugged you closer. Your breath was a shudder and your skin felt on fire. Brown eyes rested on your lips for just a moment before finding yours again. You didn’t even realise the two of you had stopped walking.

“Is that why you’re doing it? Are you hoping to be mommy’s special girl?” she asked, voice lowering into a whisper.

You pressed your lips together, eyes darting up, searching for someone, anyone, who could interrupt this moment. Blue eyes flashed and you felt your breath catch.

“Take your hands off her,” Agatha growled.

“And why would I do that?” Rio asked, head rolling in the direction of the other witch.

“Because I told you to,” she said.

“But she’s such a pretty pet,” she said, looking back at you.

Her nail trailed over your lip, a threat held in the gentle touch. You shoved at her, only to find her pressing you closer, chest to chest, caught up in her arms like twisting vines. She drew closer, the scent of wet dirt and rotting leaves invading your nose.

“Stop,” Agatha said.

“No one lays claim to her,” Rio said, lips almost close enough to brush yours, “she’s free game.”

“I claim her.” Agatha’s voice had hardened.

The small noise you made was embarrassing. So close, there was no possibility Rio had missed it, probably locking it away to use against Agatha at a later date. But to hear those words after all this time… You hadn’t been able to stop yourself. Rio released you, stepping away with a small shrug.

“If you say so,” she said. Agatha snatched at your arm, steering you away from the other witch. Your jaw clenched but you let her, like a toy won in a game of tug of war between two toddlers. Ignoring the audience watching on, she strode off, leading everyone further down the road.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you muttered under your breath.

“Yes,” she said, her voice still hard, “I did.”

You didn’t argue, letting her continue to steer you with the strong hold she had on your arm, just above your elbow, fingers digging in hard enough to make you wonder if there would be bruises there later. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, you thought.

She kept silent until you made camp, another day on the road leaving you weary. The flickering fire crackled, the voices of the women familiar in ways you hadn’t experienced in such a long time. Agatha sat beside you, silent and brooding, shoulder brushing against yours. Across the fire, Rio was watching with dark eyes and darker smile.

It felt as if you were turning into a pawn in a game of power you had never agreed to play.

When it came time to lay on the bed of leaves, you curled into a ball, your back to both women. All you wanted was a moment to yourself, the roiling in your stomach and the burning in your veins toxic, making it impossible to forget the jealousy you’d been grappling with this entire trip. This god forsaken trip. You squeezed your eyes closed, willing yourself to sleep.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, the sky never changing from perpetual night. Soft fingers were gently stroking through your hair. Your forehead was gently resting against the side of a warm thigh, your body curled towards the woman you’d missed more than you’d admitted to her. Your unconscious mind had sought out what you hadn’t let yourself want in your waking hours.

Keeping your eye closed, you pressed your face against Agatha’s leg. Her fingers stilled for a moment before continuing. It was soothing, her touch something you’d missed for so many years.

“I missed you,” you whispered, still soft with sleep, not quite able to stop yourself.

“I know you did, hon,” she said, still carding her fingers through your hair.

You sighed, knowing that was probably the best you were ever going to get from her. You shuffled away, dislodging her fingers. Sitting up, you plucked leaves from your hair, letting them flutter back to the road. She reached out for you but you shook your head.

“Don’t,” you said, “this is… I can’t do this.”

Scrabbling to your feet, you looked down at her. The expression on her face was hurt and confused before the mask slammed back into place.

“Fine by me,” she said, “if you can’t do it then you can’t do it.”

“Fine,” you said.

You spun on your heels and strode off, giving yourself the chance to calm down. The ache in your chest was only growing the more time you spent with her and you were certain it was going to end in heartbreak. For you, specifically. Even if she had done that whole claiming thing with Rio.

Which, you weren’t going to lie, was still making your knees weak when you thought about it.

Shoving your fingers through the front of your hair, clenching your fist, you stared out at the road. You should have never agreed to join Agatha’s coven. You’d known it was a bad idea even as you’d shown up to her house. And yet here you were, like a love sick puppy, unable to say no to her.

“Just to be clear, what is the this you can’t do?”

You jumped, spinning around. Agatha, in all of her witchy glory, had managed to follow you on silent feet.

“Don’t sneak up on me,” you admonished, your heart beating too fast in your chest.

“I see your perceptive abilities are still the same as ever,” she said.

“You know what? I take it back. I wish you’d left me alone,” you said.

“You don’t mean that, hon,” she said.

“I do,” you said, “because then I wouldn’t feel like this and I could have continued on assuming you’d just grown tired of me instead of whatever is going on now.”

“You thought I’d grown tired of you?” she asked.

You glanced up, finding those blue eyes staring at you with such intensity it made you shiver.

“We argued about you going after Wanda, but you went anyway and when you didn’t come back I just assumed…” you said, trailing off.

“That I was finished with you,” she finished for you.

“I mean, now I know that wasn’t it, and don’t get me wrong, I want to crucify Wanda for what she did to you. But then on the other hand, it hasn’t exactly been the way it was before you left,” you said.

“I’m glad you recognise you’ve been acting out of character,” she said.

“Not me,” you snapped, “you. You’ve been all mooney eyed over Rio. Lingering glances and stolen looks and bickering all over the place.”

“Careful, kitten. You’re sounding jealous,” she said, taking a swaying step closer.

“Say’s the woman who was ready to throw down with a woman who simply touched me,” you said.

“She was doing a bit more than touch you,” she scoffed.

You closed the gap with her, both hands grasping her face. Her own hands came up, fingers curling around your wrists in a tight grip.

“Don’t throw stones in glass houses, Agatha,” you warned, pulling her closer.

“I’ve missed you too,” she murmured, making your heart ache, “before that bitch put me under her spell, when I was there in Westview getting ready to take her magic. The entire time I wished you were there with me.”

“And now? Do you still wish I was with you?” you asked.

“More than anything,” she whispered.

“And Rio?” you asked.

“Can burn in hell,” she replied, “and if she touches you again she won’t be making it to the end of the road. You’re mine, pet, and only mine.”

“As long as you know I claim you too,” you said.

She lingered, a hair’s breadth from your lips. With your hands still cupping her cheeks, you closed the distance, kissing her the way you’d spent so long dreaming of. It wasn’t the stuff of romance, soft and sweet and butterfly inducing. She kissed you like she owned you, possessing you. You dragged her closer, pressing your body to hers, wanting to feel every inch of her.

The kissed deepened. Heat spread through your veins and you moaned, hands sliding from her cheeks to her hair, tangling your fingers in it until it pulled. Her teeth sunk into your lower lip. You whimpered into her mouth, clutching tighter, not caring how needy you were being. You’d waited long enough for this. You weren’t about to play it cool enough for her to think she’d made the wrong decision by kissing you.

She dragged herself away from your lips, eyes darkened and lips kiss swollen, a flush high on her cheeks. You thought she’d never looked so beautiful, nor more desirable. She was the kind of temptation that had your knees growing weak.

“I bet you’re not wishing I’d left you alone now,” she said, but the breathless note undercut the cocky attitude she was trying for.

“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling her in for another kiss.

You didn’t know how much time passed like that, losing yourself in her. But when you returned to the fire once more, you curled up beside her, head resting in her lap, letting her fingers run through your hair once more. It was the best you’d slept in quite a long time.

The next day, no one mentioned the change between the two of you, but they didn’t have to. It was obvious. Agatha had laid claim to you and you, without any argument, had laid claim to her too.

[amazinglyashy]

HI I LOVE ur lads headcanons ‼️ idk if u do angst but im feeling some angsty/hurt/comfort........... can i pls request the lads men's reaction to the reader rejecting their confession bc we think they deserve better...... someone who doesn't have a heart condition (like the mc) or something........

Oh my gosh, thank you so much!! And oh man, I love angst and hurt/comfort, as long as I get to give it a tiny bit of hope/a happy ending! I felt this one though, I've thought about it before with my own MC…….. a few dozen times- Hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request! <3

Love and Deepspace Li’s reactions to you rejecting their confession due to feelings of inadequacy

Rafayel -

Rafayel is… surprised, to say the least.

Not only do you not have any memory of him or the things you did together- the things you did to him- but you also are straight up turning him down when he finally realized that he needs to confess to you all over again.

He's pretty upset.

It'll definitely turn into an argument, and you know he's hurt. Damn, you're hurt too, just having to turn him down. He makes you feel something, like you're special. Like you're everything to him. Like you're not…

Broken.

And it'll come out eventually. Maybe not blatantly so, but in small ways, your feelings of inadequacy will start to leak through the cracks that are forming in your resolve as you try to refuse a man who has already been refused his love by fate and prophecy for far too long.

And somehow, that makes it so much worse. Because he can fight fate, he can go against the currents of time and the ever evolving cruelty of human nature. But he can't do anything about the feelings raging inside your own head.

He's sure going to try though.

Angrily but calmly, he will start firing off things he has done for you, just because he's loved you so much, throughout all of your time together and even before. He doesn't know if it'll make it worse, make you feel like he already does too much for whatever it is you see yourself as, but he's going to do it anyway. And slowly, it'll start forming into the things you two do together- the things you've done for him when he needs you.

And you're going to be there a while, because until you start to realize, until he starts to chip away at that dark feeling in the deepest reaches of your mind and heart, he's not going to let up.

Not now, not ever.

Sylus -

He's a bit taken aback, but he's not particularly surprised. He had seen this coming, mentally prepared himself for it, even. He knew after his treatment of you when the two of you had just met again for the first time, that any sort of official relationship between you two would be tricky to get to. Especially putting an actual label on it.

He'll be a lot more surprised when he reads between the lines at your words, and realizes it's not because you're still scared of him, but because you don't think you're good enough for him.

"You can't be serious, sweetie."

He's not going to force you to accept his confession, but regardless of how timid or aggressive you become, whether you escalate it vocally or try to exit the conversation, he's not arguing with you. He pretty much refuses to, as he instead begins to state snarky facts as he crosses his arms, watching your reactions as he does.

"When you patched my wounds a month ago, was I not deserving of your hands caring for me because they were shaky and belonging to you? How about that girl you muttered about that we saw at the café who was mad at her boyfriend to the point of shouting, when he didn't get her the right cake she wanted? Are you saying you're worse than her? Helping me on jobs simply because you want to exist near me is… not good enough for me?"

"Sylus, that's not what I'm saying-"

"Oh don't worry sweetie. I know exactly what it is you're saying. I just know it's a particularly misinformed, self loathing thought for you to be having. Don't you think it's insulting for you to decide who I give my love to? After every calculated decision you have witnessed me make?"

He'll finally soften, reaching out a hand to gently rest on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle back and forth.

"You don't need to be concerning yourself with what I deserve in a partner. You should have faith in my opinions, if not for yourself, but for your confidence in me, sweetie. After that, the rest is up to what you truly want in your heart."

Zayne -

His reaction is definitely the most reserved initially, especially until he realizes why exactly you're turning him down.

He definitely has the passing thought that maybe you're just misunderstanding him again, just like back with the snow seals when the two of you were still kids.

When he realizes that's not the case, and instead, it's your own internalized feelings, he's first a bit relieved, and secondly- pretty perturbed.

"It's interesting to know that's your perspective, given how much you enjoy those fictional stories with ironic pairings. I would think that it would be the most romantic thing for a heart patient to be in a relationship with a cardiac surgeon.

His biting but well-meaning quips aside, he's not quite sure how to break it to you that he used to be in a similar boat, and still is to some capacity. Which is partly why he's a bit upset to understand your perspective.

He's genuinely surprised you haven't processed the timeline of the two of you and your lives. Your accident that caused the state of your heart, his leaving to study medicine and become a specialist in cardiology and a renowned cardiac surgeon- are you not able to see that it's not an inadequacy for him, but his own lack of knowledge when you first started having issues made himself feel inadequate? Why he left without a word for years in the first place?

And not just that- it also applies to other fields too. He has no issues helping you where you need him, because he knows the extent of your capabilities, much like he knows his own. And he will spend forever if he needs to, to show you that loving is not about who does more. It's about doing what your partner needs, no matter how much or how little that is, and loving each other through every hard moment.

And you're about to hear every ounce of his convincing, opinions, and own feelings, until you start to see. Until you finally see.

Xavier -

Unless you tell it to him straight, he's not going to know why you rejected him. He'll be hurt, but he'll accept your rejection graciously and politely, before trying to figure out just how to get you to accept it.

There's an increase in claw machine dates, movie night invitations, and how much he helps you with missions or even just around your apartment. Eventually, you process the weird behavior and you're all but forced to confront him on really truly why you rejected him.

It's Xavier, so you try to play it off as a lighthearted situation or a joke, but you can see his expression darkening, and you're not sure if it's because of him being upset at your words, or realizing just how much time he has sunk into you with how... broken of a person you are.

Turns out, it's the former!

It's hard to not realize such, as he's pulling you into the tightest hug he's probably ever grabbed you into.

For a while, it's just you and him standing there, with him squeezing you tightly and you not knowing what to do with your hands or the lump rising in the back of your throat. He doesn't really know what to say, but he does know he needs to say something.

"I'll definitely make you see that you're more than enough for me."

