#put that thing back where it came from or so help me

[entitled-fangirl]

Peculiar. (P3)

Cregan Stark x seer!reader

Summary: A seemingly absurd vision of the reader's comes true. She hopes the North reacts well.

Warnings: talks of trapped marriage, pregnancy, visions, nightmares, miscommunications

Masterlist

Prequel, P1, P2

.....................................................

Cregan woke up as he normally did.

Y/n lay peacefully in their shared bed, the sight of her getting a good night's sleep rare, even more rare now that she was with child. And Cregan would do anything not to disturb it. 

He gently sat up, studying the way her nose twitched a bit when he shifted the blankets. With a careful touch, he had managed to get himself from the bed and began to dress. He couldn't dress in everything. That would take too long and risk waking her, so he threw on a tunic and breeches, trying his boots and throwing his cloak over his shoulder to put on once away from earshot.

He tiptoed to the door, opening it and inwardly cringing at the creak it made.

"Cregan?" 

He groaned and turned around. His wife laid in bed still, her eyes absolutely dazed with sleep but still set on him. He sighed softly, "Forgive me, sweet girl. I did not mean to wake you."

She ran a hand through what hair was not tangled against her pillow before moving to sit up. It was a difficult task now that she had life growing inside her, but she managed. Her hands rubbed at her eyes to pry the sleep away. "Where are you going?"

"To break fast. Sleep, and I'll have it brought to you later."

She shook her head. "I'll join you," her groggy voice echoed. 

"No, lovely. You need your sleep."

"Do you not want me to join you?" 

He couldn't take the glossy look in her eyes. "You were sleeping so well. But if you want to join me, I'll never complain."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you weren't beside me," she said as she moved to the edge of the bed.

Cregan stepped to her side immediately, his instincts kicking in to help her stand. He grabbed one of her biceps, his other hand going around her waist.

"You were muttering, you know," he quietly said. "In your sleep."

She hummed. "Sorry, my love."

He shook his head as he pulled a cloak over her shoulders. "Don't be. It's alright. I just wish to know what you were dreaming of."

It was common that her visions came in the dead of night when all in the castle laid fast asleep. 

When she opened her mouth to object, he began again. "I know you try to forget them, but this one sounded important. Please try."

One of his hands caressed at the back of her neck, intertwining his fingers into her hair and gently massaging. 

"There was fire," she whispered. There was a dull look in her eyes that clearly said whatever she saw was not pleasant. 

"Fire, aye. What else?" He asked, trying carefully to not pressure her. 

"A Northern fire will sweep over the house, and rain will sweep over the land of the… the…" She paused. "I can't remember what animal."

He was so close to getting his answer. "C'mon. Think, sweet girl. What animal? Did you see it?"

She nodded. "Antlers and…" She sighed. "I just remember the orange. Surrounded in orange."

Cregan's blood ran cold. "A black moose surrounded in orange?" He asked softly, as if he didn't want the answer.

A curt nod.

"Fuck." He kissed the top of her head. "Let us break fast. Then I fear I have work ahead of me."

…

The men of Cregan's council dared to scoff at the idea. 

"There is never rain in the Hornwood. To even suggest such a thing is ridiculous," one of the lords huffed.

Cregan's fist clenched. "Watch your tone. You speak of my wife in your talk of ridiculous suggestions."

"He's right, though." Another pointed out, "Fire and rain? House Hornwood? How are you so sure?"

"She saw it. The house sigil. It's no coincidence."

"I see lots of things in my sleep, my lord," one of them chided.

"Have you seen house sigils in your dreams before you even knew they existed?" Cregan growled. "She knows nothing of House Hornwood."

The men quieted down. "How are you so sure it will happen soon?"

Cregan shrugged. "I'm not."

"I'll send a raven to the Lord, but I doubt he listens."

…

Whispers sounded across Winterfell. A ridiculous dream of the destruction of a noble house. Such gossip.

Cregan, if he even noticed, didn't let it bother him. He was quick to control his anger. He took care of disrespect, but gossip? He didn't take so personally.

His pregnant wife on the other hand?

She became an absolute wreck.

She refused to leave their room without his company. She claimed the stares and gawks haunted her more than the visions. And Cregan saw to it.

He accompanied her to every meal, even pausing his work to take her to walk through Winterfell to ensure her and the child's health. 

One of these walks led them through the courtyard where a councilman's wife had grown quite confident. Cregan had turned for only a moment. Dropped her hand for only a moment.

"Makes sense that he just does your bidding. You're a mess otherwise."

Y/n's head shot up. "What?"

"I said," the women repeated. "You're carrying his child, so of course he'll do whatever you want. He can't handle the thought of you doing something drastic."

"That's not…" she tried to defend, but her voice trailed off. 

"Admit it, my lady. He's terrified of the drastic measures you take to keep him next to you. Going along and making stories. Makes me sick." She spit at the pregnant woman's feet and walked off.

Y/n was at a loss for words. She felt her heart wrench with guilt and pity and overall, self consciousness. 

Maybe there was truth to her words. 

Cregan returned not long after. He immediately noted that something was wrong. "Ready to go back indoors?"

"Very much."

…

That night, she woke up in a panic. Cregan's heavy arm was wrapped around her, his hand placed on the side of her swollen stomach. She wanted to get up. To walk. To do anything. But she couldn't disturb him. 

With the self consciousness settling in, she decided that she wouldn't bother him with these supposed visions anymore. 

No matter how pleasant or horrid.

She rubbed at her stomach until her eyelids grew heavy once again, and she fell back asleep.

Unaware of Cregan's open eyes.

…

The next morning, he decided to politely bring it up as they ate in their chambers.

"Sleep well, then?" He broke the silence.

She took a small bite and nodded. "Pleasant as usual," she muttered.

He tilted his head.

That's all it took.

That's all it took for take back every word. He knew her in and out, and she knew it.

"It was awful. I feel so plagued," she sniffled.

He brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Tell me," he comforted like he always did.

She shook her head. "I won't."

"Why not?"

Her eyes were haunted. "I'm tired of being the bad news."

A soft noise came from his throat at her confession. "You're not."

"I am."

"You are not," he insisted firmer this time.

"I predict death and destruction every night. Every day. I'm tired of it."

"MY LORD!" A voice interrupted from down the corridor. 

Cregan jumped up and ran to the door, knowing his wife didn't wish to see visitors. "What?"

"A letter, my lord. The Hornwoods. The fire," the servant whispered.

His eyes widened and he ripped the letter open.

A fire had started in the castle, but due to Cregan's letter from a few weeks prior, they had moved all important historical documents to a safe location. 

And true to the letter, a heavy rain poured over the castle, putting it out after a few hours. 

Truly remarkable indeed.

He looked back at his wife. "Tell me of your vision, my love." He reread the letter. "The future lies in your mind."

…

The next day, he had talked her into leaving the chambers. 

Upon entering the courtyard, everyone fell silent. No one said a word, and the awkwardness was almost unbearable. 

Until finally a man approached them. He got down on his knee. "My Lord and Lady Stark."

Y/n stepped away, but Cregan placed a heavy hand to her lower back, keeping her in her place next to him.

Slowly the people began to chatter, some approaching and speaking to the couple. Praises, and gratitude.

At every chance, Cregan mentioned his wife's attention to her detailed dreams.

How it was because of her. 

"May your child be blessed with your gifts," one of them chipped up.

Cregan's lips pulled into a huge grin, pure ecstasy radiating though him. "She's seen our child. In her dreams. A visionary lies in her womb!"

Cheers sounded throughout the courtyard and her self consciousness faded.

For once, she didn't feel ashamed.

After all, how could she when Cregan smiled so brightly?

......................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname, @cherryheairt

A/n: updating my tag list if anyone wants to hop on!

[caseuoiseau]

In my youth, I was involved with several theater groups, which is an extremely Know A Guy hobby (and, it seems, profession), and there were several circumstances that made me believe I understood the power of Knowing A Guy: The season it turned out half of our new members in our college group were art majors and our sets looked incredible. The seasonal list of clothes and props for cast & crew to see if they own and will let us borrow. The season that same group let me direct a show with a fencing scene and I legitimately Knew A Guy (the brother of one of my high school best friends) who fenced competitively and did SCA and was in all sorts of ways itching to have the opportunity to choreograph a fight scene.

But I was a child. I was a fool. I didn't know shit about the power of Knowing A Guy. Not until I went to watch my mom's tennis team one Friday night.

One of my mom's teammates (I don't remember her name, let's call her Chris) showed up around a half hour in to the match just to watch. Mom had given me a heads-up that Chris might also shiw up, and told me she hadn't been in the lineup for a while, so everyone was hoping to see her. Naturally, being the more socially awkward half of this conversation, and thrilled to have something to say, I mentioned this to Chris, who offered that she hadn't been able to play because her husband had been in the hospital. Now, me being me, I didn't pry any further than that--we barely know each other, and I'm sure she just wanted to eat some wings and cheer for her team. But you'd better believe I blocked anyone else from taking up my Mom's time when she came off the court. Because my mother will always assume that if I know something, I will blurt it out in a conversation at the least opportune time (whoch...okay, fair, but it's closer to 60/40) so if Mom hadn't told me that Chris's husband had been in the hospital, it's because she--improbably--didn't know. She made an immediate beeline to Chris, and about two minutes in to talking to my mom, Chris was near tears.

Her husband had been riding his motorcycle back home from a couple states over and made it as far as a neighboring state when pickup truck knocked him clear off his bike on the highway. He had been recuperating in a hospital 4 hours away, he'd broken an absurd amount of bones and fucked up an absurd amount of organs, and the hospital was out of market and the bills were piling up and she needed to figure out some way to get him to a hospital closer to home and she was considering taking the back rows out of the mini van, putting down a mattress, and driving VERY CAREFULLY and although his employer was being very reasonable now, who knew how long that would last.

Now, a few important things to know about my mother: she has two graduate degrees and several certifications relating to business, public administration, and/or human resources, and had been working in HR for about 20 years. And at the time of this story, she'd been captaining tennis teams at her local club for a good six years. So she:

was incredibly accustomed to talking to people who are trying to hold their shit together when their personal life is in absolute shambles,

had an extensive network of professional acquaintances,

often used that network to help fill in her teams, and

knew about 85% of the people on any given opposing team.

So that Shortcut? That Guy Who Knows Other Guys? That's my mom.

So the first person she called over was one of her teammates. A nursing professor at a nearby university and former managing nurse at the world-class hospital up the street. Then another teammate, an ER nurse at a well-known Boston hospital, overheard the conversation and joined in. Then Mom waved over the female half of the line three mixed doubles, who worked for Harvard-Pilgrim and had some ridiculous number of decades working on the business side of health insurance. And then she gently herded this group to the club bar where we ordered about eight appetizers while this impromptu team spent the next hour of their lives creating a plan forward for this woman. These are his rights as an employee, this is the paperwork you need to fill out with his office. By the way, you know that you have your own rights with your own employer, yeah? Here's what you need to fill out there to protect your own job whole you're managing this. Please wait until he's less broken to schlep him 4 hours, unmoored, on a mattress in your minivan. This is what you need to do with the insurance to get them to cover this even tho its out of state, here's how you request it, here's my number in case that doesn't work. No kidding: an hour of this, and she left at 11pm full of wings she didn't buy, a bullet-ppinted list, and the phone numbers of four people she could talk to if anything came up. I've never seen anything like it since.

So, yeah. Network professionally and personally. Find out what your professional contacts do for fun (because the State Central League might need a couple of substitute players to cover holidays) and what your hobby friends do professionally. Generally? Just let people talk about themselves. It comes in very handy.

Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 2

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Azriel’s shadows liked to spoil his mate rotten.

Not that Azriel could find anything wrong with that.

She deserved more for putting up with him. 

More than new tea from the Dawn Court and her favourite chocolate covered, wafer thin cookies from a small bakery near the Sidra…more than the occasional embroidery thread they snuck her…More than whatever animal he went to go hunt, to cover his bed in even more furs just for her. 

He nearly had enough Sable furs to have a blanket made for her for Winter Solstice…

Azriel also had half a mind to go sneak in her office later that day. 

Just as a treat for not killing either of his brothers. For being civil. 

Rhys had come over for sparring, unnannounced. 

Azriel had hoped to have some peace and quiet today, but it seemed like Rhys had other plans. 

Currently Cassian and Rhys were wrestling with less sense than they had had when they were just kids, and Azriel was cleaning his weapons, watching from the sidelines.

Azriel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of his brothers roughhousing. It was typical of them to turn a simple sparring session into some kind of ridiculous competition. He focused on sharpening his knives, trying to ignore their antics.

"You know, we could also actually train properly," he called out, his tone dry. "Instead of wrestling like a bunch of children."

Cassian looked up from his grappling with Rhys, grinning. "Oh, come on Az. Don't be such a stick in the mud. Loosen up, have a little fun for once."

Azriel's expression remained impassive. "I'm perfectly capable of having fun, Cassian. But I prefer to do so without rolling around in the dirt like a wild animal."

Rhysand chuckled, standing up and clapping Cassian on the back. "It's good to let loose every now and then, Az. You should try it sometime. It might make your brooding sessions a little less depressing."

Azriel just grunted in response, not willing to engage in a verbal sparring match with Rhys. He continued to clean his weapons, hoping that the training session would end soon so he could escape his brothers' teasing.

“When did you even come home yesterday?” Cassian asked him.

Azriel looked up from his work, his expression neutral. "Around 11," he said simply.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Rhys pointed out. “You were missed.”

He highly doubted that.

And maybe he had made that mission in Dawn just a little while longer, so that he knew that dinner would be over and when he came home, he wouldn’t need to be alone.

Azriel just shrugged. "I was busy," he said, offering no further explanation. He knew his brothers were just trying to rile him up, and he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

*Are you still pissed of at me?* Rhys asked him mentally with a sigh. *I get it. But you don’t need to avoid everybody else, just because…*

*I’m not avoiding anyone,* Azriel replied, his mental voice tight. *I’m simply choosing to spend my time how I see fit.*

“I was busy,” he repeated aloud.

Cassian rolled his eyes. "You're always busy, Az. You know, there's such thing as taking a break once in a while. Spending time with your family."

Or he could spent time with his mate. He could spent time with his mate, who let him brush her hair and even braid it …who pressed kisses to his horrible scarred hands and smiled at him. 

If it was a choice between Irena or a family dinner where he didn’t want to stay longer than an hour or two, because he was still too fucking pissed off at Rhys…the choice was easy. 

“Or is there a special somebody?” Cassian teased him.

Azriel glowered at him. "It’s none of your business." He went back to working on his weapons, his expression tense.

*You can’t keep panting after Elain for the rest of your life,* Rhys said mentally. *Look, I know I didn’t…I am sorry. But she’s happy with Lucien and…*

*Don’t worry, I’ll go to a pleasure hall and pay for it if I want to fuck somebody,* Azriel shot back viciously.

Or his own hand would suffice. More than suffice, especially if…especially if Irena had let him kiss her the evening before…sometimes he waited until she disappeared into her room, and he buried his face in the pillows that smelled like her, fisted his cock and rutted like an untried boy for seconds before he came all over himself. 

It was still better than any other sex he ever had had before.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. "It sounds like you need to get laid," he said, chuckling. "Maybe that'll help with your bad mood."

Azriel shot him a glare. "Mind your own business, Cassian. My love life is none of your concern."

Rhysand gave him a sympathetic look. *We just want you to be happy, Az. You deserve happiness.*

“Ohhh, touchy,” Cassian said with a snort.

