#hes one of the more unpredictable ones on how this kind of conversation could go

[snootlestheangel]

Part One Part Two Part Three

"You have so many questions, don't you?" I ask, smiling warmly at him. He smiles sheepishly back, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He takes a deep breath before sipping his tea. Quiet contemplation settles over him as he debates which question to ask first.

Please don't let it be that one.

"Is Aten right about him?"

That... is not the question I anticipated him to ask first.

It takes me by surprise, and I frown while leaning back into my seat. He takes a deep breath, a weak laugh echoing off the empty walls.

"You just answered it in a way, you know that, right?" He says, quiet and almost uncertain. Afraid of speaking the truth, of stirring the pot. So afraid of conflict yet always prepared for war.

"I won't remember this." He whispers, staring into the dark pool of tea. I swallow past the knot forming in my throat, and nod my head.

"You'll go back to following what you believe to be the path of righteousness."

He closes his eyes as he shakily exhales, pain forming behind his eyes. He lifts his head and straightens his posture, turning crimson eyes towards me. The cool look of a collected ruler, fixed on doing what is right for his people.

Acceptance of a fate doomed to end in bloodshed.

[missrosiesworld]

Gentleman's Heart

Here are some sweet headcanons for Von Lycaon when he has a crush:

Heightened Cleanliness: Von Lycaon’s already meticulous nature goes into overdrive. He ensures his surroundings are impeccably clean whenever his crush is around.

Von Lycaon: "Please, allow me to tidy up a bit before you come in."

Crush: "You really don’t have to go through all this trouble."

Von Lycaon: "It's no trouble at all. Your comfort is my priority."

Protective Instincts: His natural inclination to protect becomes even stronger. He subtly keeps a close watch over his crush, ensuring they are always safe and comfortable.

Von Lycaon, offering his arm to his crush: "Allow me to walk you home. The streets can be unpredictable at this hour."

Crush, smiling but hesitant: "Oh, that's very kind of you, but I'm sure I'll be fine."

Von Lycaon, gently taking their hand and placing it on his arm: "It's a privilege to ensure your well-being. I'd feel better knowing you arrived safely."

Crush, feeling his protective nature and warmth: "Thank you, Lycaon. That means a lot to me."

Von Lycaon, giving a reassuring smile as they start walking together: "Your safety is my top priority. I'll always be here to watch over you."

Subtle Courtship: Being a gentleman, Von Lycaon uses old-fashioned, subtle methods of courtship. He leaves small, thoughtful gifts and handwritten notes, often with poetic quotes or observations he knows will resonate with his crush.

Von Lycaon leaves a rose, carefully dethorned, along with a handwritten note on his crush's desk

Von Lycaon's note reads: "For the one who brightens my days, a small token of my appreciation."

Canine Instincts: His canine instincts become more pronounced around his crush. His ears might twitch or his tail might wag slightly when he’s particularly happy or excited in their presence.

Crush: "Is your tail wagging?"

Von Lycaon, flustered: "I… It seems I can't control it when I’m happy."

Crush, laughing and reaching out to touch his ear gently: "It’s cute. I like seeing you happy."

Loyalty and Devotion: Von Lycaon’s loyalty to his crush is unwavering. He goes out of his way to assist them, whether it’s helping with tasks or offering a listening ear.

Crush: "You've been helping me a lot lately. I hope I'm not burdening you."

Von Lycaon: "Nonsense. It's my pleasure to assist. Your happiness is reward enough."

Overthinking Interactions: Despite his outward composure, he internally overthinks every interaction. He analyzes every word and gesture, wondering if he came across the right way or if he said something that could be misinterpreted.

Rina, noticing his distraction: "You seem distracted, Lycaon."

Von Lycaon, his brow furrowing as he reflects: "Do you think I was too forward in our last conversation? I fear I may have made them uncomfortable."

Rina, giving him a reassuring smile: "From what you've told me, they seemed quite happy. Stop overthinking."

Gentle Touches: Physical contact is gentle and deliberate. He might place a reassuring hand on their shoulder or offer a gentlemanly kiss on the hand, each touch conveying his deep affection and respect.

Von Lycaon gently takes his crush's hand and, with a gentleman's grace, kisses it

Crush, smiling warmly: "You're quite the gentleman, aren't you?"

Von Lycaon, with a soft, affectionate smile: "For you, it's only natural."

Confiding in Trusted Friends: He confides in Rina about his feelings, seeking advice on how to express them appropriately without compromising his gentlemanly demeanor.

Von Lycaon: "Rina, may I seek your counsel on a personal matter?"

Rina: "Of course, Lycaon. What’s on your mind?"

Von Lycaon: "I’ve developed feelings for someone, and I wish to convey them without losing my composure or propriety."

Tail Wagging: When he’s particularly happy or flustered around his crush, his tail betrays him by wagging despite his best efforts to stay composed. He’s slightly embarrassed by this but it’s also endearing.

Crush: "You seem unusually happy today."

Von Lycaon, tail wagging, trying to suppress it: "Do I? Perhaps it’s the company."

Increased Poeticism: He becomes more poetic in his speech, often quoting literature or composing his romantic lines when speaking to or about his crush. His words are carefully chosen to reflect his deep feelings.

Von Lycaon, with a gentle, sincere tone: "The stars pale in comparison to your radiance."

Crush, blushing slightly, feeling touched: "You always know how to say the most beautiful things."

Von Lycaon, smiling softly, his eyes full of affection: "It's simply the truth, and I find myself captivated by it every day."

[tokoyamisstuff]

Delicate

Homelander x F! Reader

Summary: You and Homelander have been official for a while now, but you have yet to understand why things never went beyond a certain line.

Warnings: slight angst, slight manhandling, somnophilia, masturbation, explicit smut, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex

A/N: not proofread as always bc I cringe at my own writing. take it or leave it

Homelander had never learned how to be gentle.

Of course he knew how to touch someone without breaking them if necessary, but there's limits to his self-restraint. Especially when it came to the intimate kind of encounter.

This sadistic side of his was an expression of his desperate need for control, an inability to truly let himself fall and be vulnerable with another person.

For decades his mantra was that normal humans only exist for supes' - and mostly his - entertainment. Your weakness was his thrill, the sheer difference in power so ridiculously high that you might as well be filthy bugs - and Homelander was like a cruel child with a magnifying glass.

Usually his mates were supes themselves and even they could barely handle his violent urges, but you are a mere human. So fragile and precious that it terrified him at times.

What if he loses control in the heat of the moment? What if he breaks you? Or even worse: What if you see him for the monster he really is and run away like everyone eventually does?

A while ago Homelander heard the story about Ice Princess' fling, some Vought employee nobody. She accidentally froze his penis off during climax. Hilarious, honestly. The first time he heard this story he had a very good laugh, and he still can't look that guy in the eye without cackling when he passes him in the hallways.

But now, being romantically involved with one of those weaklings himself, the possibility of something similar happening to you made his stomach turn...

...but of course, as Homelander always does, he chose to ignore the problem at hand instead of addressing it.

Why bother with an unpleasant conversation if he can just prolong this innocent, chaste bond for as long as possible? He'd rather have you like this than unnecessarily putting you into harm's way.

You on the other hand slowly but steadily grew impatient with your boyfriend.

At first you thought he was merely being chivalrous, but it's been three months and still nothing. He's famous, so you had involuntarily learned about his past affairs - and he's definetly not old-fashioned.

Then why is he hesitating so much?

Most of the time you don't dare talking about what's bothering you, simply because any issue of yours seemed so insignificant compared to the horrible things John's been through.

Admittedly, he once literally lasered a guy's head into mush just for throwing a can to his son's head. So while his reactions can be a bit unpredictable, John cares so deeply about the few people he loves that you want to spare him any more trouble.

Unhealthy way of handling things, admittedly.

Last week you had planned it all out: What you could only describe as the perfect date was supposed to continue in his apartment, and you could literally see all blood flow from his brain to nether regions as you entered the bedroom in finest lingerie.

Anyways, you had initiated several times up until now, and initially he'd always go along with it. However as soon as your make-out-sessions turn more heated, he'd abruptly end them and practically storm off.

Everything went so well at first, with you straddling his waist and tentatively grinding against his lap. His hands moved against his will as his resolve crumbled, finding the curves of your body and relishing in the feeling of your exposed skin under his gloves. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to go all out, fearing dangerous consequences.

A proper dosage of pain can function as aphrodisiac, at least in your opinion. So you didn't tell him to stop, in fact your senses were too clouded by desire to even notice the way his fingers dug into the cushion of your hips.

Yet there was just the tiniest microexpression, just the fraction of a second where your heart sped up and your face contorted in pain...

...and Homelander, shocked with himself, threw you so frantically off of his lap, you landed face firsr on the floor instead of the bed.

Against all reasoning, you laughed hysterically at his not-so-subtle rejection, and god knows you'll tease him about it until forever. But also, understandably, on the inside you were as hurt and confused as never before.

Doesn't make it any better that your boyfriend had been avoiding you like you were the goddamn pest ever since.

Just like today, when Homelander comes home to you way past midnight, double checking with his x-ray-vision whether you were already fast asleep.

John was aware that this topic has been tormenting you for a while now, and while he never intended to hurt you - quite the opposite, really - he also clung to this pleasant illusion he had created with you.

Lucky at cards, unlucky in love, or so they say.

The course of his life had convinced him that all remotely good things happening to him will be taken away again. A farce prepared by destiny itself just to mock him, maybe evening out the scales since he had been blessed with too much power.

On days as shitty as this one however, nothing compares to having someone to come home to - even when he made sure that you weren't awake to confront him. He tosses his boots aside, grateful for you to be a sound sleeper as they fell to the floor with a loud thump.

Your boyfriend's heart sinks as he pulls up the blanket, being greeted by a handprint-shaped bruise on the side of your hip. Seems like it still hurts too much to sleep on that side. His fingertips run over the dark purple-ish mark, a pained groan escaping your throat when he gives in to the temptation to squeeze your ass.

He really is the worst.

Homelander freezes until he's certain you continue sleeping undisturbed, the sound of his own heart hammering against his chest drowning out all other noise. His palm is still lingering on your body, running up and down your sides and earning relieved sighs in return.

Before you'd feel his excitement too much, he manages to tear his body away from you, his erection twitching painfully as he rolled onto his back.

John really had pure intentions when he embraced you from behind, simply wanting to distract himself and fall asleep while cradling you in his arms - yet instead his already hard cock buries itself neatly between your thighs, the friction making him utter vile things.

Damn it Y/N, why the fuck do you always sleep in underwear only?! Is it to taunt him or to test his limits? Because it's working.

A breathy moan escapes his lips as he spread his legs wide, cock already leaking precum when he ran his thumb across the slid. He grabs it fiercely, pumping hard to make quick work of it, while roaming every inch of your skin he can get his other free hand on.

"Need some help with that?"

Shit.

ShitshitshitshitSHIT!

Seems like he was a little too busy with getting off - so much that even his heightened senses didn't catch you waking up to this scene. Your boyfriend had a habit of sleeping naked, so right now there was none of what he did left to the imagination.

"Heyyy sweetheart..." John tried to put on his trusty showman attitude, an awkward grin stretched across his face while trying to cover himself with the next best pillow. "Sorry babe, didn't wanna wake you up. Just go back to slee-"

"And miss out on the show?" you chuckle half-sleepily and he wants to die. He's done worse things in his life, way worse to be precize - so why is he fucking shy nowy just because you caught him? "Aww, you're blushing." He contemplates lasering your lips together to make you shut up.

"C'mon, John, I know you're holding back for some reason, but we don't have to go all out." Shuffling closer to your boyfriend, you give him those damn doe-eyes he can never say no to. "And I'd love to lend you a hand, if you know what I mean."

John instinctively closes his eyes as your face moves closer, lips eagerly awaiting yours...

...but just when you were about to touch him, he takes a hold of your wrist. "Y/N, I-" he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. "Just- just let me go to the bathroom, okay?"

You frown. Worse, the humiliation makes tears dwell in your eyes. Pushing your partner is wrong, but without context you really start doubting yourself here.

Suddenly the stench of fear was lingering in the air, and your heart starts racing like a hummingbird. Trying to calm yourself was a fruitless attempt in front of a man that could perceive almost anything, even your pathetic strangled sobs.

So he was right: You're afraid and maybe even disgusted by his behavior, and just offered yourself to placate him.

Maybe he should just snap your neck to escape the inevitable heartbreak.

"A-Are you cheating on me?"

"Huh?" That question caught him off guard. He was prepared to hear anything, seriously all kinds of insults or accusations, but that? "Are you dense? Why the fuck would I cheat on you?"

And that's when it dawns on him: You are scared - but not of him.

To your defense, he did have a reputation of not being able to keep it in his pants. Maeve had remarked that fact more than once so you wouldn't forget. And him constantly being swarmed by the prettiest celebrities didn't do any good to your self-esteem either.

You're scared of him leaving you.

"Then what is it?" you sniveled, shrinking into yourself as you hugged your own legs. Seeing you like this and knowing he's responsible was somehow even worse than his earlier apprehensions. "You always react as if you got burned whenever we touch. Did I do something wrong, or- or am I not attractive enough?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" John scoffs in an almost irritated tone, unable to refrain from rolling his eyes. Comforting people didn't really come easy to him, even if he hated himself for not being able to let the shielding facade drop just this once. "You're gorgeous and you know that! C'mon, you women are always causing arguments out of thin air. Stop making this about yourself, would y-"

Seeing your glossy eyes turn into a glare at his ramblings made him shut up immediately, but the damage has already been done. "You know what, I'll-" For a while, you sit on the edge of the bed thinking and with every passing second of silence, Homelander's anxiety skyrockets. "I think it's better if I sleep at my own place for a while."

That's exactly what he's talking about, damn it! The line between control and insanity is a thin thread, and he is not willing to take any chances - when it comes to you at least.

"No!" he almost screams at you, jumping up from the bed and pointing a warning finger at you. "You're not going fucking anywhere!" When he sees your wary expression John's eyes soften, instantly regretting his outburst.

Why does he always fuck up? Why can he never seem to keep what makes him happy? Why can't he be what you need?

Homelander buries his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself just like you taught him. "Look, I-" He reluctantly put his hands on each of your shoulders and when you don't flinch away, he starts rubbing circles on your back. You always do it for him when he's upset, so he figures maybe it can help you too. "Please...I'll tell you the truth, okay? Just...don't leave."

You turn around to face him, nodding mutely as he wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. Seeing you cry was gutwrenching, moreso when he was the reason. "I..." he helplessly gestures around, wishing there was a script to this like he was usually provided. "I tend to become...rough."

"So?" The initial hurt now turned into confusion, suspicion even about whether he was telling the truth. You defendingly cross your arms, like a barrier so you wouldn't falter before you got answers.

"I'm not made out of glass." Compared to his strenght, you might as well be. "And I can talk. If you become too wild I'll let you know."

Stubborn as always. But he loved that about you, too. "It's not that easy, Y/N." His head falls in defeat and exasperation. John's about to cry himself, and he hates you seeing him anything less than perfect. "I'll hurt you, and then you'll hate me. Or worse..."

Consciously ignoring the worse part, you cup both sides of his face, making him look up to meet your eyes. "John..."

You straddle his waist again, feeling relief now that you finally understood. Peppering kisses across his face and neck you whisper "I was so, so worried you had grown tired of me..."

"Never." Homelander wasn't someone to apologize often, let alone sincerely. The times he did ever since leaving the lab he can count on one hand.

But despite him being...well, him, John knows best what it's like to be plaqued by insecurities. He hugs you tight enough to make you feel the sincerity of his words. "I only wanted to protect you. I never wanted to make you feel this way."

"Next time talk to me from the start, okay?" You smile softly as he aggrees, and he doubts to be deserving of all your sympathy.

Your hands never leave his body, featherlight touch reassuringly calming his nerves. And yet together with the fact that the only thing currently separating your bodies was your thin panty, it was no wonder that his body reacted the way it did.

A moan disrups your conversation when his cock stiffens again, and you can't help but buck your hips against him in response. Your panties were already soaking anyway, due to the friction and his dirty little deed earlier.

The scent of your lust wipe all negative emotions from your boyfriend's mind, replacing them with something else.

"I want you, John" you breathe against his ear and he whines. "We could just take it slowly..."

"I don't know how" he admits, and you smile at his reluctant aggreement. Gently being shoved down on his back again, it feels like he melts beneathe your fingertips. "Then I'll teach you."

Goosebumps rise on his skin as your fingertips ghost over his body, and you lean over for a longdue kiss, so tender and affectionate John thinks he will fall apart.

Homelander's groan gets swallowed by your lips as you pull your panties aside, slick folds now grinding against his cock. Your name falls from his lips in meek whimpers and you refuse to believe this wonderful man could ever harm you.

"Let me take care of you." Shit, how do you always know exactly what to say?

Raking your hands through your hair as you sit up, air gets stuck in Homelander's throat at the sight, making him choke.

You look fucking magnificent.

Hell, he'd pay an artist to paint you like this so he could look at it forever. If only it didn't require another person seeing you naked...

"You know, I thought it was just my imagination..." A mischievous smile plays on your lips now that you think of it. "But my panties have been disappearing a lot lately."

Your boyfriend didn't respond anything else but a whimmer, shame washing over him at being caught. Not that he was really subtle to begin with.

"Speak up" you tease, giving his shaft a soft squeeze and he instinctively thrusts into your hand like a dog in heat. "Did you use them to get yourself off to your fantasies, huh? Naughty boy." His cock twitches in your palm at the words. "From now on, I want you to come to me for release. Always."

"I trust you" you add as doubt is clearly written on his face, voice firm and as unwavering as your loving eyes, driving tears into his own. You lower yourself on his cock, savouring the feeling of being filled out like this. "Mhh...you feel so good inside of me. Will you behave, John?"

"Y-Yes..." was all he managed to wring out, since it takes every ounce of strenght inside of him to not cum to your sweet affirmations right away. John clutches the bedframe so hard that it crumbles under his grip, but to his surprise you don't wince at the sound - quite the opposite, it shot a wave of heat right through your core.

"John...look at me." You guide his hands away from his eyes to cup your breasts instead, looking at him like he's the best fucking thing in the world. The intensity of your gaze causes him to shiver, makes him wanna hide.

Yes, this is too good to be true.

Whatever you see in him right now he will taint with his own hands given time.