"Xavier- that's not how this work-"

"I know, and I don't care. I- I need you to know that you're everything to me. You're not inadequate, or broken, or anything you've been telling yourself. You're more than enough. You're more than everything to me. And I'm not going anywhere until you finally understand that."

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Safe and sound....Kinda" pt. 2

You went M.I.A. and the LADS Men are stressed!

Xavier

"It's been almost a week Jeremiah we need to check places the hunter association won't look" Xavier was already on the move heading towards the first No-hunt Zone of many. Jeremiah trailed behind him almost jogging trying to keep up.

"I understand that Xavier, but you're not in the right head space to-" Jeremiah swallows his words when Xavier whipped around abruptly getting in his face. "to what? Find the love of my life? I'm done waiting around twiddling my thumbs she could be out there dying for all we know"

Xavier turned on his heels and continued on his path "If your way of helping is planting seeds of doubt then don't follow me"

After two days of non-stop searching he did it. In the deepest parts of the forest Xavier found himself at the tip of your Hunters sword nearly taking his head off. His eyes widened in shock just as yours did when you realized who you were looking at "Xav......?" Your words faded as you dropped your sword and fell into his chest almost knocking him over.

"Where have you been? What are you doing in this zone its dangerous"

"I got pulled into a rift I've been fighting alone for five days" Your breathing was labored before you began to cough. Xavier flinched from the death grip you had on his arm as you tried to keep yourself upright. That's when he noticed your ripped clothes. Since when was your uniform so short and revealing?

It wasn't.

You'd been tearing your clothes to bandage your wounds, but they weren't doing so well considering they were soaked through in old and fresh blood. Your shoes were missing along with your socks. "I kept fighting because I knew...." A cough tore from your chest making your throat burn as you coughed up blood. "....I knew you'd find me" Your grip loosened as you went slack in his arms.

"Of course I'd find you" Xavier managed you wrangle you onto his back as he sent his coordinates to Jeremiah to come and pick the two of you up. "Just hang on a little longer"

Sylus

You dragged your shoulder along the wall of a back alleyway before dropping falling flat on the ground. You don't know how many days it's been since you told Sylus you'd be back in less than a day. Your vision blurred as your head swam from exhaustion and dehydration.

"I see her!" That voice sounds familiar....

You feel two sets of hands on you pulling you into a sitting position, but your head is so heavy. "Just let me sleep for a while"

"No you have to stay up Boss is almost here" Luke?

"Stay with us" Kieran?

You felt that comforting red and black mist engulf you and soon you were cradled in Sylus' arms. If you didn't know any better you'd say Sylus looked as if he'd been crying. His eyes seemed bloodshot, but what do you know you can barely keep your eyes open. You're probably seeing things.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I dropped my phone & a wanderer shattered my watch .... along with my wrist .... I figured if I got close enough to the N109 Zone .... you would find me" A weak smile graced your lips. "Looks like I was right"

"Let's get you home" He whispered and it was the last thing you heard before your head bobbed one last time and darkness consumed you.

Sylus made sure you had the best medical care money can buy while staying in the comfort of his king sized bed. He wouldn't leave your side as you slowly recovered. "Were you crying over me?"

"Shut up and take your pain meds"

Sylus is hard to write because that man got Mephisto on our ass 24/7

Zayne & Rafayel here ♡

[bouquetface]

Synastry observations 4

Accuracy influenced by the ENTIRE chart.

PLEASE READ: You may not relate despite having these aspects. It’s important to look at the ENTIRE chart (never just one placement) when reading for accuracy. There are several ways these aspects can manifest.

Moon Conjunct Venus

Intuitive understanding of the other’s emotions. Being in tune with each other. Finding support from one another. Feeling seen, supported & understood. This conjunction can keep bringing the two back together. I’ve also noticed with this conjunction, you create/have many comforting memories together. One may think of the other randomly as memories&thoughts of the other are triggered throughout a normal week.

This placement can make on sentimental & nostalgic. This connection breaking up, is a hellish experience. It’s difficult to not remember the other.

Moon conjunct Mars

In friendships, I’ve noticed the Mars person be very encouraging and supportive of the Moon. For ex: Tell/encourage them to try out for big roles. Mars can help build up confidence for the Moon.

The negative is Mars can (purposefully or accidentally) hurt Moon just as easy as they can build them up. Full chart needs to be taken into consideration.

In relationships, this can create extreme attraction. The two can be quick to act on it as well. For ex: My friend who had a kid young has this with her baby’s dad. They didn’t know each other for too long before having the kid.

Chiron conjunct Sun

Sun can unintentionally shine a light on the other person’s deepest wound. This can be good or bad depending on whether the chiron person is ready to face their past pain. Often, I read this is a red flag in synastry. In my real life, this hasn’t shown true.

In my real life, I’ve seen this twice manifest as the chiron and sun person having a sorta unspoken understanding of one another.

Ex.1: Person A has a chiron cap in 4th House. This person felt like asking their parents for anything was a burden to them. Whether it be an emotional need or a physical want. They were lonely in childhood.

Person B has a cap sun. As the eldest child, they had a similar experience. They would help care for their younger siblings. Attempt to minimize their own needs & wants because they could see how hard it was for their mom to raise the 3 younger kids. They always put their own self last.

Together, Person A and Person B have realized they have similar traits. They admire and respect these traits in each other.

Ex 2. It’s pretty much the same as example one. However, might be due to the age difference but the chiron person admires the sun person. The sun person naturally displays the traits, the chiron person feels necessary to thrive.

The negatives are the hurting each other without fully realizing it. The sun person could sub consciously remind the chiron of their past.

For ex: A Virgo sun’s analytical nature could be perceived as unnecessary criticism to the virgo chiron. The virgo chiron may then begin to dislike the sun as they are reminded of people they don’t like/who hurt them in the past.

Now keep in mind, chiron stays in a sign for 4ish years. You won’t like or dislike every chiron born in those 4 years. This aspect isn’t a main one to be looking at imo unless it is very closely conjunct.

Moon conjunct Mercury

3 times I’ve noticed this creates an awkward beginning but a good long term friendship. It might because it was in earth signs, they tend to be reserved before opening up. Gradually, a good emotional foundation is created. The two understand each other. It’s always easy to catch up even if you take a pause. This is such a good aspect that I see it helps overcome harsher aspects in synastry.

Composite Chart

Aqua Moon: A distance can be kept in the connection. You two may have many placements in your natal chart that indicate you do not open up easily (Cap chiron, Scorpio Venus, 8th H placements, etc). Regardless of how close you get, both may try to remain a bit reserved to prevent being entirely vulnerable to the other. This isn’t necessarily a negative.

Moon in 4th House: A secure connection. Great foundation if you want to build something together (a business, a family). Long term connection indicator. You may find each other reliable. You know what to expect with the other.

Venus conjunct Mars: This would be a difficult connection to move away from. Their is attraction that keeps you two together / coming back together. This is not necessarily sexual. For example, if you have this in a friendship, you two simply have too much history to ever truly forget this person. The connection only grows over time. One cannot replace the other. You two have affected each other’s personalities in a big way. This can be good or bad.

For example, in the 12th House. I’ve seen this as a relationship that fell out. One can go long periods without ever thinking of the other. Yet, the impact they had remains. This person is suspicious and cautious of letting new people entier their lives. Trust issues were created in that connection.

Mars conjunct MC

I’ve seen this manifest in a friendship that fell out. Outsiders who know of the other, know they do not like that other person. Your conflicts can become public with this conjunction.

Venus opposite Mercury

This can make communication very difficult. It can lead to a difference in communication style. For ex: One person is very blunt, the other is very soft spoken & sensitive. You hurt each other with your words even when you don’t mean it.

I’ve seen a chart where Venus was in 12th opposite Mercury. This resulted in one party getting ghosted & blocked.

Moon in 5th House:

A fun connection. You can joke with each other. You can be spontaneous when together. This is a positive placement.

The potential negative is this may become your “remember friend”. You go to each other for nostalgic purposes. Like remember when we____. Repeating old inside jokes. A playful friendship. Prone to avoid serious conversation. This isn’t really negative if you both do not want more from one another. Other placements in the chart can change this as well. You may have the ability to be serious but prefer the joking nature of the connection.

Moon in 7th House:

You two simply make good partners. Ex: Business partners, cooking partners, group project partners, etc. There can be a shared understanding of what is fair and what is right. Only negative is that you should be aware of co dependency issues.

7th House ruler in 12th House:

Twice, I’ve seen this appear as other people being the cause of the connection ending. In one situation, it was emotional cheating. This person got exposed for having very inappropriate conversations with someone else. The second situation, one friend was talking shit & revealing secrets about the other. They were exposed by a mutual friend. In both these situations, the other person was so furious they did not give a clear reason for why they were leaving. They simply left ghosted and blocked.

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi! could you write a chloe x red x fem!reader (ben's younger sister) imagine where the reader is sick and they take care of her?

Sick Days | Chloe Charming & Red

Pairing: Chloe Charming x Red x fem!reader (Ben's!younger!sister!reader)

Summary: Being sick certainly isn't fun. Luckily, girls are always ready to take care of you.

Warning/s: fluff, short fic, like really short fic, sickness, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: My Wi-Fi sucked the whole day yesterday AND today, so I'm only posting this now even though I wanted to yesterday. Anyways, here you go. Hope you enjoy it!

The Isle of the Lost was a place where shadows clung to every cracked cobblestone, and love was a rarity. But you, Ben's younger sister, had always been drawn to the unexpected—the way Chloe's laughter echoed through the narrow alleys, and the way Red's eyes softened when she thought no one was watching.

Your secret relationship with both Chloe and Red was a delicate dance.

Chloe, the daughter of Cinderella, was fierce, but a true softly and she was never afraid to show it. Her blue hair fell in curls, and her eyes held secrets she'd never share.

Red, on the other hand, was all brooding intensity—the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, tuff nature with eyes filled with determination, but with a big golden heart.

One chilly evening, you stumbled upon their dorms. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Chloe's eyes widened when she saw you, shivering and pale.

"You're burning up," she said, her voice gentle like always. "Red, we need to take care of her."

Red grunted, but there was concern in her eyes. She pulled you closer, wrapping you in a blue and yellow blanket.

Chloe brewed a cup of herbal tea, her fingers deft as she stirred in honey and whispered incantations for healing.

"You're lucky we found you," Chloe said, her fingers brushing against your forehead. "We're not exactly known for our nurturing skills."

Red scoffed, but she stoked the fire, making sure you were warm. She pulled out an old book—a relic from Auradon—and began reading aloud. Her voice was deep, resonant, weaving tales of magic and redemption. You leaned against her, feeling the fever slowly go away.

Chloe sat on the other side, humming a soothing melody. Her touch was tender as she traced patterns on your arm.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered. "We won't let anything happen to you."

And in that moment, surrounded by two unlikely protectors, you believed her. The Isle might be harsh, but love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds. Chloe and Red took turns caring for you—Chloe with her potions and Red with her stories. They stayed by your side, their hearts entwined with yours.

Days blurred into nights, and you drifted in and out of fever dreams. Chloe braided your hair, and Red traced intricate patterns on your hair. They argued about the best way to break the curse that plagued the Isle, their voices rising and falling like a symphony.

When you finally opened your eyes, weak but alive, Chloe pressed a kiss to your forehead. Red grunted, but her hand found yours, rough and steady.

"You're stuck with us," she muttered.

And you realized that maybe, just maybe, the Isle wasn't so dark after all. One of them almost came from it. Love had found you in the unlikeliest of places—in the arms of a villain's daughter and a scarred hero.

As you recovered, you vowed to protect this fragile connection, to let it bloom like a forgotten flower pushing through the cracks.

And so, hidden in their dorms, surrounded by whispers of magic and the warmth of two hearts, you healed.

Chloe and Red became your anchors, and you, their shared secret—the missing piece that completed their fractured souls.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @cyb3r-st4r @heartsfromcoco @angeliangelo @judgment-days-kid

[metal-mouse]

Because You're Mine

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC (m/f pairing)

themes: smut. troping tropeily. ye olde patch him up and then bang him.

warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. p in v. unprotected sex. fingering. horrendous pull out game. possessive!Ominis. someone threatens to dose you with a love potion. blood. mentions of violence. everyone is aged up.

summary: 3.9k word count. You are most surprised to see Ominis Gaunt return to you with a broken nose and a black eye from a fight. He's being awfully cryptic about who he got into a fight with, until you've finished healing him and he confesses why he's so upset.

note: Had a dream about this recently and decided to share it as a treat and also sometimes the best way to break through writer's block is to lean on the tropiest of tropes. Come get y'all juice. left MC house as ambiguous - I'm very Slytherin coded my b. i take liberties on what kind of undergarments they wear. Not an ounce of editing to be found.

@anto-pops @localravenclaw look guys i finished it

You didn’t look up from your book as the door to the Room of Requirement groaned open. There were only two people who knew of this room besides you, and as Professor Weasley hadn’t stepped foot in it since your fifth year, that left only one person. 