Azriel just gritted his teeth, his temper rising. "Cassian, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I swear to the Mother, I’ll shut it for you."

Cassian just grinned at him. "Come on, Az. I’m just teasing you. Lighten up."

Azriel's grip on his weapons tightened. "I don't like your teasing, Cassian. And I certainly don't appreciate you making assumptions about my personal life.”

Mostly he just wanted his brothers to leave him the hell alone.

And then...then before he could say another thing...he felt the shaking.

And then the sound came. An eardrum shattering explosion, the very foundation of the House of Wind shaking. It was terrifying him.

Irena was down there in her office. Nesta was in there. 

He was moving before he was even thinking. 

*Merrill's office, Master!* the shadows screeched.

Azriel was already running.

Cassian hot on his heels, so was Rhys.

Azriel was faster, heaving shadows around his limbs as he rocketed down the spiral stairs of the House of Wind.

Level Two, Straight to the right. Clearly...Clearly the epicenter of the blast. Of the explosion…of whatever had happened.

He pushed as hard as he could, legs burning as he hurtled down the hallway to Merrill's office.

He wasn't the only one. "Merrill!" He could hear Gwyn's shrill voice screaming, coming to a stop in a hallway of what had once been Merrill's office but now was just...

It was a mass of wood and rubble.

He barely slowed down, scrambling into action. Gwyn was already digging through it, so where Nesta and Emerie. Cassian landed behind him, immediately moving some of the debris.

His shadows swarmed as he and the others quickly dug at the rubble. Looking, desperately looking.

He moved another piece of rubble out of the way...a piece of blue cloths. The same blue cloth that he knew covered Irena's body, the scent of poppies clinging to her...Without a thought, he grasped and then dragged, a hoarse shout that was her, that was her...

He felt as if he were choking, as if he were drowning as he dragged out her body. Bloody, bruised, broken but still...still there was a faint flicker, a faint, thready heartbeat.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he tried to pick up on her heart. There was barely a flicker. Too fast, too faint, she was barely holding on. Barely hanging by a thread.

There was blood pooling on her abdomen, dying the blue dress she wore bright scarlet red, He put pressure on that wound immediately, leaning on her with nearly all his weight, his fingers slick with blood. "Damn it, stay with me, love," he demanded sharply.

Azriel felt like he could barely breath. Like he was falling, tumbling down as he tried to will her to stay with him. Stay. Stay. Stay. Please stay. Stay...

Rhys was there suddenly, checking her pulse. "Breathing is erratic. She's in shock," he told Azriel with a grimace. "Mor is getting Madja..."

"Az..." her voice was so weak, but he turned to see dark brown eyes watching him, brows furrowing.

"Just keep breathing, Love," he told her, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

He could barely hear what was going on around him. It was as if he were in a bubble, a world of just himself and her and the desperate beat of her heart under his fingers.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"There is nothing you need to apologise for her, Irena," he promised her sharply. "Absolutely nothing."

Irena's eyes drifted shut. Azriel felt like something was dying inside him as her heartbeat fluttered against his fingertips. His world was collapsing, shattering into pieces as her breath stuttered.

"Stay. Just stay..." he was barely aware of what he was saying, his eyes frantically searching hers. She had to stay. He would do anything to keep her here. Anything.

"I am still owing you that flight," he told her. She hadn't let him take her flying yet. They had snuck away in the library...in the rooftop garden...in her office. But he had never gotten to take her flying. He had never gotten to take her out into Velaris. They had never had a date at a fancy restaurant, had never gone to see the symphony. There were thousands of things that he hadn't yet gotten to do with his mate, because they had all the time in the world.

Irena just stared at him, her eyes pleading, as her heartbeat slowed, fluttering weaker and weaker. Azriel felt a sharp pain in his chest as fear clawed at his spine. "Just hold on a little longer, love," he whispered. "Please."

And then there Madja. Thank the cauldron. There she was.

Azriel could barely manage to let go of her, his mind consumed with the singular thought of Irena's laboured, erratic heartbeat as he moved back. Madja immediately set to work.

He lunged for her head, lunged to pull it on his lap, to touch her with blood slick fingertips, her normally rosy red lips pale, her skin even whiter than usual.

"Hurts," she whispered, as Madja set to work, barking orders.

"I know, I know, love," he whispered, touching her cheek with his fingertips as Madja got to work.

His eyes searched hers as he murmured those words over and over, as if he could somehow hold her in this world through sheer force of will alone.

"We haven't had enough time," he whispered desperately, leaning his forehead against hers.

She was slipping away. He could feel it. Feel her slipping, feel her heartbeat slow. Feel the thread that tethered her to this world fray, fray, fray...

No. He couldn't lose her. Would not let her leave him. He had waited far too long for her. Far, far too long to let her slip through his fingers.

"Stay with me," he pleaded. "Please stay with me."

But her eyes were slipping shut, her head lolling to the side. He gently patted her cheek, trying to urge her back to consciousness, but he didn't think he was even really aware of what he was doing, where he was. The world had boiled down to a desperate litany, in his head. Stay...stay...please...don't you dare...

“I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight,” he told her fiercely.

He needed her to know that he would be there to be furious with her if she dared to die, that she couldn't die. Couldn't. That she had to stay. Had to keep fighting. There were too many things ahead of them...a wedding to plan, children to have, years and years of life to live.

“Az,” she breathed his name, her eyes not even open anymore.

“Open your eyes, Irena,” he demanded. “Look at me, love,”

Her eyes finally fluttered open at his command. It was barely more than a slither of brown, but he latched onto it, taking it for what it was. A chance. A moment to get through to her.

He wasn't sure what he was saying, but the words spilled forth from him, a litany, a desperate prayer. "Please," he breathed, "don't go...don't you dare..."

He was dimly aware that the others had gathered, but he didn't dare look away. Didn't dare look away from her as he cradled her head, trying to pour all of his prayers into those words. All of his hope and desperation.

"You can't go." A statement. An order. An absolute certainty in his voice. "I will not let you go."

He wouldn't. Would never, ever let her go. Would drag her back from the Cauldron's grasp with bloodied and broken hands if thats what had to be.

She didn't speak. Didn't need to. He could read her answer in her eyes, the determination in those brown eyes as she tried so, so hard to stay.

It was as if she were holding on for him, because he had asked her to. Because it was him there with her. Like she would fight until her last breath because he told her too. He didn't deserve this beautiful creature, who was willing to fight for him, willing to live for him.

It was something primal, something desperate, something fierce as he whispered those words over and over, like a prayer. "Fight. Fight. Fight."

And she listened. She did. He could feel her hold on, just barely grasp hold of that tether that kept her in this world. Just barely keep her eyes open.

Just look at him.

And she did, those dark eyes unfocused but open, staring up at him, watching him. Trying so, so hard. It nearly made his heart stop in the most terrible way that she was struggling for him.

And he was so proud of her. Of the way she was fighting like she was. Of the way she was grasping, hanging on to life like she was.

The seconds stretched too thin, feeling like eternities and only the slightest of moments. But her eyes were open, if only barely. She hadn't given up. Hadn't let go.

He was dimly aware of the others, Gwyn hovering with a worried expression, Madja murmuring quiet instructions to the others, Rhys kneeling not far away. But he barely glanced at them, barely dared to take his eyes off Irena.

He was certain that if he looked away, if he let this tenuous thread sever, that she would die. That as long as he kept her here, she wouldn't slip, wouldn't let go.

He had one hand on her cheek, her skin still clammy and pale, as her eyes slipped open and shut. But everytime, they would find his face. His eyes, like he was the only thing tethering her to the world. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her barely holding on, only that last sliver of determination keeping her here.

"Please," he pleaded, whispering those words like a prayer, like he would be praying to a vengeful god. Those moments felt like eternities, stretching on and on with only his desperate whispers. "Please..."

The world felt so still, so silent as if the world was holding its breath. Azriel's eyes locked on Irena, silently begging her, asking her to please, please...

Live, live live... he whispered those words over and over, a desperate plea to the Mother, the Cauldron, to anyone who would listen. To Irena, the only person in the entire world who truly mattered in that moment.

Her eyes were growing glassy, slipping closed only to jerk open again. Stay he demanded. Keep looking at me. Please.

She tried. Mother, she tried. Her eyes drifted to him, the smallest hint of life, of a spark there in those dark brown eyes.

He hardly dared to breathe, hardly dared to move. Afraid that any wrong move could tip her over the edge, could pull her into that chasm of non-existence that she was desperately clinging too.

He felt something pricking at his eyes, felt something in his chest cracking, breaking at the sheer intensity of emotions thrumming through him. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her like this, so pale, barely holding on, barely conscious...

“Alright,” Madja said quietly. “Good girl. You were so very brave.”

"Will...will she be alright?" He asked, voice hoarse.

He didn't let his eyes drift from Irena's face, her half lidded eyes staring at him. It filled him with such an intense pang of relief and fear at the same time. Relief, because she was alive...and fear, because they had been so close to losing her.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Madja warned. "But she'll make it. She lost a lot of blood. It will take some time to get her vitals stable again."

He felt like he could breathe for the first time. It was almost dizzying, the sheer, intense relief that flooded through him. Irena was here. Irena would live. It filled his veins with an almost drug like euphoria, that made him light headed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

He barely managed to keep that feeling in, the pure euphoria from showing as he smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. "Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse, eyes finally dragging away from Irena's face to look at Madja. "Just...thank you."

He looked back at Irena, taking in her face. Alive. Still alive. Still here with him, not gone. The tension seeped from his shoulders, a strange sort of exhaustion taking over. As if all the adrenaline that had fueled him, the fear, was slowly draining out of him like water.

“Merrill,” Irena whispered, her voice near silent.

Azriel felt his fingers brush her cheek, just the gentlest touch as he tried to keep it together. It had been too close. Too, too close. He couldn't stop the overwhelming feelings flowing through him of elation and fear as he looked down at her as he looked down at her, alive. Alive and breathing and whispering soft words. "Shhh," he whispered softly. "Save your strength. Don't strain yourself."

He looked up finding Cassians gaze who just shook his head. Merrill was dead.

Azriel couldn't quite process that information, not in that moment. His eyes were still drawn to Irena, still unable to take his eyes off of her for more than a moment. His fingers brushed her cheek again, just the faintest touch as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "Rest," he instructed softly. "I'll be right there.” He promised.

“Being here to her room,” Madja said quietly.

“My room,” he corrected.

The priestesses dormitory was locked from males. If he even tried to get in there it would’ve end well for him. And he wouldn’t leave her side.

“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply.

“Gwyn,” Rhys said quietly.Azriel didn't even acknowledge Gwyn's words, didn't have the energy. All he could focus on was the way Irena's eyes had drifted shut, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She would be alright. She was going to be alright. She was alive. Right now, in that moment, thats all that mattered.

“Az, how long have the two of you…” Cassian asked hesitantly.

Azriel just shrugged, his hand resting on Irena's hair, smoothing back from her face. “Two years. She’s my mate,” he said flatly as he gathered her up. 

“Mate,” she rasped. “Mine.”

“Yours,” he agreed softly.

[earthchica]

I want you

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you and Terry are roommates who are sexually attracted to each other; you have a habit of stealing his shirts, and Terry doesn't mind, but eventually, he confronts you about it.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f) fingering, unprotected counter/couch sex, size kink, roommates, nicknames (shorty, lil mama, baby, baby girl) & more. words: 2k

note: oddly enough, this is based on a dream I had; it's kind of short. also, I used the first line from @kumkaniudaku, "Askew," as inspiration for a line I used. I wanted to give credit; you did your thang, lol. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts.

-

It was a lazy, cozy Wednesday when you found yourself in your roommate, Terry's bedroom, about to steal one of his shirts while he was in the shower.

You twisted your lip, quickly grabbing the shirt off the bed and putting it on. Since you were short, it was like a dress on you. Most of his shirts were, and honestly, you loved them like that.

His shirts made you feel comfortable and safe, and smelled like him. You wouldn't admit this out loud, but you wanted him so badly, plus there was so much sexual tension between you two.

You smiled happily, put your glasses back on, and skipped to the kitchen to make dinner for you both. After a few minutes, Terry came out of the shower and dried off.

He walked into his bedroom, about to get dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, but there was a problem. Where the hell did his shirt go?

"Bruh…what?" Terry huffed, looking everywhere for his shirt, and then his mind went to you, and he grew a smile. Terry grabbed another shirt from his dresser to put on and went to look for you.

Terry called your name, his voice echoing through the apartment. "Yeah?" You asked, keeping your breathing even while you were looking through the cabinets.

He paused at the kitchen doorframe, seeing you wearing his shirt confirmed his thought. Terry smirks, looking at his beautiful, petite, curvy roommate, swaying your hips to the music.

Terry loves seeing you wear his clothes; he always gets excited by the way your beautiful curves look in the shirt. He's developed a strong crush on you ever since you two became roommates.

Maybe this is his chance to make a move on you. "Earth to Terry?" You called his name, waving your hand in his face, and he blinked away from his daydreaming.

"Are you good?" you asked curiously, and he nodded with a slight chuckle, moving closer to you and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Yeah! Is that my shirt?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You bite your lip and tilt your head, looking at him through your glasses.

"Yeah, maybe. Is that a problem?" you asked teasingly, and he bit his lip. Your heart started to race as his hands reaching the hem of his shirt, pulling you towards him.

"Not at all; you know when I see you wearing my shirt, it does things to me," He whispered intensely in your ear. You couldn't help but whimper.

The intense and lustful look in the eyes was sincere; Terry was a tall, sweet giant just towering over your plump, short self, making you go immediately into submissive.

“Tell me to stop! Tell me if you don't want this, and I will,” Terry said, slightly crouching to press his forehead against yours. You felt your breath hitch as he stared into your eyes.

“Don't stop, Terry! I want you so bad,” You whispered, feeling his hands slowly slide down to grope and massage your ass lightly. Terry's soft breathing was soothing.

He picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter before pressing his lips against yours; you moaned and grabbed the back of his neck.

“Wait, wait. Are you clear?” You asked, pushing him slightly away to look at him. His eyes had darkened, and he said, “Yeah, I’m clear. Are you?"

"Yes!" You answered, and he nodded. "Good, come here." Terry began kissing the exposed part of your neck, leaving little love bites. Slowly, he pulled the shirt over your head.

The cold air causes your nipples to become erect. "Terry please!" You moaned as you felt his erect, throbbing dick through his sweatpants, poking at your leg.

“Mmmm..fuck girl. Where have you been hiding these beautiful tits?” Terry asked, going suck your breasts, squeezing and playing with them.

"P-please…I need you!" You moaned, stroking him through his sweatpants, causing him to curse low.

“How much do you need me, baby?" Terry asked, looking into your eyes with this curious look that made your pussy more wetter than before.

“I need you so bad. I think about you all the time, Terry. I sometimes finger myself, wishing you were doing it,” You confessed honestly.

“Mmm, me too baby. Whenever I see you in one of my shirts, just want to bend you over and fuck you,” Terry confessed as his large hands gripped your plump legs.

He spread them slightly more before he dipped down, took your panties off, and ran his middle finger up your slit to collect your juices.

You bit your lip, feeling your body slightly shaking with excitement and pleasure. Terry pushes two fingers inside you, grazing your g-spot; he begins to thrust his fingers fast before slowing down abruptly.

"Terry, don’t stop, please," You whined, realizing he stopped for a second. "Touch me, please…I need you!" You moaned, his body standing in front of you.