And yet he can't stop anymore, now that he's aware of the depht your love helds for him.

You read him like a damn book, noticing his internal struggle so you silence the voices in his head with a passionate kiss. "So good for me, John" you cheer him on, moving your hips at a low pace.

Tension finally leaves his body and he dives his tongue into your mouth, groaning deeply as he moves his body alongside yours. His touch was careful yet bruising, sending pleasant tingles down your spine.

"I love you, John" you cry out as your foreheads touch, eyes never leaving his. "I love you so damn much!"

That declaration was enough to drive him over the edge.

Homelander pulls you as close as close as humanly possible when he stills momentarily, jackknive-like thrusts chasing after his high. The sounds he made as you got filled up bordered on obscene, as did the amount of cum spilling out of you.

"Shit" he speaks breathlessly against your skin, covering a bitemark he had just caused with kisses. "M'sorry..."

And yet he wasn't willing to let go off of you just yet, this amazing orgasm unable to ward off the embarassment of his poor performance.

"Never apologize for having a good time, silly" you chuckle, brushing your nose against his. "I'm flattered, if anything."

John never knew that sex could be so...satisfying, more than just physically. Filled with carefree laughter instead of expectations.

After all, he was conditioned to never wanna disappoint.

"Nah-a-ah." You yelped as he spun you around effortlessly, now him being the one howering over you, bearing his canines like a starved predator. "I refuse to let my goddess go unworshipped."

"John...I'm okay, really. Sex between lovers is not just about that..." And yet when he opens your legs, you don't resist.

He bets you taste just as fucking good as you smell, feisty little thing. Driving him crazy all those weeks. Do you have any idea how hard it was to endure this sweet torture for your sake?!

A shiver runs down your spine when he licks his lips at the sight of your leaking entrance, taking a deep inhale. There's a hunger in his eyes that no sane person could ever comprehend - but you indulged in it, craved in his twisted kind of love.

Heh, you were a goddamn freak just like him all along, isn't that right?

Homelander takes his time kissing a path down to your navel, admiring the marks he left on your body he was now able to see as the lovebites they are. He briefly looks up to assure himself of your consent, an answering smile all he needs to continue.

"Myyyy tuuuurn" he chants so cheerful, you almost thought he had put on his formal persona.

A relieving finger finally has mercy and slides into your already overstimulated sex, making you arch your back when he curls it inside. Pleads and curses falling from your lips as he enters a second one and then another, and you desperately try to move yourself deeper onto him.

"Attagirl!" Seems like his confidence has returned, at least judging by that damn smug smile his tone indicated. The frustrated pout you wore right now was so adorable, he decided to end your misery and bury his head between your legs as well.

You were still fucking yourself on his fingers while he relished the taste of himself on your pussy, before enveloping your clit with his tongue. "That's my fucking girl right there" he mouths as he ate you out, pumping his fingers keenly on your weak spot he so easily found. "Come on, I want to hear you."

When you came it felt like you were ascending to the afterlife, screaming his name at the top of your lungs before collapsing into the sheets.

Your legs had long since gave out but John put them over his shoulders, humping the mattress while his tongue still ran over your nerve endings, shooting jolts of overwhelming pleasure through your system.

"Oopsie" he coos, a predatory glint in his eyes as he crawled on top of you again, his kiss giving you a taste of your own spent. "Made me hard again."

You eyes flutter open after the last bit of your climax had ebbed out, exhausted yet invitingly batting your lashes as your limbs entangled once again.

"Seems like I found the Homelander's weakness."

[solxamber]

Can I get baker boy Trey realizing that his S/O is a super secret spy for another country. Yet, when confronted, said S/O admits that they faked their death to be with him.

Cocoa Conspiracy - Trey Clover x reader

He knew you as his partner, the love of his life, but he didn't realize your real identity: a spy vying for pastry destruction

Trey Clover wasn’t ready for this. He thought he was just dating you—the quirky, adorable, slightly unpredictable person who occasionally knew way too much about the inner workings of a high-tech security system. Sure, sometimes you went missing for a week without warning, but he figured you were probably just... really into nature hikes? Who was he to judge?

But now here he was, standing in the middle of his beloved kitchen, staring at a government-issued spy dossier that read like something out of a James Bond fever dream. The worst part? Your face was plastered all over it, right next to the words “Top Secret Agent: Wafflia.”

Wafflia.

He had to read it three times before it clicked. “Dear...” he began, holding up the papers like they were a particularly burnt batch of cookies. “Why does it say you’re an undercover agent sent by the nation of Wafflia to... sabotage the pastry industry? What is this?”

You, who had just casually walked in, munching on a muffin like it was a normal Wednesday, paused mid-chew. “Oh. Right. That.” You glanced at the folder in his hands like it was an old grocery receipt. “I, uh... meant to tell you about that.”

Trey blinked. “Tell me? You meant to tell me?”

You shrugged, your voice a little too nonchalant for someone who’d just been outed as a literal international spy. “Look, babe, I can explain—”

“Explain? You’ve been sent to ruin all pastries in Twisted Wonderland!” Trey threw up his hands, a little more animated than usual, which was saying something. “Pastries! My life revolves around pastries! Why didn’t you tell me you were some kind of... dessert assassin?!”

You chewed thoughtfully for a moment, as if considering the best way to let him down easy. “Well, first of all, ‘dessert assassin’ makes it sound way cooler than it actually is. I mean, it’s mostly paperwork. And second of all... I didn’t really take the mission seriously. I was distracted.”

“Distracted? By what, the buttercream frosting?” Trey snapped, incredulous.

“No, by you.” You rolled your eyes like it was obvious, casually finishing the muffin. “You know, because we’re dating. Thought that was kind of important.” You flicked a crumb off your shirt, as if this entire conversation wasn’t wildly absurd. “I couldn’t exactly go around destroying pastries when you bake this good. Do you even know how hard it is to sabotage a cake when it tastes like it was baked by an angel? It’s basically sabotage-proof.”

Trey blinked. “Wait. So, you’re telling me the only reason you haven’t followed through with your evil pastry-destroying mission is because... my desserts are too good?”

“Yup!” You gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up. “Honestly, if Wafflia tasted your cupcakes, they’d probably call the whole thing off.”

Trey’s eye twitched. “...Wafflia?”

“Tiny nation. Mostly waffles. A little maple syrup industry on the side. Really not a big deal.”

“You are literally a government agent from a country that declared war on bakeries!”

You sighed dramatically, as if he was the one overreacting here. “Yeah, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that I faked my death to be with you.”

Trey stared at you like you had just slapped him with a pie. “You what.”

“I faked my death. Big explosion. Very cool. It was like something out of a Michael Bay movie, except with fewer explosions and way more sparkles. It’s kind of the Wafflian signature. Anyway, I’m legally dead now.” You leaned back against the counter, looking incredibly proud of yourself. “Did it all for you.”

Trey was about three seconds away from emotionally combusting. “You... faked... your death... so you could—”

“Ditch the life of a spy and bake tarts with you, obviously.” You grinned like this was all completely reasonable. “It’s called love, Trey.”

Trey had to sit down. He dragged a chair across the kitchen floor, the sound screeching in the sudden silence. He sat down heavily, trying to process the information bomb you had just dropped in his very innocent, pastry-filled kitchen. “So, let me get this straight. You were a secret spy for a country that wants to destroy desserts—the thing I care about most in the world—and you faked your death to... retire?”

“With you,” you corrected, grabbing a tart from the tray and taking a huge bite. “I mean, why else would I fake my death? Have you seen how good you look when you’re rolling out dough? I’m not giving that up.”

Trey blinked at you, his brain malfunctioning at the speed of light. “You—what—I just—how are you—”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Look, babe, relax. All I’m saying is, Wafflia thinks I’m dead, I think you’re hot, and your strawberry tarts are so good that I’ve basically retired from espionage to live out the dream with you. Problem solved.”

Trey opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, resembling a fish out of water. “...I don’t know if I should be flattered or horrified.”

“Why not both?” You waggled your eyebrows, licking the last of the tart crumbs off your fingers. “I’m flexible.”

Trey buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I just wanted to bake some bread. I didn’t sign up for all this—secret spy, faked your death, sabotage the pastry world—what even is this.”

You patted him on the back, still munching. “Hey, look on the bright side. At least I’m not sabotaging your desserts.”

Trey peeked at you from between his fingers. “And... what about other people’s desserts?”

You smirked. “Well... no promises. But I’ll probably keep it to a minimum. For you.”

He groaned louder.

I didn't know if you wanted it serious or silly, but i made it silly. let me know if you wanted it more serious!

Masterlist

[defectivevillain]

until it doesn't hurt

pairing: Bruce Banner/Reader

reader’s pronouns: they/them

the reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no physical descriptors are used.

summary: “I could’ve caused you irreversible harm,” Bruce says. It’s almost a practiced recitation at this point, and you have to wonder if he truly believes that—or if he’s just been conditioned by everyone around him to believe he is only capable of inflicting pain. “You didn’t,” you maintain, for what feels like the thousandth time. Bruce is so caught up in the hypotheticals that he refuses to see the success right in front of him: the fact that he didn’t so much as lay a finger on you.

word count: 2.9k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence

Being an Avenger means you have to be ready for anything at all times. That spontaneity is difficult to adjust to at first, but as time passes, you grow used to it. You grow used to sleeping lightly; to stashing weapons just about anywhere you can keep them; to having few restful days and many restless ones. The moment your powers manifested, you knew you would be a hero: not because you wanted to be one, but because it would be your responsibility to protect those who needed protecting. 

You weren’t always an Avenger. At first, you were just a rogue—kind of a vigilante. But then the attack on New York happened—Loki happened—and everything flew out the window. Suddenly, you were out on the street in broad daylight, trying your best to keep the civilians safe. That was how you crashed into Iron Man of all people. You exchanged banter and insults, but when it came down to it, you protected him, and he protected you. And Tony is extremely persistent—it didn’t take long for him to sink his claws into you and drag you back to the Avengers Tower. 

From there, you gradually get to know the other Avengers. Steve and Clint are relatively friendly right off the bat. Natasha is a bit more difficult—you have to earn her trust before she starts to open up to you. But eventually, somehow, you manage to bond with all of the other occupants of the Tower. At least, all of them except Bruce Banner. 

Bruce is an interesting case. He almost immediately dismissed you when Tony first introduced you, instead deigning to focus on his experiments. You hadn’t taken offense to Bruce’s reclusive behavior, nor had you taken the hint that he didn’t want to get to know you. Instead, you had all but forced him to acknowledge you. This manifested in a multitude of ways: from going out of your way to talk to him to offering to help with his research. Bruce is extremely protective of his laboratory, but somehow he deemed you capable enough to serve as his laboratory assistant. You were more than content to hand him capsules and adjust minor things, while he did the brunt of the work. You took the gifted opportunities to attempt to get to know him better. At first, it was like speaking to a brick wall. But somewhere along the way, his cold and uncaring façade began to crack. You slowly worked your way up to meaningless small talk—and, later, casual conversation.

Truthfully, you really enjoy spending time with Bruce. But he’s rather unpredictable—sometimes he’ll push you away, and other times he’ll play along. You know that he has a lot of baggage—what with his childhood and his alter-ego. You’ve been trying to convince him that you care about him—that you’re not going to abandon him or villainize him—but he doesn’t ever seem to believe you. He always conducts himself with some semblance of suspicion and doubt; it almost seems like he’s waiting for you to wake up to reality and run away screaming.

Still, progress is progress—no matter how slow. You’re happy with how you’ve slowly bonded with him, and you can only hope that there’s more on the horizon for the both of you. 

…You never consider the possibility that something could happen to make things worse—to destroy your progress and send you right back to the start. 

“We need you for something.”

You’re brutally torn from your reverie, forced to slowly come back to yourself. You’re sitting in the living room, staring ahead at the blank wall. How long have you been sitting here? All you know is that it’s no longer light outside, and that Natasha is standing in front of you with a firm expression. 

“I- what?” You stammer, still processing what’s happening. “Nat-”

“It’s important,” she says. You get to your feet before she can continue speaking. “Trust me.” You do trust her. Natasha isn’t one for over-exaggeration or dramatics; when she says something is important, she means it. And the grave expression on her face is only worrying you more. You follow after her as she walks down the hall and towards the elevators. The two of you step into the space and she presses a button, before the elevator slowly rises. 

In hindsight, perhaps you should’ve been a bit more suspicious. Why would she be taking you to another floor in the Tower? Typically, when there’s a new development or an imminent threat, you’ll be directed to another location—either to combat the threat or to strategize. Furthermore, there’s a strained silence in the air between Natasha and you. Nat’s shoulders are drawn tight and she’s staring ahead pointedly, as if avoiding your eyes. 

The elevator dings and you breathe an internal sigh of relief, hoping to get rid of this needless tension. But before you can begin to take a step, you’re being roughly shoved out of the elevator and into the hallway. It takes you several moments to get your bearings—at which point you recognize the telltale sounds of the doors behind you closing, and the elevator dropping back down to where you came. You stare at the closed doors in disbelief, before turning to look back down the hall. One of the recreational rooms is straight ahead, and you hear yelling. 

Once you’re standing in the doorway, you’re able to place the inexplicable noises you were hearing. Bruce is in his Hulk form, green and raging as he throws anything within his grasp at the walls around him. You’re willing to bet Natasha brought you here to do something about this. Why she thinks you’re the best person to calm Bruce down, you’re not sure. 

“Bruce,” you say slowly. Bruce promptly freezes, an exercise machine lifted over his head. He stares down at you; you stare up at him. He’s momentarily distracted by you. “It’s okay.” He’s silent. You hold your hands out at your sides in mock surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you,” you continue. “You’re safe.”

Silence. You take a slow breath. The machine he’s holding over his head drops a fraction of an inch. 

“It’s okay, Bruce.” You repeat, pushing as much conviction into your voice as you can. Your effort seems to work, as his eyebrows furrow. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence as the two of you stare at each other. Then, his visage shifts and you’re suddenly looking at Bruce Banner—disheveled and exhausted.

“Are you alright-?” You’re compelled to ask. The scientist is back in human form, wearing nothing but a tattered pair of pants; bruises and scratches litter his skin; and there’s a distant expression on his face. He seems to snap out of his trance when he hears your voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bruce then spits. You immediately flinch at the unexpected anger. “Seriously, what the fuck are you doing here?” His gaze is flitting about the room quickly, before settling on you with fevered intensity. You’ve never seen Bruce look so irate before. He’s a remarkably composed man (although you suspect he bottles up anger and rage and lets it out in bursts as the Hulk). Indeed, this kind of fury is typical for the Hulk, but exceedingly rare for Bruce. 

“I didn’t-” You choke out helplessly, glancing back at the hall and, by extension, the elevator. “They-” It’s inexplicably difficult for you to get the words out. 

“That was our doing.” A voice confesses from behind you. You turn around to find Nat and Tony standing behind you. The two of them approach and come to a stop at your side. 

Bruce’s gaze locks on them with fiery focus. He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His glasses are nowhere to be seen—he must’ve dropped them somewhere as he transformed. “I expected better from both of you.”

“Bruce-” Tony tries to say, an apologetic expression on his face. 

“What on earth made you think that throwing them out as bait was a good idea?” Bruce interjects furiously, motioning towards you. “You could’ve gotten them seriously injured!” He exclaims. Tony has the good grace to look embarrassed; Nat is staring ahead with a flat expression and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Bruce, I’m fine-” You try to say, quickly growing uncomfortable with the tension settling in the air. 

“I could’ve harmed you,” Bruce is quick to assert. “Easily.” His voice is cold. 

“But you didn’t,” you maintain. He’s not giving himself enough credit. More troubling is the idea that he has faith in his own cruelty—that he only sees himself as capable of harming someone. You don’t know what else to say, don’t know what could possibly be said to repair the evident years of damage done to this man’s psyche. The entire world has treated him as a weapon at best and an uncontrollable, irredeemable monster at worst.

“That doesn’t matter,” Bruce says with unshakeable certainty. He retreats from the room, leaving you to stare after him in confusion and shock. You turn to face Natasha and Tony, who are both staring at the doorway with complex looks. 

You want to tell them off, but the words that leave your lips are far different than you intend them to be. “Should I go after him?” You ask instead. Bruce is the primary concern right now—you can chew Tony and Nat out later. You’ve known him for a bit now, and have grown to interpret his expressions fairly easily. You’ve seen Bruce express a lot of emotions… but the look on his face just now is completely foreign to you. 

“Probably,” Tony admits. 

“I don’t think we should,” Natasha says, motioning towards Tony and herself. “He’s mad at us. And… rightfully so.” She exchanges a glance with Tony, whose lips are pressed in a thin line. It’s clear they didn’t give enough thought to their whole plan. 

“You’ll be fine, though,” Tony says with unfounded conviction. Nat places a hand on your shoulder and grips it reassuringly. You take a deep breath and come to a decision, walking down the hall and towards the elevator doors. 

Moments later, you’re walking out of the lift and down the dim hallway leading to Bruce’s bedroom. He’s entirely alone on this floor of the tower. You pause in front of his door for a few seconds, wondering if you should walk away. But you can’t. Instead, you knock on the door four times. “Bruce?” You ask. Despite the clear sturdiness of the door, he’s able to hear you. 

“Go away.” Bruce responds. His voice is a little muffled, and you have to strain to hear him. 

You’re hurt for the briefest of moments. Then you shelve the feeling and resolve yourself to tackling it later. “I’m coming in,” you announce, placing your hand against the scanner at the edge of the doorway. The scanner flashes green and the door slides open, revealing Bruce’s bedroom. You’ve never been here before. It’s modestly decorated, with mostly monotone shades. Nothing particularly strikes you, save for the giant desk in the corner of the room. Papers litter the entire surface of the desk, and a few are covered by Bruce’s arms. 

The man doesn’t look up as you approach. “I don’t want to see you,” Bruce says. His back is turned and you’re unable to see his expression. 

“I don’t care,” you respond, taking a few steps into the space until you’re a short (yet seemingly insurmountable) distance from Bruce. He’s sitting at his desk, rubbing his hands over his eyes roughly. It doesn’t take long for you to remember your guilt. “Bruce, I don’t want you to torture yourself over this.” Maybe you shouldn’t have interfered in the first place. 

“I could’ve caused you irreversible harm,” Bruce says. It’s almost a practiced recitation at this point, and you have to wonder if he truly believes that—or if he’s just been conditioned by everyone around him to believe he is only capable of inflicting pain. 