“Hello Ominis.” You called out your greeting, nearing the end of the page. He didn’t respond, which made you look up. You dropped the book and sat up straight at the sight of him. His cheeks were pink, there was a gash on the bridge of his nose which was steadily dripping blood, and one of his eyes was beginning to swell shut. Worry filled you, as your mind went to all of the worst case scenarios for what could have caused this. You stood up and hurried towards him, urging him to sit down on the sofa you had just been occupying. 

“Hello.” He said finally, in a dejected voice. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, a table appearing next to you with a bowl of water and some cloths. You very gently took his jaw in your hands as you tilted his head up to inspect his wounds. The cut on his nose was deep, and now that you were up close you could see his nose was slightly crooked. His pain was very evident, and his frown likely wasn’t making it any better. 

“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.” Ominis hissed as you turned his head to get a better look at his eye. You were fairly certain his cheekbone wasn’t broken, which was more than you could say for his poor nose. 

“What happened?” You asked, ignoring his irritated sarcasm. If anything, it only suggested to you that he was fine beyond the wounds on his face and possibly a bruised ego. You weren’t sure if you had the skill to repair his nose. In the last year, you’d taken to spending more time in the hospital wing with Nurse Blainey. You’d assisted her during a detention once, and she had been more than happy to show you some of the healing arts. You knew the spell… perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try? 

“I got into a fight.” He said, skirting around your question. 

“Well, obviously. I would love some detail, if you’re willing to provide. When Sebastian comes around all beat up like this it makes sense, but you mostly keep your hands to yourself,” You said while taking one of the cloths and gently pressing it to his nose, “hold that. I’m out of wiggenweld, I’m going to brew some.” His hand replaced yours as he held the cloth to staunch the blood dripping from his nose. You looked down at his uniform. His shirt and tie were covered in blood.

“Is detail truly important? I was in a fight, and now I’m here.” Ominis’ voice was muffled from the cloth. You poured some water into the cauldron atop your potions station. He was usually very open with you, content to tell you all of his deepest thoughts. Somewhere deep in your mind you wondered if this fight had somehow been caused by you. He had gone to Hogsmeade today with Sebastian, and Rookwood’s Ashwinders still tried to prey on you. You prepared your Horklump juice and Dittany leaves, waiting for the water in the cauldron to begin bubbling. It was strange that he would keep something like that from you, even if he didn’t want you to worry. 

“It’s clearly bothering you a lot, Ominis.” You said softly. He made an angry noise and didn’t respond. Now that the cauldron was bubbling, you added the ingredients and stirred the correct amount of times. You turned away to let it brew until it was ready, and returned to Ominis’ side. You wordlessly took the cloth from him and pulled it aside. It was drenched in blood, but it had mostly stopped the bleeding coming from both his nostrils and the gash on the bridge of his nose. 

“Ouch!” He hissed as you reached up and gently poked at his nose. 

“Stay still. It’s broken. Does anything else hurt?” You mumbled, climbing into his lap and holding his face steady with one hand. You fumbled for your wand, and he let out a little panicked breath and shook his head a little.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his good eye widening slightly.

“The Wiggenweld can’t straighten a broken nose. Don’t move. Episkey!” You said. He yelped as his nose cracked back into its normal position and the gash healed. You nodded in approval, pleased that the spell had worked. You’d never cast it beyond Nurse Blainey’s watchful eye. 

“There. I bet you can breathe a little better now.” You said, removing yourself from his lap to check on your potion. Ominis took a long, very audible breath. You watched him as he reached up and felt his nose. He looked absolutely miserable. Your lips pressed together in a frown, it was worrying how little information he was willing to divulge. 

“Have you seen Sebastian?” He asked. 

“No, I thought he was with you.” You said, scooping some of your completed wiggenweld potion into a glass. Anxiety briefly pulsed in your chest, worrying that whoever had attacked Ominis had also gotten Sebastian. No. He wouldn’t have come to you unless he knew Sebastian was safe. 

“He never met me. Must be with Violet.” He snorted, sounding absolutely furious with his friend. You tilted your head, making a small sound of agreement. Violet McDowell was Sebastian’s particular flavour this week after you’d forbidden him from asking Poppy Sweeting on a date. You had promised him swift and painful retribution if he had even looked at Poppy without the intent of marrying her and loving her forever. 

“Here. Drink this.” You said, handing Ominis the glass full of wiggenweld. You crouched in front of him, a hand on his knee balancing him as he drank. The bruising around his eye faded, and he sighed with relief as he set down the now empty glass. You stayed crouched before him, your fingers drumming on his knee as a sign that you would love an explanation. 

“You really can’t just let it go?” He asked. 

“I’m sorry, I’m worried. It’s frightening when you get hurt.” You squeezed his knee a little. He let out a little sight, his frown softening.

“No, please don’t apologize. It should be me apologizing, I can see how someone arriving covered in blood would be worrying - especially for you.” He put his hand over yours. You stood then, setting your wand to the side as you settled down beside him. 

“If you really don’t want to tell me what happened, please just tell me if this is going to be a recurring problem.” You said in compromise, taking his hand again. He looked deep in thought, clearly battling with his inner thoughts.

“I heard two sixth-years plotting about how they were going to slip you a love potion.” Ominis said finally. You blinked in surprise. Out of everything that could have come out of his mouth, that had been the one you least expected. 

“A love potion?” You echoed. He nodded, and you admired the rage on his face. He’d fought two boys purely because they wanted to give you a love potion. You fought the smile spreading on your lips. For someone who was awfully composed, he was certainly prone to his jealous moments. 

“Yes. A love potion. They’re lucky I haven’t gone directly to the Headmaster. I should have them both expelled.” He sneered. Your face went hot at the arrogance in his voice. You leaned in, loosening his bloody tie and tossing it to the side.

“You’re covered in blood.” You informed him. He wasn’t really listening to you at all, instead he was caught up in his own rage. You took that opportunity to unbutton his shirt so you could remove it and try to clean the blood off. 

“Foolish, impudent worms. Gryffindors always think they’re entitled to that which is not theirs.” He pulled his arms out of the sleeves when you tugged on his shirt. He may not have been paying attention to you, but you were hanging onto his every word. That which is not theirs? That statement certainly held some heavy implications. You were grateful he’d stepped in of course, love potions were risky and you did prefer to make your own decisions.

 Ominis continued his monologue, describing precisely what he had done to the Gryffindor boys for their crime. You took a clean cloth and dampened it to wipe the blood off his neck and chest. He’d been exceptionally cruel to the boys, and every word he spoke had your heart beating faster. It was becoming difficult to pay attention to your cleaning. He’d taken their threat personally, and had essentially destroyed them for it. Broken their wands, hanging them upside down from a tree, blackened eyes, he had truly done a number on them. Out of your little trio he was widely regarded as the most peaceful, with Sebastian being the most violence-prone and you falling somewhere between the two. He was incredibly protective of you, something you’d discovered even when your friendship had only just begun to bloom. 

His hand closed around your wrist suddenly, and you realized you had stopped moving. You looked at his face, his hair was a mess, his cheeks were still pink, and he held an expression you’d never seen before. You were suddenly desperate to break the silence. His other hand lifted to your cheek, his fingers delicately tracing along your jawline. 

“They can’t have you.” He whispered, his fingers moved down your neck slowly. Your breath hitched at this display of possessive intimacy that you had never seen before. You and Ominis had your fair share of intimate moments, but this? Never anything like this. This was an entirely new side to him. It was something you’d expect of Sebastian, the man who moped over girls he’d barely been involved with for longer than a week, but never Ominis. You didn’t know what to say. When you had first crossed that border between friendship and something more, it had been relatively laid back. You went for walks together, bought each other sweets and butterbeers from Hogsmeade, and spent late nights in each other’s arms in the Room of Requirement or the Undercroft. This change was almost as unexpected as its impact on you. You knew deep down that this should not be making you so aroused.  

“Where has thi–'' You were cut off when Ominis leaned in and kissed you. You dropped the cloth from your hand as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. You draped one arm behind his neck, and rested the palm of your other on his cheek with your fingers in his hair as you matched his passion. It wasn’t rough, so much as it was claiming. His cold hands pressed against the skin of your back making you gasp and arch against him. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving so sinfully your core was steadily aching now. You knew precisely what that tongue was capable of, and you’d grown to anticipate it. Dream about it even. 

His rapidly warming fingers stroked your sides as he brought them under your front and withdrew them from your shirt entirely. As Ominis began to unbutton your shirt, you began to lightly rock your hips to create some friction between you and the bulge in his trousers. He let out a low groan and proceeded to rip your shirt open. Your eyes snapped open as you sat back a little bit in surprise, but he pulled you back against him with a single tug of your shirt. His hands went to your chest, and he let out a dark laugh against your mouth when he felt only skin. You weren’t wearing anything under your shirt. His mouth lowered and he left hot, wet kisses and little nips down your jaw and onto your neck. You couldn’t contain the small moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips. 

Ominis’ tongue ran along your collar, and his hands roamed to your backside where he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up more. The hand you had in his hair shot to the back of the sofa to brace yourself. You cried out as he bit down on the side of your breast. His tongue delicately swiped out licking the hurt he’d just caused. He held you up with one arm, his other hand running along your backside and between your legs. The fabric of your trousers was disappointingly thick, and you felt far too constrained while wearing them. His hand moved to cup your breast as he swirled his tongue over your sensitive nipple. He stopped suddenly, his hands falling to your waist as he pushed you back slightly. 

“Take off your trousers.” He commanded. The bark in his voice sent a wave of heat to your core. You stood up, fumbling with the buttons before finally pushing them down. He reached out and made a sound of displeasure when his hands ran over your underwear. He hooked his thumbs in the waistline and yanked them down. You stepped out of your trousers and undergarments, and Ominis checked to make sure you’d done precisely what he had wanted. He made no move to remove his trousers. You stared at his bulge desperate to see him undressed. It wasn’t fair that you were now bare in front of him, and he was still half-dressed. 

“I want to taste you.” You pleaded in an attempt to get him to take his trousers off. 

“As reluctant as I am to deny you, don’t you think you’ve taken enough care of me today?” Ominis’ lips twisted into an arrogant smile, as he turned you around and pulled you back. You fell into his lap. One of his arms looped around you pulling you back against his chest. His lips pressed to your neck, leaving kisses and small bites all along the smooth column. He pushed your legs open wide, biting down hard on the flesh of your shoulder. You cried out, your eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable pain. One hand ran along the inside of your thigh, and the other stayed planted on your belly. 

“Those fools think they could have this. That they could have what is mine.” His breath was hot on your neck. You whined as his hand stroking your thigh got closer and closer to where you wanted it. 

“Please Ominis.” You complained when his fingers brushed next to your wet and aching center but he didn’t touch it. Your lip curled, two could play at this game. You began to rotate your hips slowly, grinding down on the bulge in his pants. Your hands covered his and you moved them to where you wanted them to be. One between your legs on your heat, the other cupping your breast. He huffed out a laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chided. 

“I thought you wanted to prove I’m yours.” Now this spurred him on. Without warning he curled two fingers inside of you. Your back arched as you let out a gasp and Ominis began to pump his long fingers deep inside of you, ensuring the heel of his palm pressed against your clit while he worked. While his fingers curled against your sweet spot, you shamelessly rutted against his palm to elevate you even higher into ecstasy. 

“Is that better, darling?” He asked, nibbling on the back of your ear. 

“Uh huh.” You moaned, nodding your head. You wished you could kiss him. You wanted to face him and have him buried deep inside of you. You would have turned around if this didn’t feel so fucking good. There was something about him being in complete control and doing what he wanted with you. You weren’t even tied up, yet you felt useless to do anything to pleasure him beyond grinding against his bulge. There was a tantalizing pressure building inside of you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Ominis seemed to have realized as he pressed further into you and his fingers kept up the exact same pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat. 

“Right there?” He asked. You nodded against him, unable to form a coherent thought. You writhed against him, pressing his palm hard against your clit. Your eyes squeezed shut as you fell over the edge and bolts of pleasure made your toes curl. You let out a sinful scream that may have been his name. Ominis didn’t stop, letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand until your knees clamped together and he withdrew. You were a panting mess as he gently guided you to lay on your back. You heard the sound of his belt hitting the ground, and you opened your eyes and watched him pull down his trousers. You moaned at the sight of his cock springing free, delightfully pink and large. 

Ominis knelt on the couch between your knees, lowering himself over you. Impatient and greedy, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to press your lips to his. You were hungry for him, your tongue swiping over his bottom lip prompting him to open up for you. You were certain the way he tasted would stay with you for the rest of your life, so damn sweet and addicting. Reaching down, you gently wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it with your entrance. Slowly, Ominis pressed into you with a low moan. You were distracted from your kiss at the feeling of his cock filling you up. He always went slow when he started, knowing it drove you crazy. Once he was sheathed fully inside of you, he stayed completely still aside from the hand that laced in your hair lifting your head again to press a sweet kiss against your lips. 

“I’ve always been yours.” You whispered as his forehead rested against yours. His eyes snapped open at this, his fingers curling so he was pulling your hair. He ground into you, and you choked on a moan. Ominis pulled out nearly all the way and slammed back into you with a husky groan. He hooked his free arm behind your knee, pushing your leg up and out of the way as he settled into a slow and steady rhythm. 