"Patience, shorty, I'm gonna just do that!" You bite your lip from smiling at his nickname for you as he leans to kiss you, gripping your long, curly 4a hair for a second.

You moaned, feeling his throbbing length press against your thigh again. "You're so damn stunning, you know." He spoke into your soft brown skin, kissing down to your core.

"Mmmm…wet for me, baby?" Terry asked, spreading your legs out a little before you could get a word out. His hot tongue met your pussy, pressing against you.

“Yes, yes, ahh, yes,” You moaned, feeling him lick and run his tongue up your folds, flicking your clit and moaning into your core; he sent vibrations up your body.

You throw your head back, resting it against the cabinet and gripping the back of his head. You cry his name as he goes faster and places your leg over his shoulder while practically making out with your pussy.

Terry pulls away and slaps your pussy, causing you to moan. “Look at me while I’m eating your pussy, baby; tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he says, looking at you with those eyes and going back in.

“Ahhh…fuck Terry, It feels so good; your tongue feels amazing,” You cried as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, T. I'm gonna-" You cried out as your orgasm hit you like a wave.

Your head started spinning as his thumb circled your clit, his eyes following each expression on your face like he was memorizing it. You pulled him up, bringing his lips to yours.

So you could taste yourself, and you could move your hand down, taking his shirt off, and feel up his abs, prompting a moan from him, which makes you moan as well.

You pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, and he took him off completely. You got a feel of his dick, knowing it must be big, but just looking at it now.

It was thick, lengthy, and ready for some release. You felt slightly unconfident that you weren't gonna be able to take it all. “It’s so big, I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, baby! I know you can; we’ll go slow,” Terry encouraged, settling between your legs and pulling you into a kiss, containing your moans as his dick slid up and down your wet folds.

“AHHHH!” You gasped, feeling him slide inside you, filling you slowly. "You good, baby?" He asked, cupping your cheek as you closed your eyes for a second.

"Yeah...it feel good...Terry, just move, please." You moaned, feeling yourself clench around him, and he pulled you in another kiss again, before breaking apart to moan.

"You feel so good and tight, shorty," Terry said, making his thrusts slowly, and you feel yourself adjusted to his size. "Faster, please," You asked.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, and you nodded, “Yes, faster, Daddy!” Terry growled at you calling him Daddy, pulling you to kiss you, lifting you from the counter, and moving towards the couch.

“lil mama, If I go faster….imma fuck these glasses off your face. Are you sure?” He asked, laying you down in the corner of the couch before getting your answer.

“Yes, I want you to go faster and deeper, please.” You said with a smile, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer which made him grin.

"You drive me crazy," Terry said, taking his dick in his hand and sliding back into you, going faster and deeper. You grip onto his biceps, arching your back.

"Yes, just like that, ahh fuck me, oh my god. yes, this feels so good," You cried, slowly feeling your glasses coming off your face and dropping to your side.

"You like this, don't you, you like the way I'm fucking you?" He asked, and you nodded, crying out when he angled his hips and his pelvic bone slid across your clit. "Oh my god, Terry."

"Fuck, look at you. I told you you could take this dick; you gotta me feeling proud," Terry moaned, looking down at you, his voice deeper as he grunted with each thrust.

His lips are coming down to kiss your lips fast as his dick twitching inside of you. "Daddy, let me ride you," you begged as your nails dug into his arms.

"Shit! You wanna ride me, beautiful?" Terry asked, clutching at your waist. "Fuck yes, I do, please let me," You whimpered, and Terry chuckled at your desperation.

Terry groans softly as he pulls out of you and moves to sit in the middle of the couch. He leaned back against the couch, waiting for you, and you moved up, grabbed hold of his dick, and slid down slowly.

You bite your lip to keep from screaming, just loving how he filled you so perfectly; his dick was so throbbing with this new sex position; it just made your eyes roll back.

Terry looked at you in rapture, groaned, and threw his head back. You bit your lip, grabbed his shoulders, bounced up and down, and made yourself throw it back.

“Fuck, fuck, just like that. Goddamn, jiggled that ass on that dick,” Terry moaned, closing his eyes for a second before looking up at you, watching your breasts match the rhythm of your riding.

"Oh fuck, I always imagine it being good, but I think it’s much more than that; it’s incredible, Terry!" You said, feeling him grabbing your ass cheeks with his hands.

You continued to bounce up and down his dick while holding the back of the couch. Terry pushed your arms to the side and slightly lowered himself before wrapping his arms around your back, going full beast mode.

You let out a loud chant of moans, feeling yourself get close to the edge. "Are you about to cum, baby?" Terry asked, giving your ass cheek smack.

You cried in response, happy tears coming from your face, and you have never had a man make you feel this fucking good ever in your life.

“Ahh yes…yes fuck me, fuck me through it, Daddy,” You cried, loudly going to bury your face into his neck. His hips smacked against your ass fast,

The sound of slapping skin was louder than any sound you'd made yet, and you felt the knot form in the pit of your stomach. You pulled back to look at Terry's face.

“Fuck, baby….shit this pussy” Terry moans as his dick twitches and swells deep inside you. You reached your high with a loud moan of his name. "AHH TERRY!!!!!!!"

Your inner walls clenched tightly around his dick as Terry reached his own a few seconds later, his body giving into the blissful pleasure while he pulled out and released himself.

He was panting heavily, his arms still tightly wrapped around your waist as his head rested against the couch. His breathing hit your brown skin, tingling it a little bit and the room fell silent.

The two of you finally calmed down from your intense orgasms. “Damn, that was fucking special!" Terry breaks the silence with a laugh.

“Yeah, it was, " you replied, feeling awkward and shy. You didn't know what to do after, so you quickly grabbed your glasses and moved off of him to put them on.

You tried to cover yourself up, but Terry stopped you. "Hey…don't get like that. There's no need to be shy now, especially after what we just did"

"I'm not being shy. I'm good. This was nice, um…I'm gonna go take a shower,” you said, not letting Terry say a word before dashing to your bedroom and leaving him dumbfounded.

You closed your door and leaned your head against it, feeling stupid for being weird like that, but it was for your own good; you knew you couldn’t let it happen again.

part 2?

[barcaatthemoon]

your best girl || alexia putellas x reader ||

You comfort Alexia when she returns after the Olympics.

18+

Everybody had a job. You had nearly forgotten that with the craziness of the Olympics. Alexia worked hard to be the best captain for her country that she could. There was only so much that her on-pitch presence could do. Their issue was at the coach's level, and the team suffered because of that. Alexia had only come back to you a couple days early after being knocked away from the medals, and that was where your job started.

It was always difficult gauging the amount of space to give Alexia. You understood how devastating a blow it was, having lost the chance for a medal at your first Olympics. Back then, you had wished that someone would have helped you pick up the pieces of yourself, but instead, you tried to brave it all on your own. Alexia wasn't like you, and that was where you apprehension about talking to her came in.

The thought of smothering Alexia and pushing her away haunted you constantly. You needed to do something to show her that you were there for her that wasn't over the top of dramatic. And so, you dropped as many little hints that you were just waiting for her to come to you. You thought for a moment that you'd end up driving yourself mad waiting for Alexia, but the silence and tension in the apartment only lasted for a few days at most.

"What is all of this?" Alexia asked as she stood behind your desk chair. You tried to turn, but Alexia was holding you forward. You could feel her lean down a bit, reading over your analysis of the games for work. "You've been busy."

"Never too busy for you though," you told her. Alexia dropped her hands from your chair, finally allowing for you to turn and face her. "I'm glad to see you up and around a bit."

"The bed felt a little cold, and I know that it's not really a big thing, but I was hoping that you had some time to join me," Alexia said. You nodded, quickly saving the small additions you had made to your analysis paper before shutting your computer down and following Alexia into the bedroom.

It looked like she had been cleaning a bit before she came to get you. The nest of blankets that Alexia had created to curl up and wallow in was now dismantled. She had tidied up her laundry from the floor and made the bed, which you knew were big steps. Aside from that, you didn't let the candles on the bedside table or the songs from your R&B sex playlist playing.

"How exactly am I helping you warm up the bed?" you asked teasingly. Alexia played it innocent as she sat back on the bed. She patted the spot next to you, and you all but rushed over to join her. Sex hadn't been on the table for you mentally when Alexia got home, but you were a bit relieved to not be waiting weeks like the last big loss Alexia had faced.

You didn't understand how someone so amazing could get down on themselves so easily. Alexia was under immense pressure from fans, but it was nothing compared to what she put herself through. You felt guilty learning from those around Alexia that it only got worse when you came in the picture. In your eyes, you were washed up and spat out by the game, but Alexia held you in the regard that some had during your prime.

"I did have a couple of things in mind. I think that I need a little reminder of who I am." Alexia ducked her head down until her face was tucked into the crook of your neck. She was being shy, like she was ashamed of really asking for what you wanted. Still, you completely understood wht she needed. It wasn't exactly what had become your normal, but you were still definitely up to reminding Alexia that she didn't have to win everything in order for you to love and cherish her.

"I get that you need this for what happened in Paris, but forget about football and the Olympics completely. Right now it's just the two of us. I am just me, and you are just you." Alexia struggled to take your words to heart at first, but that was expected. You were used to this little speedbump, but it was the most important part of everything in your eyes. "You love me despite the fact that I haven't worn a jersey of my own in three years. I'll love you even if you never put another Spain or Barcelona jersey on again. I'll love you when the day comes that your body can't handle the game anymore, and I will take care of you when you inevitably push yourself too far again. Do you know why?"

"No," Alexia answered. You turned her face so that she was looking at you and you only.

"Because I did not fall in love with Alexia Putellas, the footballer. I fell in love with the woman who doesn't know how to tread lightly, so she wakes me up at odd hours every single time that she gets out of bed. I fell in love with the woman who goes out of her way to take care of her community and everybody that she cares about. I fell in love with the woman who runs into the arm of the couch every single morning because she's too busy watching me walking into the kitchen. I fell in love with you because of what I saw off of the pitch," you told her. Alexia was blushing deeply, unsure of what to do with praise in that sense.

"I just wanted to win and make you proud. You got this new job after working so hard these past couple of years to learn Spanish. You're doing so much, and what have I done to compare?" Alexia confessed. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Alexia was constantly doing things that often made you feel a bit inferior, so it blew your mind a little to hear that Alexia had been feeling this way too.

"Ale, you are the best soccer player in the world. I'm only here because I gave up and called it quits. You're doing amazing things all of the time. You're the best in the world, and let's face it, I wouldn't have gotten my foot in the door if I wasn't your girlfriend. I could have worked and worked and worked forever, but they wouldn't have cared." Alexia's face changed from its formerly soft expression to a hardened one. "I'm not here to argue about my achievements with you, I'm here to remind you that this one setback won't define your worth."

"Just you wait, they'll be referring to me as (Y/n) (Y/l/n)'s girlfriend. Hopefully one of the better ones," Alexia said. She sounded so confident and sure of herself that you had to believe her.

"You'll always be the best one. Hopefully you'll also be my last one," you told her. Alexia leaned in and kissed you, slowly pulling you on top of her. You let the kiss progress naturally, neither of you pushing things too far without the other pressing equally as much.

"Take this off," Alexia requested as she started tugging at the hem of your shirt. You sat back and started removing the pieces of your clothes that Alexia asked you to. In turn, she briefly moved you off of her lap to completely undress herself. The tension in the room thickened a bit as she laid down again, legs spread as you stood at the end of the bed.

"You look unreal," you muttered as you moved onto the bed. You didn't want to leave Alexia waiting. Alexia didn't want to wait either, guiding your head between her legs without any ounce of hesitation. You could see that Alexia was already wet. She wasn't soaked but still undeniably wet.

You didn't have a chance to tease Alexia. She guided your face to her cunt, movements on the cusp of being pushy. Alexia was almost always in control, and she doubled down whenever you were topping. She didn't want to wait around or be teased, Alexia wanted to cum. You still had your chance to revel in the taste of her, even if it wasn't in the same way that she got to with you.

It didn't come as a surprise to you to have Alexia grinding her hips to move against your tongue. She didn't seem to want your fingers at all, working herself up on just your mouth. You loved it, loved knowing that you could make Alexia feel so good with just a few simple movements. Topping Alexia gave you a rush that you'd be riding for the next couple of days, until Alexia felt up to the task of "putting you back in your place."

"I'm so fucking close. Don't stop, please don't stop," Alexia swore. She wasn't usually one for pleading, but you'd take it. Her hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, nails digging in as you savored every drop of her that you could. Alexia let you continue with the strokes of your tongue past her first orgasm, only pushing you away after the second. She rode one high into the next before her brain and body seemed to catch up to each other.

She was sensitive, and her legs jerked shut, nearly hitting you in the process. You didn't sit back and stare, instead going straight into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. Alexia let you clean her up, not saying anything to you until after she had grabbed new clothes to wear for the night. You stripped the bed and put everything in the washer, slightly surprised to find Alexia waiting for you in the kitchen when you were done.

"I don't think I let you know how important you are to me. I don't know how badly I would have spiraled without you here," Alexia told you. You blushed as she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you from behind. "Tomorrow, I start training again. I've only got a few years until the next World Cup and Olympics."

"I mean, I guess," you sighed. Alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek before she grabbed a snack to take into the living room. You went decided to go to bed, already well aware that Alexia wouldn't get to bed for another hour or so at least. You set an alarm for 1, deciding that if she wasn't in bed by then, you were going out to the living room to collect her yourself.

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part five

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is a mess after Mattheo visits the infirmary.

Word Count: 3833

Warnings: Unrequited love. The chapter is just full on angst, honestly. Mentions of drugging? Y/n is used once. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 This is short and mainly focuses on Mattheo, but the next (and final!) chapter will be even more satisfying because of it. Even though a lot of you are mad at Mattheo, hopefully this makes up for it. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading and giving me feedback, I don't know what I'd do without you.

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“I don’t understand. He seemed fine when I left.” Theo mutters under his breath, his voice tense and barely audible over the sharp echo of your hurried footsteps bouncing off the stone walls as the three of you head to the infirmary.

“I don’t know,” Pansy sighs, her voice low and laced with frustration. “Everything seemed normal when I first got there, but then he just… snapped. It didn’t seem like anyone had said anything to set him off; everyone looked just as shocked as I was. He was so worked up—angry, completely irrational—that we all decided to take him to the infirmary. We thought maybe he’d hit his head or something.”

“But he didn’t.” You mutter, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach as Pansy’s words echo in your mind. A love potion. Veronica’s been giving him a love potion. The thought replays, each repetition tightening the knot in your chest.

“No. It didn’t take long for Madam Pomfrey to realize he’d been given a love potion. One so badly brewed that it’s been fucking with his emotions.”

Pansy shakes her head, her expression twisted in frustration. “Veronica came in, putting on her best worried girlfriend act. When I first confronted her about a love potion, she played innocent, swearing up and down she’d never hurt him because she ‘loved’ him.” Pansy scoffs, anger simmering in her eyes. “But after enough yelling, she finally admitted it. She’d been giving him a potion, and things only went wrong because she tried to make it stronger—his feelings had started shifting, and she couldn’t stand it.”

A wave of sickness washes over you—anger and frustration curling together in a tight knot. For a moment, you consider darting to the right, heading straight for the restrooms to lose control in private, but you force yourself to steady your breath. This isn’t the time to fall apart.