“You didn’t,” you maintain, for what feels like the thousandth time. Bruce is so caught up in the hypotheticals that he refuses to see the success right in front of him: the fact that he didn’t so much as lay a finger on you. 

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Bruce says with a shake of his head. He pushes himself out of his chair and gets to his feet, turning around to face you. Your eyes widen as you notice the torn expression on his face, the dark circles under his eyes, and the determination written in every line of his form. “My eyes locked onto you and, for a split second, I envisioned harming you. Deliberately.” The confession clings to the air like a vice. 

“But you didn’t act on that impulse,” you assert. “You suppressed it.” 

“So?” Bruce argues. “I still had the urge. You should be disgusted, afraid-” 

“I’m not afraid of you, Bruce,” you interrupt. The statement lingers heavily in the air between the two of you. For a long moment, there’s nothing but the faint hum you’ve grown to associate with the Tower itself.  

“You should be,” Bruce then mutters. And suddenly he’s standing in front of you, staring at you with a dark gaze. His fists are clenched at his sides and you see his skin flicker with shades of green, before it returns to normal. The man maneuvers you to the side and shoves you, until you’re hitting the wall behind you. Bruce’s hands move up to your shirt collar and he clenches at it, his fingers almost spasming as he tightens his grip. You just stare at him. “I could ruin you.” He murmurs, so quietly that you have to strain to hear it. 

You want to argue with him so badly, but that strategy hasn’t been working so far. For some reason, Bruce has convinced himself that he not only has the capacity to hurt you, but that he wants to. You know that can’t be true, but how can you convince him? If he thinks he can ruin you… “Then do it,” you challenge him. He meets your eyes once more and you stare back unflinchingly, trying to convey how much you trust him. 

If you thought the tension was suffocating before, it’s practically ripping the breath from your lungs now. Everything around you seems to fade into obscurity. All you can see is Bruce; all you can feel is Bruce. His fingers twitch and his grip falls from your collar. For an awful moment, you think he’s going to walk away—turn his back on you as he has done so many times before. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans closer. If he’s trying to get you to back down, then it isn’t working. 

At first, you want to think that Bruce is testing you. But the way he’s regarding you right now—with glittering desire in his eyes—makes you think otherwise. His hands move from the wall to your shoulders, back to the nape of your neck, until he gently tugs you forward. It’s hardly a strong pull, and you understand the choice he’s giving you. 

But, you think fondly, there was never much of a choice. From the moment you locked eyes with him, you knew he would dominate your thoughts. And indeed, he has. You think about the hard-won look of approval in his eyes when you make an astute observation; the way he almost frantically looks across the battlefield, his posture instantly relaxing once he sees you; the contradictions written all over his skin; the rare smiles you feel privileged to see. 

You lean forward and press your lips to his. Bruce is quick to reciprocate, his hands lingering at the nape of your neck before slipping down to your waist. You lock your arms around his shoulders, practically trapping him in your embrace. But from the strength of his grip, you can ascertain that the gesture is more than welcome. 

Later, when you break apart, Bruce has a disbelieving expression on his face. He looks slightly dazed, as if suspicious of the reality he now finds himself in. You grasp his wrist gently. 

“You can’t get rid of me, Bruce,” You murmur insistently, “...no matter how hard you try.”

He stares at you for another long moment. “And I have tried,” Bruce admits through a dry huff. You want to be offended by the comment, but you know it’s true. Bruce is stupidly self-sacrificing—he purposefully keeps his distance from people to protect them. But the reality of the situation is that people will come to harm regardless of his presence. “But you’re too stubborn.” That statement is spoken with a significant amount of fondness, and his hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You bring your hand up to rest on top of his. 

“I’ll always be here, even when you don’t want me to be.” You promise. And maybe that promise isn’t yours to make, because one can never truly predict what will come next. But somehow, deep down, you know it to be true. 

Bruce brings you close once more, an uncharacteristic note of boldness in the fluid movement. When you step back moments later, you find that he has a hint of a smile on his face. “I know,” Bruce says, the traces of apprehension on his face breaking and cracking to reveal a rare sight: unrestrained affection.

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[sarasade]

It's been pretty interesting to follow the

"Why Didn't Viren Get Redeemed vs Viren Got What Was Coming To Him"

discussion after The Dragon Prince's 6th season got released.

Hot Take

I think Viren got redeemed.

Because to me Viren humbling himself and acknowledging the hurt he has caused was redeeming. His conversation with Soren was the main event. His rather heroic death was only the cherry on top of the character development cake that has been baking since s4.

I think Viren dying wasn't as significant as what he did before that and how he tried to provide Soren with some kind of comfort and closure, you know, as a parent should, before going. Viren's redemption wasn't just him dying for Katolis but acknowledging his wrongdoings and trying to salvage what he could.

That was pretty redeeming for me at least. Viren did the right thing even when he knew there wouldn't be any reward for it. Even if he couldn't stop Aaravos from destroying Katolis or manipulating Claudia even after his death. Like, man, I kinda feel for the guy.

I think it has always pretty easy to feel sympathy for Viren. Viren wants to matter and wants to be important. However, his grandiosity, as psychologists would call it, keeps him from creating genuine connections with others. His friends, wife and children are only there to prop up his ego or get rejected if they fail to live up to his expectations. It's also pretty damn tragic that Viren opens up about his deep insecurities to Aaravos of all people. Someone who was the most likely person in the world to exploit these insecurities for his own gain.

Viren had to taste his own medicide but I don't think TDP says that's an objectively good thing per se or that we should enjoy this sort of revenge fantasy uncritically. Viren is still portrayed rather sympathetically and of course there is the part about his actions affecting others and the world in unpredictable ways. It's still a tragedy because Viren's actions and personal problems have caused so much collateral damage. The Why behind Aaravos exploiting Viren and Claudia is part of that tragedy, too. There are no winners here. In a way Viren is a victim of his own narcissistic tendencies, too.

This isn't just about the final episodes of Viren's arc. To me it's essential to ask What was Viren's biggest sin he should be redeemed or punished for? Depending on your answer you may have a relatively different reading of s6 story development compared to mine.

To me it's not a specific action he took but his whole worldview. Viren is a fictional character (duh!) so his story isn't exactly literal but metaphorical, a representation of certain values and morals real people and society holds. In s3 TDP draws a pretty straightforward, though brief, comparison between Viren and reactionary right-wing ideologues. It's not exactly subtle.

It's just one way TDP goes to show how toxic and abusive Viren's core values are. that gets reflected both in Viren's personal life aka how he treated Lissa, Soren and even Harrow and Claudia (last two more indirectly). Since he also had a ton of political power as a high mage and briefly as a king we see what he did with that power. It's a pretty clear take on people who dehumanise others, fetishise power and see all living things as something to exploit. TDP explores that both philosophically and psychologically through Viren. Dark magic encapsulates this philosophy well since using magical creatures like tools or objects is essential for it to work.

Also also- I don't really get why people see redemption or atonement as something black and white. It's not bad or anything but Redeeming Yourself For Your Sins is a very Christian concept and Christianity isn't the only way to understand villain story arcs. Like I wish there could be more discussion about WHY redemption is the main analytical framework we impose on villains when villainous characters have a ton of variety anyway.

I don't really have anything to complain about Viren's death itself and I'm not surprised that he ended up dying (for real this time). Aaravos seemed like someone who'd turn against Viren the moment he stopped being useful to him so Viren's life has been hanging by a thread since s4. Viren was the best part of TDP and every scene he's been in had been a delight, well expect the s5 dream sequence because it was too long-winded and obvious, anyway, I'm sorry to see him go and I look forward writing AU fix-it fics where he and Aaravos are married and run a hot brown morning potion shop with all their four totally not dead children. RIP Viren. You lived like a messy bitch and died like a messy bitch. Iconic.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Habit ~ E.O.

A/n: This felt the way eating something for the first time in a longen time when you are it a lot as a kid? Does that make sense? Idk I just love it

Request: “...Enoch O’Connor x Male I beg of thee” by anon

Word count: 2200+

MASTERLIST

Jake was the most annoying person Y/n had ever met.

The problem with a boy shaking the very core of the way Miss Peregrine's Home worked, is that there was a set routine. Not just the same day, every day. Not just the same clothes. Not just the same activities and expectations, but also the same people. The same dynamics. Everything was clear and simple and predictable - as it was supposed to be. It was Enoch and Horace and Olive and Fiona and Claire and Emma and Millard and Bronwyn and Hugh and the twins and Y/n. They all had their chores, their meals, and their rooms. Wake up, do the exact same thing, reset the day, go to bed.

In some ways, Jake changing everything was nice. Emma was happier with him, and they were safer now. They'd always be safe now. Miss Peregrine didn't have to deal with her imperfect day, and they had lots of new friends.

Change was hard though, and unpredictable. Emma and Jake, and then Fiona and Hugh. And then suddenly everyone was a lot less okay with Enoch and Y/n pining for each other but never doing anything about it.

Enoch and Y/n had always been like this. They avoided each other despite everything, somehow having pulled it off for decades straight now. Anytime they did talk, the room seemed to go still. They were insatiable, starving for each other. Every look was too long, and yet too short. Every conversation saturated with so much emotion neither boy could handle it.

Being a teenager was hard.

But for decades, everyone had left it alone. At some point the distance and awkwardness and desperate yearning had become a part of the routine. Wake up, do what you did everyday, glance over the way Y/n's breath caught, a smile tugging to his face when Enoch brought something to life, ignore the way Enoch's eyes lingered when Y/n began to chat with a bird or squirrel or worm.

Even Fiona was good at it, and she was Y/n's sister. They had always been far more concerned with their own relationship as siblings. Two halves of one whole - a plant gift and an animal gift. Flora and fauna.

But now she was busy with her own crush, and without her there to fill Y/n's time, it was more and more obvious how ridiculously in love he was. Olive had met a girl in the other loop they'd joined who had wings, and the two had been having a ball flying around together - which meant Enoch was more available than normal as well.

Of course they ended up in the same space more often than they usually did.

The new kids weren't used to the pining. It wasn't routine, they hadn't learned to ignore it. And the more they pointed out that the way Enoch and Y/n acted wasn't a just-friends-and-family feelings kind of situation, the more the other kids acknowledged it too. Suddenly everyone was looking at the boys expectantly, and with all those eyes on them... it was hard to ignore their own situation even more.

This was especially hard on Y/n. He had always known he wasn't going to end up with some epic love like in the books. Even before the loop, everyone had marked him as insane and weird. His little sister could make flowers grow in the palm of her hand, and her older brother knew all the town secrets because the pets could talk to him. But after the loop? The options were so limited and he was gay - it wasn't going to happen. No way in hell that with one person he could even possibly end up with, who he liked, liked him back. That sort of thing was difficult to find even with several options. But one?

Not to mentioned he hadn't really come to terms with the fact that he wasn't straight. Everyone knew he was into Enoch, but outside of that they had no idea what was going on with his sexuality. He'd never opened up about it, and flat out denied anytime someone had asked. Even Fiona had nothing to offer in terms of information - he hadn't told her anything either. Which was weird, because they knew a lot about each other. She was his confidante.

He'd never even admitted it to himself.

That wasn't good enough for Leroy and Sofie though. They were two of the kids from the other loop, and they were determined to play match maker between the two boys. It was how a harmless game night had gone so terribly wrong. They had convinced Jake to talk about all the silly, immature party games he had heard of and to "experience the culture they were missing out on" all the kids from both loops had been dragged into several different rounds of truth and dare and spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven. Nothing happened for most of the people, who only fist bumped or took the opportunity to info dump in a space where the other person had no option to listen.

And then Enoch and Y/n got picked.

For the first ten minutes, both boys were completely composed. But Enoch had a very good understanding of time and as more than seven minutes passed, he grew agitated. "It's been long enough, let us out," he called.

When all that came back from the other side was giggling, Y/n got irritated too. Being this close to Enoch was bad enough without there being a foreseeable end in sight. "Guys. Guys!"

"Talk about your feelings!" Sofie called back, and a dozen pairs of feet could be heard on the stairs, leaving Enoch and Y/n. In a closet. Locked for who knows how long. Alone in an entire room, in the basement.

Miss Peregrine would put it together and come and get them before dinner, but... even that was a long way away.

It was quiet a long time, but eventually even Enoch couldn't handle it. He broke first.

"Are we just going to wait for Miss Peregrine?"

Y/n shrugged. "They all left, so... It's not like even if I did anything here they'd let us out."

"Did anything?" Enoch scoffed. "Did what exactly."

"I don't know," Y/n snapped. Both boys were rather hot headed and tended to interact with each other through biting remarks and snarky banter. These snippy words were familiar to them.

Enoch rolled his eyes. "I'm not just going to sit here that whole time. At least tell me what they think we need to share feelings about?"

Y/n shrugged. "Beats me."

Another king quiet and then Enoch seemed to soften. He had changed a lot since Jake too. He had been so defensive of Emma before, but now he saw the flaw in that. Emma and Jake were happy, and more than anything he... envied them. He wanted that. And he had wasted enough time keeping himself from it. If Emma could open her heart to getting broke to risk love and succeed... maybe he could too. "Y/n."

"What?" He was gorgeous. That withering look and unwavering attitude. Enoch loved that he could always keep up, matching any sass off or sarcastic comment. Often beating Enoch at what he had always considered as his own private game. A game he never lost at... until Y/n. Y/n who found his homunculus fascinating instead of disturbing and never scared at even the worst of Enoch's attempts. Y/n who was so awkward and brash with people, but so gentle and calm and caring toward animals. Y/n, who was his best self out in the woods with no shoes on and a smile on his face as he closed his eyes and listened to the wind through the trees, the birds singing, the bugs buzzing...

"Do you want to play Twenty Questions?" It was another of Jake's silly games. They had planned to play it after Seven Minutes in Heaven but, well, now they were locked in a closet.

Y/n shot him a withering look, cocking an eyebrow. "No."

Enoch's lips almost twitched into a smile. "Come on. Since when are you more of a buzz kill than I am?"

Y/n sighed. "Fine. Whatever." He looked at Enoch again and couldn't help but soften. They were both like this. Hard to touch, impossible to get close to. Rough and snappy. Except for those select few. For Enoch, it was the girls. Fiona and Claire had it the easiest; Olive had to work for it; Emma had gotten under his skin after Abe. For Y/n, there was no one who had worked their way into his good graces as well as Enoch had. He of course had softness for the kids, always taking to children who needed someone to have their back - even if they wouldn't admit it - but Enoch was still special. He always was.

Enoch swallowed a smile, matching Y/n's casual energy. They both leaned against the wall, Y/n crossing his arms over his chest and Enoch slipping his hands in his pocket. "You go first," Enoch encouraged. There was something playing in his eyes, so bright it shone even in the low lighting.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unsure. "Okay... what's your favorite color?" It was a dumb question - he already knew - which meant that if Y/n wasn't going to try neither was Enoch.

"Triangle." He smirked, then leaned forward. "Do you like men?"

There was a long silence in the closet. It felt... horribly fitting. Suffocatingly on point. "Why do you ask?"

"That's not an answer," he shot back.

Y/n's face burned. "That's a dumb question! You've never cared once in our decades of friendship and now you do? Why?"

"Because of Jake." Y/n almost began going off about how annoying Jake was, but Enoch cut him off. "I thought everything was set in stone. He were the group we'd always been. Abe proved it to me. We can get smaller, but never bigger. But then Jake came along and left behind everything for Emma. And I realized, maybe that's what love is. Maybe it's giving up what was for what could be. Because it's worth it. And if I made a leap like that, I won't even have to give anything up. All I have to do is take the first step."

His voice was so soothing, but his words were like shots of ice through Y/n's veins. It was a startling contrast. "Enoch..." He frowned, pursing his lips. He couldn't look at the other boy. "What would you do if I asked you that? You can't expect me to-"

"I do. I like men."

Y/n's jaw dropped. He snapped it closed after a beat, eyes trained on Enoch. The other boy seemed... excited. Genuinely. "And you're telling me this... for a reason. I assume?" Enoch just nodded. He wasn't just excited; he was nervous too. To be fair, so was Y/n. "Because you like me?" He asked, even more softly.

Enoch hesitated. Then nodded. "I... have. For a long time."

Y/n sighed, head falling back against the wall. A part of him wanted to argue, wanted to fight it. Wanted to stick his head in the sand.

But a much larger part of him knew that this had been coming for a long time.

“I thought when I told you I was into men it would be scarier.” Enoch laughed at Y/n’s confession, and it was only a split second before Y/n joined him. It was completely bizarre and borderline ridiculous. They’d been denying their feelings so long it had become habit. First out of hesitation. You never know exactly how someone would react to something. And then it was friendship. They were so close, and they’d gotten into a pattern of thought. They were only friends - nothing else was possible. But as everything around them changed, pattern had no room in their life anymore. So habit had taken over.

And now…

Y/n rested his head on Enoch’s shoulder, hesitantly taking his hand. Enoch sighed, squeezing back. Reassuring him.

“I like you specifically,” Y/n piped up.

Enoch’s smile was small as he tried to fight it, but the blush across his cheeks gave him away. “I like you too.” Y/n chuckled again, and Enoch echoed him. Like their energy was bouncing off of each other, growing. Becoming simply by the existence of the other.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be in here,” Enoch sighed. The closet was too much a metaphor, but even more-

“I don’t like that everyone’s forced so much onto us,” Y/n agreed. “Thank god they did, but-“

Enoch huffed with amusement. “But I don’t want them to have everything. Some things are just for you and me?” Y/n nodded and Enoch smiled, leaning close and pressing his lips to Y/n’s forehead. Y/n sighed, content. They stayed like that until the close door was opened, several pairs of curious eyes staring in at them.

“Are you together now?”

Y/n and Enoch exchanged looks and then scrambled to their feet, both shouldering the door open and slipping out. Everyone was laughing - even the ones who tried desperately to lock the pair back in the room.

And so the boys were out of the closet.

They took each others’ hand again when they settled onto the couch together, an everyone had to agree: that could be enough.

[drconstellation]

First-Order Archangels

Part 1: Maybe You'll Spot An Archangel

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking.