“Of course you have. I fit s-so perfectly, it’s like you were made for me.” The little stammer in his sentence made your heart flutter. You gasped when Ominis rolled his hips forward deepening his thrusts. Your nails scraped across his shoulders as your mind was overtaken by pleasure and thoughts of him. The moans and small praises that came as a steady stream from his mouth paired with his cock hitting every angle inside of you had you on a high you didn’t think possible. 

You arched your back in an attempt to let him deeper inside of you. Despite being connected at your most intimate part, you wanted more. You wanted inside of his heart, inside of his soul. Through your pleasure, you opened your eyes to look upon his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, his mouth hung open and his skin completely flushed, his hair an absolute mess. You loved it. Without warning, Ominis picked up the pace slamming into you without restraint. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders now, forcing him down to kiss you. His arms wrapped around your waist arching your back even further and changing the angle which he fucked into you. Between the feeling of his lips on yours, and his cock inside your already sensitive cunt, you were rapidly tumbling towards another orgasm. When Ominis took one hand from under you and reached down to rub circles on your swollen clit, your head fell back.

“Come.” Ominis ordered, and you didn’t even have it in you to scream this time. Ominis muttered a string of curse words as your walls clenched around him and you rose up to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder. It was almost painful how hard he had made you come, and some primal part of you needed him to share in that feeling. He kept his steady pace, not faltering once as he chased his own pleasure with a great moan. The hand that had been rubbing you clamped around your neck and squeezed. You watched him and saw in his face he was close. You met his thrusts, matching his rhythm. His chest heaved and a light sheen of sweat had formed across his body. In that moment you were certain that it wouldn’t matter if someone gave you a love potion, Ominis was all you’d be able to see. 

“Yours, Ominis.” You whispered, incapable of telling him truly what you were thinking. His fingers dug into you and his grip on your neck tightened. Almost there. You watched in awe as his head dropped and he let out a guttural groan that slightly resembled your name. His cock twitched and his body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you with shallow thrusts. Ominis’ hand let go of your throat, and he collapsed on top of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you wrapped your arms around him holding him tight to your chest. You pressed kisses to the top of his head and he let out a wordless groan. After a few moments passed, Ominis slowly pulled out leaving you feeling empty.

“We should have conjured a bed.” He mumbled. You let out a little laugh as one appeared next to the sofa. Ominis rolled over, taking you with him so that you were laying on his chest instead of him atop of you. You knew that you should get up and probably clean yourself off, but with his arms around you and your genuine concern about your ability to stand, you were content to just stay. 

“Maybe you should get into more fights.” You sighed, reveling in the lovely feelings of your afterglow. He laughed, gently rubbing your back.

“If men don’t learn how to behave, I just might.” He said. You could do without him getting injured, but if this was how he reacted when he was jealous or feeling possessive? You could definitely get behind that. 

“I’ll be here when you do.” You sighed, thinking about how you should really restock on your wiggenweld potions. 

“And, for the foreseeable future, I will be tasting your food and drink before you.” Ominis said, making you snort. 

“What am I, the Queen of England? I don’t need a food taster, Ominis, if anything I’ll just start carrying around an antidote to love potions.” You told him.

“You can be my Queen.” He grinned at you.

“You’re not allowed to speak with Sebastian anymore, he’s rubbing off on you.” You sat up a little bit to get a better angle as you looked down at his face. 

“That’s your job, Darling.” 

“My point has been proven.” You smiled widely at the sound of his laughter. When you were with Ominis is when you were happiest. You were safe, comfortable, and content. You were in love, and you were his.

[chamomilewrittingblock]

Solo Leveling Brainrots

Fellow Jinwoo Simps I need your thoughts and opinion!! Also MASSIVE brainrot warning!!!

QUESTION: How do you think Jinwoo would react to his partner questioning his taste in lovers? (ie. Being interested in Reader themselves)

How id imagine the confession would go: Jinwoo, pre-awakening: I like you *holds bouquet of flowers Reader, confused: um! *looks around to see if he's talking to someone behind them before pointing at themselves confused*... me? Jinwoo: Yes, You. Reader, Shocked: oh! Um... I like you too... but *hesitates* are you sure? About me??

The feeling is mutual!!! It's just his lover doesn't have alot of confidence in themselves. Or any confidence into getting a romance with anyone, let alone Jinwoo!! Reader feels like they have ZERO RIZZ (reader has enough rizz to woo Jinwoo so...).

Like would he hype them up???? Mayhaps but in subtle ways though I'd imagine🤔🤔. You think he'd be extra affectionate when reader gets shy??? Would this differ pre and post awakening?? (I imagine Jinwoo and reader wouldn't want the relationship public due to safety since hes a hunter and all)

AND WHAT ABOUT HIS POST AWAKENING GLOWUP AND THE FANS!!! READERS ALREADY SHY BUT THE TABLOID EVENTUALLY CHIPS AT THE SLOWLY BUILT CONFIDENCE JINWOO HELPED BUILD.

OHMYGOSH WHAT ABOUT THE TABLOIDS WITH CHA HAE-IN???? WOULD HE GET WORRIED SINCE READER MIGHT GET INSECURE OR JUST KINDA SAD???

WHAT IF READER TELLS HIM THAT HE DESERVES BETTER, BELIVJNG THAT READWR DOESNT DESERVE HIS LOVE?? AAAA OUCHHHH.. I GUESS HE HAS TO STAY WITH READER AND REMIND THEM OF HIS UNWAVERING LOVE WITH CUDDLES AND QUALITY TIME DJBDBFIDN

(reader is Jinwoo's ride-or-die, the monarch of his heart and soul, the love reader gives him is like comfort of warm soup at the end of the day, the kind that soothes even the deepest of wounds. Reader's love is also a drug, one that he cant get enough of. If he loses reader, Jinwoo would go insane.)

AUDBUDBDIBD HOLY!!!! WOULD HE GET PISSED ABOUT IT AND ENDS UP GETTING CLINGY IF CRAZY SHIPPERS TRYING TO PUT READER IN DANGER IE. SENDING A MONSTER READER'S WAY BECAUSE OF THEM BEING A "THREAT" TO THEIR SHIP (HIM AND CHA HAE-IN)??? I MEAN LIKE GUIDE THE MONSTER SPECIFICALLY AWAY FROM THE DUNGEON TO READERS LOCATION TOO. (TO THE EXTENT THAT ITS CLEARLY FOUL PLAY)

LIKE THANK THE MONARCHS THAT READER HAD SHADOWS ASSIGNED AND MAYBE WAS DECENTLY RANKED AFTER AWAKENING BUT IT COULD HAVE ENDED AWFUL IF THE FATES WERENT ON READERS SIDE!!

WOULD HIS ARMY GET PROTECTIVE TOO?? IGRIS??? BERU??? LIKE HOW DARE THESE FOOLS HARM THEIR MONARCHS BELOVED?!?!?!? 😡😡EVEN WORSE IS IF READER WORMED THEIR WAY INTI THEIR HEARTS BY GENUINELY GETTING TO KNOW THEM SO ITS PERSONAL NOW TOO!!

Reader has to calm down not only a PISSED jinwoo but his Shadows too (mainly Jinwoo though)!! And maybe being the only reason Jinwoo hadn't gone on a rampage after everything setted. Was he bribed with a heated makout session and plenty of cuddles afterwards to temper his rage and soothe his anxiety, yes. Did it work??? Probably. If it did??That's none of our buisness.

Id imagie Cha Hae-in would feel bad™ if they found out about Jinwoo and reader (just assuming the two being best friends)?? Being like "oh shit someone, a civilian no less, almost died because of her fans" Even worse if later on she learns that they're together aaaaa

But like seriously, what a messed up reminder of the power S-Rank Hunter have on the media. Yes, they know about their celebrity status affecting what they can or can't do but like this??? A whole different level, because yes, people targeting other?? Awful? Yes, but its fine. Using a MONSTER FROM A DUNGEON to target a CIVILIAN?? This is a whole new level of messed up.

Would the other S-ranks and National-ranked hunters feel like kinda bad too once they hear about it??

what the fuck??? For the following reasons:

No one deserves that

Its a civilian going against fans that are most likely hunters, the very individuals hunters are ment to protect from monsters ever since the dungeons appeared

THE HUNTERS USED A HIGH RANKED MONSTER TO TARGET A CIVILIAN (the mutual enemy internationally)

this was all done because PEOPLE BEING ENTITLMENT OF THE RELATIONSHIPS OF THE S-RANK HUNTERS.

This is furthur solidified and makes the WHOLE DEBACHLE worse because only EXPERIENCED hunters would have the knowledge and experince to be able to lure a monster from a dungeon break to a specific location, especially if reader wasn't even near the dungeon in the first place.

(For anyone who's read this all the way, thanks for reading my silly thoughts!)

[chvoswxtch]

part two: the secret

[series masterlist] | [part one] | [part three]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: if the police can't help, who can you turn to?

warnings: swearing, heavy angst, mentions of murder, conversation about past domestic abuse, mentions of alcohol, billy once again being a cocky lil shit

word count: 3.8k

a/n: y'all never fail to blow me away with how lovely & kind y'all are. i'm so happy you're all enjoying spooky slutty season so far. it's getting heavier in this chapter, but we're one step closer to the goods. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Annie was looking at you in a mixture of concern and apprehension. When she heard your scream piercing through the silence of the apartment, she’d immediately rushed into your bedroom, where she’d found you on your knees on the floor, hyperventilating as panicked tears rushed down your cheeks. She had desperately begged you to tell her what happened, but you couldn’t speak through your choked sobs. You just kept pointing to your phone that was face down on the hardwood, but when she picked it up, she didn’t see anything except your lock screen.

For the past twenty minutes, you’d been sitting on the edge of your bed, almost completely catatonic. It felt as though your body had gone into shock and just completely shut down. Your brain seemed to slip into a mental panic room, locking itself away behind steel soundproof walls those traumatic memories couldn’t break through. But you knew you couldn’t stay there, as badly as you wanted to. You had to come out, and you had to come clean.

Annie slowly reached out and placed her hand on top of one of yours that was in your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me.”

A fresh wave of helplessness built up along your bottom lash line, and your voice was weakened with defeat when you finally spoke.

“He found me.”

Annie tilted her head to the side slightly as she looked at you, a crease of confusion forming between her dark brows.

“Who found you Y/N?”

Closing your eyes, stray tears slipped down your damp cheeks. You had hoped this day would never come. The fear of your past catching up to you had been in the back of your mind for the last three years, but you never thought it would rear its ugly head in such a horrific way. Letting out a shaky breath, you opened your glossy eyes and turned to look at Annie in despondency.

“I need to tell you something.”

You hadn’t told a soul the truth about who you were since you moved to New York. No one here knew that you’d come here to completely start over with a brand new identity. No one knew what you had run from. You thought it was safer that way. 

Annie looked at you warily, her dark brown eyes searching your own as she waited for you to speak.

“My real name is Cassia. I’m not from New York, I was born in California. I grew up there. I…I do have a family. I lied about that. But I haven’t seen or spoken to them in three years.”

“I don’t understand-”

“I had a boyfriend. He-”

Closing your eyes, you felt your anxiety start to crest again. For the past three years, you tried so hard to push it out of your head. You told yourself that was someone else, that those memories belonged to someone else. You weren’t her anymore. That girl…she was gone. You’d burned every trace of her and rose from the ashes someone new. Those painful memories, those emotional scars, you’d buried them in the deepest, darkest part of your mind, but they wouldn’t stay dead.

Annie’s puzzlement broke apart into sympathy as she heard the grief in your voice. She could see it in your eyes, the reason behind your painful secret. She gave your hand a light and reassuring squeeze, speaking in a gentle voice.

“Was he…?”

Swallowing the lump that had lodged in your throat, you nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

Letting out a shuddering breath, a few more tears slipped down your face as you ripped open your own wounds that had never seemed to heal, letting all the lingering shame and sorrow bleed out.

“I should’ve left the first time it happened. I knew it then. I just…I didn’t want to believe it had happened. I didn’t want to believe that I was like those other women…that I was like my mother. I knew what an angry man looked like. I knew how he spoke, and how he acted, and what his footsteps sounded like. I told myself that was never going to be me, you know? It wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I…I knew better. I watched my mom go through so many of them, I knew what the signs looked like, and I just…I missed them somehow…and then I ignored it. I made excuses, I tried so hard to convince myself…that it was different…that I was different.”

You never wanted to be a victim, and you never thought you would be. For the first nine months, Roman had been an almost perfect boyfriend. He was sweet, and funny, and he always looked at you like you were the only person in the room, even from the beginning. He always knew exactly what to say, and what to do, and you had thought you’d found someone that just…understood you, in a way no one else ever had. He was just so incredibly goddamn charming.

But most psychopaths are.

He’d lured you into a false sense of security, manipulated you into letting your guard down, and you’d foolishly gifted him your trust. He didn’t just break that, he broke you.

Roman’s apologies were always so sincere, and you got trapped in the cycle. He would confess to his problems, promise to get help and stop drinking, and swore things would change. And it would, for a while. The calm before the storm was so peaceful, you couldn’t see the ominous clouds darkening over your head. He swore that he loved you, but his version of love was controlling and manipulative, and it was intense. It became obsessive and violent, and his volatile temper left your heart and spirit maimed and your body bruised. He said that he loved hard, but he hit harder. 