For a brief, unsettling moment, you wonder if that’s why he confessed his feelings for you—not because he meant it, but because of the love potion’s influence. The thought stirs something confusing and hollow inside you, but now isn’t the time to untangle it. As you step into the infirmary, nerves coil tight in your stomach, but Theo’s hand slips into yours giving a reassuring squeeze, soothing you. You’re grateful for the touch—it’s the only thing keeping your anxiety from overwhelming you entirely.

“How is he?” Pansy asks, her voice tense as she strides ahead of you and Theo, reaching out to take Blaise’s hand. Draco and Enzo are there too, still in their practice clothes, looking out of place in the sterile, quiet room. Madam Pomfrey is nowhere in sight, but your eyes immediately catch the vial on the table next to him—whatever it is, it’s been left there, untouched for now.

You glance at Draco, casually leaning against a pillar near Mattheo’s bed, and Enzo, perched on the edge of the bed parallel to him. Neither of them looks particularly worried, which eases some of the tension in your chest. In fact, Draco seems to be listening intently as Enzo quietly details the reasons he’s been feeling off about Veronica. 

Then you finally allow your eyes to shift to the bed, where Mattheo lies back, his curls a wild tangle against the pillow. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and you can’t help but wonder if the love potion is to blame. His brow is furrowed, his gaze fixed on Enzo with a look of confusion, as though he’s struggling to piece something together.

“A little out of it,” Blaise says with a gentle smile, his eyes softening. “Pomfrey gave him something to counteract the potion.” He glances over Pansy’s head and spots you, offering a sympathetic smile your way. “He’s been asking for you.”

“I don’t know..” You trail off, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of how Mattheo will react to seeing you. The last couple of months had clearly been tense and distant between you two—what was stopping him from starting another argument? The last thing he needed right now was more stress. But at the end of the day, he was your friend—he had been for years. What kind of friend would you be if you turned down his request to see you, especially when he asked for you specifically?

But it's too late to make a decision—Mattheo’s eyes shift, locking onto you. It’s immediate, the way he sits up slightly, his eyes brightening with recognition, and a loopy smile forming on his lips. “Hi, my love,” he says, his voice soft and warm as if nothing else matters in the room. 

Draco and Enzo both turn their heads toward you and for a moment, you stand frozen, your lips parted as you scramble for the right words. 

My love. 

It’s hard to know how to respond to that, and your friends don’t seem any more certain, their eyes darting nervously toward Theo as they exchange uneasy glances.

You take a step forward, letting go of Theo’s hand as you approach the edge of Mattheo’s bed. A twinge of guilt runs through you as you release his hand, but you push it aside, not wanting Mattheo to see the two of you together yet. Not in this state.

“Hi,” you murmur, your voice soft. Theo watches as Mattheo pats the spot next to him, an unspoken plea in his gesture, hoping you’ll come and lie beside him. Theo prays—desperately—that you won’t, that you’ll stay exactly where you are. It already hurts more than he can bear to have you let go of his hand, but if you climb into bed with Mattheo, it’ll feel like you’ve ripped his heart from his chest. And the thought of Mattheo calling you ‘my love’—he can’t even bring himself to think about it.

“The love potion must still be lingering in his system,” Draco mutters, his gaze flicking toward Theo. “That explains why he’s been so jealous of you two. Veronica messed up the potion so badly, he ended up falling for Y/n instead.”

The rhythmic click of Madam Pomfrey’s shoes fills the room as she enters. “The effects of the love potion have worn off, Mr. Malfoy,” she says crisply, her voice professional. “Whatever he says now is simply how he truly feels.” With a swift movement, she places a bowl on the bedside table, setting a cool cloth on Mattheo’s forehead with a practical, “For the fever.”

Mattheo flinches at the shock of the cool, damp cloth on his forehead, shooting Madam Pomfrey an irritated look, which she ignores entirely.

“Fever?” Enzo questions, and she gives a swift nod.

“As I mentioned, the effects have worn off,” she explains, “but his body still needs time to purge the potion from his system, which is why he has a fever. It should break by morning, and he’ll be back to himself.”

Madam Pomfrey dips the cloth back into the water, preparing to place it on Mattheo’s forehead again, but he turns his head, ducking away. Her gaze shifts to you, and she extends the cloth with a small, knowing smile. “Perhaps it would be best if you handled this.”

Part of you wants to tell her you can’t. It feels wrong to tend to Mattheo, especially with Theo standing right there. A few months ago, you’d have agreed without a second thought. But things are different now—distant and messy in ways you don’t quite understand. Still, with Madam Pomfrey watching you so expectantly and now Mattheo’s gaze fixed intently on you, saying no feels impossible.

So, you step forward, taking the cloth from her hand before carefully settling onto the edge of his bed. Leaning in, you dab his forehead gently, your movements cautious and deliberate. Mattheo watches you intently, but you keep your gaze firmly on the task, avoiding his eyes as you work. 

“You know,” Mattheo murmurs, his voice soft and a little slurred, “I think you’re perfect.” For a moment, you freeze, your eyes darting to meet his.

“Oh.” It’s all you manage, the word slipping out as you quickly refocus on dabbing his forehead, ignoring the warmth spreading through your veins. Embarrassment prickles over you, knowing your friends are standing there, their whispered reactions confirming they heard every word Mattheo said. But when you glance up and catch Theo’s expression, your heart sinks—he heard it too.

Theo meets your gaze, and you silently hope he understands—you’re sorry. Sorry that you’re the one Mattheo wants right now, and that if you could pass this task to Enzo, you would. But guilt tugs at you, knowing that Mattheo’s emotions have been chaotic because of the love potion. Could you truly hold his actions against him?

Mattheo’s fingers brush lightly against your wrist, drawing your attention back to him. His gaze is unwavering, soft with a raw vulnerability that you’ve rarely seen in him. “You’re so perfect,” He repeats. “And I’ve only ever wanted to be good enough for you.” His fingers brush against your skin, and you freeze—shock, guilt, and frustration rising within you. You swallow it all down, forcing yourself to keep calm as you murmur for him to rest, resuming your task of blotting his forehead.

Theo watches as you continue to take care of Mattheo, who continues to brush his fingers against your free hand as he looks up at you as if you’re the only girl he’s ever loved. A wave of nausea rises in Theo as he watches his best friend touch you, gaze at you as if you’re an angel—the girl he loves so fiercely it hurts. His jaw clenches, a subconscious effort to keep his mouth shut and prevent himself from snapping at Mattheo to keep his hands off you. He knows he has no right to be jealous—not when you were never truly his to begin with.

The thought hits him so hard and painfully that he feels like he can’t breathe. Without a word, he turns and walks out of the infirmary, and no matter how badly he wants to turn and look at you, he doesn’t.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

By the next morning, Mattheo is back to himself—at least, that’s what everyone’s been saying. Theo knows this because it’s all anyone can talk about. He’s not sure how the news spread so fast, but he’s willing to bet Pansy had something to do with it. Not intentionally, of course; he just knows she tends to speak loudly when she’s worked up, and he’s been aware of her suspicions about Veronica for months. You’d told him all about how Pansy had been convinced something was off with Veronica, but you hadn’t wanted to get into the details.

After spending the entire morning catching snippets of gossip, Theo decided the library would be his refuge for some peace and quiet. For a while, the back corner had offered him just that—until two girls settled on the other side of the bookshelf. Unfortunately, that meant he could hear every word they said, and it didn't take long for their chatter to break the silence he'd been craving.

“Did you hear about Mattheo Riddle?” An eager voice asked, accompanied by the screech of a chair being dragged out.

“You mean how his girlfriend slipped him a love potion?” Came the bored reply, the words dripping with indifference.

“Uh huh,” Theo pictures the first girl nodding. “I’m not surprised though.”

“Amelia,” The second voice sighed. “That’s an awful thing to say.”

“I just mean because even when he was with Veronica, he was still chasing after Y/n.” Theo feels his stomach drop, the urge to get up and leave washing over him. He starts to pack his bag, his movements quick and automatic, but then their next words slow his movements. He freezes, his hands stilling midair—he’s listening closely now.

“I thought she was dating Theo Nott.” The second girl speaks, her voice tinged with confusion, clearly already tired of the conversation.

“I think that’s just a rumor.” Amelia denies, and even though she's technically right, Theo feels a surge of defensiveness rise within him.

“Oh,” Girl two murmurs. “I could’ve sworn they were.”

Amelia hums, “No, I think she’ll end up with Mattheo.”

That pushes Theo into motion. He hastily stuffs everything into his bag, determination flooding through him, though his stomach twists with nerves. He has to tell you how he feels. He wants a chance—even if you choose Mattheo, at least he’ll never have to wonder what might have been between you two.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

When Theo finally spots you, he wishes he’d stayed in the library. You’re sitting on one of the couches, your back turned to him, but he can tell by the open book beside you—left unread—that you’ve long since lost focus. But that isn’t what bothers him.

No, the real problem is Mattheo, seated right beside you, facing you fully, his gaze intense and longing, “Please, love.”

“Mattheo—”

“If there’s even a part of you that feels something for me, just give me a chance,” Mattheo says, his voice low, edging closer to you. Theo’s stomach tightens as he watches. “I know I should’ve told you sooner—before any of this.”

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours,” you murmur, your eyes drifting to Mattheo. “I think you need to focus on resting, clearing your head before we can figure any of this out.”

“I’ve got a clear head, love,” he insists, his voice steady despite the weight of it all. You sigh, your gaze dropping for a moment. 

“Honestly,” he continues, his words softer, “you’re the only thing I’ve ever been clear-headed about.”

You fall silent for a moment, your gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace. Theo watches Mattheo watch you, a quiet tension in the air. He’s thankful for the shadows that stretch across the room, hiding his frame, because if they didn’t, Mattheo would no doubt see him standing there.

Mattheo whispers your name, his voice heavy with longing and desperation, the sound so raw it nearly knocks Theo off balance—mirroring the same ache that's tearing through him. “If you were mine…” Mattheo pauses, his gaze locked on yours. “I swear, I’d never give you a reason to regret it.”

Theo fights the overwhelming urge to make himself known, to grab your hand and plead with you to choose him instead. He’d fall to his knees and beg if it meant even the slightest chance with you—though he knows you’d never have to ask. He’d do it willingly, without hesitation, dropping down and promising you the world if only you’d agree to be his. 

He wants to tell you to remember these past few months, to think of last night’s kiss. To tell you he’s certain he fell in love with you the moment he saw you—that every vision he has of the future has you at the center of it.

But instead, he watches, a cold sense of dread settling in his chest, as you slowly reach out and intertwine your fingers with Mattheo’s. You don’t say anything, but it’s clear to him that words aren’t necessary—because at this moment, he realizes he has never stood a chance.

It was always going to be Mattheo.

It feels like a cruel echo of last night—that same sinking realization that no matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be what you want. It feels like he can’t get a proper breath in, so he turns and leaves, unwilling to stay and hear just how deeply your heart belongs to Mattheo.

He hadn’t seen your face, but if he had, he would’ve noticed the unease and discomfort in your expression as you turn to look at Mattheo, preparing yourself to turn him down as gently as possible.

“Mattheo, I can’t,” you whisper, your voice soft but steady as you squeeze his hand. The words come slowly, carefully, as if you’re afraid of shattering him. “I really can’t, and I’m sorry.”

He swallows hard, his jaw tightening as he looks away, frustration flickering in his eyes. When his gaze returns to you, it’s filled with a quiet vulnerability. “If I’d made a move… before all of this,” he asks softly, “would you have said yes?”

“Yes,” you admit softly. He sits up straighter, and you can already see the determination flickering in his eyes, ready to argue, ready to convince you. But you press on before he can speak. “But everything is different, Mattheo—Veronica, us drifting apart...” You pause, your voice faltering. “...Theo.” You roll your lips together, trying to suppress the wave of emotion that just saying Theo’s name stirs inside you.

Mattheo sighs, a subtle shake of his head as his gaze drops to your intertwined fingers, his thumb grazing the back of your hand. He watches it with a quiet intensity, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of it, and your heart cracks at the sight, the ache of it almost too much to bear.

“I’m sure you knew,” You start, embarrassment coloring your tone. “For the longest time, I had feelings for you. I spent so much time hoping—wishing—that you'd feel the same. That you'd stop with the one-night stands and realize that you wanted me just as much as I wanted you. I was convinced, you know? Convinced that because I understood you better than anyone, or at least I thought I did, that you’d finally feel safe enough with me to let me in.”

“But I did,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “The whole time, I wanted you. But Gods, the way Theo’s always looked at you... I couldn’t make a move. I knew it would tear him apart if we got together. So I waited, told myself I was giving him time to make his move—but he never did. I built myself up, so many times, ready to ask you out, to make you mine. But then I’d always freeze, thinking, ‘What if things don’t work out?’ And I’d lose both of my best friends.”

He shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze. “But then Veronica started giving me that potion, and I—I had feelings for her, but every time I’d see you, it was like that’s all I could focus on. And then suddenly, you’re with Theo, holding his hand, spending the night with him, and it felt like I was losing my mind. It hurt, seeing you with him. And maybe it’s selfish, but I had to know, had to see if there was any chance left with you. Because watching you two together made me realize that what I was really afraid of was losing you completely.”

You’re at a loss for words, your mind failing to catch up to the fact that Theo has feelings for you- and he has for years. So you offer Mattheo a weak, sad smile, the tears gathering at your lashes threatening to spill over. He squeezes your hand, and you sigh, squeezing it back. You’re both sat in the quiet common room, except for your occasional sniffle, for who knows how long, holding each others hand and watching the flames dance.

Mattheo clears his throat, a slight tension in his shoulders as he glances over at you, “When are you going to tell him you love him?”

You hesitate, a knot forming in your throat as your words trip over themselves. “I don’t—I’m not…” You falter, but Mattheo sends you a knowing look. “It’s just... too soon.”

“It’s not.” His voice is firm. 

“How do you know?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it, and immediately, guilt lances through you. It feels wrong to ask, especially after he’s just laid his feelings bare.

“Because he’s been in love with you for years,” Mattheo smiles, but it’s nothing you’ve ever seen from him before. “Trust me, it’s not going to be too soon for him to hear.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

He’s on his way to practice when your voice cuts through the quiet hum of the common room, calling his name. His stomach sinks, the realization hitting hard—he’s going to have to face you after days of successfully keeping his distance. Reluctantly, he turns toward you, and there you are, seated comfortably in one of the plush chairs near the fire. A sweet smile on your lips, and resting on your lap is a book—likely the same one he noticed you holding when you were talking to Mattheo. That puts a bitter taste in his mouth.

There’s something different about you. His gaze lingers, tracing the way the soft flicker of the flames paints your features in warm, golden light. You look gorgeous, as always, but there’s an unmistakable lightness about you now, a brightness that wasn’t there before. A taunting thought creeps into his mind: this is his doing. You look happier—because you’ve finally gotten everything you’ve ever wanted. Mattheo Riddle.

“I haven’t seen you much.” You say, leaning forward as he slowly walks towards you.

He shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets with a casual ease that doesn’t quite match the tension in his voice. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot going on.”

You knew this already. Every time you asked the boys about him, there was always a new excuse for why he hadn’t been around: He’s behind on his assignments. He’s gotten detention. He isn’t feeling well. He’s taking a nap. 

“So I’ve heard.” You say lightly, teasingly. “I actually wanted to know if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade, since we didn’t last time.” A soft smile curves at the memory of him taking you to the flower field.