While I was writing my meta series The Passion Of Jimbriel it became fairly obvious to me there was something more going on between Crowley and Gabriel in S2 than just the numerous pointers to Crowley's pre-fall angel status. They are acting as both parallels and foils to each other, and in places you can swap their characters and get the same story at a different time – and that just opens up a whole new window of context and insight into things. For pre-reading, see this meta from @vidavalor that nicely lists some obvious parallels. It doesn’t mention everything though, so I’m going to discuss parts in more detail.

A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.

There is a lengthy original discussion about Crowley's pre-fall angel status here, for pre-reading. It points out the obvious and some not so obvious points that ops have noticed in S2 telling us about Crowley's pre-fall status. Rather than just go through them all again, I'd like to look at some other scenes in S2 that also tell us something about both the similarities and the differences between these two high-powered entities as I go along. In addition, I’ve done a series of posts looking at Gabriel as a shoulder angel (links at the end of post,) because quite often he’s on the demonic left-hand side – which makes sense when you realize he’s a Crowley parallel.

Take the arrival of Gabriel to Whickber St and the bookshop. I’ve already mentioned this parallel story line a couple of times now, but lets look at it again in more detail. It mirrors the opening of S1E1 where the serpent climbs the wall of the Garden of Eden, morphs into a demon and starts to converse with the angel standing on the wall.

Back in the present day, we have a Gabriel, who also tends to present on the sinister-side, walking up to the gate of the present day Garden (the bookshop), which is still guarded by the same angel as it was 6000 years ago, and basically tells Aziraphale he has “fallen.”

How to we know this? It is a reference to the Fall of Man, when Adam and Eve ate the apple the serpent offered them, they suddenly became aware of their nakedness, and hid from God. Gabriel has already upset the love-apple tomato cart on his way to the door of the bookshop, its a sign of the chaos to come.

The fallen angel is not sure of his name, so he prompts with a question…

And asks for shelter under the (reluctant) angel’s wing..

But there is one thing he does know, the one thing that drew him to Aziraphale in the first place:

AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

Later, Aziraphale realizes that he must give Gabriel a new name to hide him – because fallen angels take on a new name, don’t they? Just like Crowley did.

Then we get a confession:

Which is what Crowley loves about Aziraphale as well - that bit of unpredictability, because you know how humour kind of works? It throws the unexpected at you.

Early on in S2 we find out they are both in trouble: first His Royal Smugness, then Our Hero himself. Our view is turned upside down, with the angel made the bad guy and the demon the good guy who needs to win. But both of them are being hunted by Shax.

Then we get one of the early clues pointing to Crowley's high status as an angel:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed. CROWLEY: Mm? SHAX: Somewhere very close to your friend's bookshop. Are you telling me you don't know what caused it? CROWLEY: How'd you know I didn't do it?

Shax stalks and threatens both of them, sometimes at the same time:

Another parallel Gabriel and Crowley shared in S2 were associating their identity - no, lets rephrase that - "essence" was one description I've seen - with boxes.

Gabriel arrives with a box that strategically covers his front, and quickly tosses it aside once Aziraphale opens the door to the bookshop. It lies forgotten until Gabriel mentions it a while later. Inside it is the fly from Beelzebub - an object from Hell - so it really needs to be 'invited' across the threshold of the bookshop by Aziraphale to be able to enter. The box initially appears to be empty, Once inside, the fly is free to roam. It has a message written on one side of it.

The same goes for the matchbox. Message included.

ah, wot? you say. Yep.

The matchbox represents Crowley, probably in more ways than one, but I'll just go through the stuff relevant to this meta here.

I notice I'm not the only op to connect the line from the Book of Job on the side of the matchbox with Crowley. The line is from Verse 41, which talks about Leviathan. Among the various shapes it is described to take is a great sea serpent. This deserves its own meta for further discussion, which I plan to do after this one, because yes, Crowley is Leviathan in disguise, but there is much more to it than that. But for now, just know that the matchbox is Crowley.

Once you know this, it makes sense that Muriel finds it - a discarded cardboard box by the front door to Heaven - and deals with a material object that shouldn't by rights exist in Heaven. Then a certain demon finds Muriel lurking outside during the siege on the bookshop at the end of S2E5, and talks them into letting the certain demon be escorted up into Heaven where he doesn't belong, where he's free to roam around - only he needs a guide because he's not sure where to go. Ah Muriel, you poke the Serpent, he's going to poke you back. Good thing he likes you, and it just was a gentle nudge.

Two empty boxes, two cases of memory-loss. That is what S2 seems to suggest to us at first glance.

Gabriel's seems to be the most straight forward in hindsight - find the fly and restore Gabriel to his original "Gabriel-ness." But its more complicated than that. When pushed to remember, his lilac eyes return and another voice can be heard speaking through him of the past. This happens twice, with the second one being part-prophecy. What is really triggering these episodes of channeling? Is it God or someone else speaking through him? We really aren't sure at this point in time.

Then there are questions around Crowley's memory. Did he have his memory wiped when he fell? Was it wiped repeatedly? Was it not wiped at all, and he just pretends he doesn't remember? Neil has even said he is an unreliable narrator about his own Fall, so who are we to trust at this point? Crowley does seem to understand in the end some of the problems Gabriel is having with his absent memories and that brings them to a temporary truce.

Both Aziraphale and Michael inspect their respective "empty" boxes, and neither notices anything obviously amiss. Gabriel's box just seems empty to Aziraphale, he takes no notice of the fly container in there, and archangel Michael tentatively inspects the matchbox brought to them by Muriel but nothing seems out of place there either.

Crowley's change in costume in Heaven during his little infiltration caper with Muriel is also another clue to his past status as an archangel. He has a silvery-gray suit, similar in style to Saraqael's to reinforce the link with them, but at the same time he is also mocking the other archangels and their elite status. We've assumed for a while now that the appearance of the tactical turtleneck signals that Crowley is up to something sneaky or spy related, but I'm starting to think it also relates to a bit of a power play (and Crowley certainly laid the power on for Mr Brown in the pub!) Looking back at S1, Gabriel's not adverse to wearing one either when he needs to be at his worst (or best. Your choice.)

The way one dresses is a way of expressing and reinforcing authority, and its something both Gabriel and Crowley do without much thought. They have been used to being in a position of power and/or independent authority for much of their existence, and I would say that even if Crowley is a few steps down now from where he started, and he's more cautious around those higher ranking than him than he used to be, he still retains that knowledge of what its like to be at the top.

Crowley's usual near all-black costume is a form of power dressing in itself. Whether is was in the past, when black was an expensive color to buy and maintain in clothing, or in the present day, we are still respectful of those in a stylish cut of black.

Gabriel's impeccable tailoring as Supreme Archangel also commands respect. So it's no wonder that one of Gabriel's first requests on regaining his memories was to ask for new clothes! He wasn't just being the vain archangel we believe him to be (although, I think there is still some of that) you also need to consider the elements of the reference characters that went into his shop assistant character: Granville, the belittled shop assistant nephew from the sitcom Open All Hours, who got stuck with all the shop duties from his uncle and felt like life was passing him by, and the silly Monty Python gumbies, that complained of hurting brains - lovable and much loved characters, but not ones you'd really want to be forever. We all want to be loved, but we want to be respected as well.

For all his fierce posturing around Gabriel, there is a brief moment in S2E3 where Crowley backs down and treats Gabriel as an equal - and that is reflected in a change of dress as well. His outside jacket off and sleeve-garters on, Crowley sports a look we haven't seen since S1 when he was home alone in his Mayfair flat. He patiently explains gravity to a curious Gabriel and then describes his "Operation Lovebirds" plan to his puzzled companion. He admits he hasn't "done weather in ages." It's just a quiet, charming moment, watching two ex-archangels get along together.

You're smiling, aren't you?

This meta continues in Part 2: Foils of War, where the differences between Gabriel and Crowley get explored in more detail, and how Aziraphale and Beelzebub act as mirrors to each other a few times as well.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel: Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

[astrumark]

── AND IT'S JUST AS GOOD AS I KNEW IT WOULD BE ★.

PAIRING: jacaerys velaryon x female reader.

SUMMARY: after a harsh argument, you ask jace for a kiss in order to forgive him, not expecting the prince to aim for your lips, or to feel so heated in such a short time.

WARNINGS: slightly angsty at the beginning, friends to lovers, curse words, pet name, smut with plot, loss of virginity, hand-job, fingering, p in v, playing with cum a little bit.

WC: 8.5K

NOTES: jace needs more appreciation.

The breeze feels warm but fresh on your skin, and the sun is just about to set as you stroll happily around the castle, the skirts of your dress bouncing. It has been a good day so far. With Jace's name day approaching, a few lords and their families were already arriving at the island for the festivity taking place in just a couple of days, including your parents and siblings. The lessons were fun and interesting, especially with the different takes of the other ladies that are visiting. Later, Rhaenyra had a dress fitting session, in which she insisted that you and the silver-haired sisters choose something for yourselves as well. The afternoon went by quickly once surrounded by fabrics, jewelry, and laughter. 

You were about nine years old when you became Princess Rhaenyra's ward. Being one of the youngest in a huge family, your father sent you to Dragonstone as a symbol of his loyalty to the black princess, who treats you with the utmost kindness and respect. You were quick to adapt and feel far from unsatisfied with the life you have been building for yourself in the crownlands. 

But something is missing throughout the day, creating a small void within your chest. You have not been able to see Jace, and you crave his company. The reason as to why you are descending to the beach in long strides, where you were informed the young men were still training since late morning.

The friendship between the two of you was immediate and intense as soon as you arrived, and though you grew to care for all of the family, the older prince seemed to steal most of your affection effortlessly. 

Clashing steel and loud manly voices fill your ears as you arrive at the beach. Lucerys is currently sparring with a boy around his age who you recognize to be from House Blackwood, while Jacaerys seems to be deep in conversation with a few lords. A smile creeps into your face as you rush your steps. 

"Jace!" You shout as you stop in front of him. "I miss you." You raise your hand to fix his hair as you are used to, but your hand is slapped away.

Confusion washes over your face due to his unusual behavior. There are a few snickers from the young lords around him and Jace flushes.

"My Prince is fine, or have you forgotten your manners?" His tone is cold and sharp, lacking the tenderness often reserved for you, and your eyebrows raise in surprise.

"What?" You scoff in annoyance, shooting a glance at the other boys, Were they the reason he was being so unpleasant? Was he ashamed of you? A great indignation sweeps over you at the thought. "Jace—" You purposely emphasize his name again, ready to load your irritation on him when you're cut off.

Followed by wolf whistles there was a firm hand around your upper arm, the prince's expression hardened. You could feel your stomach dropping at that, never had he looked at you that way. Rarely did you two fight, even as children, your friendship was always a sweet and courteous one. 

"Can we speak in private, my lady?" It's more of an order than an actual request as he drags you across the beach and behind one of the multiple rocks, hidden from curious eyes and ears.

He's furious, you could sense it as he let go of your arm. And it's the same sentiment as standing close to a dragon: dangerous and unpredictable. Your heart drums against your ribcage. Oh, how foolish one has to be to doubt that Jacaerys is the blood of the dragon for even a second. All you can see in front of you right now is an enraged beast. 

"You will apologize to me." He demands.

"Apologize for what?" You are incredulous, and the fact you have never seen him act this way should be enough reason to not push him, but at this moment, you are feeling just as prideful as he is.

"For disrespecting me! What else?" 

"Disrespect? I called you by your name!" 

"Jace is what my family calls me, you are not. Please, know your position." He says sternly. 

You gasp, mouth wide open as your heart sinks. "You do not mean!"

Jace sighs deeply, closing his eyes for a second to keep his control. "I cannot have you approaching me as a common bastard with little to no regard for social customs in front of men I am supposed to lead one day. If a lady like yourself does not deem it worthy to address me in the correct style, how will they? Do you genuinely do not see the issue?"

There's much you want to say, much you want to discuss and disagree, curse him even, but it's that damned word that rings the most to you, bastard. You know how delicate the topic is to Jace, how in front of everyone he pretends it doesn't bother him, but in truth, the stares and whispers and uneasiness of the future always stressed him to a fault. Usually, it was not a problem at home, but this week the island is full of visitors from all over the Seven Kingdoms, most of them not necessarily favoring greens or blacks as some houses have, at least not publicly yet. Meaning a lot more whispers, more stares, and more insults masked as plain light-hearted jests.

It's the first time you realize how so many people might be a little too much to deal with, especially for someone so eager to prove themselves at all times like Jacaerys. Nonetheless, his actions sting, and so badly. You are not deserving of his wrath and therefore would not accept it. 

"But must you be so mean to me?" 

"Mean?!" His voice gets louder, clearly losing the small amount of patience he was still holding onto. "I am simply trying to teach you the proper way to address your future ruler." 

It's enough for you, you cannot bear it, as if you are talking to a stranger and not your greatest friend. The rage and arrogance are so unlike him, that it is just odd and infuriating to see. You hate it. "I do not need you to teach me manners! And we are far beyond such customs, Jacaerys. You know it."

"You will apologize to me." He repeats himself once more, growing agitated. 

"I will not!" 

"You will or you might as well face punishment for such insolence, do you truly want to embarrass your family like that in front of all these people?"

It takes a while for his words to sink in, but when it does, your breathing is erratic, and eyes burning with unshed tears, hurt and angry. You refuse to cry, but why is it so hard?

It is ridiculous the power Jacaerys has over you and for such a long time now. How a different glance, a shrug, or a specific tone of voice could make you recoil to yourself, unknowingly ruining your mood as you wondered if perhaps you could've done something to upset him. Those moments are forgotten the moment he smiles brightly at you again or ruffles your hair teasingly, back at his usual self. But then it would happen again and you would be reminded of how much you blindly seek his approval, even if you try your hardest not to. 

Jace's face softens at your teary eyes, regret and shock swallowing him, suddenly and immediately. His mind is fuzzy. As if a bucket of iced cold water had been thrown over him, or if his eyes were seeing clearly for the first time after walking through a mist. Oh. He cursed himself countless times in just a few seconds. He despised seeing you cry, he despised even more to be the reason for it. "Forgive me, I did not mean—"

It is too late. You turn on your heels, clutching your skirts, and running away from him as fast as you could, your flat shoes burying on the soft sand. Your vision is completely blurred by the tears as you intend to make your way back to the castle. There's more laughter from the lords as you pass by them. You couldn't care less, your stomach churning.

Jace paid them no mind as well, forgetting all about the reputation he wanted to create among them. He races after you almost desperately as he shouts your name, which only makes you sprint faster through the craggy pavement. Suffocated by his frustrations, he unloaded them on the last person he would wish to, and he would be doomed if he didn't repair the damage he just made. He couldn't remember a time he felt as guilty and ashamed as right now. Absolute moron.

A couple of minutes later, you're growing tired from the run, which gives Jace the perfect opportunity to grab your upper arm again, but this time much gentler. He makes you turn around to face him, warm brown eyes pleading. You despised how pretty those eyes got when the sun reflected in them, how gorgeous he looked bathed by sunlight. "Please." He utters, his breath heavy.

You struggle your arm out of his grip, a scowl on your face, now wet from tears. "Let me be." 

"Please, please, please," He moves his body to halt in front of you. "Let me speak." 

"I do not wish to speak with you." You try to dodge him and walk again, but he swiftly blocks you, your name falling from his lips almost like a prayer. That makes you hesitantly look at him, a silent agreement for him to continue.

"I am tremendously sorry. I swear it. I was unfair, I know," He says in a rush, brows pinching together as he reaches for your hands. You didn't bother to retrieve it. "I… There's no excuse. I was harsh and a fool because I couldn't handle my stress. I am so sorry, I feel so terrible right now. Just please, forgive me." He rambles.

You shook your head repeatedly, a new pool of tears making your eyes shimmer. Jace could swear he felt as if he was being ripped apart, queasiness brutally hitting him.

"No, please don't cry." The prince brings your body forward as he hugs you almost instinctively, itching to comfort you in despair. 

You didn't hug him back, but you didn't move either, his embrace was annoyingly a solace, even if he was the reason for your sadness. He strokes the side of your neck with one hand, and your back with the other in a soothing motion. 

"No…" Is all that you can mutter in a whine before burying your face further in his chest, you shouldn't like his presence so much, you shouldn't like him so much, you shouldn't give someone so much importance and control.

"I am so sorry." He hugs you tighter, repeating the apology over and over in the shell of your ear, regret and shame filling his voice. 

"You cannot hurt me like this." You say, feeling the weight of his words and actions.

Jace slowly pulls away, surprising you to see him looking so troubled. He softly cleans your tears with his thumbs. "I know. I was cruel for no reason, and you do not deserve it. I understand your anger and disappointment. Right now I am sharing the same sentiments about myself." He shook his head. "I do not know what to do except to apologize, I didn't mean to act so entitled. It was too much. I handled my problems in the worst of ways and didn't realize until I upset you."

"You hold my heart in your hands, Jace," You admit quietly as you sniff. "You cannot be so careless with it." 

Jace held his breath, his heart beating impossibly faster at your words. You were always tender with one another, and such admissions, especially coming from you, were not rare. He could never tell if your affection was one of friendship or if it held more meaning, but it always made him warm inside. This one though, came as a dagger to his guts. With all his being, Jacaerys wished to undo all that had happened from the moment you stepped into the beach, running towards him with a beaming smile.

"I couldn't be more regretful than I am for my stupid actions," His voice is quiet and sad. "If we can sort this out between us now, I would be most grateful. Just tell me what I have to do. But if you truly desire to not speak to me, I will leave and not bother you again." He looks at you expectantly, fearful even.

You bite your lips, not quite able to give him an answer you didn't have. You were still displeased, and you would rather have the prince vanishing in thin air right now, or maybe slap his handsome face for acting so surly in an unjustified way. At the same time, you didn't want to leave it unresolved, to extend the issue for longer. You would have to talk at some point, either to forget about it or end your friendship at once. The last thought sends a wave of discomfort through your body, enough of an answer. You swallow hard.

"What are you so stressed about?" You have a good guess, you know him, but you want to hear it from his mouth directly. 

With a sigh, anyone could hear the sheer honesty and exasperation in Jace's tone. "It is my responsibility, my duty," He looks down at his boots. "As the future heir to the throne, I need to be tough and make myself heard. There are certain expectations which I have to be prepared for." With a pause, he continues. "I have been on edge since the lords started arriving, and I snapped at you unfairly. There are so many stares and passive but accusatory comments, I just… can't let them see me as weak or undeserving in any way. I need to be perfect all the time, and I am not fucking perfect, at all." He chuckles wryly. 