The night you finally decided to leave him was the night that permanently altered everything. It didn’t just change your life, it changed you.

“The last time I saw him, he almost killed me. Our neighbors had heard me screaming. They were the ones that called the police. I had already blacked out when they arrived. I woke up in the hospital with a concussion and a crushed windpipe. And you know what’s fucking crazy? He only did two months in jail, because it was his ‘first offense’.”

A bitter and dry laugh left your lips that sounded more like a scoff. You’d been too terrified to feel anger back then. At that time, all you could feel was immense relief that he was locked away somewhere that he couldn’t get to you. But now, anger was all that you felt. The more you thought about the situation, the more white hot searing rage had the blood in your veins sizzling. 

“I got a restraining order, but it didn’t stop him. The only reason I was even able to get it was because the cops walked in on him choking me to death. As soon as he got out of jail, he was back. And he didn’t just threaten me, he threatened everyone around me. I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do, so I ran. I ran as far away as I could get. I changed my name, I changed everything about myself, and I started over. I had to cut everyone out from my old life in Woodsboro, to keep them safe.”

Three years ago, you’d just vanished. The terror he instilled in your bones had run deep into the marrow. You couldn’t even say goodbye to anyone. All you’d been able to part with was a hastily written note containing a heartfelt apology to your mother, and you’d fled to sanctuary across the country. New York was home to millions of people, and you thought you’d be safe as a ghost in the bustling streets. You thought you could be invisible.

“I just…I don’t even know how he found me. I’ve been careful, I haven’t told anyone about this. I just…I don’t understand. And now Adam’s dead-”

“Wait, you think he killed Adam?”

“He told me he did. He was the one who called me on the phone. I know it was him. His voice was different…but he said my name, Annie. My real name.”

Annie was staring at you in a mixture of shock, fear, and a hint of pity. You hated that look. You hated being on the receiving end of it. And you hated that you were now a dangerous burden, a liability to her otherwise peaceful life. If you weren’t safe, that meant she wasn’t safe, and you could see in her eyes that she knew that. As she glanced down at your phone, you could see her swallow thickly. 

“We need to go to the police.”

»»———　　———««

“What do you mean you can’t do anything? Did you hear any of what I just said?”

“Miss Y/L/N, the restraining order is in California, and it’s not under your current name.”

Detective Craven met your incredulous gaze with an expression of pity. His partner, however, did not share his condolences.

“Why didn’t you mention this two days ago?”

Turning your attention to Detective Williamson, the outrage you felt at his underlying accusation was clear on your face and in your sharp tone.

“Because it’s not your fucking business. You told me Adam got mugged-”

“We theorized it was a robbery gone wrong-”

“Theorized, confirmed, what fucking difference does it make? Those were your words. You said that’s what happened, so I had no reason to think it was connected to my psychotic ex boyfriend, who now not only knows where I am, but fucking called me to confess to murdering Adam. And now, you’re telling me you can’t do a goddamn thing about it because of, what? Red fucking tape?”

Detective Craven raised both of his worn hands in a placating gesture as he looked between you and his partner.

“Okay, okay. Let’s just take it down a notch.”

He shot his partner a warning glare, and Detective Williamson held his hands up in a show of surrender as he let out an irritated exhale through his nose. Turning his attention back to you, Detective Craven placed his hands on his hips.

“Miss Y/L/N, listen to me. I don’t want you to think we’re not taking this seriously, alright? Unfortunately, our hands are tied though. We don’t have any evidence from the crime scene, and the call on your phone came from an unknown number. We don’t have anything concrete to link this to Roman Walker.”

Just hearing his name out loud for the first time in three years was enough to make you feel like someone had just pressed the steel tip of a cold blade to the back of your neck. Detective Craven could see the raw paranoia in your eyes and the way you physically reacted to Roman’s name. Letting out a deep sigh, he reached out and placed both of his hands on your shoulders and spoke in a calming voice.

“Y/N, you did the right thing coming to us. You gave us a suspect with a motive, that gives us a lot to work with now, alright? Just because we don’t have any evidence right now doesn’t mean we won’t find any. Now we know who we’re potentially looking for, and that’s a step in the right direction. So please, trust me when I say that I will do everything I can to keep you safe. Until then, please just be careful.”

You rubbed both of your palms down your face in a stressful manner, a deep exhale of frustration blowing through your flared nostrils. Throwing your hands up in exasperation, they both dropped to your sides with a light smack against your jeans as your body physically deflated.

“So what am I supposed to do? Wait for another threatening phone call? Another person near me to get killed?”

“Just take some precautions. Be vigilant, don’t go anywhere alone, maybe look into a security system in the meantime.”

A light scoff left your lips at his suggestions and you shook your head in complete disbelief. As you stormed out of Detective Craven’s office, you slammed the door shut behind you with a little more force than necessary at your exit. Annie quickly jumped up from where she’d been sitting outside, looking at you warily.

“What did they say?”

“To go fuck myself, essentially.”

Meeting Annie’s disapproving look, you sighed and placed one of your hands on your hip while your other ran through your hair stressfully.

“There’s no evidence, they can’t trace an unknown call, and the restraining order isn’t in my name or in this state.”

“You’re fucking kidding me. So that’s it?”

“Yeah, their advice was pretty much to do everything I already do as a woman just existing.”

Annie let out a frustrated exhale of her own, glaring at the door of the detective’s office before brushing her golden blonde hair away from her shoulder and crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, fuck that. We’re gonna figure something out.”

In the midst of your outrage at the situation, one of Detective Craven’s suggestions suddenly stood out in your head.

“Maybe look into a security system in the meantime.”

You didn’t know anything about security or even where to start, but you knew someone who did.

“Actually, I think I know who can help.”

»»———　　———««

“You know, four months is a hell of a long time to make a guy wait for a second date.”

Glancing up from your drink, you watched as Billy took a seat at the bar next to you, flashing you his signature charming smirk. Rolling your eyes, you fought to contain your amusement as you lifted the beer bottle to your lips.

“That was not a date, and this isn’t one either.”

Billy let out a deep chuckle, signaling the bartender over with a wave of his hand.

“Hey, you called me. And, you brought me back to the place we first met. That’s pretty romantic, even if this is a shitty dive bar. ”

Billy turned on the bar stool to face you, a glint of mischief in his dark brown eyes as the edge of his lips curled into a smirk. Giving him a quick once over, you noticed he was dressed a lot more casually. You almost swore it was the exact same outfit he’d worn the night you met him.

“I thought someone as high maintenance as you would be a lot harder to please.”

Shaking his head at your quip, Billy grinned as he brought his own beer to his lips.

“Careful, you keep sweet talkin’ me like that, I might think you actually like me.”

“Oh well we can’t have that.”

Your lips were spread in a faint teasing smirk as you took another sip of your beer. Billy set the bottle down on the bar, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He eyed you curiously as he gave you his full attention.

“Alright, so if this isn’t a date, what is it then?”

Your eyes flickered towards Billy’s before glancing down at the green glass bottle in your hand. The edge of the gold label was peeling on the top right corner, and you gently smoothed it down with your thumb, spreading a drop of condensation over the cold glass.

“What kind of security does Anvil do? I mean, I know it’s mostly military stuff, but…what about private protection for civilians?”

Billy’s amusement quickly faded into a more serious expression at your question. He didn’t miss the way your voice had become quieter, no trace of your usual dry sarcasm or sharp wit. He cocked his head to the side slightly, noticing that you wouldn’t look at him.

“What’s going on, Y/N?”

“I was just curious-”

“C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve never spared my feelin’s before, don’t start now. Talk to me.”

Turning your head to look at Billy reluctantly, you got a glimpse of the Marine that lingered dormant within him, hidden beneath the designer clothes and CEO title. Serious Billy was a completely different Billy. The intensity of his stare was almost unsettling. You weren’t sure what to do with this version of him. A part of you secretly longed for the cocky smartass side in this moment, wishing he’d slip another flirty quip into the conversation to bring levity to the heaviness settling in your chest.

He had a point though, you’d always been blunt with him, and if he was going to help you, you were going to have to tell him everything.

Glancing down at the bottle in your hands again, you let out a deep sigh of resignation. At least with Billy, you didn’t have to pull your punches. You didn’t have to dance around your words and take caution with how you laid this all out, not like you had to with Annie. Lifting your head, you turned to look at him again.

“No bullshit?”

Billy gave you a faint nod of his head, confirming that he wanted nothing but the raw, honest truth.

“No bullshit.”

Waving over the bartender, you ordered two double shots of tequila. You needed a little liquid courage to ease your nerves, and to ease the shake of anxiety in your voice. Billy watched you in curiosity tinged with concern as you downed the first with unnerving ease and set the empty shot glass down on the bar before turning to look at him again. The burn flowing down your throat and into the pit of your stomach like molten lava was a welcome distraction from the chilled fear that made your hands tremble. 

“Alright. Adam was murdered by my ex boyfriend, who’s the sole reason I moved across the country three years ago and changed my whole identity. He called me last night and confessed, but the police can’t do anything, because apparently they can’t trace an unknown call. Oh, and they can’t do anything about my obsessive stalker turned murderer ex boyfriend, because New York’s finest doesn’t have any fucking evidence, and my restraining order, which only ever seemed to be a really goddamn expensive piece of paper that meant nothing, can’t be enforced because we’re not in California, and it’s filed under my real name. So basically, I’m fucked.”

Downing the second shot, your face scrunched slightly as the clear alcohol started to burn in your lower stomach, the heat rising to flush in your cheeks. It made you feel a little lighter, melting that solid block of terror that had been weighing you down. Setting the glass down harshly on the bar, you licked the remaining tequila off your lips and turned to look at Billy, arching one of your brows.

“Questions? Comments? Concerns? More tequila?”

Billy’s dark brows rose slightly up his forehead as he stared at you silently for a moment. Whatever he was thinking or feeling, you couldn’t tell. 

“So, just to…make sure we’re on the same page here…you have a psychotic ex that forced you to move across the country, change your name, and he’s the reason the guy you went out with is dead. And you think you’re next.”

Blinking a few times, you opened your mouth to correct him, but there was nothing to correct. 

“That’s…a gross oversimplification, but yes.”

Taking a swig of your beer, your dark brows furrowed slightly as you set it back down and glanced at him with a faint scowl.

“I didn’t say I thought I was next though, asshole.”

“Oh, so the rant about NYPD being unhelpful and askin’ me about security for civilians is just small talk, then?”

Billy arched one of his dark brows, and the barely concealed sass in his voice made you want to slap him. As if sensing your thoughts, Billy let out a deep exhale through his nose as he regarded you with a more sympathetic expression.

“C’mon sweetheart. We agreed, no bullshit. You’re scared, and you got every reason to be. You need help, and you ain’t gettin’ it from the police.”

You had expected Billy to be far more smug about this. To bask in the fact that you needed his help, to hold it over your head, maybe even barter it for a date. It was almost a little unnerving that he was being so sincere and caring. You were just so used to him being an arrogant dick.

“I’m not gonna get on my knees and beg.”

Billy let out a light chuckle at that, giving a shake of his head before glancing at you with a familiar smirk.

“I’d never expect you to, sweetheart.”

Taking another swig of his beer, a look of contemplation crossed Billy’s sharp features.

“I guess it’s a good thing this isn’t a date then.”

Glancing at him in puzzlement, a crease formed between your brows as you set the green glass bottle down on the sticky wooden bar top.

“Why?”

Without missing a beat, Billy raised the bottle to his lips and shrugged casually.

“I’d hate to end up gutted in some alley.”

Billy had said those words so nonchalantly, with a deadpan expression on his face, that for a moment you were in shock. You should’ve been incredibly offended, or horrified by that crass comment, but instead, you were holding back a surprised laugh that threatened to escape. Your lips were puckered in an attempt to scowl as you slightly narrowed your eyes. Billy turned his head to look at you with faux innocence on his face and in his voice.

“Too soon?”

Seeing the way you were trying so hard to conceal your amusement, Billy’s lips slowly spread into a wolfish grin. Shaking your head, you brought your beer bottle to your lips to hide the way you were trying not to laugh or smile.

“You are such an asshole.”

Billy’s shoulders subtly shook as he snickered. His dark brown eyes flickered down to the green glass bottle in his left hand, and then he lifted his head to wave the bartender over again.

“Whiskey, neat.”

Turning his attention back to you, Billy could see the lingering look in your eyes that gave away how worried you truly were despite the front you were attempting to put up. He cleared his throat and leaned in a little closer, resting his arms on the bar as he gave a nod of his head in your direction and spoke calmly.

“Alright, alright. I’ll behave. Start from the beginning, tell me everything.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @nolita-fairytale @oliviaewl @r1kk @unlikelystarlightcowboy @imperihoe-writes

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[feyhunter78]

Jealously, Jealously

Couldn’t find a fanart I felt fit so have a gif!

Nerd!Miguel Masterlist

You’re not jealous, you can’t be jealous, because Miguel isn’t yours. You’re friends, study buddies, lab partners, platonic, platonic, platonic, so why do you feel so shitty watching him and this random girl—Ava she said her name was—flirting?