You saw the look on his face that day, the way he was clearly bothered by you taking care of Mattheo. But you figured spending time together would be the perfect opportunity to set things straight. To tell him it meant nothing, that you turned Mattheo down, and that all you truly want is him. It’s a surprisingly good feeling, better than you imagined, knowing that Mattheo is aware of your feelings for Theo—and that he actually encouraged you to go for it.

His eyes meet yours briefly before darting away, and he rakes a hand through his hair, a nervous edge to the motion. “Oh, uh... I can’t.”

“Oh, okay.” You respond, your voice barely hiding the disappointment. An awkward silence settles between you, and Theo avoids your gaze, leaving you sitting there, a little wounded.

“Actually, dolcezza,” he says softly, and your heart flutters at the familiar nickname, hope sparking in your chest. But then his next words land like a blow. “I can’t spend time with you anymore.”

Your heart sinks, the statement feels like a bucket of cold water to the face. “What?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he continues, his tone heavy with sincerity, “but I can’t be around you the way we were before. Not when you’re with him.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work. likes don't spread posts on tumblr 🤍

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Conversion "Therapy" Mention / Homophobia

AN: Sorry this one took a while! - longer than I'd like away!. Coming back from a mini vaca and getting back into work and routine is a nightmare, also my delicate sleep schedule is ruineddd. Anywho, we should be back in business now! :) now, DJ play Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan!

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: Great job, bud! Tree is looking great!

Malcolm: It’s because I’m a decorator like mommy.

Jonathan: Mom, are you leaving? We’re supposed to decorate the tree too.

Nancy: Save a few ornaments for me to put on there, darling. Mommy has to step out for a couple hours.

Geoffrey: Johnny’s right, you know. Decorating it is apart of the deal.

Nancy: Can’t you spare me an hour or two?

Geoffrey: Remember what I said about being there?

Nancy: That’s not fair. I’ve been doing better, haven’t I? I left work early, which I’m hardly ever able to do and we found the tree together. I haven’t seen Vanessa in 16 years, Geoffrey. This is important to me.

Geoffrey: Yeah, well, this is pretty important to them.

Nancy: Please don’t make me feel guilty about this.

Geoffrey: It’s just you and Vanessa, right?

Nancy: [frowns] Yes, of course. I’ll be back, ok?

-

Vanessa: I’m glad you came.

Nancy: I wouldn’t have miss this for the world.

Vanessa: You look so beautiful tonight.

Nancy: [blushes] So do you. You’ve always have.

Vanessa: [smiles] I wasn’t sure on your choice of champagne, so I hope you don’t mind we have mine. I guess it’s one of the many things we’ll have to learn about each other.

Nancy: This is perfect. I’m sure I’ll love anything you like.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself unable to eat. Instead, I got my fill of her. I studied her, consumed the sight of her with greedy, curious eyes]

Nancy Narrates: [It thrilled and frightened me the way she took me in too, as if she was trying to recall all those precious details that may have gotten lost in time. Seeing all the ways I could have changed and stayed the same]

Nancy Narrates: [One thing was for certain: my heart still raced the moment our fingers found one another, just like when we were girls. It was a delicate and familiar touch that I could feel from inside, and it was almost as if no time had passed at all]

Vanessa: [softly] Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, the woman you’ve become. I’ve thought of you, over time, what kind of woman you grew up to be.

Nancy: Is it what you expected?

Vanessa: Successful? Powerful? Stunning? Yes, I like to think so.

Nancy: I’ve thought of you too.

Vanessa: Yeah?

Nancy: I thought about what you did, after high school. Who you became. If you fell in love. If you thought about me too. Feels good, knowing you did.

Vanessa: I think holding on to the version of you I remembered kept me sane, after all this time. Do you mind if I smoke? Helps my nerves.

Nancy: As long as I can bum one.

Vanessa: Hey, do you remember our first cigarette together?

Nancy: How could I forget?

Vanessa: Share a light with me. For old times’ sake?

Vanessa: So, care to share all those burning questions you said you had for me?

Nancy: Now I feel like I’m being put on the spot.

Vanessa: Oh, come on. Don’t go shy on me now. How’s this? I’ll ask a question, then you, and so on.

Nancy: Alright. Shoot.

Vanessa: Do you still talk in your sleep?

Nancy: I- what!? I did not talk in my sleep!

Vanessa: Oh, yes you did. Full sentences too. You monologued even.

Nancy: Fuck off, I did NOT talk in my sleep! How would you know anyway? You were practically narcoleptic. I’d be up for hours after you fell asleep.

Vanessa: [murmurs] Still talks in her sleep- in denial about it. Ok. Got it. Your turn.

Nancy: I’ll ask a REAL question this time.

Vanessa: [smirks] That was a real question. I came all this way just to know but ok, ask away.

Nancy: Well, speaking of ‘all this way’. Where do you live?

Vanessa: Here and there. I don’t like to sit in one spot for too long; I get restless. Bored. I’ve spent the last 6 months in Tomorang. Beautiful people. Lovely culture. That’s actually where I heard your name mentioned for the first time. You’ve got quite the reputation over there. You’ve been up to no good, I hear.

Nancy: Christ...long story. Please don’t ask. Are you thinking of moving here?

Vanessa: Ah, ah. It’s my turn. Let’s see...ah! Who’s idea was it to make Geoffrey ‘Mr. Landgraab’. That’s probably the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.

Nancy: My parents, of course. They didn’t want to erase the family name and since they no longer have a son to continue their legacy- well. You get it. Speaking of marriage, are you married?

Vanessa: No, I’m not married.

Nancy: Well. Are you...seeing anyone?

Vanessa: [smirks] No.

Nancy: Children?

Vanessa: No children either. Those counts as a question, by the way.

Nancy: Oops. Ok, ok, you can ask two then. It’s only fair.

Vanessa: I guess I’ll ask a ‘real question’ then. Are you happy like this?

Nancy: [pauses] Like...what?

Vanessa: Married. Married to him. Does it make you happy?

Nancy: [shifts] I care for him very much. He’s the father of my children. He’s a good man and he’s good to me. Why are you asking me this-

Vanessa: Do you still like women?

Nancy: Do you?!

Vanessa: You have to answer my question first-

Nancy: Did you get my voicemail? November 2nd, 1993. I called you and I left you a voicemail. Did you hear it?

Vanessa: Nancy-

Nancy: Why didn’t you call me back? What—what happened to you, Vanessa? Where did you go? Where have you been!? Why, after all this time, am I just now seeing you?

Vanessa: It’s not really the easiest thing to talk about, but I know I owe you closure. [exhales] After I was pulled out of school, my father had me admitted. I received treatments to ‘fix’ me. Every time I fucked up and pissed off my father, he’d pack me up and ship me off until I came back normal and obedient.

Vanessa: There were days I thought I couldn’t keep going on like that, but then I heard your voicemail, and it... scared me. It made me angry. It broke my heart, but most importantly, it woke me up. I finally found the strength to escape my father and live my own truth. It cost me everything—my family disowned me. I relinquished my fortune, but in return, I’m free. I’m free, and I can live the life I deserve. I just... I wish I could have called, but life didn’t work out that way.

Nancy: It should have because I did call you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: I know.

Nancy: [weakly] I said that I loved you..

Vanessa: I know, I know...things were different for me back then.

Nancy: Things are different now! I’m married. I’m a mother!

Vanessa: I know, Nancy. I didn’t come here to break up a happy home.

Nancy: Why did you come here?

Vanessa: Can’t a girl miss her best friend?

Vanessa: Listen. I’ve thought a lot about how I would fit into your life if I ever got to see you again, if this was something you would want at all. That time we shared in our youth was the happiest I’ve ever been. I missed that feeling. I’ve missed you. I’m in a place to explore a friendship with you again, if you want it. If not, then I’ll accept that.

Nancy: I do want this. I want you here. I just...I can’t...

Vanessa: I know. It could be simple. Easy. I miss you, Nancy.

Nancy: [sighs] I miss you too. I’ve missed you so much.

[savanir]

so I got Steve Trevor;

From one highly stressful situation to the next it seems, Steve really wishes his gun didn’t get misplaced.

Especially considering he’s absolutely not where he was less than a minute ago, considering the endless void of… green.

Why is it always green…

“What the fuck” He’s keeping his stance ready for anything while trying to get his bearings at least somewhat, he seems to be surrounded by ruins, somewhat familiar looking ruins.

“You have experience with Pandora’s box, correct?” 

Steve quickly turns around and has his arms loose and ready, slightly up to either defend or attack.

In front of him is a floating… boy?

“Hello” the slightly glowing, black and white clad teen gives him a lazy little wave, cheeky sort. alright then.

“Where the hell am I?”

"Good guess but that's a little more to the left from here"

"What?"

The teen’s expression shifts to something more serious, "Listen, the box got stolen and I need someone with knowledge about the damn thing that can also inconspicuously come with me and isn't bound by dumb ancient rules to help me out with getting it back where it belongs. You came recommended by Pandora so..."

“Are you serious- wait, Pandora as in the Pandora?”

"Yes, Lady Pandora, keeper of the box with the ancient evils or whatever. Of course she knows about you, like I said you have prior experience with dealing with this thing- you are Steven Trevor right? Consort to princess Diana of Themyscira?"

"Consort-" Alright okay so this is really happening, it’s spread to other dimensions now or something? he rubs the bridge of his nose, he could use a good stiff drink to handle this revelation.

"Partner, boyfriend, whatever, listen we need to stay focused here" the teen claps his hands, it actually does effectively grab Steve’s attention back.

"Right, yes that's me. I'm, fuck you're telling me that fucking thing-?"

"Yes, and I could really use a hand here with solving this mess please. Oh uhm, Danny Phantom, nice to meet you.” Danny holds his hand out and Steve gives him a handshake. so the kid knows about the basic typical earth greeting. good to know.

“Now, we got no time to lose, I'll be sure to put you right back where I found you once we're done so no worries"

Well Steve doesn't really want that cause he was in the process of getting kidnapped when he got dragged through a swirling green portal. sadly his attackers confiscated his gun so he’s currently very unarmed but he’d take it if it means he’s not at risk of getting tortured for Justice League intel and used as bait to lure the heroes in. 

"Just drop me off in Washington DC. I'd prefer that"

"Whatever you want bud" Danny grins and leads him towards a different portal in the distance.

Steve figures it’s in his best interest to go along with everything for now but once his comms stop being dead he’ll notify the Justice League immediately. Still though, something in his gut tells him that this kid isn’t bad news. 

He has this weird feeling that Diana would like him.

Use this random DC character wheel to write a dpxdc prompt, fanfic, or blurb below! (Or just say what ya got ehehe)

[tswkento]

a.n.: hello!! i hope you enjoy reading this, this is pure fluff. ive been working on this for a few days so please be a darling and give it a chance!! thank you <33

c.w.: 3787 wc, fluff fluff fluff, lil bit of angst, hurt/comfort, whipped nanami ffs.

sum.: after years of excruciating yearning and pining, nanami can recall distant memories of the moments he thought he loved you and the exact moment he voiced his feelings, or—

4 times nanami thinks that he loves you and 1 time he says it out loud.

i.

nanami takes another sip from his drink as his eyes roam around the room, barely stopping on the faces of the people. they only ever paused when you came into the view; with your very cute, slightly tipsy smile and shining gaze, that got brighter whenever you caught him looking at you.

or maybe he was imagining things. after all, he’s been drinking too.

as he patiently waited for you to receive your present from under the big tree in gojo’s living room, nanami couldn’t help the anticipation bubbling in his chest while the other’s opened their gifts.

the game of secret santa was a nice idea and it was always a pleasant feeling — seeing someone’s joy over a simple present, no matter how well-thought or effortless it was. and it so happened that on the day yuuji and nobara came up with the suggestion, offering nanami a handful of small papers, he picked out the card with your name scribbled on it.

and although very much enjoyable — the satisfaction he felt at the moment was fairly easy to hide from the kids. he had an opportunity to give you something meaningful and no one would be weird about it since it was secret santa.

“oh? it’s from nanami!” you beam at him after you check the little card that was carefully attached to the ribbon. nanami nods down at you as he leans against the armrest of the couch where the kids are settled.

you eye the wrapped box in your hands with a curious glint and shake it a little, bringing it to your ears as you try to take a guess at what it is. nanami bites down a splitting smile, covering his mouth with the glass in his hand as he watches you tear off the wrapping paper, managing to slap away satoru’s impatient hands that volunteered to do it for you.

you open the medium, velvety box and gasp audibly, covering your mouth with your hand as you look up at nanami from your spot on the fluffy carpet. standing up abruptly, you look into the box again and stare at him with a petulant pout, the frown between your eyebrows calling for him to smooth out the crease of the skin with his finger.

“kento, i,” you take another look at the item inside the box and then back at him, “i can’t accept it, no way.”

nanami is acutely aware of the fact that everyone in the room is watching you two. he prays that the hot sensation he feels crawling up his neck isn’t showing itself as redness of any kind. but at the same time, he likes to imagine that there’s only two of you in the whole world right now and it turns his mind into a fucking mush.

he clears his throat and moves the glass away from his mouth to speak clearly,

“nonsense, it’s your rightful gift,” he puts down his drink with a prominent click and holds out his hand, “let me put it on you.”

your pout slowly dissolves into a timid smile as you put the box in his hand and step closer, hitting nanami with the barely noticeable wave of your sweet perfume. when he looks at you again and sees the way your eyes giddily follow the movements of his fingers, kento can’t stop the corners of his lips from slightly curling upwards.

at the contact with the supple skin of your wrist, his fingertips twitch — electricity running through them, up his arm and straight to his heart, the impulses quickening its pace. nanami breathes in through his nose slowly as he closes the clasp of the watch on the inside of your wrist.