You exhale softly, it is not pity you feel, just comprehension with a bit of sadness. You couldn't fathom how much pressure the brunette was under, especially with the rumors and the tension between the family, his grandsire the only bridge holding it together, for now. He was right, there was no excuse regarding how he treated you, but his frustrations and fears were not meaningless. But it pains you to see him doubting himself like that. You've known Jacaerys for years, and you could not name a better person to be the future heir to the throne. Perhaps you are a little biased, but he was the representation of all good things to you, one of the reasons you believe genuine people still exist in such a malign world. He is not perfect, indeed, a flawed person like everyone else, but at least he always tries to be better, and that's more than most people you know could say.

"You will be prepared for it, Jace." Your voice is like a caress, strangely silky and firm at the same time. "I have no doubts. You are the most responsible person I know, intelligent, empathic, and fierce. You are trustworthy and honorable. You are respectful and you truly give your duty the importance it is due. You have all the attributes a good ruler should have, and you are so young. Those who do not see your value are blind and naive." 

Jace bites his lips, almost drowning in gratitude. He looks deep into your eyes, trying to see any hint of deceit, of void words from a pitiful friend who doesn't believe in themselves entirely, but he does not see it. All the prince sees is an unnerving obstinacy. 

"You mean it." He whispers, surprised. 

You nod your head vehemently. "I do." 

He could cry with such determined and honest praise after being plagued by the worst thoughts for days in a row, but he only smiles at you, shyly and fleeting, but sincere. "Thank you." 

It is quiet after that, the birds squawking and waves crashing, the air filled with salt. It's a regular sound and smell, but the most comforting nonetheless, and what you relate to home. Not the rustling of the trees, the smell of the meadow, or the sound of the running stream back at your family's castle in the Riverlands, but this. You look out to the sea, the sky now turning purple and pink. After a few minutes of contemplation, Jacaerys speaks again, his legs quaking.

"I must know, will you be able to forgive me or will my sudden stupidity strain our relationship?" Jace fidgeted as he got closer to you, eyes wide, and you could feel the anxiety radiating off him. He is distressed.

You took your time answering him. "I am still upset." Not as much, but you wouldn't let him know that just yet.

"You have every right to be." He purses his lips as he looks away hopelessly. You do not feel sympathy, but a dark satisfaction at his despair after acting that way, and you try not to smile at it. "But I will not be able to sleep if I do not know if you will be able to forgive me or not, I cannot bear the thought of sleeping while we are on these ambiguous terms and you are angry at me, I—" He breathes in. "I cannot bear losing your friendship."

Seven. His insistence and desperation were certainly growing on you and melting the ice wall you have created not long ago. In truth, your anger and hurt were dissolving by the minute. Much stronger at the beach, but almost fading now. He takes your silence as a bad sign, and his hands find your waist, clinging to you for dear life.

"Please, I will do anything, just forgive me," He pleads once more. "I need you, I always need you. Terribly. You are my greatest friend and you are not allowed to leave me." His eyes are full of sorrow and longing. 

You smirk. "Not allowed to leave? Is that an order?" 

There's a shift in his eyes, a reluctant hope. "No, it is not, but it could be." There's teasing in his tone as well. "Please…"

Again, you look away to sort your thoughts. There is no use lying to yourself, no way of holding a grudge against him. In just a matter of minutes, the burning rage has become a faint flame, no way the resentment would survive till the end of the night. Seven hells, you were in deep, so supple to his wills and charms. You could pretend, give it more time, but the truth was as clear as a summer sky, so what is the point of dwelling on it, anyway?  

"I will do anything." He mutters, squeezing your waist. 

You decide then, a sly smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Anything?" 

Relief and incredulously crosses his face, a smile mirroring your own. "Is that a yes?"

"Not quite…" Your eyes are mischievous. 

"Just tell me what I have to do to make up for you." He urges. 

It's a great opportunity to strike a good bargain with a prince, but you dismiss the thought. You were forgiving him because you believe he deserves it, that he was sincere in his apology, and because he is your most treasured friend. You could count on one hand the times he'd upset you in years when you saw each other almost every day, so there was some reliability in him. So instead, you jest, feeling quite cheeky. "Give me a kiss." 

It's purposely plain phrased, devoid of a specific intention, because you simply do not care where the kiss is going to be placed. Though you certainly do not expect much, a forehead kiss, perhaps. It's completely up to him.

Jace's brows shoot up to his hairline as he watches you with curiosity, head tilted to the side as his body tingles. "A kiss?" 

You smile again. "My price." 

He chuckles, shifting closer to you, his hands still on your waist. One of them moves, cradling your face in a feathery touch. He's aware you probably meant a friendly kiss, on your cheek or nose, a small gesture that would make you both giggle, because you are not as nervous as he is. Jace, who has a slightly different idea. Your face is relaxed in a small smile, eyes twinkling with humor. A particularly high wind makes the sight of you almost ethereal under the twilight. His pounding heart is loud in his ears, a thousand butterflies flying around his stomach. The pain he felt at the risk of losing your fondness was excruciating, threatening to whisk away his breath and all that was joyful. He truly could not bear it, ever. He loves you, and far from a platonic way, it's obvious now. In an adrenaline rush, he finally locks your lips together in a long and loving peck.

You gasp into his mouth, completely taken aback, but soon you press your lips against his as well. It's so soft and warm that a shiver runs down your spine. Lovely. When you part, your mind has not exactly caught up with what just happened yet, and your breath is labored. Jace watches you, content to not see any negative emotion, although you seem pretty startled, eyes as wide as a deer.

"I am truly sorry for being so rude and mean pup," He apologizes once again, kissing the corner of your lips this time, so delicately you barely felt it. "So sorry."

You can barely remember what he is apologizing for, the events of the beach are now a distant memory with the feel of his lips so fresh in your mind. Your eyes are drawn to his pinkish lips, excitement running through your veins as your heart palpitates almost painfully.

You struggle to find words, your head spinning as you process it all, and when you do, your voice is weak. "It is alright…"

He smiles sheepishly at you, caressing the side of your face. "How do you feel about it? The kiss?"

You hum as you bite your lips to prevent a smile, a sudden shyness taking over you. "I enjoyed it." 

"So did I." 

Your gaze flickers down once again. You want more, you crave more, so profoundly and insistently, as if you needed to feed off him to survive. Felt too good. "Can this be an occurrence?" You wonder, voice faltering, but that didn't stop your fingers from caressing his plump lips.

Heat rises to Jace's face and neck, he barely contains the grin plastered on his face. "I wouldn't mind. Would you like it to be an occurrence?" 

You nod your head eagerly, hands now around his neck. "I am afraid your lips are the best thing I have ever tasted." 

Jace laughs to mask his embarrassment. "Ever the charmer. Maybe you should stop listening to the bards as much."  

"Shush it, will you? This was my first kiss, actually," You confess. "Now I understand why people enjoy it so fervently." 

He smiles fondly and scratches his head nervously before he speaks again, arms wrapped around your waist once more. "It was my first as well." 

You blink twice, amazed by that piece of information. "Truthfully?"

"Yes," He chuckles. "Why would I lie about that?" 

"It's surprising, that's all," You tilt your head. "Most young men like you are often engaged in depravity."

He rolls his eyes. "I am no prude, that I can assure." 

"Doesn't sound like it." You tease. 

"I was just waiting for a certain someone to indulge in these sinful desires." 

You gasp excessively at his crudeness before giggling. You know he is joking, partially, the curves of his mouth lifted and the joyful look in his eyes indicates it. "Do it again." 

He does, softly and slowly. You relish it, eyes fluttering shut as your blood runs hot.

"I might get addicted to this." You murmur, forehead resting on his.

"So will I." He says quickly before capturing your lips again.

This time your lips move together, growing more wet and provocative, and the second your tongues finally touch, the kiss deepening, your whole body jolts forward. A growing flame sets roots on your lower stomach. It's messy, a clash of teeth and instinctive tongues, but it's new and thrilling, and absurdly wonderful.

Jace holds you as if you are the most precious thing to exist and he is afraid you will vanish, or that he will wake up in his bed at any moment. His heart almost jumping off his chest reminds him this could not be a dream, though it certainly feels like one. It does not take long until you both establish a pace, and he swears this is the closest thing akin to flying. He feels remarkably light and excited, and he wouldn't be surprised if he was glowing inside out, the warmth spreading from head to toe inside him almost overwhelming. 

Everything disappears, the people, the animals, the waves, and the wind on your ears, making your dress float. It's just the two of you and your lips eagerly moving together in such harmony you could fool one as being experienced lovers. You grab the hair at the nape of his neck, and Jace shudders. His body always seems to be warmer than your cold hands, and he loves the feel of this difference. 

You are out of breath, struggling to keep pace, but you do not wish to stop, too greedy now that you finally got a taste of him. You could kiss him forever, you realize. However, you must. You are still in the open for anyone to see. Jace seems to have the same trail of thought as you as he parts, panting. You laugh out of pure happiness, lips swollen and eyes hooded. 

"Certainly a new vice." 

Jacaerys grins at you. "We should have done this sooner."

You can only agree. "Now we can make up for the lost time."

"And not get in trouble while we are at it." He steps back against his desire and looks around. Jace could only describe the lack of your body pressed to his as sickening. Still, when his eyes find yours again, he smirks.

"We will be careful." You rest your hands behind your back. "Do you wish to go to my chambers?"

Jace's throat bobs. He'd been at your chambers countless times, but he could not help but let his mind wander to dangerous scenarios after your shared kisses. He knew it was far from reasonable, but you probably meant no mischief, and he knows how to control himself and his urges, so he nods.

You two get to your destination with no trouble, both knowing the castle and its hidden passage and shortcuts like the palm of your hands. Once as children when your favorite play was to imagine yourselves exploring new lands, then a little bit older to sneak food and overhear the adult's conversations, and later when, more mature, it was considered inappropriate for the two of you to spend time alone. Inside your quarters, Jace's nerves calm down, your familiar scent lingering in the air is a source of comfort to him.

It is quite dark, with the sky now merging into a navy blue. No servants have passed into your room to light the candles yet, so you grab one candlestick, lighting it with one of the torches that were already lit in the hall. Then, you lock the door and light some others, your chambers gradually becoming visible. 

Jace's already sitting on your bed, and you plop beside him with a wicked smile. No words are necessary as your lips find themselves locked again, hungrily and demanding, or when your hands trail each other's bodies through the soft clothing. 

None of you could tell how much time has passed, too lost in the tangle of your passion. You are vaguely aware half of your body is on top of him, one of his arms circling your waist. Each kiss tastes better than the other as you both slowly grasp the craft behind kissing, growing more confident with it by the second.

But it's getting desperate and frustrating, the kisses not being quite enough to satiate your need. There is a known fire inside you, one that comes at night when you are alone, but so much stronger now, so stronger it makes thinking hard. It is primal and urging, devastating even. You want to whine, to get rid of that knot, but you cannot. It is so improper, more so than kissing a man in your private quarters, and you do not wish to scare Jace by being so forward. Seven, you were certainly scaring yourself with such heat. You don't even know what exactly you want, you just know you want badly enough to give anything that is asked of you to get it.

You shift your leg in a useless attempt to get rid of the uncomfortable dampness between your legs, but you accidentally brush your knee against Jace's crotch, and it is hard. The prince tenses beneath you, separating your lips in surprise. You pray that he cannot see how bashful you are, and you decide to occupy yourself instead, hiding your face.

Trailing little kisses along Jace's cheek, jaw, and neck. Jacaerys has to bite back a moan as you do so, his chest rising and falling way too rapidly. This feels like the seven heavens and hells at the same time. He smells mostly of sweat from the training, only a hint of his spearmint soap, but underneath it all there was just his scent, one you would custom a scented candle of if possible. You stick your tongue out, dragging it across the skin of his neck in wet kisses. Salty, delicious.

"Do you feel the same as me right now?" You ask curiously, voice muffled. "Such yearn."

Jace chuckles, his mouth drying out at the implication. His hand caresses your hair before kissing your cheek. "I feel exactly what you feel." He whispers, his voice hoarse, it does not soothe your discomfort, but the opposite. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. "It 's tempting."

"Very." He agrees. However, he is not certain either of you should act on it, thinking it would be better to get up and go to his quarters before it becomes too unbearable. The consequences of being caught would be dire. "We cannot."

"We should not, but we can."

"Alright, smart-mouthed." He rubs his fingers on your cheek lovingly as you look at him through your lashes. "Do you believe it would be worth it? Won't you regret it?" 

"Hardly." 

He gulps. He wants you so much, the aching in his pants proves it. But he cannot help the dread that creeps into him as well, furiously battling with his desire, and the prince has no clue who would win. He was not worried about himself, but rather with you. He was aware if you got caught and word spread around, it could ruin your life as a high-born lady. That was a terrifying risk, to imagine you suffering outlash and having your reputation strained forever. Jace didn't even let his mind wander to the paralyzing possibility of impregnating you, for various reasons. He's thinking so hard to make the decision that it almost hurts.

You notice the hesitancy, so you peck his lips calmly. "My handsome Jace, do not fret. We do not have to go any further." 

"But I want to," He confesses. "More than anything." 

You can hear your blood in your ears. "However…?" 

"I'm nervous, about getting caught and you facing the harsher consequences, of disappointing you and making you miserable," He rambles. "Of you regretting it and hating me for eternity. I meant it, when I said I could not bear losing you. You are as important to me as the air that I breathe." 

You smile fondly at him, your fingers tracing his eyebrow. "Do not choose for me. Just for you. I've made my decision. And I am unable to hate you. I'm certain I was made to love you," You chuckle. "Rest assured of that." 

Jace blushes so hard it's impossible to hide it, and your amused smile only makes his cheeks grow hotter. He kisses you slowly and appreciatively. He feels at ease. The fear diminishes as he keeps savoring your mouth, the desire winning his inner battle. All Jacaerys could think about was being with you, inside you. He groans and turns your body completely in one motion, which makes you yelp in surprise. His body now hovers over yours, fitting so nicely in the middle of your legs. Your hands trail his arms to his neck as your kisses get messier. 

"Tell me you really want this," He kisses your neck, making you shiver. "If you don't, I will stop."

"If you stop—" You pause to catch your breath, eyes shut as he keeps his mouth on your neck. "If you stop I will stab you." 

He laughs, a sound so deep and boyish you can feel yourself clenching around nothing.

"Come here." He sits on his knees, helping you to get seated as well, your back to him. 

Jace undoes the buttons of your dress clumsily and painfully slowly, and you suspect his hands are shaking. You easily get rid of it after he finally unclasps the last one, the material falling to the ground and leaving you in your thin shift. You do not know what came to you as you take it off completely, becoming fully naked in front of him. 

There is no hint of shyness in him anymore, his jaw is clenched, making it even more prominent than normal, and he looks close to consuming you raw. You enjoy it.

"Fuck," He rasps, eyes unmoving from your form. "You are stunning."

You giggle a little before getting on the bed again, both of you standing on your knees. Jace wastes no time grabbing you, the feel of your bare skin intoxicating. His warm hands move along your waist to your lower back and then to the swell of your breasts. He pecks you. "Can I?" 

You nod, your fine hairs stirred up due to his touches. He grips your breasts softly, as if afraid to hurt you. He massages them making you exhale loudly, and he smirks a little. He then pinches one of your nipples, circling it curiously. "Is this uncomfortable?" 

"Not at all." He hums in acknowledgment.

 "Should I continue?" 

"Mhum." 

His hold becomes firmer and you gasp. "Good?" 

"Yes." You confirm before your lips find him again fiercely. 

In the middle of heated kisses, you help Jace get out of his tunic, undershirt, and trouser, tossing them around your chamber. Your hands explore the defined muscles of his abdomen, training for hours on end favored his physic. You part so you can admire him, the pool of desire inside you only growing larger. He is lean but strong. When your eyes lock on his hard member, you stare at it more than you should, but he does not seem to mind. You wet your lips, amazed by it. It's pretty, you realize. You did not know it could be pretty, once you have heard a few ladies talking about how ugly it commonly was, though it still felt good. But there are no other words you would describe Jace's cock.

It just seems right with the rest of his appearance, long but not scarily so, in honesty, it looks like the perfect size, and it's thick. A large vein runs through the side, and you fight back the urge to lick it. The tip, and the base around it, are a brownish pink, and his dark pubic hair is well trimmed. You want to reach out and touch it, so you ask if you can. 

"Please," Jace says airily.

Your hand wraps around it, your thumb caressing the visible vein, your eyes sparkling as you look down at the sight. Jacaerys hums, the noise coming from the deep of his throat, hips jerking slightly into your hand pleasantly and his belly's twitch doesn't go unnoticed by your gaze filled with lust. "Pup…"

Fuck. The old nickname, once so pure, back when people claimed you trailed behind him like a lost pup, into this filthy situation it's just as rapture. You run your hand around his length, stroking him. Jace cannot contain his moans, and it's delightful, his voice raspy, pleading, broken. You could hear it as music. It's the best form of encouragement, your pace quickens and you circle the slit of his head, which makes him sound particularly whiney. You gather the clear fluid leaking out of his tip, running it through his shaft, your hand sliding easily as the room is filled with lewd noises. You cannot avert your eyes off it, the skin of his cock stretching in your palm hypnotizing you.

"Ah, I-I'm close," He sounds pitiful. "Won't last, pup. I can't." 

"Don't hold back, my love," You kiss his neck, right below his pulse, your stroking getting even faster. "I want to see you undone."

A strain and long moan come out of him right before a warm and sticky liquid hits your hand, some of it falling to your hip and upper thigh. Jace's face falls into the crook of your neck, body slack, and breathing hard. You tsk. "Messy boy."

He doesn't answer you, trying to catch his breath, a high pitch takes over his ears, and his head is spinning even with his eyes closed, unrecognizable forms and colors appearing behind his lids. He feels so intensely he is afraid he might not recover.

Jace looks up at you, face red and sweaty. "Sorry." He notices the mess.

You dismiss it, wrapping your hands around his neck, not minding cleaning yourself. "I like it." You assure. "Was I good?"

"Perfect," He whispers. "Absolute perfect." 

You kiss him, and Jace pushes you back to the mattress, laying on your back again. The feel of your naked bodies pressed together is terrific and you never want to let go of it.

"Tell me what you enjoy and what you do not," Jace says against your mouth. "And tell me to stop if it is too much, promise me?" 