Maybe it’s because she’s flipping her long silky black hair over her shoulder, batting her thick naturally dark lashes up at him, laughing at his jokes with a laugh that sounds like music, and Miguel’s eating it up.

You’ve never seen Miguel so confident, and it hurts. You’ve been friends with him for ages now, and he’s never been so forward, so clearly sure of himself when he’s with you. He’s talking, leaning down to hear her better, letting her touch his arm, his chest, even his fucking neck.

You stew in silence, arms crossed, watching them from your place behind the Sig Epp letters.

You were supposed to be getting lunch, walking, and talking with Miguel, only stopping to say hello to Brett, but then this Ava girl showed up and all of a sudden, she and Miguel have to speak privately.

“What’s got you all heated?” Brett asks, bumping his shoulder into yours, joining you against the low wall, behind the giant painted letters.

They’re what four-five feet tall, painted in the Sig Epp colors, made of plywood and some other material you don’t really recognize, and don’t care to. They’re good to hide behind, and that’s what you’re doing.

“I’m not heated.” You tell him, rolling your eyes when Ava playfully squeezes Miguel’s bicep, her laugh ringing out through the courtyard.

“Tsst, ouch.” Brett says, jerking away from you dramatically, acting as if touching your shoulder burned him.

“You’re not funny.” You deadpan, averting your eyes from Miguel and onto Brett.

“I’m a little funny.” He says, “remember when I got Dr. Blevins to do that TikTok trend with me?”

“The one where you tried to guess which of the other professors in the department he hated?” You snort, turning to face him, leaning against the sun-bleached bricks.

It was pretty funny, Dr. Belvins wasn’t the nicest man on the planet, but who would’ve known he had such a hatred for Dr. Vervid? Though you shouldn’t be too surprised, there weren’t many people who liked the Organic Chemistry professor.

“See I’m funny.” Brett says, wriggling his eyebrows victoriously.

“You did one funny thing.”

He presses a hand to his heart. “You wound me y/n, truly, down to the deepest chasm of my very soul.”

“Alright, Shakespeare,” you laugh, “time to phone it in.”

Brett takes an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes but giggle. Brett is a goof, and while usually you find it all a bit ridiculous, it does the trick, the uncomfortable emotions you’re feeling lessen.

“No, but seriously, you seem upset, is everything alright?” Brett’s voice takes on a more serious tone, and he gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know we’re not close like you and Miguel, but I do consider you a friend, and if I can help, I’d like to.”

Are you crying? You think you might cry. “Shut up, why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m a nice guy, not like that, an actual nice guy, a nice person.”

You sigh and roll your neck, letting it hang to one side as you look at Brett. “I think I might be jealous?”

“Oh, of Miguel and Ava? Yeah, I see them hanging out sometimes, she’s hot.”

Gut punch.

“You’ve seen them hanging out?” You dig your nails into your palm to try and keep the emotion out of your voice. Thankfully it works.

“Sometimes, used to see them hanging out before you two got close, but it’s picked back up recently.” Brett says, casting a surprisingly subtle glance over at the dark-haired pair.

Double gut punch.

“Oh…cool.” You reach for your phone preparing to either hide in it or text Miguel and tell him you have to miss lunch, either way you’re pretty sure you’re going to start crying.

Brett snaps to attention and reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t even—I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Miguel and I are just friends, I don’t care who he hangs out with, it doesn’t matter to me.”

Totally doesn’t matter that he defended you against Kron, that he said he wanted to have a daughter with you. That you almost kissed, that he’s coming with you to the semiformal, that you eat lunch together every day during the week, totally doesn’t matter.

“Oh well...I don’t think they’re dating or anything, Miguel isn’t like that, he wouldn’t…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “He’s not the kind of guy to lead someone on.”

“I said we’re just friends. Bye Brett.” You snap, shoving your phone back in your pocket and readjusting your backpack as you speed walk in the opposite direction of Miguel. Hoping fervently that you can make it back to the Humanities Building, then to the parking lot, before he notices you’re gone.

Of course, you have no such luck, and you can hear Miguel calling out to you, then your phone lights up in your hand.

“Hey.” You say, keeping your voice calm.

“Y/N, where are you going, I thought we were getting lunch?” His voice is so sweet, so concerned, and you hate him for it.

“I forgot my next class was canceled, and I have a big essay coming up, I’m just going to go home and work on it.” You lie, digging your car keys out of your backpack.

“Oh…okay…” You can picture him, standing there all alone, looking down at his feet, clutching the strap of his backpack protectively, his voice thick with disappointment.

You hate yourself for feeling guilty, but then you remember he’s not alone, he has Ava.

“Just go eat lunch with Ava, you guys seemed pretty cozy, don’t let me interrupt.” You can’t stop the venom from dripping into your voice.

“Interrupt? Y/N, you wouldn’t be—no, I’m not—Ava is just—it’s not like that.” Clearly, the words are spilling past his lips faster than his brain can process them.

“I don’t care, go, have fun, do whatever you want.” It’s petty, and unreasonable, you know, but you’re hurt, and you want him to hurt too. You hang up and put your phone on do not disturb, slamming your car door shut and heading home as you burst into tears.

Directly connected parts are: Flowers On Your Doorstep and Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey

[babybluewoso]

Second chances in extra time (alessia russo x williamson!reader)

(note: for the sake of this story please just pretend Alessia didn't signed up with man u)

The chill of the autumn morning lingered in the air as Y/N Williamson stepped onto the training pitch at London Colney. The familiar sights and sounds of the Arsenal Women’s training ground greeted her like an old friend, but today, there was an unfamiliar tension hanging over her.

It had been years since Y/N had last seen Alessia Russo, but the memories of their time together were still as vivid as ever. They had grown up together, two football-loving kids in a small town, inseparable in every way. Y/N had been taller, stronger even then, but Alessia had always been the fierce, determined one. They balanced each other out perfectly. And somewhere along the line, between endless matches in the park and stolen moments under the stars, they had fallen in love.

But then Alessia had been offered a scholarship to play football in the United States, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that neither of them could ignore. They had tried to make it work, promising each other that distance wouldn’t change anything, but reality had other plans. The calls became less frequent, the texts shorter, and eventually, they had drifted apart. The breakup had been mutual, but the pain was anything but.

Y/N had stayed in England, following in her sister Leah’s footsteps to play for Arsenal. She had grown stronger, taller, and more skilled, but with each passing year, she had also become more reserved. The bubbly, carefree girl she had once been was now a quiet, introspective woman. She had learned to keep her emotions close, sharing her deepest thoughts only with her sister.

Leah had been her rock through everything, always there to support her, even when it meant holding her hand through the pain of losing Alessia. And now, after all these years, Alessia Russo was back, having signed with Arsenal. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread at the thought of seeing her again.

But when the day finally came, and Y/N saw Alessia for the first time on the pitch, it wasn’t the reunion she had imagined. Alessia was still as beautiful as ever, with her piercing blue eyes and golden hair, but there was a hardness to her now, a coldness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“Look who it is,” Alessia said as she approached Y/N, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The famous Williamson sister. I see you’ve bulked up a bit.”

Y/N’s heart sank at the harsh tone. She had expected awkwardness, maybe even a little tension, but not outright hostility. She forced a smile, hoping to defuse the situation. “It’s good to see you again, Less.”

Alessia’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t let it show. She had always been good at hiding her emotions, at pretending that nothing could hurt her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, looking down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Whatever,” Alessia muttered, brushing past her without another word.

Y/N watched her walk away, her chest tight with a mix of sadness and confusion. She didn’t understand why Alessia was acting this way. She had hoped that time would have healed the wounds between them, that they could at least be civil, but it seemed that Alessia was still holding onto the pain of their past.

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

As the weeks went by, Alessia’s attitude toward Y/N didn’t improve. In fact, it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Every time Y/N tried to talk to her, Alessia would respond with a snide comment or a dismissive remark. She would criticize Y/N’s performance on the pitch, belittle her efforts, and make cutting remarks about her appearance. It was like Alessia was determined to push Y/N away, to make her feel as worthless as possible.

And it was working. Y/N, who was usually so strong, found herself retreating further and further into her shell. She stopped trying to engage with Alessia, opting instead to stay quiet and avoid her whenever possible. She focused on her training, throwing herself into every drill, every exercise, hoping to drown out the pain with physical exertion.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling of loss that gnawed at her heart. She missed the Alessia she had once known—the girl who had loved her fiercely and unapologetically. The girl who had made her feel like she was enough, just as she was. But that Alessia was gone, replaced by someone who seemed to hate her.

Leah noticed the change in her sister almost immediately. She had always been protective of Y/N, and seeing her so withdrawn, so defeated, broke her heart. Leah knew that something needed to be done, but she wasn’t sure how to fix the situation. She couldn’t force Alessia to be kind, and she couldn’t make Y/N stand up for herself if she didn’t want to.

But Leah wasn’t one to give up easily. She had always been a leader, on and off the pitch, and she was determined to find a way to help her sister. She started talking to the other players, those who had been around long enough to see the change in Y/N, and together, they came up with a plan.

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

One evening after training, Leah gathered a small group of players in the locker room—Beth Mead, Kim Little, Vivianne Miedema, and Katie McCabe. They were the core of the team, the ones who had seen Y/N grow into the player she was today, and they all cared deeply for her.

“Alright, we need to talk,” Leah began, her voice serious. “It’s about Y/N and Alessia.”

Beth nodded, leaning back against the bench. “Yeah, I’ve noticed the tension between them. It’s like walking on eggshells whenever they’re in the same room.”

“Exactly,” Leah agreed. “And Y/N isn’t handling it well. She’s pulling away, and that’s not like her. She’s always been so open, so loving, but now… I don’t know. She’s just not herself.”

“She’s hurting,” Kim said softly. “And it’s clear that Alessia is the cause of it. But why? What happened between them?”

Leah sighed, running a hand through her hair. “They were together, a long time ago, before Alessia went to the States. They were childhood sweethearts, but the distance… it tore them apart. And now, I think Alessia is still in love with Y/N, but she’s angry. Angry that she still cares, angry that Y/N is here, and maybe even angry that Y/N has moved on—or at least, she thinks she has.”

“So what do we do?” Vivianne asked, crossing her arms. “We can’t just sit back and watch this happen. Y/N deserves better.”

Leah smiled, her eyes glinting with determination. “We’re going to bring them back together. We’re going to remind Alessia why she fell in love with Y/N in the first place, and show Y/N that Alessia’s anger isn’t really about her—it’s about the love she’s trying to deny.”

The others nodded in agreement, their minds already working on the details of the plan. It wouldn’t be easy, but they were determined to help Y/N and Alessia find their way back to each other. They had both suffered enough, and it was time for them to heal.

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

The first step of the plan was simple: get Y/N and Alessia alone together, away from the pitch, away from the team, and in an environment where they couldn’t avoid talking to each other. Leah suggested a team bonding night at the pub, something they hadn’t done in a while. It was the perfect excuse to get everyone together, and with a little nudging, she convinced Y/N and Alessia to come along.

The pub was cozy, with low lighting and warm wooden furnishings. The team gathered around a large table, drinks in hand, and for a while, the atmosphere was light and cheerful. Y/N sat at one end of the table, nursing her drink and trying her best to stay engaged in the conversation, but her eyes kept drifting toward Alessia, who was sitting at the other end, looking just as uncomfortable.

Leah watched them both carefully, waiting for the right moment. When the conversation lulled, she leaned forward, catching Alessia’s eye. “Hey, Less, why don’t you and Y/N go grab another round for us? I think we’re running low.”

Alessia’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her surprise with a cool nod. “Sure,” she said, standing up and glancing at Y/N. “You coming?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, but she nodded and stood up as well. “Yeah, okay.”

They walked to the bar together in silence, the tension between them almost palpable. Y/N could feel Alessia’s eyes on her, but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, unsure of what to say. She hated this—hated the awkwardness, the distance, the way Alessia made her feel like she was walking on eggshells.

As they reached the bar, Y/N cleared her throat, finally gathering the courage to speak. “Alessia, I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you. I never wanted things to be like this between us.”

Alessia didn’t respond right away. She stared at the bartender as he poured their drinks, her jaw clenched tightly. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and laced with bitterness. “You didn’t do anything, Y/N. That’s the problem.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the harshness of her words. “What do you mean?”

Alessia let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You didn’t fight for me. When I left, you just… let me go. Like I didn’t matter.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the accusation, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. Y/N’s throat tightened, a lump of guilt rising as Alessia’s words settled in. “I… I didn’t know what to do, Less. You had this amazing opportunity, and I thought—” She struggled to find her voice, every word feeling like a fragile confession. “I thought letting you go was the right thing.”

Alessia’s eyes flashed with anger as she spun to face Y/N. “The right thing? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? Leaving everything behind, leaving you behind? You didn’t even try to stop me. You just stood there, like I didn’t mean anything to you.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped at the accusation, and for the first time, she felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away quickly, refusing to let Alessia see her cry. “That’s not true, Alessia. You meant everything to me. You still do. I thought… I thought I was being selfless by not holding you back.”