“must’ve cost you a fortune.” you mumble with a dreamy sigh, glancing up at him only to find him already staring at you.

he pats your wrist with finality and lets you admire the accessory on your own, engraving the sight of your enticed expression into his mind. it takes him a second to realise that he has to say something and the alcohol that has worked its way up his brain makes him let out an unfiltered thought,

“worth it.”

your head snaps up at him and you beam at him before your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly with a string of thank you’s falling from your pretty lips. kento hugs you close with one hand, willing to ignore the knowing looks the both of you are receiving from everyone in the room, and thinks that he loves you.

ii.

nanami partially expects to see you when he enters the archive room.

you’re already settled by one of the few desks, fingers tapping against the smooth surface of the table as you read the paper whilst periodically checking on the screen of your laptop. the movements in the background seem to disturb your peace as much as kento tries to be silent, and you lock eyes with him, giving him a cute little wave and a bright beam that causes his brain to become empty.

when you notice the stack of papers in his hands, your smile turns sympathetic and you determinedly step from behind your desk, telling him that you’ll make him some coffee too. kento nods in gratitude and forces himself not to follow your temporarily exiting figure so he can stop thinking about how pretty your uniform looks on you and how much he’d like to spend time with you alone aside from the countless of times he’s caught you in this fucking archive room.

it’s a comfortable, quiet spot for anyone to deal with never-ending paperwork so it’s quite common for him to meet you here. probably one of the few reasons why he prefers this room — kento can always just get lost in random conversations with you and ignore the fact that he’d rather stay with you here than go to his empty apartment.

the tea you bring him is always something new. “i like to try new things” you beamed at him when he inquired about your little hobby, and then your face scrunched with disgust at the taste of your newly bought tea. at his eloquently raised brow you only rolled your pretty eyes and stood up to go make something different, at which point he couldn’t help his fond smile.

this time, situation seems to be a lot more dire because you bring two cups of freshly brewed black coffee with two cubes of sugar on the cups’ saucers. he’s already noticed that the reports you are observing are not yours and at his question you explain that gojo’s reports on his students’ missions are always an unorganised mess left for you to clean up.

kento doesn’t hide the disdain spreading over his features and focuses on his own papers. and at first, he doesn’t even notice how quiet you’ve gotten — by the time he finishes his work there is no sound of your pen clicking on the surface of your desk, none of the soft tapping of your fingers over the keyboard and the silence isn’t filled with your occasional hums or sighs.

oh, he lets out when he notices your form slumped on your table, head settled on your forearm with your posture situated awkwardly. that must be very uncomfortable, nanami thinks to himself before he stands up, pointedly ignoring the popping sounds of his own spine and knees, and strides over to you. one part of him really doesn’t want to disturb you, not when you look fucking angelic: cheek smushed against your forearm, lips jutted out in a pouty way and a tiny trail of drool escaping your mouth.

he wonders if you look like this when you’re sleeping on your bed too. maybe even more peaceful than this, with your head untied and your clothes more fitting for a good night’s sleep. kento wonders if he will ever be able to witness that dreamy sight.

he can’t resist the urge to touch your face; his fingertips hover above your cheekbones before sliding over the silky smooth skin, revelling in the suppleness of it before moving a lone strand of hair away from it. you’re so beautiful, nanami thinks, the prettiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

and when you stir awake he doesn’t even process it at first, just stares down at you dumbly for a second before stepping away and clearing his throat because fucking hell, he’s in love. and you don’t even understand what’s going on. you crack your neck and groan in discomfort all while he stares down at you, all of his attempts at saying something failing miserably. you catch his figure being close and ask him if you were out for long, the slight hoarseness of your voice enchanting him completely.

and then his plans of sleeping early tonight get thrown out of the window because his mouth opens before his brain comprehends his thoughts,

“do you need help with these?” he can’t stand the thought of you working on this stuff for longer than necessary and going home so late at night.

you give him a reluctant glance and do the same with the papers in front of you before nodding meekly and moving your chair to the side so he can fit another one for himself. nanami thinks it’s a win/win situation: you get to go home early and he gets to spend a little more time with you. and it doesn’t matter that he’s going to wake up groggy and with his back hurting like a bitch, it really doesn’t. not as long as you are fine.

iii.

annual gathering of all the existing clans and sorcerers was something nanami liked to avoid as many times as he could since he found them to be just another pompous event filled with meaningless chatter and old traditions. for him, at least. most of the time he had missions so he was dismissed, but this year he was free and basically forced by director yaga to attend.

he exits the main building, fishing a cigarette out of the inner pocket of his yukata as his eyes search for a secluded spot in the garden.

his steps come to a halt when his eye catches onto your blurry figure, entering through the gates. his hand with the cigarette stick between his thumb and index finger hover over his mouth as nanami watches you stepping closer and closer to him.

the distance between you two allows him to observe you for longer; the way your hair moves with every step you take, your own yukata that makes you look ethereal with the way its colours fit so well, the slightly vacant expression on your face before you notice him too and beam at him. kento’s lips curl into a small smile as he decides to meet you in the middle.

“thought you couldn’t make it tonight.” he mutters softly, noting how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

something happened, nanami can tell that, however he has no idea what. you fall into an easy pace along with him, locking your arms behind yourself as you timidly glance at him. nanami can’t really decipher that look so he chooses to continue leading you both somewhere private. the cigarette stays in his hand, saved for later.

“yeah, i had a thing.”

“a thing?”

“well…”

kento points at the small gazebo hidden behind the main building to which you nod silently, and when you both settle on the bench inside of it, he notices on your face how you’re pondering something very seriously. so he tries to be as gentle as possible when he says,

“is everything okay?”

you stay silent for a few seconds and just as you open your mouth to speak, nanami realises that he might just be unintentionally forcing you to speak.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he suggests, leaning down a bit to see more of your face.

your profile is beautiful. in the twilight of the night, despite the fact that his vision gets worse when it’s getting dark, nanami can always clearly distinguish your luminous eyes, your beautifully shaped nose and your pretty, rosy lips. all of your features have been engraved into his mind ever since he’s found himself staring at you with adoration bubbling in his chest and warmth spreading all over it.

you turn your head slowly, the weight of your thoughts etched into your expression. you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out and you close it, choosing to remain quiet. nanami’s concern must show on his face because you only bury your face in his shoulder, inhaling sharply before leaning your temple against the smooth surface of his yukata.

feeling your body relying on him feels a lot better than he thought it would. the weight of your head against his shoulder was soothing, a silent gesture of trust and comfort you felt from him.

kento gazes down at you and in a moment of tenderness rests his open palm on his thigh, a discreet motion that offers support, the one that you clearly desire right now. it shows in the way your hand hovers over his, hesitant but eager, and nanami makes an effort of gently catching it and placing it on his thigh. his thumb doesn’t stop rubbing circles over your skin until he feels you completely relax against him, not quite sleeping, yet not aware of your surroundings either. in your head, in your own world.

and while nanami basks in the warmth that radiates from your body, enveloping him from the side, he can only think about how much he loves you and how nice it feels to be trusted by you.

iv.

nanami wonders if he’ll be brave enough to tell you how he feels.

to understand that there is so much love inside of him is to also realise that there is no outlet for that love, and it’s depressing to say the least.

his days are filled with meaningless missions that could only be described as temporary solutions to a permanent problem that is etched into this world, but he can’t just not do it. he can’t do nothing, he’ll never forgive himself if he stoops to something like that again. nanami must remind himself that this is his duty and what he’s been born to do, and by the time he’s done with his affirmations the curse is already dissipating into the chilly air of the night and he’s going home.

would you reciprocate his feelings? would you give him a chance to put his everything into making you the happiest person alive instead of constantly thinking about preserving something that is already damaged — the system that everyone’s living in?

would you let him be selfish and share with him everything that makes you ‘you’? your mind, your soul, your body, your presence, your emotions, your everything. nanami knows he’d give you anything you’d ask him. even if it’s his heart, even if it’s already completely devoted to you — if you ask to have it in flesh he’d rip it out of his chest and present it to you like the finest things in the world because you deserve it.

he doesn’t remember the day his heart started reacting differently to your smiles and your laughter. the transition of his feelings from ‘friendly’ to ‘completely enamoured’ was so rapid yet so fluid, something he didn’t realise until he felt the full extent of it. when his brain melted at the sight of your radiant smile, and when the slightest bit of physical contact with you sent small electric tingles through his body, and also when the desire to be in close proximity with you clouded his mind whenever you were in the room.

kento yearns to be close to you; he wants it so much his fingers twitch with longing to hold and need to feel. he wants, wants and wants, but he does it quietly and you know nothing. it’s crazy how he feels so fucking much even though he is nearly thirty and it’s no time for this kind of thing in the hectic lifestyle he chose to have, yet he can’t stop himself from craving it — your love.

it’s also crazy that these thoughts occupy his head as soon as he sees you. hears you. feels you.

“kento?” you’d call out to him sweetly, waving your hand in front of his face, disturbing him from remembering the minuscule details of your face and your microexpressions. “are you even listening to me?”

“always.” he’d say without thinking because it’s true.

you’d eye him sceptically for a second or two before giving him a pleased smile and leaning in to continue your storytelling, compelled by his lovesick gaze and completely ignorant to his hands itching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. fuck, if this is hell.

he loves you, he loves you, he fucking loves you—

v.

“have you ever been in love?” you ask him casually as you pace around his kitchen idly while he washes the remnants of the dirty dishes.

it’s a peaceful night after a great evening spent with itadori and you, but itadori’s gone now and you stayed to help him clean up. though, naturally, nanami shooed you away with your every attempt at touching anything, telling you that your company is enough. you pouted at his nonchalant stubbornness, but didn’t try to resist.

nanami wipes the drops of water from around the sink and washes his hands carefully before he turns to face you, “have you?”

it’s a feeble attempt at moving the attention away from himself and onto you, yet it works and nanami can let himself exhale shakily when your gaze leaves him while you contemplate your answer.

“i feel like i am in love.”

nanami’s fingers close on the edge of the counter he’s been leaning against, eyes studying your dreamy expression whilst you idly gazed at the view from the window.

“he makes me feel very special.”

you glance at him for a second before stepping around the counter to stand by his side. nanami follows your movements carefully, mahogany eyes never leaving you as he tries to ignore the way his mouth dries at the mention of ‘he’. he does his best not to jump into conclusions and chooses to listen more.

“he does?” he croaks out pitifully, eager to hear more. his brain is frying.

you tilt your head up, fluttering lashes partially obscuring the sight of your piercing eyes. nanami feels his chest tighten painfully before he releases a semi-steady puff of air, waiting for you to continue.

“he is so gentle with me. treats me like i’m made of porcelain, treats me like i’m the only one.”

you are, nanami wants to say, but he can’t seem to form a logical sentence — not when your pinkie is grazing his hand on the counter and your lips soften into something serene, something content.

his brain seems to be catching up to his actions a little later than usual because before he knows it, nanami is allowing himself to occupy your space as he rounds you into the counter, letting his hand cage you. he knows his face gives it away; the longing he feels, the overwhelming need he feels to be yours and for you to be his, to give away the thing you rightfully own — his heart. but he has to wait.

“do you think that means something?” kento whispers tentatively, scared to push you away.

the corners of your lips twitch as your hand settles on his forearm softly, stroking up and down over the length of it whilst you watch him carefully. you don’t even know how much power you have over him right now and it drives him wild because he is hungry for everything you can give him. even the slightest touch makes him lose his mind and this— this is almost too much for one night.

“i don’t know.” you shrug, “does it mean something?”

“yes, it–” his trembling hand leaves the counter in favour of settling on the side of your face, fingers nimbly pushing back messy strands of hair away from your beautiful face. nanami exhales shakily before continuing, “it means a lot.”

“nana–”

“i love you.”

and then he kisses you.

he wants to fucking punch himself into face because there is no consideration of whether you’d be comfortable with him kissing you or anything else, it’s pure insanity that operates his brain and it leaves him 3 seconds later when he freezes and pulls away only to be pulled back by your soft hands on the sides of his face.

his arms wrap around your figure, embracing you in a manner that is more touch starved rather than romantic: with your body flush against his and his hands spread over the eloquent expanse of your back, his feet caging yours inside and his fingers twitching like crazy. nanami breathes in through his nose and focuses on your touch to stop himself from completely shutting off, finding the sensation of your fingers carding through his undercut and gently cradling his jaw to be very soothing.

soothing, warm, gentle, loving — just like he imagined it would be.

the softness of your lips is heavenly against his, the sweet taste of your mouth is even stronger as it fogs his brain and clouds his gaze, filling it with desire for more. nanami feels the restraints he put around himself coming loose with the hesitant swipe of your tongue over his bottom lip that prompts him to gently push into your mouth with his own eliciting a strangled moan from you. fucking hell— he has to control himself.

kento pulls away and his eyes are frantic in the way they scan you; noting the heat emitting from your skin, the shallowness of your breaths, how your chest heaves up and down and how your lips part ever so invitingly, luring him in. the thought of never experiencing this with you makes his skin crawl so he focuses completely on this moment, this second.

“why’d you– why’d you stop, kento?” you whisper into the space between you too, gliding your thumb over his cheekbone.

and you look so pretty. absolutely stunning, donning a sweet, worried expression that only spurs him on, adding fuel into his endless desire to tell you about how much he loves you. so he does, sealing every one of his confessions with a passionate kiss.

“i love you.”

[loveesiren]

Help Me (Pt. 3)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

Synopsis: Rafe and Y/n finally seal the deal ;)

Warnings: Smut, language, stitches?

Word Count: 2.6k+

You'd been staying with the Camerons for three weeks now. When Ward and Rose came home from their trip you were extremely nervous. A beat up Pogue in their house was surely not something they'd want.

But you were wrong. They were nothing but welcoming to you. Sarah had explained to them what happened. Rafe followed you around like a lost puppy. Even Wheezie ended up loving you, coming to you to gossip about boys and school.

Rafe was clean and his parents could see it. Having you around really improved his behavior. You were respectful and kind and even stayed home with Wheezie when they had events to attend. Rose even offered you a job as her assistant when you were feeling better.

They'd even let John B and JJ come by. John B already worked for Ward. JJ was still skeptical of you and Rafe but he was still on his best behavior when he came over.

Rafe slept with you most nights, wanting to make sure he was there incase you needed anything. He was always so gentle and cautious not to hurt you while you healed. Your bruising had mostly subsided. You were finally starting to look like yourself again.

--

"You ready?" Rafe asked as you finished applying mascara to your lashes.

"Fuck yes." You said. "I can't wait to get these things out of me."

Today was the day you were having your stitches removed. You couldn't be more excited to heal and go back to your old self.

"We can stop and see JJ after," Rafe said as he took your hand and lead you downstairs.

"Are you excited?!" Wheezie asked as you walked into the kitchen.

"To stop looking like the bride of Frankenstein? Absolutely." You responded with a smile.

"Think you'll be ready to work?" Rose asks with a smile.

"Definitely! I'm sick of laying around doing nothing."

"Glad to hear it!"

"Okay, we gotta go or you're going to miss your appointment." Rafe scolded, knowing full well you will get sucked into a conversation with Wheezie and Rose.

You waved goodbye as Rafe dragged you out the door and helped you in to his truck.

"I can do it myself, you know," You say as he picks you up and places you into the passenger seat.

"Nope. Not going to risk you getting hurt again." He says before placing a kiss on your cheek and shutting the door.

You smile at the gesture. He was so protective over you. Normally this would annoy you but everything Rafe does makes you feel so happy and safe.

He climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.

"You ready to go, pretty girl?" He smiles over to you.

"I'll be pretty in an hour when these things are out of my face." You say, tracing over your stitches as you look in the mirror.

"You're pretty always. No matter what."

_____________

Rafe held your hand as the doctor slowly pulled each stitch out of your skin. You winced at the pain but it was no where near as bad as it was three weeks ago.

"You're doing good, baby." He said, playing with your hair behind your back.

"Really glad I was passed out when Ricky put them in," You chuckle.

Rafe tries to smile but the thought of that night still tugs at his heart. He'd barely left you alone since. If you weren't with him, he made sure you were with JJ. The few nights you'd spent at the Chateau with your brother and friends, he stayed up all night pacing. He'd text you and you would respond. He swallowed the urge to not over do it though. The last thing he'd want is to push you away.

"And done!" The doctor announces.

You stand up and go to the mirror. Your fingers trace over the scars left on your face and collar bone. You smile sadly. You were so happy the stitches were out but you knew you'd have these scares forever.

"Beautiful," Rafe says as he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. "Absolutely beautiful."

His words make you blush. The fact Rafe has seen you at your absolute worst and still worships the ground you walk on was all you needed.

"Come on," You say, dragging him out of the doctors office. "JJ is waiting."

Rafe's fingers are laced with yours the whole ride to the Chateau. He always got nervous being around the Pogues. Even though his own sister was one of them. It wasn't that he was scared of them. He just cared so much about you and he wanted your brother to accept him. Had he known JJ Maybank's sister would be the love of his life, he would have been a lot nicer to him before.

You pull up to John B's house. Rafe quickly jumps out and comes around to help you out.

The Pogues watch from the porch. JJ runs out to greet you.

"Hey, sis!" He says, wrapping you into a tight hug.

"Hey, J! How are you?"

"Good! Went fishing this morning. Grillin' em up now if you guys are hungry." JJ says. His eyes flicker to Rafe's.