You nod. "I promise."

"I will try something now." He warns and you suck in a breath in anticipation.

Although inexperienced, Jacaerys is not ignorant regarding the pleasure of the flesh. He has heard his fair share of crude stories from acquaintances, men being much less reserved than women, and making a point of being detailed. His stepfather himself has talked about it with him and his brother a couple of times, not to mention all the books in the hidden corner of the library. Jace is a perfectionist, and he did not wish to lack as a lover either, unbothered about his lady's pleasure and only seeking his own.

His middle finger grazes your sex and you gasp, not expecting it. "Is this alright?"

"Yes, just unusual." 

He gently parts your folds, running it up and down, you bite your lips, it's not unpleasant, far from it. "It feels so good and inviting." He starts circling your cunt, gathering more juice. His fingers move easily due to your wetness and you squirm, searching for more friction. Jace's eyes never leave your face, studying. 

When he circles somewhere around the higher point of your cunt, an extended moan leaves your mouth on its own accord. His eyes light up, and he does it again. "Good?"

You can barely find your voice. "Yes, good."

"This swollen little bud right here?" He keeps his pace on it, finger not faltering. 

"Y-yes, Jace." You mewl, eyes shutting.

"What's so special about it?" He asks. "What if I lower my finger?" He moves it further down. "What do you feel here?" 

You sigh, trying to contain the sounds coming from you. "It's very agreeable, but…" You don't complete the phrase, your mind goes blank with pleasure.

"Feels better here?" He goes back to the bud, pressing another finger to your womanhood as well. You can only nod in the middle of whimpers. "Can you tell why, pup?" 

"It's more sensitive." Your breath stutters.

"Aw," He coos. "It's sensitive?"

"Yes, Jace, please don't stop." You beg, nails digging into his shoulders, hips raising to meet his pace. This is so far the best thing you have ever felt in your life.

"I do not plan on it, but there's more, agreed?" 

You peck his lips. "I trust you."

He drags his finger to your hole, calmly entering you, your cunt clenching so tightly with the intrusion the brunette stops advancing, giving you time to get used to it. He almost moans at the thought of his finger replaced by his cock. "It's okay, pup, just breathe. You're tense. How does it feel?" 

You furrow your brows, it's not either pleasant or unpleasant. "It's a tiny bit uncomfortable."

 "Do I continue or stop?"

"Continue." You decide, and he keeps going until it reaches his knuckle. 

"Tell me when to move." 

You inhale and exhale, trying to loosen up as Jace advised you to, and it does not take long until you are lifting your hips again, the slight sting now completely gone and replaced by enjoyment. Jacaerys starts pumping his finger, and you moan, your whole body tingling with the new sensation. When he curls it, hitting a specific spot that makes your back arch involuntary and your hands grip the sheets, you are convinced you are floating. Jacaerys laughs amusedly as if you are the most diverting thing he'd ever seen in his life. He pulls it out, dragging it back to your bud, then pumping it inside again, and continuously so. A delicious torture that makes you whine uncontrollably. The wet sounds make Jace's cock pulsate.

"You want another one?" He asks.

You shrug, lost in your bliss. He inserts another finger, audibly groaning due to the tight fit, he does not have as much space anymore and your velvety walls wrap his fingers marvelously. He looks at you, looking for any sign of discomfort, but he finds none, your expression one of sheer delight. He pumps his fingers, your moans the most alluring thing he ever heard. You spread your legs further, giving him a better angle. 

"Faster, please." You pant, your hand covering your mouth as you try to muffle your cries. 

He obeys, his fingers unrelenting. "Which one do you prefer?" Jace questions. "Here," He presses his fingers firmly into your bud. "Or here?" He slid them inside you again.

"B-both."

"Yes? What about this?" He brings the thumb of his other hand to your bud while his two fingers keep pumping inside you, stimulating you exorbitantly. "Does it feel great?"

An answer doesn't leave your lips, there is no need to. Your gasp mixed with a tremble and somehow a scream does it for you.

"Oh, mhum, that's it," His pace increases. "My good beautiful girl."  

You try to respond to him but you are just babbling and squirming, the corner of your eyes wet from tears. You press your lips together to get quieter, but the whimpers are far beyond your control. 

"So wet," Jace muses. "You are soaking my hand, you know that?"

"Sorry." 

He kisses you. "Never apologize for it." 

Your moans get louder once again, and one of Jace's hands leaves your cunt to cover your mouth. You bite into it. "Shh, I need you to be a little quieter, pup." 

You fear you cannot, you feel weightless, nothing crossing your mind but the feel of his fingers inside you and the chase for release. The palm of his hand brushing against your bud makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, and all of sudden the building pleasure crashes down, astoundingly powerful. You feel a shiver running from head to toe as your body spasms, your face twisted in satisfaction, and your heart racing. You whine as you keep grinding on his hand. Your breathing slows down, and your eyes struggle to remain fully open.

"Are you well?" You can hear the teasing in Jace's tone as he props each of his arms on one side of your head. 

You fight off your drowsiness. "I have never been better." 

He chuckles. "Want to come to an end?" 

You rub his cheeks, shaking your head. "I want all of it. What about you?" 

"Me too." He breathes in. "Are you ready?"

You nod and you kiss once again before he lines himself up to your entrance. "If you want to cease it, do not be afraid to tell me, I won't be mad. It's important to me that you are enjoying it too, yes?" 

"I swear I will." You reassure him.

He enters you slowly, and you pinch your eyebrows as you grimace. Jace is quick to intertwine your hands together, squeezing them to offer you some comfort. Unlike his fingers, his cock does hurt, the burning almost maddening, as if he is ripping you apart. You close your eyes and sigh deeply. The prince groans in elation, being inside you is better than his mind could ever have imagined. 

"Ah, fuck," Jace mutters, coming to a halt when his cock is halfway through. Your cunt swallows him almost cruelly and sweat covers his forehead, some damp locks of his hair sticking to it. His cheek grows reddish by the second. Jace looks pained but for a very different reason than you. "You are too tight, pup, it's agonizing." 

His face falls into your neck, his hands almost crushing yours as he tries to control himself, the fluttering of your cunt around his member might as well drive him insane. His breath tickles you and you caress his hand as he trails little kisses along your collarbone. 

His quietness is certainly a sign of how hard he is trying to keep his eagerness at bay, but he does not need to speak anymore. When Jace looks up at you, his brown eyes full of intimacy and admiration, you know he would wait as much as necessary, or just halt completely if you said the word.

"Keep going." You say.

He does, and his moan in the shell of your ear, as he enters you completely, thrills you, distracting you from a particularly sharp pain that steals your breath for a second. Jace doesn't move anymore, and you kiss his shoulder. "Just wait a little bit." You whisper, closing your eyes as you adjust to it.

"Take all the time you need, beautiful." 

Despite the discomfort, you enjoy the fullness in the middle of your legs, as if not an inch of you is empty. And of being as close as humanly possible to him, the skin against skin feels glorious and promising. You squeeze his hand and Jace kisses you, consumingly and magnificent, for you don't know how long. You come back to your senses when his thumb circles your bud, making you immediately whimper and perk up. Your walls seem to loosen up a bit and you start to writhe curiously, wetting your lips as you do so.

"Should I move?" Jacaerys asks.

"Yes, please."

His first thrusts are sedulous, and your soreness hasn't gone away completely, but it becomes vague. You can barely distinguish pain and pleasure now, the sensations blending. Sincerely, you did not care. 

You feel great and impatient, the stretch of his girth is marvelous. Jace starts picking up his pace, and you mewl, nails scratching his back. It's unlike anything you have ever felt, ravenous, delightful, exhilarating. Jace grunts, your spongy warmth welcoming him in the best way possible. He fucks you harder, quite desperately. It feels so good, and so right, as if you were made precisely for each other, the fit simply impeccable.

Bodies glisten with sweat, the room filled with lewd noises, and his balls smack against your ass repeatedly. It only arouses you more. Both your moans mingle together in unison, creating a filthy melody. Jace pants, his movements getting more ruthless as he gets lost in the moment. He knows he's close, his lower stomach tightening dangerously.

"Pup, I'm going–" He doesn't finish, being interrupted by his broken whines as you tense around him. "I need to pull out."

Perhaps it's an instinct or the memories of your bothersome nights where you would grind on your pillow until you were satisfied, but when Jace pulls his milked cock out, jerking it off, you motion for him to stop. 

You grab his manhood instead, and settle it in the middle of your folds, sliding up and down on his shaft, legs spread and raised. Jace's eyes are wild and lecherous, mesmerized by you. He curses, his moans wavering at the sight of you using his cock so deliciously. 

You are far too gone, the feeling so fabulous it makes you dumb. When his head presses to your bud it's the seven heavens itself. Jace's voice thickens as he reaches his peak, his seed smearing all over your stomach in hot loads. You giggle at the mess, helping him ride out of it, your hands wrapped around his length as you continue to slide on it.

Your movements, although resolute, get sloppier as you grow needier. You gather some of Jace's spent on your belly and bring it down to your cunt as you press your fingers to your bud firmly, mixing your juices and whimpering at it. Jacaerys could've come for a second time just looking at you. He pushes his cock back into you, stirring you up even more. You are drenched, supple, and throbbing. 

It's numbing, the first few seconds of your release. You would believe you have died in these brief moments of sheer excitement, feeling as light as a feather. Your body shudders on the mattress, but your mind is somewhere else, in a state of overwhelming bliss.

Jace's body falls to your side, finding it difficult to breathe. He didn't know a better sensation and he is afraid he could no longer live without it anymore. Jace smiles widely, eyes full of wonder and contentment. 

The world slowly comes back into focus again, noticing the details that were completely forgotten by both of you not long ago. The air is thick and smells indecent. You shift, laying your head on Jace's chest, his heart is hammering, and there's a dull ache in the middle of your legs.

Jace caresses your hair, kissing the crown of your head. "How was it?"

"Fantastic," You answer. "And for you?"

He chuckles, "Mind-blowing." 

You laugh, fingers caressing his abdomen as you look up at him. "Would you like to do it again?" 

Jacaerys raises his eyebrow, a smirk appearing on his gorgeous face. "Aren't you tired, pup?" 

"You invigorate me." 

Jace chuckles before kissing you ardently, the prospect of having you again sending jolts of enthusiasm through his body.  

"Yes, I absolutely would like to do it again."

[popponn]

the ins and outs. [itoshi rin x reader]

notes: for some reason, i really have a hard time with writting rin. but in the end, he feels like a sincere person. so i think it's hard for me not to get soft on him. i want to write more of him. think of this as an attempt to imagine how he will love. headcanon-ish, character study-ish. gn!reader.

Rin loves in a very complicated way.

He loves deeply, yet there is always a trace of childishness in it. He loves silently, yet sometimes his actions speak so loudly it might be noted as ‘too much’ by some people. He loves in a way that is hard to understand by many, perhaps even by himself.

Rin’s heart is a rough, rigid thing that is very hard to slip into. But the moment you get inside it, your name and everything will be etched into it forever. And perhaps it’s because of that too, Rin is not exactly the most knowledgeable whenever it comes to feelings, emotions, and such as. There are very few things and even fewer people that he let into his life, so it becomes unsurprising to see him struggles to process something as soft and unpredictable like love.

There is a chapter in his life where Rin was filled with anger that resembles obsession. In a way, that part of him would always have remains. When that chapter came to a close and his life moves on to a chapter that is filled with a gentler kind of emotion, where a simple smile from you makes Rin wishes he is kinder—he reacts to it with a grace of a fish on a dessert.

It’s hard to miss it when he is interested in you—Rin’s insults and harsh comments lacking the bite they usually carry whenever it’s you, Rin bothering to listen to you without interrupting, Rin almost actively seeking out your company—whether by purpose or not, he is good and clear when it comes to giving the signal. His team is not exactly helping with their teasing and indiscreet attempted advices either. It’s so obvious it almost feels like seeing a middle school boy having his first crush.

But, it definitely starts really awkward. Rin genuinely tries to be kinder to you, yet the fact that he is a seasoned egoist that is very hard to approach and to socialize with still stand. For one, he gets jealous a bit too easily sometimes, all while having a hard time communicating with you. Combined with his tendency to spit out words that are both scathing and hurting, the first few steps with him is, without a doubt, really hard.

Nevertheless, once those first steps are done, it get much easier. Rin is a quick learner when he wants to be, especially when it comes to something or someone he has his focus honed into. Perhaps even faster than how you learn his, Rin will learn the rhythm to keep going with you. While it will take extra efforts to talk and get through him, the moment he gets it, it took him almost a terrifyingly short amount of time to know the dos and don’ts. Though, acting on them might take a little bit of time. Practice makes perfect after all.

And on communication, there might even be signs, which many people could easily miss, that act almost like a secret language between you and him. Rin glancing at you repeatedly during a conversation? He is getting uncomfortable. Rin staring at you silently somewhere private? He wants to be spoiled. Rin not responding whenever you get touchy with him? That’s his green light, go hug or hold him however you want, he is all yours. ‘Words’ are not exactly Rin’s expertise—and it might take him a pretty long time to learn—but, eventually, this is a man who is ready to give many, many things including his best for you.

Starting out with Rin is hard, but when he decides he is for you—he will do everything in his power to make sure it will be the best choice for both of you.

[bigtreefest]

I dare you to write a piece using a character that you want to, but have never had a chance to write for before. With the sentence "Well that was a surprise."

Saint or Sinner?

College! Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Word Count: 1,331

A/N: Amber!!! Thank you for tickling my brain with this dare! I honestly wanted to do Andy so badly, but this quote was screaming Lloyd to me and I couldn’t resist. To be completely honest, I had no intention of writing him, but my fingers tip-tapped away and I lost all control. I might’ve been possessed.

I also always plan on writing a Drabble, and then it ends up being as long as one of my fic chapters, but anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Smut (oral, m receiving), use of pet names, sociopathic tendencies, mean Lloyd, a twist?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Ever since you were old enough date, you’ve been happily independent. You grew up in a small town, surrounded by blue collar families, including most of the members of your own.

You’d always had a keen ability to fit in anywhere, which you attribute to your upbringing. Your mom worked a corporate job, while your dad spent all day in a mechanic shop.

You were well off, but not raised like it, and you’d never judge those who had less than you, even though that’s what a lot of people expected.

Once you graduated high school, you got into Harvard where you met Lloyd. Lloyd was someone who was good at keeping his distance. You noticed it at first when you invited him to join a study group you had started with some other members of your cohort.

You received a terse “No thanks, Pumpkin,” punctuated with a curt nod and a wink, before he went to hang out with his other friends and his team.

You had made multiple attempts to include him in group activities, or engage in conversation when you could nab a seat next to him in class, but after some time, you stopped seeing him altogether. You could tell he was avoiding you and the study group you had become closer with. You’d probably actually call them your friends, becoming just as close as you were to some people back home. They picked up on the same things too, seeing that you were humble, and carried yourself in such a proper manner, earning you the nickname “the Saint.”

When word of that got around to Lloyd, he rolled his eyes. You were the complete opposite of him. Kind, welcoming, calculated, while he was cold, unpredictable, sociopathic. He couldn’t stand how successful you were, too. Professors and students alike constantly praised you, more than willing to help you in any way through your academic journey and career beyond. Where he schmoozed, you gracefully existed and got just as far.

You were perfect in everyone’s eyes, including his own, which is what infuriated him. There had to be a weak spot, somewhere where your surface would crack, and he had initially tried to find it by turning you down all those times, but it was unsuccessful.

None of the manipulation tactics he had worked so hard on perfecting for so long made you budge, either. He’d pluck out a random friend from your group to join his. Nothing. He’d sabotage your flash drive for your presentation, you’d have a backup in your email, ready to go. After you’d gone, you wished him luck and no technical difficulties like you had, with a giggle! He was enraged.

After being at the top of your class, the two of you were selected to go to a conference in DC. It was hardly supervised by your professor who had booked two rooms for you next to each other, getting himself a suite a few floors above.

You knocked on Lloyd’s door in the late afternoon, the day before your presentation. He opened it just enough to peek his head through.

“What do you want?”

You sighed with your signature smile on your face. “Did you want to go over everything one more time before dinner?”

He looked you up and down, face as stern as it ever was when he was dealing with you. “Not really, Sunshine.” He slammed the door in your face.

What Lloyd didn’t know was that all his little tactics were really chipping away at you. All you wanted was to spend time with him, to get close. You couldn’t help it. You’d be lying if you said it was in your usual friendship way, too.

No, you wanted more. There was something about how aloof he was that drew you in. You were obsessed and not willing to give up until you got what you wanted, what you deserved.

His little tendencies weren’t upsetting because he was rude, they were upsetting because they were keeping you away from what your body and the deep, dark recesses of your mind were screaming for.

The door slamming in your face was the last straw. Lloyd wouldn’t get away with this any longer. You could see what he was trying to do, and if you had any say, you’d make sure it failed. You were going to be the winner of the little mind game he was playing.

To be honest, by this point, Lloyd had given up, thinking you’d never break. You were just too sweet, a true Saint. Treating you like this had just become habit, which is why he was almost confused when he heard muttering on the other side of his door.

You had taken the magnetic clip out of your hair and maneuvered it against the hotel key card reader until it unlocked. The door flew open and your eyes landed on Lloyd, stomping towards him and pinning him with his back against the nearest wall.

He looked down at you, face unreadable beside his eyes being slightly wider than usual.

“Why are you being like this!? What did I do!?” You gritted out, your tone threatening.

Lloyd didn’t say anything, only the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Tell. Me.” You slammed your hands against the wall, arms framing his head as you looked up into his eyes, your stomach pressed against his cock that was growing rock hard.

“Am I going to have to pull it out of you? Suck it out of you, myself?” Lloyd found himself at a loss for words for once. All he could do was part his lips slightly and give a small nod like he always did.

You began to unbuckle the belt of his ridiculously expensive pants, shoving them down just enough that you could see the hard-on pressing against his boxer briefs.

“Huh? Is that what you want? That what you need, Pumpkin?” You spat back at him, mocking his previous words.

His brain was finally beginning to catch up with the situation as he nodded down to you and you got on your knees.

“Yeah, do it. I know you want to. Suck me off.”

You didn’t need much more prompting, fueled by rage and control. You pulled down his underwear, his dick springing free.