Alessia’s gaze softened, just for a moment, but the anger quickly returned, a shield against the pain. “You should’ve fought for me,” she repeated, her voice breaking just enough to reveal the hurt underneath. “But you didn’t.”

Y/N stood there, frozen, feeling the weight of her past decisions crushing down on her. She had always been strong, always held herself together, but Alessia’s words cut deeper than anything she’d ever felt on the pitch. She had failed her—not by letting her go, but by not realizing how much Alessia had needed her to fight.

“I didn’t know how to,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I was scared of losing you… scared of making the wrong choice. I thought you wanted to be free, and I didn’t want to be the reason you couldn’t follow your dreams.”

Alessia’s eyes softened again, but this time, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she looked at Y/N for a long moment, the anger slowly draining from her expression. “I wanted you to come with me, Y/N. I would’ve given up everything to stay with you if you had asked. But you never did.”

Y/N’s heart shattered at the revelation, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek before she could stop it. “I didn’t know, Less. I didn’t know you felt that way. I was stupid, and I was scared, and I thought you were better off without me.”

Alessia sighed, the frustration finally ebbing away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. “I wasn’t better off without you. I’ve spent years trying to forget about you, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried.”

Y/N looked down at her hands, her chest aching with regret. “I never stopped thinking about you either. Not once.”

The silence between them was heavy, but this time, it wasn’t filled with anger or resentment. It was filled with the weight of everything they hadn’t said, of all the time they had lost. Y/N wanted to reach out, to take Alessia’s hand, but she didn’t know if she had the right anymore.

But Alessia was the one who made the first move. She sighed and, for the first time since they’d been reunited, the edge in her voice softened. “Y/N… it’s not all your fault. We both made mistakes.”

Y/N looked up, her heart pounding. “Does that mean…?”

Alessia glanced at her, something unspoken hanging in the air between them. “I don’t know what it means. But maybe… we don’t have to keep hurting each other.”

Y/N’s breath caught. This was the first glimmer of hope she’d felt in weeks. “I don’t want to hurt you, Less. I never did.”

Alessia gave her a small, tired smile. “I know.”

The bartender slid their drinks across the counter, and Alessia picked them up. As she handed one to Y/N, her fingers brushed against Y/N’s, sending a jolt of electricity through her. For a moment, their eyes met, and Y/N saw something there that she hadn’t seen in a long time: the flicker of the girl she used to know, the one who had loved her.

They returned to the table in silence, but this time, the tension between them was different. It wasn’t the suffocating weight of anger and regret—it was something softer, something that felt like the first step toward healing.

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

Over the next few days, Y/N and Alessia didn’t talk much, but the harsh comments and cold stares stopped. Alessia seemed to be struggling with her own emotions, and Y/N gave her the space she needed. But Leah, ever the protective sister, wasn’t content to let things linger in awkward silence.

“We’re making progress,” Leah said, gathering the core group again in the locker room after practice. “But we need to do more. They’re clearly not going to talk unless we push them together.”

Katie McCabe grinned, leaning back in her seat. “Well, we’re a team. We can get creative. Maybe they need a little… forced bonding time.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we lock them in a room together until they sort things out?”

Katie shrugged. “Not a bad idea, is it?”

Leah laughed. “Let’s not go that far. But I do think we need to create a situation where they can’t just avoid each other.”

“Like what?” Vivianne asked.

“Like a team dinner, maybe,” Leah suggested. “Somewhere casual, low pressure. We can make sure they’re sitting next to each other. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll come up with something more drastic.”

The group nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with mischief. It wasn’t often that they got to play matchmaker, and they were determined to see it through.

That weekend, the team gathered at a cozy Italian restaurant in central London, the kind of place with candlelit tables and soft music in the background. Leah had made the seating arrangements, ensuring that Y/N and Alessia were placed right next to each other.

Y/N felt her heart rate spike as she took her seat beside Alessia, but Alessia didn’t seem as tense as before. In fact, she even managed a small smile when their eyes met. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give Y/N a flicker of hope.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed easily around the table. The team laughed, joked, and shared stories, and slowly, Y/N felt the tension between her and Alessia begin to melt away. At one point, Alessia leaned over and whispered something about one of the other players, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even herself.

For the first time in a long time, it felt easy. Natural. Like maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

After dinner, as the team spilled out onto the street, Leah nudged Y/N gently. “Walk Alessia home,” she whispered.

Y/N hesitated, but Leah gave her a reassuring smile. “Go on. It’s time.”

Y/N swallowed her nerves and turned to Alessia. “Hey, do you want some company on the way home?”

Alessia looked surprised for a moment, but then she nodded. “Sure. I’d like that.”

They walked in comfortable silence through the quiet London streets, the cool night air brushing against their skin. Y/N’s heart raced with every step, but she didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t until they reached Alessia’s building that she finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you,” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself.

Alessia paused, her keys in hand, and looked up at Y/N. Her expression softened, and for a moment, Y/N saw the girl she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“I’ve missed you too,” Alessia admitted quietly.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Y/N took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. “Do you think… we could try again?”

Alessia’s eyes searched Y/N’s face for a long moment, as if weighing her options. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Yeah. I think we can.”

And with that, the distance between them melted away. Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Alessia, pulling her close. It felt like coming home.

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

From that moment on, things between Y/N and Alessia began to heal. The bitterness and anger faded, replaced by the love that had always been there, buried beneath the hurt. They took things slow, rebuilding the trust they had lost, but it wasn’t long before they were back to where they had once been—laughing, teasing, and loving each other with the same intensity as before.

And this time, Y/N wasn’t going to let Alessia go. Not again.

The rest of the team watched their relationship blossom with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that they had played a small part in bringing them back together. Leah, in particular, was overjoyed to see her sister happy again, and she made sure to remind Y/N every chance she got that family—and love—was worth fighting for.

And so, as the seasons changed and the matches came and went, Y/N and Alessia faced every challenge together. They were stronger, not just as teammates, but as partners, and they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Because this time, they weren’t letting go.

[paintpanic]

Res AU Joronia drawings. Character rambling and bonus doodles under cut.

This AU takes place a good while after the events of Triple Deluxe happened. Since then, Taranza's mostly recovered mentally from everything. He was able to move on from his grief and (somewhat) forgive himself. Now that Joronia's in his life again, seemingly back to her former self, some of those wounds he'd thought were fully healed have started to ache again. He still feels ultimately guilty for what happened to her.

He's thrilled that Joronia's been given a second chance at life, but is somewhat wary deep down. This feels to good to be true, that she's just back with seemingly no strings attached. The other shoe could drop any day now, and he could lose her all over again. Fearing this, he wants to make the most out of what could be a short time to be together again with his friend.

Joronia senses that there's a distance between the two of them now that wasn't there before. It shouldn't be surprising; he's probably still hurt from what she did. Other people definitely are. She's determined, though, to work hard to make it up to everyone she's hurt, and to prove to them (and herself) that she's not really like that, that she's capable of being better.

The Mirror's influence twisted her mind and her perception of reality. It made her feel like she was inadequate, and that everyone else were enemies to be subjugated. Now, she's supposed to be normal and better, but she still feels like there's something wrong with her head. She still doesn't feel good enough, and it still feels like everyone hates her. It's hard to trust herself. She's not sure if it's some lingering effect of the Mirror, or if there's just something inherently wrong with her now. She's scared.

She's afraid that something will happen, that she'll revert to how she was as Queen, and that she'll hurt Taranza again. Someone who'd always helped her, who'd stuck with her even when she was absolutely horrible to him, and who's kindness she's relying on again now, staying at his home as she worked on getting her life back together. She's a burden on him, and she always has been. She hates it.

Still, her deepest, most selfish wish is that they could be real friends again.

---

These two need to have a long, honest discussion about their feelings toward each other and themselves. Both of them are absolutely terrified about that prospect, though, because they each think that the other secretly resents them to some degree. If they actually talked through it, they'd quickly realize that they both want the same thing.

[judeswhore]

i wanna kiss your lips; mason mount

summary: your past relationships have been anything but giving and mason just has to change that

pairing: best friend!mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, oral (f) receiving

notes: you can find my masterlist here. uhm surprise? this was a half finished piece in my drafts and i thought teehee maybe i’ll post so here she is

“you’ve never had an orgasm?” mason’s tone was one of complete disbelief, the look in his eyes a perfect match. he gazed at you from the other end of the sofa, the movie playing on his tv long since forgotten.

“well, i have by myself, but not with anyone else.”

“never?”

“nope.”

“not even josh?” you snorted at this, gazed into the bowl of popcorn on your lap in search of a piece that looked extra sweet. mason was watching you with furrowed brows, his body turned to face yours, one arm against the back of the sofa. there was a pillow in his lap and he picked at a loose piece of thread.

“especially not josh.” you shrugged like it was nothing, curling your feet up under yourself as you matched his position. you stared at him head on, even as you spoke the next few words. “most guys only care about getting themselves off, half the time they can’t even tell if you’ve finished or not. they fuck you and take what they want and that’s it, sometimes it’s too much effort and to them where’s the fun in that?”

“too much effort?” mason was perplexed. too much effort is not a phrase he would use in regards to making his girl cum, in fact that was the best part, the fun part. drawing it out as long as possible, edging them with your fingers and tongue until they’re begging and falling apart from one simple touch. to him, sex is boring if the foreplay isn’t drawn out and full of teasing.

“it takes a while for me. i can’t-“ you shrugged again, heat blossoming over your skin because why were you talking about this with mason? the boy who’d put worms in your sandwiches when you were little? your friendship was open and carefree and yeah you’d often discussed your sex lives but this felt like a step too far. but you’d already started now, what would be the point in stopping. “i can’t just cum in two minutes. it takes more than just a couple fingers or whatever and the guys i’ve been with found that tiring. who wants to be with a girl who’s wound so tight it takes her forever to cum? they usually try for a few minutes, get bored and sometimes a little annoyed so i fake it, we fuck, they leave. i’ve learnt to take care of myself once they’re gone.”

you weren’t entirely sure how you’d gotten on to that topic, you’d been talking about your ex being back in town and one thing led to another until you were confessing your deepest, darkest secrets. well, it wasn’t exactly deep or dark but it was definitely a secret. twenty three years old and you were yet to find a man who could make you finish, over dramatic moans and fake orgasms had long since become your closest friend. it was this confession, and your best friends need to be good at everything, that had landed you in a pretty surprising position.

naked in his bed.

“y’can tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” mason was settled between your legs, his mouth hot on the inside of your thigh and all you could do was nod. you swallowed thickly, hands pressed into the soft cotton of his bedsheets because you didn’t know where else to put them. mason’s hair looked inviting but you were nervous, afraid you’d pull too hard, worried he might not like having the soft strands yanked. that on top of you usual anxieties over not being able to cum had your heart pounding in your chest. your best friend was no idiot and he could sense your inner turmoil from a mile away.

he propped himself up on his elbows and kissed your knee.

“tell me this is okay. if it’s not we can stop, pretend it never happened.”

“no,” you shook your head rather aggressively. mason hadn’t even touched you yet and you were soaked, wound up simply by thinking about what he was going to do to you. not a single part of you wanted him to stop. “this is okay.”

“yeah? you’re sure?”

“positive.” he blew out a soft breath, a half laugh, that hit your pussy, made you clench around nothing. you might find it difficult coming at the hands of someone else but you were always extra sensitive. the fact that this was mason was somehow intensifying that.

“good because i really wanna eat you out.” you had no reply for that but he didn’t seem to mind, he was kissing your thigh again, trailing his mouth to that hot spot between your legs but never actually touching you. he switched to your other thigh, nipped and sucked until you were shifting impatiently, subtly lifting your hips closer to his mouth.

“mason.”

“shh, m’taking my time. this is what you deserve.” he pressed a hand to your stomach to hold you down, his other hand hooking under your knee, pushing outward to open you up for him. you were completely on show to him, every inch of you and despite that initial anxiety, a larger part of you felt like this was meant to be. there was no one who made you feel safer than mason.

he kissed your hip, nuzzled his nose against the soft skin of your thigh before his mouth hovered over your pussy. his gaze flicked up to yours, a gentle smile curving his lips.

“you’re so beautiful, baby.” it took everything in you not to buck towards his mouth, your fingers twisting into the sheets. his smile turned dirty in an instant. “got the prettiest pussy, gonna treat her right, yeah? gonna show you how good it feels.” you could only nod, tummy twisting at his words. dirty talk always got you off, pushed you closer to that edge but again, some guys just don’t do it right. you could already tell this wasn’t going to be a problem with mason.

the second his tongue touched you a shaky breath blew past your lips, your eyes falling closed. he licked a single broad stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, tongue flat to cover as much of you as possible. he repeated the motion, humming at the taste of you, cleaning up the wetness that had gathered just from his proposition. the kiss he pressed to your clit had your thighs tensing beneath his hands.

“taste so good, sweetheart.” he teased the tip of his tongue against your hole, dipped inside just slightly before he was licking through your folds again. at your clit he stopped, pointed his tongue and repeatedly flicked over the swollen bud, grinning at the high pitched whine it pulled from you. “yeah? like that?”