Rafe stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. You turn to look at him. "You hungry, babe?"

His eyes shot up at you. You had never called him any pet name before. "Uhm, yeah, I could eat." He said.

JJ offered him a small smile. You skipped ahead to go say hi to everyone.

"How's she doing?" JJ asked as he trailed behind with Rafe.

"She's doing really well." Rafe answered. "Wheezie really loves her. So do my parents. Rose offered her a job."

JJ laughs. "Yeah, she seems happy. She's really happy with you."

"I try to make her happy," Rafe says as he watches you laugh with your friends. "I love her," He confesses.

JJ bites his lip and nods. Still not fully comfortable with the situation.

"Does she know?"

"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But I'll tell her."

"Look man," JJ starts. "We've had our issues. A lot of fucking issues. But my sister is all I have left. You make her happier than I've ever seen her. I don't want to ruin that for her. I'm willing to set shit aside in order to make her happy."

Rafe smiled, looking down at his feet before looking back at JJ. "I am too." He says, offering his hand to JJ.

JJ offers a small smile and shakes his hand. "Come eat, man!" He says as he hops over to the grill.

Rafe sits down on the couch and pulls you into his arms for a hug. You cling to him as he rocks you back and forth.

Sarah smiles at the two of you. She'd never seen her brother so happy and she was excited to finally see him clean and doing well.

______________________

After you ate you all made your way to the dock. John B and JJ were doing backflips off the boat. Pope, Sarah, and Kie all sat around drinking beer, laughing at the boys. You and Rafe sat on the dock, letting your feet trail in the water below.

The sunset was beautiful. Fading into a variety of warm colors. Rafe was glowing with the way the evening light kissed his tan skin.

You couldn't deny you'd been crushing on Rafe since the night you met him. The way he mumbled about how pretty you were when you helped his drunk ass off the beach. "Are you an angel?" He asked you multiple times as he clung to you.

Now you were living at his house, attached at the hip. Everything felt effortless with Rafe. You were just happy all the time. Watching movies with him and Wheezie, cooking dinner together, laying in bed talking. There was never a dull moment.

"Y/N?" Rafe's voice brought you back to the present moment.

"Yeah?" You ask, looking over at him. His messy hair blew slightly in the wind.

"Uhm...I just wanted to ask you..." He began, chewing on his nails.

"Ask me what, Rafey?"

"A-are we like...like...w-what are we?"

You smile at him and furrow your brows. "I don't know, Rafe. What are we?"

He chuckled awkwardly. "I mean, uhh...I'd like...I mean-"

You couldn't help but laugh as he tripped over his words.

"I'd like if you were my girlfriend," He finally admitted.

The rest of the Pogues were now listening in on your conversation.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back as he smiles at the gesture.

"Does that answer your question?" You whisper as you pull away slightly.

He just nods and smiles and kisses you again. You can hear Sarah and Kiara cheering from behind you.

"Really? Can you not mack on my sister right in front of me?" JJ scolds jokingly.

Rafe puts his hands up in surrender and pulls away from you. You just laugh and flip JJ off.

"You wanna go home and seal the deal?" You ask, biting your lip.

Rafe's eyes widen and he immediately jumps to his feet. "We're heading home!" He announces, helping you up.

"Oh, yuck!" Sarah scoffs, knowing exactly what caused his sudden excitement.

"You need a ride, Sarah?" Rafe asked, keeping his focus on you.

"Are you kidding? We share a wall, Rafe. I'm staying here tonight."

"Oh my God." JJ groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Love you, J!" You say as you pull Rafe towards the truck.

"Yup. Love you too!" JJ says as he shakes the thought of you and Rafe together from his mind. John B, Pope, and Kie just laugh at how uncomfortable Sarah and JJ are.

Rafe opens the passenger door for you and helps you in before running and jumping into the driver's seat. You giggle at his eagerness.

Rafe keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive back to Tanneyhill. Slowly inching closer to your pussy as his fingers explore your skin.

You could already feel yourself dripping with need. When you pulled into Tanneyhill you didn't even wait for Rafe to open the door for you. You practically fell out of the truck and ran to meet him. Lips connecting with his instantly.

"I'm supposed to help you out," He pants against your neck, placing kisses on your skin.

"Help me up," You demand.

Rafe smiles and grabs your ass as you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. He moans into the kiss as he stumbles to the house, sloppily opening the door and slamming you into the wall of the foyer.

"Rafe-"

You both freeze, lips still locked on his as you both open your eyes. Rafe slowly releases you to the floor.

"Hey dad," Rafe says as the two of you round the corner to see Ward, Rose, and Wheezie having dinner.

The two of you stood there, looking guilty with your messy hair and red cheeks. You awkwardly pulled the strap of your tank top back onto your shoulder.

Ward and Rose look at you knowingly and Wheezie just scoffs.

"Would the two of you like some dinner?" Rose asks.

"Uhm, we ate at John B's." You state. "JJ went fishing."

"Yeah, uhm..." Rafe begins. "And we both have to be up early for work tomorrow. Right dad? Rose?"

You nod in agreement. As the two of you slowly back away towards the stairs.

"So we're just gonna get to bed!"

Rose and Ward chuckle at your awkwardness.

"Ew," Wheezie spits. "Just go already!"

And with that, you and Rafe practically race upstairs to his bedroom.

"Subtle," Rose laughs as she sips her wine.

"I'm so over teenagers," Ward chuckles.

--

As soon as Rafe pulls you into his room he slams the door behind you and pushes you up against it, kissing you with force.

You tug at the buttons on his shirt, surely ripping a few as you shove the fabric from his shoulders.

He grabs the hem of your shirt and brings it up over your head before biting at your neck hungrily. "Is this okay?" He asked between nips.

"I'm healed, Rafe. Don't be gentle." You tell him.

He kisses his way down your body until he reaches your jeans. He's quick to undo the buttons and pull them to the floor along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed to him.

You bite your lip as his eyes flicker up to yours. "You're fucking dripping, baby girl." He smiles.

He brings one of your legs over his shoulder, your back still pressed to the wall as he slides his tongue over the length of your pussy.

"Oh, fuck!" You pant, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He slides his middle finger inside you as his tongue dances around your clit.

You could feel yourself coming undone at the sensation.

He slides a second finger into you and you almost collapse but he brings his hand up to your ass to keep you balanced.

"Rafe, oh my God-"

He pulls your other leg up over his shoulder. Rafe and the wall are the only things keeping you upright now.

"Cum for me, baby girl." He says between your legs.

You could hardly contain yourself as you reached your high. His hands wrapped around your thighs as you vibrated against him.

"Fuck, Rafe!" You screamed, not caring who heard. "Oh my fucking God!"

Rafe smiled as he licked you clean. He let your legs slide off his shoulders as you relaxed.

"That's my girl," He praises as he comes up to place a kiss on your lips.

You give him the devil's grin as you fall to your knees in front of him. "Let me make you feel good, baby." You tell him as you fiddle with his zipper. When you finally free his cock from it's restraints you bite your lip and meet his gaze. "Big boy," You say before running the tip of your tongue against his length.

"Fuuuuuck," He moans.

You smile before wrapping your lips around his cock and slowly sinking him into your throat.

"Jesus Christ, baby," He gasps as he watches you swallow every inch of him.

You could feel his knees weaken as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You pulled back, drool still connecting your lips to him as you looked him in the eyes. His face was priceless, absolutely stunned at your talent.

You smirked before spitting on his dick and getting back to work.

You felt his fingers tangle through your hair, pushing his cock deeper into your throat and you accepted him.

"I'm gonna fucking cum," He panted.

You let him take control, fucking himself into your throat as you gagged on his cock. He thrusted deep into your face as he released himself. You could feel the warm liquid trickle down your throat before he pulled out.

You looked up to him and smiled as you swallowed. Mascara was running down your cheeks and cum dripping from your chin.

"Pretty girl," He smiled down at you, still clutching your hair. "Get on the bed."

You did as you were told. Rafe climbed on top of you and pressed his hand against your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin as he bit his lip. "Can I make love to you, sweetheart?"

You beamed at him, loving how sweet he was to you. "Mhmm, please." You nodded.

He lined himself up at your entrance and pushed into you slowly.

You moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He pushed your knees up before snaking his arms behind your back. You clung to him as he thrusted into you slowly.

"Beautiful, perfect angel," He whispered into your ear. Your nails dug into his shoulder as he continued to press into you.

The feeling of his cock sliding against your walls was euphoric.

"Mine," He moaned. And with that you could feel yourself come undone.

"All yours," You told him as you reached your climax. He held you tight as you vibrated against him, bringing him to his own orgasm. You sucked on his neck as you felt him fill you.

"You're a God." He whispered, resting his head on your chest.

"Let me take you higher," You hissed as you rolled over and straddled him. "I'll show you God."

[kaynanarie]

Eyes of Gold (Part 2)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (Part 1)

            While staying in a cave did offered protection, the same could not be said for a good night’s sleep. You tossed and turned on the stone floor, kept awake by the noises of the forest and the constant itching of your skin. When dawn broke, you were still tired but happy to have survived your first night on the mountain.

            With the morning light came your new monkey friend, Shihou. He appeared at the cave entrance carrying various fruits for breakfast.

            “Good morning!” he greeted, tail swaying cheerfully despite the early hour. You grumbled in reply, picking out a peach to munch on. Shihou grabbed a fruit for himself and sat by your knee. “So, I spoke with the King about you.”

            Anxiety woke you like a cold plunge, your appetite suddenly gone. “He’s not going to kill and eat me, is he?” you asked cautiously.

            “Eat you?!” Shihou burst into high pitched, chittering laughter. “Of course not! On the contrary, he officially welcomes you as his honored guest. The King also gave me some good news about your so-called ‘curse’.”

            It was the first positive thing you had heard relating to the Monkey King. “What did he say? Does he know a cure?”

            “Well, you see…” When Shihou held out his paw, you could see a similar rash across his palm. Knowing he now shared your affliction filled your heart with guilt and shame.

            “I’m so sorry!” you cried, backing away. “I didn’t think it was contagious.”

            Shihou waved his hands, trying to calm you down. “It’s okay, I’m fine. You’re not contagious. This is where I grabbed your sleeve yesterday,” he said, pointing to your robes. “It’s not a disease; it’s poison ivy. Someone must have ground up some dried leaves and put the powder in your clothes. That’s what’s causing your rash.”

            You tugged at your robes curiously, noticing that everywhere they touched was where the rash had spread. Instantly, you knew who was responsible. “This seems like something my sister would pull.”

            “Perhaps,” Shihou shrugged. “But it’s nothing that can’t be cured. Hurry up and eat, I have something to show you.”

            With a flick of his tail, the monkey scampered out of the cave. You quickly finished your breakfast and stepped outside, finding Shihou waiting in one of the trees. Seeing you, he leapt to another branch, waving for you to follow. “Come on, peach friend! You’re wasting the sun’s time!”

            “Peach friend?” you asked with a giggle, keeping pace with his swings and jumps.

            “Yep! You shared a peach with me so now we’re peach friends!”

            As you walked, the distant sound of rushing water grew louder until the forest gave way. Beyond the trees, a waterfall tumbled from the peak of the mountain, cascading into a crystal blue river below. All the surrounding trees were green and laden with colorful flowers and fruits despite the wintery season back in the village.

            “Over here, peach friend!” Shihou called from the riverbank. Next to him was a folded bundle of clothes and plants organized into piles. “These herbs should help with your rash. If you bathe and wash your robes out, you’ll be healed in no time.”

             “You want me to wash here? In the river? Out in the open?” you asked, glancing around. “What if someone sees me?”

            Shihou just laughed. “You’re the only human on the mountain.”

            “What about demons? I don’t want them spying on me, either.”

            “Only Monkey King’s subjects come this close to the waterfall,” Shihou said. When he noticed you still weren’t convinced, he sighed and patted your knee in reassurance. “I’ll keep watch if you want but this place is pretty private.”

            You gave him a skeptical look. “And you aren’t going to peek?”

            He waved your concerns away with a scoff. “I’m going to be too busy making your medicine over here. Now hurry up, your rash will only get worse at this rate.”

            Shihou turned away and started mixing leafy fronds and purple flowers together before smashing them with a stone. With your given privacy, you shimmied out of your robes and slipped into the pool at the base of the waterfall.

            The water was cool but not cold, immediately soothing the itch and burn of your rash. You gently scrubbed your skin and rinsed away the dirt from your night in the woods. By the time you swam back to shore, you felt clean and refreshed.

            You found Shihou lounging on a tree branch above the water. His ears perked as you splashed closer but his eyes remained respectfully closed. “Rub the paste on your skin; it’ll stop the itch and speed up the healing process. There are some clean clothes over there as well.”

            The plants had been mashed into a green poultice and left waiting on a stone. You rubbed the medicine over the worst of your rash, already feeling the soothing tingle as it started to work. Once you and the paste were dry, you unfolded the waiting clothes and quickly dressed.

            “Where did you get these robes?” you asked, feeling the silky material under your curious hands. It was smooth and light as a breeze against your sensitive skin. Delicately embroidered clouds decorated the hem while ornate swirls flowed down the sleeves. Despite being from a noble family, you had never worn anything so extravagant before.

            One of Shihou’s golden eyes peeked open before he sat up, looking quite pleased to see you in his fancy clothes.

            “The King sent them,” he answered, a smug satisfaction in his cheeky smile. “Consider them a welcome gift.”

            The robes suddenly feel much heavier draped over you. “These are much too precious, I can’t except such royal clothes. They’ll be ruined in the forest.”

            “Don’t you know it’s rude to reject a King’s gift?” Shihou’s mood suddenly grew annoyed. The gold of his staring eyes seemed to faintly glow, a frown pulled at his lips, and his tail dangling from the tree swished in irritated lashes. “Besides,” he continued, gesturing to the pile of discarded clothing. “What else do you have to wear while your old robes still need washing?”

            It was strange to be chastised by a monkey but his logic was sound. Even if wearing gifted robes from the Monkey King himself seemed strange, you had few other options. Even worse, you had offended your new friend by insulting his King.

            “I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect,” you finally amended. “Would you be willing to pass on my thanks for your King’s generosity?”

            Shihou’s bristling softened at your acceptance. “You can thank him yourself. He’s invited you to stay at his palace in the mountain once you’ve healed up.”

            “His palace?!” you gasped, careful not to reject the offer as you fought down your growing alarm. “Why?”

            “You’re his honored guest, remember? I’ll lead you up the mountain myself once preparations are ready.” A sly smile lit up Shihou’s face. “Unless you’d rather stay in your cozy little cave down here?”

            Your answering grimace sent him into peals of howling laughter.

            “Fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms in defeat. “As long as the preparations don’t involve me being dinner.”

            He shook his head with a chuckle. “I swear, no one will put you on the menu no matter how tasty you look. I already promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I plan to keep my word.” Despite his teasing words, Shihou’s tone was surprisingly serious.

            “I trust you to keep me safe,” you said, grateful for whatever protection he could provide.

            “I’m honored to do so. Now that that’s settled!” Dropping from his perch, Shihou landed on your shoulder, throwing you off balanced as he clung to the fabric of your robe. On instinct, your hand reached up to steady him as you found your footing. His golden-brown fur was surprisingly soft, almost as silky as your new robe. Instead of shying away from your touch, he leaned into it, chirruping at your tentative pets. Once he was satisfied, Shihou shook himself to focus and pointed at the tampered clothes. “Laundry time. Let’s get rid of this poison ivy mess, peach friend!”