You gave him no time to prepare, immediately licking from the base of his length to the tip before fully taking him into your mouth. Your mouth was stretching to accommodate his girth, but it was nothing for you in the lust of the moment. You set a vigorous pace, Lloyd’s head thrown back against the wall as he moaned loudly.

He pulled his head forward as his abs tensed, already close with the debauchery of the situation. He tangled his ringed fingers in your hair, helping to guide you along his length.

“That’s it. Keep going. Not such a Saint, are you?”

You hummed against his length in response, saliva dripping down your chin and his balls that you were lightly tugging in you hand. The other hand had its nails dug into his thigh, causing a slight sting that heightened the pleasure for Lloyd.

Before he knew it, he was coming down your throat. You pulled away as you swallowed his salty release, looking up at him and wiping off your face before standing up.

You caught his gaze again and Lloyd looked at you with bewilderment mixed with his post-orgasmic haze.

“Well that was a surprise.” He said between heavy breaths, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt again. Oh, he had no idea the tactics you had in store for him.

Your hands pressed against his abs in his knitted shirt. One stayed there as the other traced up his firm pec, past his collar and found purchase around his neck, lightly squeezing.

“So are you finally going to tell me what’s going on in the head behind that ridiculous mustache?”

Bonus A/N: Um… I don’t really know what happened. I think I blacked out.

[turvi]

Sweeter than Sweets

Image Source:- Pinterest

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Your friendship with the Marauders was unexpected but very welcoming. You were introduced to the group by Remus. Remus shared a few classes with you and got acquainted with you. One day he saw you eating lunch by yourself in the Great Hall and invited you over ignoring Sirius' glares.

Remus warned you before he introduced you to everyone "Sirius can be very cold and hostile, but he can be kind too, just try not to let the rudeness of his first words to you cut you too deeply."

It seemed like Remus was true because while everyone gave her a warm welcome Sirius gave you a cold shoulder every time you tried talking to him. You gradually got closer to the Marauder and Sirius didn't like it. But you liked Sirius a lot. You would overhear his conversations and the soft voice he would use on other girls and wish he talked to you like that. You loved his smile the most. It felt so innocent so opposite to his flirtatious nature.

Sirius was annoyed at how you were always bright, you made bad jokes but your laughs made others laugh sometimes even him but he won't admit it. He hated how everyone quickly opened up to you and even Remus Lupin who has a hard time talking to someone new just confessed to you that he is a werewolf and the rest of the Marauders were Animagus.

Now Sirius was furious and as a result, he was having an argument with Remus right now. "Have you lost it Moony? Why did you have to tell her all that? If you are in such a mood to reveal your secrets let us announce to the students in Great Hall that we are a bunch of feral animals"

Remus chuckled "Oh Padfoot you say you don't like her but you two are so similar. You know mate I won't just tell anyone. I trust her that is why I told her."

Sirius was about to berate Remus when he interrupted "give her one chance Padfoot then you can ignore her as much as you want. Why do you even hate her so much?"

"I don't hate her Moony. She just is so bright and happy all the time. She has overused her motto about how life is too short to take it seriously while absurdly winking at me."

"Just talk to her once will you?." With that Remus started to leave his room.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, Y/n is making a cake for us. Too bad you don't like her you would love her cake."

Sirius hated the smug look on his best friend and decided to talk to you because it looked like you were going to stick with the group.

You were sitting in front of the fireplace reading your book. Sirius started to feel nervous to talk to her. This is not his first time talking to a girl but normally he would be able to predict how the girls will react to his words, either they will hate it or love it. You are so far best described as unpredictable.

He slowly approached her. "Hey Y/n". You cautiously looked at him "hey Sirius". He felt a slight pain in his chest as he saw how you didn't give him the bright smile you give his friends. He pointed towards the empty space beside her "can I sit here?" You patted the empty seat but were still cautious.

Remus told her how Sirius can be loving once you will get to know him but before that, he can be very cold and rude. You were cautious not to upset him more. Of course, Sirius never blatantly told you but she could see he didn't like her as much as his friends did.

"So you like baking?" Sirius started awkwardly. You stared at him blankly then remembered that two days ago you made a chocolate cake for the three boys. "Uh I do, I don't know if I am great at it but Remus ends up finishing the deserts I make, he has quite a sweet tooth."

Sirius chuckled at her words "he does, chocolate is his favorite flavor." You turned to him immediately "tell me about it, that boy finished up three chocolate mug cakes while James and Peter were busy talking to me. I had to make more for the poor lads."

Sirius started laughing as he imagined Remus eating mug cakes in one corner. "What is a mug cake?" You gasped at that "come with me I have to make you a mug cake right now." You grabbed his wrist softly and tugged him towards the kitchen. For some reason, Sirius found your smile very soft today. The whole night as you made mug cakes for him, Sirius opened up to her more and found Remus was right about her. "She is as sweet as her desserts". He enjoyed the dessert you gave him but after spending time with you he wanted to consume a different dessert. You.

It was a warm day outside and the marauders took the opportunity to take a dip in black lake. Sirius decided to stay out of the water as he couldn't keep his mind off of you who he opened up to last night.

It felt like a fever dream to him, how he started to enjoy your bad jokes and how he shivered under your accidental touches. The smell of your citrus perfume lingered in his senses. He was confused as to why he felt like this. He never felt his opinion about someone change so quickly. All he could think about was if your kisses will taste sweet or not.

"Hey guys" your voice interrupted his thoughts about you. He groaned not because of frustration but because he realized that now he is falling for you. Sirius finally comes up with what he thinks is a brilliant idea.

"Hey, you know what Prongs I think I will join you guys in the water. You are joining us Y/n?"

Everyone looks at Sirius as he gently asks. You shyly decline and he nods and jumps into the water. You notice how beautiful he looks, you have always noticed that but he also seemed more intimidating than others. You noticed that he immediately got out of the water, his white shirt stuck to his body revealing the black ink that decorated his body. He had.... tattoos? You immediately looked away when you realized that you were staring at him.

You didn't know Sirius had tattoos. And you didn't know you had a thing for tattoos. Sirius noticed you looking away, your face flushed. He smirked and quickly ran towards you. "Doll could you pass me the towel?" You wordlessly nodded and handed him the towel without looking at him. Sirius enjoyed how easily you got flustered by him.

"Do you mind if I open my shirt?" Your mind started short-circuiting when he asked that. It's ok he is just opening his shirt. No big deal and oh dear you feel like you might faint when you glanced at him and he winked at you as he opened his shirt. He sits beside you still keeping a respectable distance from you.

"Is the grass more interesting than me love?" You should have brought your book with you so didn't have to stare at the grass while a very shirtless Sirius Black sat beside you.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" concern was very evident in his voice. He made it hard not to fall for him. "No Sirius it is alright I don't want to make you uncomfortable"

Sirius chuckled "it is ok I don't mind, I only take off my shirt for girls who share their dessert with me." You chuckled at that.

He continued "I am sorry for being so harsh with you, I have trust issues."

"I understand, then why did you give me a chance?"

"Well it looks like you are here with us to say and those three idiots kept saying how sweet you are I had to see for myself."

"And what is your judgment? Am I sweet?"

"Darling you are sweeter than your sweets" Sirius scooted closer to you when he saw you smile.

"There is a question plaguing my mind."

"What?"

"if you taste sweet too." he got closer to you "Can I have a taste?"

"Yes." He kissed you like he had no other purpose. He held you so gently but his kiss was fiery. When you separated to regain your breath you asked him "so? what do you think?"

"They can have your sweets I am having you."

A/N: This is long. THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID. sorry. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS if you like this.

[jaetyun]

Most likely to with some trainees please?

Boys planet MLT’s; a thread!

featuring: gyuvin matthew s.hanbin keita junhyeon zhang hao seunghwan honghai gunwook jay

fluff!

a/n: i use mlt kind of loosely, making every question less of a rant of most - least but more one option - another option

being pampered vs pampering

being pampered

honghai, gyuvin

i mean it’s kinda obvious

honghai is a total baby

he just wants to be little spoon after a long day of work and can u blame him :(

gyuvin LIVES off praise, he needs to hear from you hes doing it right even if it’s just simple things like cooking or doing chores

both of them spend nights giggling kicking their feet twirling their hair biting their finger over sweet texts you send

just clingy

so incredibly clingy

the more i write the more i realize gyuvin is so bf coded ☹️☹️

gunwook, matthew

now you might be wondering

how is gunwook not with the former??

to that i say he’s totally pamper you to as a congrats

you aced an exam? he’s out buying you ice cream and best BELIEVE he’s gonna be feeding you

if you can’t sleep he’ll tuck you in and sing you a lullaby <33

matthew has no preference

you just happen to end up spoiling him more often

you just can’t resist his aegyo ☹️❤️

he uses this to his advantage

“babbbbyyyyy can you pleassseee make ramen for me” while batting his eyelashes

jay, junhyeon

it’s very unpredictable w them

theres no set dynamic w either of them

you want him to buy something for you? sure!

he’s feeling little spoon in the moment? you’re big spoon 🫵

neither of them care very much

if i had to pick one way or the other jay is more likely to spoil you and junhyeon is more likely to be spoiled

potentially unpopular opinion..

junhyeon seems like he’d be very calm and chill in a relationship

he uses all his energy and humor with his friends youre his little safe area to recharge his social battery

jay is just always a very down to earth guy

he doesn’t really care either way 90% of the time

keita, zhang hao

they just have very motherlike tendencies

they’ll naturally buy things for you cause “you’ll run out soon anyways”

keita writes songs for you all the time

if morning texts were a love language that’s what zhang hao has

he hasn’t missed a single day of saying good morning and good night to you even if there was no other conversation that day

keita likes paying

i cant explain it but anytime you’re out you might as well not bring your wallet cause he’s gonna fist fight you before you’ll ever buy anything around him

the ONLY time you’ve paid was on your first date where you split the bill

seunghwan, hanbin

seunghwan moreso than hanbin

his face would curl in disgust at your attempt of big spooning

“what do you think you’re doing?? come over here” he wraps arms around your waist, leaving you as mush in his hold

hanbin is also very motherly

would literally make a lunchbox for you everyday if he could

both of them are just so good at indulging and pampering like i’m at a loss for words

i cant even explain on paper it just makes sense okay

i’m right my word is final!!!

pampering

easily jealous vs secure

easily jealous

gyuvin, gunwook

not necessarily possessive??

but they’re the type to death glare ANY guy that comes your way

gyuvin is probably a lot more pouty and gunwook

like gyuvin would be so clingy if he felt threatened in your relationship

hes just a lil insecure and needs reassurance but it’s okay cause we love him for it 💔

gunwook says he likes pda cause he likes physical touch

hes lying

it’s so he can basically let everyone around the two of you know you’re off limits

he feels like you’re too good to be true

he needs to fight for you yk

if you tell either of them to knock it off they def will though

junhyeon, keita

they’re more willing to let things go

like if it’s just someone checking you out they’re chilling

it’s when flirting starts that drives them mad

i think keita would be more vocal about it

he’d do something immediately

“you’re just so stunning-“ “arent i lucky?”

junhyeon would watch on the sidelines then scold you afterwards

once you give a friendly reminder they’re perfect for you theyre back to chilling

not nearly as much guard dog energy as the other two

but don’t mistake that as chill

keita has def said some things in the moment he wish he could take back

honghai, hanbin

the pouty boys

it takes a while for them to crack, it wjen it happens they’ll be SO WHINY

hanbin is so petty

“how does this look on me?” “why don’t you ask ___?”

hai isn’t passive aggressive he just gives you the silent treatment

most of the time some rando isn’t gonna hurt their pride

it’s your friends thatre a lil too close to you…

which results in full blown fights

it gets resolved though cause communication is sexy 🙏

zhang hao, jay

it’s not that they don’t get jealous

they just handle it pretty well

instead of being like gunwook who’s practically holding you or like keita who makes sly remarks theyll be silent in the moment

afterwards they rationalize it in their head and their fine

it’s not that there’s no communication

they just realize you’re loyal and they don’t have to worry 💯💯

i think hao is more likely to say something

not a whiny or petty comment but just a genuine “do you realize ___’s intentions with you?”

very down to earth men

they don’t wanna fight they just wanna head empty love partner

and we love that tbh

seunghwan, matthew

SO SELF ASSURED

like they would argue with their friends over their lack of jealousy

“why would i be worried about ___? they’re not the one kissing y/n are they?”

they genuinely cannot fathom a possibility where you cheat

which is reasonable cause let’s be real youd FUMBLEEE if you lost one of those two 😵‍💫

seunghwan might have doubts here and there but overall he can realize how important he is to you and that solves most issues

secure

going out vs staying in for dates

going out

junhyeon, seunghwan

it’s like an adventure to them

so many more possibilities on things to do

junhyeons fave dates are when you go out late at night and see what’s open

will you end up spending 4 hours at a theatre hopping around random movies at random times? will you find a cool dinner spot? will you scavenge through an abandoned building? it’s always an adventure!

seunghwan likes going to romantic places

takes you on picnics, going to a carnival, renting a karoke bar, bowling

he would totally have a bucket list of cliches he’d want to fulfill

he also just likes showing you off to the world <33

the best part is when you guys go home together both exhausted and rambling about everything you experienced throughout the day

taking showers after spending a hot day in the sun in the summer 😵‍💫 or a warm bath if it’s a cold winter day ❤️

*WALL*

jay, gyuvin

definitely prefer staying at home

does not mind going out though!

gyuvin has made it his personal duty to find the best cafe in town with you

you both have your own ranking you bicker over all the time

secretly his long term goal is learning your perfect pastry and trying to recreate it

he’s not telling you though itd ruin the sincerity of the coffee shop nights

jay wouldn’t mind every once in a while

it would get draining after like the second time a week though

has a soft spot for places like an aquarium or an arcade

places that might come off as childish

those jay could go to all day everyday

still doesn’t beat a nice cuddle session while watching a movie by a LONG SHOT for either of them

hanbin, keita

homebodys at heart

would do it for you though

especially if they have super outgoing s/o’s

very easy to convince

will react in very opposite ways though

if hanbin ends up agreeing on a date night out hes making 100000 steps and plans

he knows exactly where you’re going and when you’re going down to the minutes

he wants it to be perfect for you!

keita though

he lets you pick

“you wanted to go out! so where should we go??”

very easygoing though

down for literally anything you’d wanna do

except like rock climbing sky diving or axe throwing

that’s a hard no

matthew, gunwook

i honestly have nothing to say here

it just makes sense okay

im tired

bare with me

zhang hao. honghai

okay homebody by ph-1

their ideal date is making a lil dinner for you then playing a board game or video games

simple men

they just like being with their safe person in their safe space

zhang hao will show you all his fave tv shows and want your reactions

hai will spent HOURS just scrolling on tiktok with you next to him

it’s like a game to see how synchronized your fyps are

if either of them have a pet they’d love playing with their pets w you

if you have a pet theyd have play dates

doesn’t matter the species

you guys will make it work

like who says it wouldn’t be iconic to have a dog and bird friendship??

staying at home

[immortalmsmoon]

Holaaaa^^

Can i request Ren x Reader x Akira where the Phantom thieves suddenly got into some unpredictable accident in mementos thus creating Akira and now they have to live with two leader with the same face but different personality: Ren being the soft and patient lover while Akira is flirty and mischievous~

I'm dying for the AkiRen battle lmao XD

Two Boyfriends Is Better Than One!

A/N: THIS REQ IS SO CUTE AGHAHAGAGAHHG!! thank you so much!!

What's Better than one Akira? Two!

Warnings: None!

Wordcount: 584

the last thing everyone expected when they went into mementos was to come out with two Akira's.

it was strange, really. that there were two of them. especially because they were so different.

akira was a little jealous honestly. he wanted to have your undying attention, and technically he still had it, but he still that in the cat van pouting.

the other version of him, Ren, was an ABSOULUTE sweety.

blushing and giggling and smiling at you like an idiot!! he's kind of shy as well :)

Akira is pouting bit, but still keeping up with a little flirtatious banter here and there.

Ren and Akira go together very well, and they complement each other as well.

Ren's sweetness is so endearing, and Akira's flirtatiousness keeps you on your toes

It was an awkward drive around Memento's to say the least.

you weren't even sure how this happened to be honest. Everything was going smoothly, and then all of a sudden...things got a little rocky, to say the least. Well, rocky for your boyfriend. After all, he had competition.

you sat in the very back of the Morgana Car, pressed in between your boyfriend, and his exact copy, who you had all taken to calling Ren. he was an exact copy of Akira, with his messy soft bedhead, and the same soft face. the only difference was that Ren was a blushing sweetheart.

Honestly, you considered yourself rather lucky. Its not every day that someone gets lucky enough to have to boyfriends. You decided to take advantage of the situation, and quickly started up conversation with Ren, occasionally throwing flirtatious comments in and admiring the way Ren's face would light up a bright shade of red, and giggling at the way he would tuck strands of hair behind his ear's when you complimented him only to quickly shake it back when he could feel his ears getting hot.

as you continued to converse with Ren you noticed the way Akira had stiffened up. you threw a glance his way, noticing the way his jaw had clenched, and the stiffness of his arms crossed over his chest. you felt slightly bad that you had neglected him all this time, but honestly you were enjoying his reactions just as much as Ren's. You giggled as an idea lit up in your head, and you quickly turned over to Ren once again.

you giggled a little more as you placed your hand on Ren's chest. It felt the same as Akira's, toned with muscle, but still soft. he smelt the same as well, like rich coffee, and a tad bit of chocolate. You felt Akira stiffen next to you, and took notice to the way his finger's twitched slightly.

you decided to push your luck even more, spreading your palm on his chest, and pressing yourself closer to Ren, who was blushing so intensely you were sure he was bound to pass out. You moved your head up, pressing a swift wet kiss to Ren's cheek, before backing up a bit and looking at his face. he had frozen in shock, his face somehow a deeper shade of red than before. you giggled again, before feeling a sturdy pair of hands on your waist.

you were pulled into Akira's chest, his hands quickly wrapping around your body, squeezing you slightly. he pushed your head into his neck, before pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. you smiled into him, wrapping your arms around him as well.

[lokisprettygirl]

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 12 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Summary: Samantha's threat and Daemon's growing popularity brings you trouble.