“yeah, i-“

“shh, it’s okay, just relax for me.” mason’s hand smoothed over your thigh, pressed you open a little more and went back to flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. pleasure was curling low at the base of your spine, the very first sparks of fire. this was usually as far as it would get, your orgasm would build halfway before fizzling out of reach.

his lips closed around your clit, sucked softly until your hips were lifting off the bed, bucking towards his mouth and he was chuckling low in the back of his throat. the sound vibrated through you, made you half choke on a whimper, your fingers pulling at the sheets. he pulled back and kissed the skin around your pussy, ignored the parts which were begging for him. his hand was suddenly reaching for yours, fingers soft around your wrist as he pried yours from the sheets and guided them to his head. he pushed until your fingers threaded through the soft strands of hair.

“want you to tug on my hair, not my sheets.” you couldn’t reply because he was buried back between your thighs, tongue running through your folds, licking at your clit, pressing just slightly inside you before retreating again. he kept the pressure on your clit light, just bordering on teasing and it was driving you insane, the steady build up of pleasure growing heavier.

with your hands in his hair you pushed, urged him to increase the pressure. he caught on almost immediately, swirled his tongue around it before flicking back and forth, your mouth dropping open on a quiet moan. that moan turned into a soft yelp when his teeth grazed your clit. it was a foreign feeling but one that had you gushing with even more arousal.

“don’t hold back, i want you to be loud. want my neighbours to know how good i’m giving it to you.” you made some unintelligible sound, tugging a little at his hair in acknowledgment and mason sucked your clit in reply. he suctioned it into his mouth with a deep groan and your orgasm creeped a little bit closer. at this point, your past partners would have given up, would have huffed in annoyance until you faked your orgasm and they could fuck you.

mason, however, had lost no momentum and was showing no signs of letting up, his attention to your pussy and your reactions to his mouth keeping him going. he’d caught on that you liked teasing just a little, that you liked when he worked you to a point with the tip of his tongue before flattening it and letting it fizzle out. that was what drew out your orgasm, time and teasing. you were a wet mess, dripping down on to his sheets, stickying your thighs and the lower half of his face and you whined loudly when he pressed his tongue into your hole.

his nose bumped your clit repeatedly from the position, your pussy clenching with need and you couldn’t help the harsh yank to his hair.

“oh my god, fuck. don’t-don’t stop.” your head tipped back, a string of moans and curses falling past your lips as mason continued fucking you with his tongue. each time his nose rubbed over your clit a desperate whimper fell from you, your grip on his hair tight enough that it bordered on painful. he pulled back, gave one large lick up your pussy before meeting your gaze.

“tell me what you need.” you blinked at him, trying to clear the fog in your head. you were already so close, a feeling you’d never felt with anyone else bubbling in your tummy but even you knew you still needed a little bit more. true, you could probably cum from mason’s tongue alone if he kept going, but you wanted just that little bit more. you brushed his hair back with your fingers, focused your gaze on his mouth, lips plump and glistening and there was an overwhelming need to kiss him.

you were aware the two of you had crossed a line in your friendship, had done something you couldn’t come back from. but this was sex. unfeeling, detached, a transaction of sorts. mason can prove you can cum with other people, you get an orgasm when you’d only been expecting a movie and popcorn tonight. but kissing was different. kissing meant something to you and you couldn’t kiss him and move on. something at the back of your mind suggested you weren’t going to be able to move on from this, but that was for future you to worry about. right now you just wanted to cum.

“fingers, i want your fingers.” it was breathless, your voice broken and scratchy from your keening moans and whines. mason cocked his head, grinning slowly as he bent his head and kissed just above your clit.

“yeah? want me to fuck you open with them? bet i can have you coming in minutes, baby.” he shifted between your legs and brought his hand up, middle and pointer finger settling in front of your mouth. his grin turned into a smirk, eyes sparkling with heated lust. “be a good girl and get them nice and wet for me.” you were quick to do as you were told, lips wrapping around his fingers, tongue swirling around them until they were coated in saliva. you let them go with a dramatic pop, not once breaking eye contact, even as mason settled back between your thighs.

your legs had closed slightly and he nudged them back open with a chastising nip to the soft skin. the tips of his fingers teased your hole, circled it for a second as his gaze locked on your pussy.

“you’re making a mess of my sheets.” there was nothing to say to that and so you simply let your head fall back on to the pillow, eyes closing again when he pressed both fingers into you. he moved slowly, let your walls relax around him before he hooked them up and slowly retreated. “god, you’re so fucking tight, don’t even think my cock would fit.” it was a throwaway comment, actual sex wasn’t on the table but his words still made you clench, the thought of him burying himself inside you pulling a high pitched whine from your throat.

“make me cum, please. i wanna cum.”

“i know, sweetheart, i’m gonna, just enjoy it.” he started fucking you slowly, fingers pressing against all of your sensitive parts, hitting deeper than yours ever could. the thumb on his other hand had found your clit and was rubbing tight circles over it, the trembles in your thighs an indication to you both that you were hurtling towards the edge. the wet sounds of your pussy and mason’s low praises broke through your constant string of moans and whimpers. “that’s it. taking it so good, babe, look at you. pussy’s just begging me to fuck her, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

his tongue was on your clit again, flicking over it to match the pace and rhythm of his fingers and each time they hooked inside of you, you tipped a little bit closer. your clit was swollen and throbbing beneath his tongue, the feeling intensifying when he sucked it between his lips. he hummed against, thrust his fingers in a little harder, stretching you open to a point you wished it was his cock filling you up.

“such a pretty girl, you gonna cum for me? come on, i wanna feel it.” fingers in his hair, you pulled a little harder, legs starting to shake and your orgasm was only inches out of reach. the pads of his fingers repeatedly bullied into that sensitive spot deep inside of you, the feeling so intense tears had gathered on your lash line as your mouth dropped open, moans and whimpers of mason’s name filling the air.

“m’so close, mase, it feels so good.”

“mhm, being such a good girl, fuck i wish i could stay here all night.” you whined, back arching off the bed and his free hand had to press you back down, applying the slightest bit of pressure to your lower tummy. he could tell how close you were, knew your orgasm was just dangling out of reach and he took a chance as he pulled his lips from you clit. “play with your tits for me, babe.”

half delirious you did as told, one hand still tugging at mason’s hair but the other moved up to cup your boob, squeezing and massaging the way you did when you were alone. praises filtered up from between your legs and then he was back to tonguing your clit, his fingers fucking you a little harder. you pinched your nipple and mason crooked his fingers and your orgasm hit you like a wave.

a high pitched moan, one that definitely sounded like a cry, fell from your lips as your back lifted off the mattress, fingers tangled so tight in mason’s hair it was a miracle you hadn’t pulled any out. your pussy clenched so tight around his fingers, slick walls hugging them back in each time he pulled them out, working you through the most intense orgasm of your life. mason kept muttering praises the whole time, telling you how good you did, how pretty you were, how badly he wants to fuck you until you cry.

it takes a few moments, a couple slow pumps of his fingers and ever slower laps of his tongue before the waves of pleasure die down and the roaring in your ears subsides. you’d gushed around his fingers, made a mess of him and the bed but he didn’t seem to mind, eagerly cleaning you up with broad licks when he finally pulled his fingers free. you were too sensitive, clit pulsing and with a shake of your head you pushed at mason’s forehead, whimpering quietly when he pressed a final kiss to the little bud.

he sat back on his knees, watched you through hooded eyes as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, licked them clean of your cum while you watched with a heaving chest. your body was on fire, pussy sensitive but somehow feeling empty now and it was difficult to miss the bulge in mason’s joggers. he drew his fingers from his lips and flopped down beside you, his shoulder warm against your bare skin.

“so, how was that for a first orgasm?”

[solspina]

Where is a Line for Justice Drawn?

magnus the red ⋆˙⟡

a short little blurb i threw together while i was trying to lull myself to sleep last night! not heavily edited, so i apologize for any mistakes!

heresy is unforgivable, and magnus knows this better than anyone. psykers are heretics, and leman russ knows this better than anyone. the blood of the crimson lady and a young red skinned girl is the only way to pay the price.

warnings: major character death, child death, mentions of burning/heavy injury, angst and more angst, leman is very cruel

Pride will be the death of you.

Among his brothers, it was a common misconception that the pride of Magnus the Red lay solely in his power and knowledge of the unseen universe. They believed that he took the most pleasure from understanding things even the emperor didn’t, or took great joy in knowing more than the rest of them.

Their judgements were far from the truth, for it lay instead in the things they failed to see. His pride was a perfect two sided coin, one in which the sides belonged to different women respectively, none other than his wife and daughter. His brothers knew not of this, all of them besides Leman Russ.

Leman knew the truth. He knew where the sorcerer buried his deepest weakness, it was within that pathetic psyker of a wife and the vibrant red skin of his half divine daughter. He knew of the heresy that had been committed by Magnus upon prospero. He knew how to bring Magnus to his knees. He knew that Magnus feared him.

Perhaps that was how Magnus had gotten into the position he was in today.

His wife lay motionless on the floor, her pure white robes were bloodstained and dirty, an indication that she had tried to run away. An arrow was nestled carefully between her shoulder blades, penetrating her heart and pulling her away from life incredibly slowly.

Magnus knelt by his wife’s side, weeping ever so slightly as his heart shattered further with every passing second. He avoided the gaze of Leman who stood across the room. The crimson king’s infant daughter was still in the arms of the wolf, but her voice no longer cooed sweet nothings into her father’s ears or babbled at absolutely anything. Her skin, the same color as his, now paled in comparison to its once vibrant beauty. His child was lost, gone before she could ever say her first word or experience premonition.

Aside from the great king’s gentle sobs, the crackling of flames and the screaming of entire families could be heard outside. The noises, along with the suffocating smoke in the air, came from the streets of Prospero as it burned.

“One of them felt no pain, Magnus” Leman’s voice echoed across the room as he looked down upon the crimson skinned child, not a wound on her body. He didn’t want to know how she died. He wanted no knowledge of what the wolf did to his daughter. “The other, though…”

Bruises and small cuts had completely littered every inch of his wife’s perfect skin, a surface that Magnus used to caress with such gentleness and care. It was undeniable that she would put up a fight. Inevitable that she would try to run, only to be shot through her most vital organ of life the moment she made it into Magnus’ arms. Unavoidable that Leman would walk into the room immediately after the shot was fired, their daughter lifeless in his arms.

Even now, she clung to him with the last few moments of life she had within her. Her hands were placed upon the primarch’s shoulders as she shook in terror against him.

“Please” her voice trembled as tears spilled from her eyes. “I don’t want to die… I’m scared, Magnus…” Her expression was full of fear and her voice was barely above a whisper. He could tell from the way she looked at him that she was desperately seeking comfort, but he failed to grant her that wish. He wanted to reassure her, to tell that everything would be okay, but his words caught in his throat.

He was frozen, unable to process the gravity of the situation. He could not bear seeing her afraid like this, nor could he bring himself to lie to her. Helplessness washed over him like crashing waves, pulling him in and out of reality as he cradled her in his arms, one last time. “Magnus,” she spoke once more, her words weakened as she became tired, his own voice still failing him to speak. “I love you…”

In the blink of an eye, she was gone. An incredibly broken “I love you too” finally made it’s way out of his throat, but far too late for her to hear.

Leman laughed maniacally, sickeningly. “A death fit for a psyker.” He spat, venom and contempt dripped from his voice. He walked across the room with a chilling calmness, Magnus’ daughter cradled in his arms. With a grotesque mockery of calmness, Leman placed the lifeless baby gently in her cradle. He had covered the young girl with her blanket, creating a display as if she had merely been asleep. He was teasing the weeping crimson king with every action, the cruelty of the executioner in its most pure form.

“My work for father is done here” claimed the wolf, his teeth beared in a smile as he looked down upon the pathetic excuse for a sorcerer cradling his wife. “Heretics are to be executed, brother” Leman declared, his voice cold and unyielding. He before turned on his heels as he prepared to exit Magnus’ tower, his tattered cloak billowed behind him. “You should know better.” were his final, cutting words to the crimson king as he left him to drown in his grief. His beloved tower, once home to both his family and infinite pillars of knowledge, had come to feel like more of a tomb.

Magnus carefully removed his wife from the ground and placed her down on their bed, one they shared while she was alive, before making his way to the cradle his daughter lay in. He lifted her from her bed and away from the blankets that Leman had tainted with blood, the face of the babe was peaceful and serene despite all that had happened, despite her lack of life. He opted to lay the baby in the arms of his wife, allowing the only two things that mattered more than knowledge to appear together one final time. He looked upon them with sorrow, trying desperately to convince himself that the two of them were simply sleeping. It had just been a long day and they were tired, that’s all this was.

His hands trembled as he caressed the baby’s cheek, her face illuminated by the bright orange flames that raged outside. He lay his own body next to the two women, one arm over the both of them. He spoke to them, sharing with them stories and knowledge that even humanity had not yet touched, they never would. Prospero burned, and the unrelenting flames would not cease.

Perhaps it was not selfish for the primarch to allow himself the liberty of dying next to his wife and daughter. The flames that burned his skin could never match the warmth the girls used to provide when they lived, and he’d take every ounce of the fading heat until he emitted none of his own.

Would it be selfish to become the monster that Leman had suspected? Would it be selfish to wish for change?