Warning: 18+, Smut, Angst, violent thoughts, stalking, Discussion of mensuration and Pregnancy, bloodshed, flashbacks of abusive relationship, toxic masculinity, sexual abuse, Samantha, traumatic distressing content, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

"Hey" you cupped his cheeks, being careful to avoid the bruises on his face, you hated how he seemed after a fight, so bruised and broken, all you wanted to do was take him to your bed and treat him tenderly. The conversation you had with Viserys just now had made you feel conflicted, you wanted to tell Daemon but you didn't know how he'd react, you didn't want to add to his traumas as he already had more than enough of his share. Realizing that something had happened to him when he wasn't even in his senses would crush him.

You pecked on his lips softly so he pulled away and looked at you curiously,

"I'm not fragile darling, kiss me like you mean it" he mumbled against your mouth so you clutched your fingers around his messy braided hair and kissed him as passionately as you could before you had to pull away to catch your breaths.

"I don't see you as fragile Daemon, you have the most persevering soul i have ever known of but is it wrong of me to want to treat you with care?" you whispered softly so he smiled, the kind of smile that made your heart warm and giddy.

"You flatter me darling, I love that" he pulled you even closer if it was possible and rubbed his nose against yours "I do enjoy your care and your delicate touches against my skin, I really do" he whispered before he kissed you again.

Before things could get heated you made him take a shower because he had to show up for an event and you wanted to wait until you were both in his room. He wasn't the only one with pent up sexual frustration but you didn't want a quickie like last time, you really wanted to love him and please him the way he deserved.

The talk with Viserys was looming over your head, Daemon had to compete in the finale after five days but Samantha had something against him that could ruin it for him, his reputation could take a hit and he'd definitely be prodded over the accusation meticulously which in turn would affect his concentration..

While Daemon was busy with the meet and greet, Viserys caught up with you again.

"Can I ask you a question?' You asked him so he nodded "Why does it matter now? I mean it happened years ago..it's not that big of a deal right?" You asked him so he sighed.

"She's just trying to stir up the controversy, get people to doubt his abilities..I don't think he's ready for that. It took him so long to even return to the sport, god knows how he'd react to this" He answered you in plain and simple words, Daemon was unpredictable in his actions especially when it concerned Samantha.

"So what do we do?" You asked him and he shook his head in defeat, he had no answer, they could take the matter to the court but then everything will come out in the open, every ugly truth from Daemon's past will be investigated and that was the last thing his little brother would want for himself. He knew him far too well to understand that Daemon wouldn't want his past out in the open like that.

"Well ..You know what she wants"

You turned your head to look at him as he said that, frankly a bit appalled by the suggestion.

"You're joking right I'm not letting her hurt him again or be near him anywhere..we should just go to the court, file a case against her" you said to him, your voice came out all agitated and irked. Viserys didn't blame you for that either, he knew what he was suggesting would hurt you.

"He wouldn't want that" Viserys said to you, making you shake your head in disbelief.

"Why not?"

Why won't Daemon want justice? You didn't understand that.

Daemon was at the booth signing cards and meeting his fans but he could see you and Viserys talking from a distance, he couldn't help but wonder what you two were discussing, his curiosity was piqued to say the least. Viserys liked you as a person, he had made it clear, he never really liked Samantha even when Daemon was smitten with her, maybe it was Viserys's own experiences with Allison that he had warned him that she wasn't the woman for him but at the time he was too obsessed with her to pay any heed to Viserys's concern. He wished now that he had listened.

Once the event ended, he took you out for dinner but he could tell you weren't entirely there with him, you seemed lost in your head.

'Something wrong?' He asked you as he chomped on his salad so you smiled,

"Nooo..why?"

"Just..you seem lost" he shrugged as if he wasn't affected by your behavior.

"I'm not lost..just thinking about you"

Well, That wasn't a complete lie.

"Thinking about me? I'm right here darling"

"I know"

He smiled as you said that.

"Do you remember the night we met?" He asked you so you hummed in response, for a moment you didn't respond, your mind went back to reminisce about the night.

"I'll never forget..my knight in black hood..what about it?"

"Nothing..just..glad i was there is all"

A smile graced your features at his words,

"So am I"

You couldn't have gotten any luckier that night.

As you both returned to the privacy of your room he kissed you and you took his jacket off before he picked you up and laid down on the bed with you right on top of him,

"I like you alot" he smiled as his fingers tucked your hair behind your ears,

"I thought you loved me" you made a pout and he pressed his thumb on your puckered lips.

"I do..but I loved Samantha as well and I didn't like her at all..you however..I like you..alot, more than anything"

As soon as you realized what he meant you leaned down and kissed him, never in your life a man had made you feel this way. Never in your life have you been made to feel so loved and important.

"I like you alot too mister"

"I know you do"

You unbuttoned his shirt and his breath hitched in his chest, the position wasn't something he felt comfortable with, he had never allowed a woman to control the situation in that way after everything he had been through.

"You okay?" You asked him softly so with bated breaths he looked into your eyes, your fingers were still undoing the buttons all the way down before you unbuckled his belt.

"I am just ..not comfortable with this darling" as soon as he said that you quickly made him sit up by grabbing onto his arms.

"It's okay..you can always tell me you know that right?" Your fingers curled around his neck as you kissed him. He nodded in response before he slowly flipped you underneath him.

"It's not that i don't want to ..I just..need time love" the pad of his thumb caressed your cheekbones as he whispered.

"All the time in the world baby"

He kissed you again as you finished your words.

All the time in the world? Daemon wanted that. He really wanted that. Even though he knew forever was a myth.

"Make love to me now handsome" you rubbed his lips with your fingertips and you could see his cheeks reddening, something you said made Daemon Targaryen blush. You never thought you'd see that day.

"Mmm are you going to take it like a good girl?" He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefingers, the gesture made you bite on your lips involuntarily. Every time he dominated you in bed you felt like a submissive girl willing to do anything for her daddy. He just had that sort of effect on you.

"Yess sir" he shook his head as you said that.

"Call me daemon sweet thing"

He wasn't rough with you, not that he didn't want to but you asked him to make love to you and he wanted to love you the way you deserved to be loved. He felt your hands all over him but his mind felt numb with pleasure whenever you caressed his scalp, just the way you touched him so tenderly never failed to warm his heart.

He was so in love with you, a feeling he had sworn to never feel again, he just wished he was able to express it better than this, he wished he was able to live up to the love you had for him in your heart.

That night you slept peacefully but the next morning you woke up to a spicy headline in the entertainment section "Breaking News: Professional UFC Fighter Daemon Targaryen and his Scandal-Filled Shocking Past"

Daemon was everywhere because of his stint in the international league, normally it wouldn't have made such a stir in the media but he was special, your special boy. He had made a miraculous return to the brutal sport after years and nobody was expecting him to even clear the qualifier round, let alone have him in the finals. The sudden increase in his popularity of course came with its unwanted side effects. His past would always haunt him but this time it wasn't Samantha, it was some other woman he had dated during his hoe phase, her name was Diana.

Diana claimed to have had a six-week fling with Daemon three years ago. The article included the link of a Reddit thread she had created, in which she described their intimate encounters in excruciating detail. She rambled on about how he was the most arrogant man she has ever known in her life, she also claimed that he was emotionally abusive towards her.

You knew Daemon and his mood swings were not uncommon, you could understand in a way as how she must have made that assumption that he was abusive but daemon wasn't abusive, he was toxic for sure because of everything he has been through but he didn't lie or promised anything, he was honest with you and you knew he was honest with every other woman before you.

The post had gone viral pretty quickly because she posted a selfie of them together at a club, he seemed so sexy and so intoxicated, there were few other women who came forward in Diana's support to tell everyone that Daemon Targaryen was everything that was wrong with the world.

On that particular thread when another user asked why she stayed with him for weeks if he was so offensive and rude to her, she replied 'Because he was a god in bed'

Well that was true at least.

'How are we going to tackle this?"

Daemon' asked his newly appointed publicist James, he didn't want people talking about him like this, he didn't enjoy such gossip on his name. He didn't even look at the article or read the thread, he was not at all interested, you on the other hand obsessively went through every comment on that post.

You were just watching him converse with his publicist as well as Viserys who was in the hotel room with you two.

His publicist had asked him to just put out an apology statement which he denied quickly, he didn't want to apologize for what had happened between him and those women. As other people left the room he took a cigarette out and lit it up immediately, he was stressed you could tell, every time he reached for a cigarette with such desperation you knew he was extremely stressed and in need of comfort that he'd never ask for.

"Do you remember her?" You asked him as he sat down next to you on the couch,

"I don't want to talk about it" you nodded as he said that and got up from the couch to give him some space but he grabbed your hand and looked up at you .

"Don't be upset" he gave you unintended puppy eyes so you smiled.

"I'm not upset" you cupped his cheeks and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Then sit down, don't leave"

"Okay..I just thought you needed space" you sat down next to him so he sighed.

"Not from you..never from you"

"Okay..I'm here then" you smiled as you linked your fingers with his, he put the cigarette out and leaned his head against the couch, those bruises on his face looked worse somehow today.

"I do remember her ..5 '10, brunette, she was young" he told you so you hummed in response as you thought about her, you were more than happy that he wanted to talk about her instead of acting as if he wasn't bothered at all by this nuisance.

"How young?" You questioned.

"Barely in her early twenties at the time, I didn't know that when I–" he looked at you so you smiled,

"Took her home and had sex?" You asked him softly. This wasn't making you feel jealous at all, you didn't feel it, not a smidgen of jealousy.

"Yeah..she looked older in the club"

"It's alright she wasn't a child" he nodded as you said that.

"What was she like?" You cleared your throat so he snickered before his expressions turned serious,

"She was just a girl darling…just another girl"

"Do you remember everyone you have slept with?" You questioned him again,

"Who do you think I am darling? A harlot?" he chuckled before he resumed speaking "Course I remember..those flings never ended in one night stands, they all stuck around for a while, you know i enjoy stability" he said in a nonchalant manner, his voice was devoid of any emotion.

"Did you like any of them?"

"Sexually..yeah I liked all of them" You bit on your cheeks as he said that. Still not jealous, not at all.

"Emotionally?" You asked him sheepishly so he smiled and tilted his head to the side to gauge your expressions.

"Are you jealous sweetheart?"

"Maybe .. I am" your voice came out in a whisper, you didn't want to admit it so quickly.

"I'm glad you're not pretending to feel otherwise," You narrowed your eyes as he said that, "There was one…before you ..but I wasn't obsessed with her. I didn't want to get involved in that way, but she…was different from the others...had to move to LA so we ended on okay terms unlike those other chicks"

Okay you were ready to accept that you were a complete jealous mess now.

"Does she have a name?"

"Miranda" you gulped as he answered quickly as if her name was on the tip of his tongue. To think of him feeling such affections for some other woman boiled your blood.

"Why don't you want to apologize? I mean.. It's just a statement" you asked to steer the conversation so he shook his head.

"Exactly..it's a statement.. apologizing means i did something wrong with them" you nodded as he said that "I never lied, or lured them under false pretenses. They knew what they were getting in from the first day" you agreed as he said that, you also knew what you were getting into because he told you loud and clear but you also knew that you were the first one to fall for him and break that 'no strings attached" code. Maybe those girls wanted more with him as well.

"Yeah you told me the same on our first night together"

You said to him so he thought about it for a moment, maybe he was a jerk to those women he dated casually but he wasn't going to apologize for that or give any justification for his behaviour, he didn't want anyone to see that side of him, to think of him as someone who acted out like a child because he was abused by a girl he loved. He didn't want the world to see him as a victim.

"I did"

"But things have changed between us, maybe they just wanted to change things you know ..fix you ..girls see a emotionally reclusive bad boy and suddenly develop the 'I can fix him' problem"

He chuckled as you said that. The smirk on his face made him look so goddamn annoying and so fuckable at the same time.

"Did you have that problem?" He asked, his voice dripping with smugness.

"Maybe" you got up again so he grabbed your hand and pulled you right on his lap,

"Emotionally reclusive bad boy huh?" He grabbed your chin with his fingers and kissed you passionately until you were struggling to breathe in his mouth. When he finally pulled away you took a deep breath to allow the oxygen to reach your brain.

"You know what I mean"

"Have your opinions changed since then?" He asked you curiously,

"Well you're still a bad boy sometimes"

"For the world yeah" you smiled as he said that "As much as I enjoy watching you burn green with jealousy, you need not feel so. You're my girl, my only one, what you have done for me–"

"I have done nothing -" you cut him off and then he did the same to you.

"Shhhhh you never let me finish my words you know that?"

He pressed his thumb on your lips as he spoke sternly to you, his tone was authoritative, brows were furrowed in slight frustration. You knew he was going to fuck you as soon as this conversation was done and over with.

"Sorry" you mumbled meakly, making the corner of his mouth curved into a smile.

"After that bitch I had sworn to myself that I'd never make the same mistake again but then I met you ..you changed everything for me ..I'm here today because of you" you sighed as he said that. You didn't want to take credit for everything, it didn't feel right or deserved, besides you didn't want him to be with you just because you have supposedly done something for him..

"Daemon you know I love you.. but I don't want you to love me because you feel that you havee to love me" one of his brows raised as you said that.

"That is what you got from what I said?" He asked you as he looked in your eyes intently but you didn't respond "You're such a silly girl you know that?" he cupped your cheeks with his large hands and kissed you lovingly before he spoke again,

"I know I'm not the most expressive bloke but you're not an obligation for me..I am not in love with you because you're here whenever I need you. I'm in love with you because you make me want to be here with you all the time, you make me wish i could spend every fucking second of my life with you" your arms wrapped around his neck as he finished speaking.

You had your insecurities as well, you didn't feel enough for him, even more so now that you have seen how women were reacting to him. Yeah some people were put off by his arrogance but most were turned on by his prowess in the bedroom arena. The more famous he gets the more attention he will have on him, you didn't want to lose his attention or lose him to some other temptations. You didn't think you'd be able to come out unscathed if he was the one to break your heart in that way.

This feeling combined with what you knew about Samantha was enough to make you feel stressed out of your mind.

"I am scared of losing you" you mumbled softly so his grip around your waist tightened "I control myself alot ..with you" he looked at you confused as you said that.

"What do you mean love?"

"I can get emotionally clingy and it's not good ..not for me.. especially not for you"

"You can cling to me darling..it won't bother me..I'll do anything for you" you placed your palm on his lips as he said that.

"Don't say that ..I don't need such power over you"

He smiled at your words, that was the whole reason why Samantha was able to manipulate him and then ruin him slowly. She was able to do it because he allowed her to do it.

"Alright but you need to let loose love, I'm all yours i promise..why are you so anxious hmm..I can feel it" your eyes teared up as he said that, he then hugged you as warmly as he could, as tightly as possible without suffocating you both.

"I'm just .. being silly, I'm your silly girl" he couldn't help but smile. He adored you, completely and hopelessly.

"That you are, though is it an ailment a good fucking can cure?"

"Mmmm maybe"

He quickly laid you down on the couch as you said that, his shirt was off his body in one quick motion, he wasn't a foreplay type of guy but then he kissed you tenderly, so slowly and sensually, soft fleeting kisses that made your brain turn into a mush, he didn't stop until he had you squirming and humping against him for some friction against your core.

He placed his arms on the head of the couch as he shoved his cock in your wet warm slippery cunt, his thrusts were torturous, every moment of his hips was sluggish and deliberate. He enjoyed the look of ecstasy on your face, he kept his eyes on you as he drew several orgasms out of you, one after another.

He was so in love with you and he never wanted to hurt you, he really didn't want to hurt you but he knew he was going to do so, he just thought he had more time with you, he didn't want to fuck it up so easily, so quickly..he wanted forever with you.

But the moment the truth about what you and Viserys were hiding from him was revealed to him, he knew he was going to break your heart and hurt you. He was going to do everything he had promised not to do to you. He had to leave you and he knew it was a decision he'd regret for the rest of his full life.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

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[fivelila]

What do you think Five's love languages and affection types are?

I have no idea about the love languages but I know the affect type thing is up for debate. I've seen it described as soft, tender, gentle but also rough, unforgiving and kinky. Also situation dependent.

For what I'm writing, it's a short-ish scene between Lila and Five while in the subway while they talk about more sensitive topics about their past. I wasn't sure how Five would show affection during and after this. Would he be mistimed? Would Lila take over after being teased with pepper kisses*? Would he hold her the whole time or would he eventually let go? Would his grip tighten around her wrist or waist at a particularly heavy topic? Why were they being open? They aren't normally open people, what changed?

Heh, sorry if this is a lot. I'd love to hear your thoughts on some of it to hopefully guide my brain in the right way.

Thanks! ☕️🍓

*pepper kisses are non-negotiatiable

That’s such a great question! I love that you’re exploring Five’s capacity for affection, especially in a layered and unpredictable way. Here are some thoughts that might help shape the scene:

Love languages: Five’s love languages are a bit tricky to nail down because of his upbringing and trauma, but I’d lean towards acts of service and quality time as his main ways of showing affection. He’s someone who would be protective in subtle ways, like scanning a room to keep her safe or sacrificing personal time to make sure she’s okay. Physical touch might come in when he’s deeply focused on someone he trusts—like Lila.

Affection types: You’re right; he’d likely have a mix of soft and rough approaches, depending on the situation. In moments of vulnerability, like discussing sensitive past experiences, he’d probably be a bit more cautious and guarded with his touch but not unaffectionate. He might start by holding Lila loosely and letting the mood or topic dictate if his grip tightens in reassurance, especially if they’re talking about something heavy. His affection wouldn’t feel rehearsed; it’d come in bursts or fragments, almost like he’s trying to find the right balance between being emotionally open and protecting himself.

How he shows affection in the scene: During a tense, sensitive conversation in the subway, Five would likely fluctuate between physical and verbal gestures. He might give her “pepper kisses” as a way to be affectionate without diving too deep emotionally—like a playful but meaningful way of connecting. If he’s starting to feel raw or vulnerable, he could tighten his hold or keep his hand on her waist as if she’s grounding him.

Lila could also play into this by being the one to step in and take the lead in these moments when Five’s guard slips. After he opens up even a little, she might catch onto his hesitant affection and return it with something soft or reassuring that doesn’t demand anything more from him.

Why they’re being open: This could be because of the intense, isolating environment they’re in (the subway itself), forcing them into a “now or never” kind of honesty. Or maybe being in a liminal space with no other distractions gives them a rare moment of introspection, where both realize they don’t have to pretend or put up walls.

Hope this helps inspire the scene! The pepper kisses add a nice playful layer amid all the intensity, which feels so perfectly in character for them. ☕️🍓