[dissapointu]

fluffy story with Jinx

———————————————————————-

Jinx had never been great with emotions. She loved big, laughed loud, and threw herself into everything she did with a reckless kind of abandon, but soft feelings? She didn’t really know how to handle those. That was, until you came along.

You weren’t like anyone she’d ever met before. Where most people treated her like a walking warning sign, you treated her like… Jinx. You didn’t flinch when she got too loud, didn’t turn away when she rambled about her inventions or her chaotic ideas. You actually listened.

It scared her at first, the way you looked at her like she mattered. But she liked it, even if it made her heart race in a way she wasn’t used to.

It was late at night in Zaun, and you were both sprawled out on the couch in her chaotic hideout. The glow of her neon lights bathed the room in a soft pink and blue haze as Jinx tinkered with a new gadget. You were curled up next to her, a blanket draped over your lap, watching her work.

“Okay, okay, check this out,” she said suddenly, sitting up and holding the contraption out in front of her.

“What is it this time?” you asked with a smile, leaning closer.

“It’s a surprise,” she said with a mischievous grin, pressing a button. The gadget whirred to life, spinning and popping confetti everywhere. “Ta-da! It’s a celebration machine! For you!”

“For me?” you asked, laughing as a small piece of confetti landed in your hair.

“Duh,” she said, brushing it away gently. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, so yeah, you get your own celebration machine. What’s the big deal?”

You felt your cheeks warm at her words. “Jinx… that’s so sweet.”

“Sweet? Nah, I’m just being honest,” she said, flopping back down beside you. “Besides, you deserve all the celebrations. You’re, like, the softest, most huggable person I’ve ever met. It’s awesome.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Soft and huggable, huh? That’s why you love me?”

“Well, duh,” she said, poking your side playfully. “I mean, there’s also the fact that you’re funny and smart and make me feel all… you know, warm and fuzzy inside. But mostly, you’re just you, and I like that a lot.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her straightforwardness. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” she said, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of something burning. Alarmed, you rushed to the small kitchen area of the hideout, where you found Jinx standing over a pan of what was supposed to be pancakes.

“Uh… morning!” she said, looking guilty as she tried to scrape the charred mess off the pan.

“Jinx, what are you doing?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“Making you breakfast, obviously,” she said, gesturing to the disaster in front of her. “It’s not going great, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

You walked over and gently took the spatula from her hand. “Why don’t we do this together?”

Her face lit up. “You mean I didn’t ruin it completely?”

“Not completely,” you teased, nudging her playfully.

The two of you worked together, and soon enough, you had a stack of somewhat lopsided but edible pancakes. Jinx insisted on decorating them with a generous amount of syrup and sprinkles, because, as she put it, “Everything’s better with sprinkles.”

As you sat down to eat, Jinx leaned her head on your shoulder, a rare moment of quiet contentment. “Thanks for putting up with me, you know? Not everyone gets me, but you do. And I don’t know… that means a lot.”

You smiled, reaching up to ruffle her blue hair. “You mean a lot to me too, Jinx. Chaos and all.”

Her grin widened, and she pressed a sticky kiss to your cheek, leaving behind a little bit of syrup.

Later that day, the two of you wandered through Zaun, Jinx proudly showing off all her favorite hidden spots. She loved watching your reactions — the way your eyes lit up when you saw something new, or the way you laughed at her over-the-top explanations.

“Okay, okay, last stop,” she said, dragging you to the edge of a tall building where you could see all of Zaun spread out below.

“Wow,” you said, taking in the view.

“Pretty great, huh?” she said, sitting down and patting the spot next to her.

You joined her, leaning against her shoulder as the two of you sat in comfortable silence.

“Hey,” she said after a while, her voice unusually soft. “You know you’re stuck with me, right? Like, forever?”

You smiled, taking her hand in yours. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Good,” she said, grinning. “Because I kinda think you’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re mine too, Jinx.”

[andreilscat]

"Do we really have to?" Kevin groaned.

He was practically pleading with Neil, who was crouching in front of him, tying first Kevin's, and then his own shoelaces.

Looking up from his fingers, Neil grinned at Kevin. "Of course not. You can always stay home and get your beauty sleep. Good luck on the court then though, because only sleep will not help with your stamina, princess."

Neil whined as Kevin flicked him hard on the forehead, saying, "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Sure, but only if you stop bitching around when we both know how mad you get when I go for a run without you."

Kevin rolled his eyes, as he moved to get their jackets, peeking into their room in passing.

"Is he still sleeping?" Neil asked as Kevin came back and handed him the jacket.

"Yeah, he'll probably stay like this until we get back back."

**************************************************

Andrew was aware of the coldness that surrounded him even before he opened his eyes. He stretched out his limbs and checked the time - it was still way too early in the morning which could only mean one thing, that his stupid boyfriends were out there, freezing their asses off running.

He shifted in bed, trying to curl into himself to get some warmth, when he noticed something. There, at the edge of the bed was a hoodie, the one Kevin had been wearing the previous night. Andrew didn't even think about it as he reached for the fabric, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. With the hood over his head, he settled under the covers once again, this time putting his head on Neil's pillow. His boyfriends' smell swallowed him whole and he felt his eyes grow heavy. Soon, everything around him grew dark.

**************************************************

"Oh my god go get me my camera," Kevin half whispered, half shouted at Neil, who was rustling with something in the kitchen.

"You don't have a fucking camera, Kev," Neil started, but froze in place the second he realized what they were looking at. "Well now I wish I had one."

There, on the bed, they could see Andrew in Kevin's hoodie, more drowning in it than actually wearing it, given that it was way too big on him. Only his face was visible, and the tips of his fingers which were holding onto Neil's pillow for dear life. He looked so peaceful. So -

"I'm going to buy a camera," Neil said as he turned on his hill and almost walked right into a wall.

"Are you fucking dumb?" Kevin muttered as he pulled Neil out of the room.

**************************************************

Andrew was awakened by the sound of his boyfriends who were bickering once again, over God knows what. His gaze followed the sound only to be met with the two of them walking out of the bathroom with nothing but towels over their hips. He could feel coldness starting to creep over his skin just by watching them.

"Put on some clothes," he said, from between the pillows.

That seemed to get their attention.

"Why? Not enjoying the view?" Neil winked as he walked over to the closet, tossing a pair of sweats to Kevin, and taking another ones for himself.

"I am not taking care of either of you if you get sick." Andrew said as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

As Kevin and Neil were getting dressed, they could feel Andrew's eyes on them.

"This temperature drop is really affecting you, huh?" Kevin said as he crawled onto the bed, sitting right next to Andrew and stretching his legs in front of him.

Andrew didn't respond, but instead leaned his head on Kevin's shoulder, closing his eyes once again.

This was new, Neil and Kevin exchanged looks and Neil cleared his throat before asking, "Do you want me to bring you breakfast here?"

"No," Andrew murmured, nuzzling his face into Kevin's shoulder.

"Is there something else you want, Drew?"

Andrew half opened one eye to stare at Neil, "Come here."

"Come where, Drew? You are on my side of the bed."

"Stop being difficult, Abram."

"Is it really okay though? You want to be in the middle?"

"Yes."

The mattress dipped under his weight as Neil sat next to Andrew, pulling the covers over all three of them.

After a moment of hesitation, Kevin spoke,

"Can we spoon?"

Silently, Andrew slid down, pulling his boyfriends with him.

He maneuvered them so that Kevin's back was to his chest, his own turned to Neil.

He took Neil's hands, bringing them over his stomach and letting him pull him in a tight embrace.

He started caressing Kevin's bare back, massaging it and making him sigh in agreement. Then, Kevin was reaching for Andrew's hands, holding them close to his face, and leaving small pecks on his fingertips. He intertwined their fingers together and held them close to his chest.

He knows that this is too much. He is aware that he cannot fall asleep like this, but for now, the only thing he can think about is how nice it is to be surrounded by their smell like this.

He could feel the heat spreading across his face and reaching his ears as Neil left a kiss on the back of his neck.

He closed his eyes and thought yes, he could get used to this.

[mymegrokosmos]

a little soft bf minghao brainrot bc i felt like it. super era shoulder injury hao.

you set your bags down on the counter, dropping your keys by the front door and going to put your things away. by the time you've shrugged out of your jacket, hung it up in the front closet and put your purse in its usual spot on the credenza table in the hallway you're ready to melt into the sofa but there's still more to do before you can relax.

when you get to the kitchen, halfway through tying your hair up out of your face, you find yourself smiling. the familiar sight of your boyfriend's back, clad in his usual leisure attire of grey sleeveless top that leaves just a hint of his shoulders visible, peeks out of the fridge. he's already started putting the groceries away before anything gets too warm. just when you think your fondness for him can’t melt your heart any more than it already has he leans back to look at you from around the door and his soft smile has your heart in shambles.

if it’s possible to become one with the floor you're doing it. you've become a puddle. his shaggy mullet is in disarray, fluffy from where he's run his hands through it, and his face is bare. his usually sharp eyes are framed by big round glasses, softening his gaze as he closes the fridge in favour of coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"hi darling, welcome home. how was your day?"

you'd think after all this time you'd be used to how tall he was but it was still always a bit of a surprise just how much he towered over you up close. you sighed, letting him pull you into a hug and sliding your arms around his slim waist.

"hi. it was okay, very long."

he chuckles and you close your eyes, head resting against his chest. you're careful to lay it against the side of his good shoulder, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his shirt as his hand comes up to rest against the back of your head.

"i'm glad to finally be home. what did you get up to today handsome?"

the hand on your waist squeezes lightly and he holds you close for a minute before stepping back with another kiss to the top of your head.

"physio this morning again and then practice, even though I can't do a lot of the choreo yet they still need me for blocking when I can make it. mingyu came by earlier and dropped off some hotpot. why don't you go get into something more comfortable and we can talk about it over dinner?"

sometimes there was nothing better than coming home to everything already being taken care of. you know he misses being at work but being home more means minghao needs things to do. his physiotherapist also says that getting some movement in is good for his progress, so he's been taking care of household chores and spending a lot more time meditating lately to keep himself busy.

the members have been helping when they can. mingyu comes by or gets your boyfriend out of the house at least three times a week now. jun's often over in his free time to run lines with hao or catch up on the latest cdrama you're watching together. you think joshua has even dragged him out to a pottery class or two in their spare time. it's been good for him and the rest is doing him good, even if it makes him a little bit restless sometimes.

you nod. "i'll be right back. do you need me to help with anything?"

"no, just relax and leave the day at the office jagiya."

easier said than done but minghao always made you feel less guilty about sticking by work life balance and keeping them mostly separate. it's also been fun spending more time cooking together, he's good in the kitchen just a little impatient and you're enjoying getting to try out some of his mother's recipes. she's often on video call when you get home, minghao pouting about something while she scolds him playfully or they catch up on their weeks with each other. it's sweet and you love that their relationship only seems to get stronger as time goes on.

"you're still coming to the company dinner next week with me, right?"

another soft smile as he nods. "I'll be there darling. I didn't pick us out matching outfits just to not show up. now stop worrying and go change. you're hovering again."

you are, just a little bit. it's a habit you're still trying to work your way out of. you were a little traumatized when you got the call that hao was in the hospital at first and, though you both know he's fine and capable now, the instinct to make sure he's okay still lingers a little bit.

you sigh and make a face at him. "okay, okay. I'm going."

he just chuckles as you head towards your shared bedroom. makeup and weight of the day finally removed it's time to slip into one of hao's oversized tshirts and the matching cotton pyjama pants he bought for you last christmas. it feels like a cozy day so you take the time to find your slippers too before shuffling back towards the kitchen.

you find minghao stirring a pot of what seems to be mingyu's latest attempt at comfort food and slip your arms around his waist from behind, face pressed lightly against his warm back.

"smells good."

he hums in agreement, hand patting yours where it rests on his stomach. "I think he made enough to feed about seven more people than we currently have in the apartment."

you laugh and lean around him to peek at the food over his arm. "gyu probably plans to use it as an excuse to come over for lunch tomorrow or something. oh no guess you need someone else to help you eat it all."

that makes your boyfriend scoff. "why would he do that when he can just say he wants to come over? he knows where we live."

you kiss his bicep and move to get down some bowls for you both. "because he's kim mingyu and you're you myungho."

your boyfriend stops to look at you, blinking as he pauses his stirring. "I'm still not seeing your point love."

"you know how you don't like when people get too presumptuous about you?" you smile softly. "I wouldn't say he's intimidated because gyu knows you love him but... sometimes he's a little insecure and sometimes you can be a little cold."

he considers this. "he's never let that stop him before."

you smile and let him guide you, one hand on your hip as you slide between him and the pot on the stove to fill your bowls.

"and he won't, I don't think, because at the end of the day he knows that it isn't that you don't like his affection you just don't always know what to do with it and it needs time to process. but I think, and maybe this is just my take, he sometimes worries a little about intruding too much. especially now that you have a relationship outside of just your family and the members and your other friends."

it's quiet for a minute as he takes that in. you dish up hot pot for both of you and take the bowls over to your small dining table. minghao slowly follows behind, face impassive. you'd worry that you upset him but you know that expression. it's not anger or annoyance, he's just lost in thought. you take his hand, press a kiss to the back of it, and watch as he blinks back into the present.

"think about it all you need but let's eat first. like I said, maybe I'm just reading too much into it. maybe he has other reasons. we can finish that new drama and call him later if you want."

your boyfriend nods and joins you at the table, filling you in on his day. you can tell he's only half present but that's okay. by the time you finish and wash up he seems to have come to a decision.

"love?"

"yes myungho?"

he scrunches his nose. "try again please darling."

you laugh but the arms he crosses over his chest tell you he's serious. you smile softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

"yes, seo myungho great love of my life and most wondrous of boyfriends?"

he snorts. "closer but still not correct."

"baobei?"

he blinks. "close enough."

you laugh and brush a hand over his cheek, melting a little when he leans into the touch and takes your hand in his.

"you know I'm only teasing you, right?"

he nods. "I do."

you lace your fingers and press a kiss to the back of his hand. "what did you want to say honey?"

"do you mind if mingyu comes over tomorrow? I know it's your day off."

"babe, this is your apartment too."

minghao sighs. you know that look. the exasperated 'are you being serious right now?' stare. you smile.

"no, I don't mind if gyu comes over. just maybe warn me beforehand so I can make sure I have pants and a bra on this time."

that makes him smile, just a little, even as he rolls his eyes at you.

"come help me with my skincare?"

"only if you let me use the good stuff."

"mm we can even wear those matching headbands you like."

"lead the way love."

sometimes all you need after a long day is xu minghao ready with a hot meal, a long hug and a silly fuzzy frog headband keeping the bangs out of his face as he applies 6 layers of different creams to your face.

[zaczenemiji]

Tabito Karasu Headcannons

where reader is a hyper-independent eldest daughter of an Asian household who also happens to be the student council president

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

These HCs are based on my 5-chapter-long Tabito Karasu x Reader on AO3. I highly recommend reading that too as it contains all the emotions, details, and the full story.

✧ "What can I say? I've got a talent for winning,” he says whenever someone asks how he scored the student council president.

✧ After training, he’d go back to school to fetch you whenever you stay behind to finish your student council duties.

✧ Always insists on helping you—he doesn’t stop at the polite offer or the half-hearted “Let me know if you need anything.”

✧ He simply did things for you, without question, without hesitation, and without making you feel like you owed him anything in return.

✧ Brings you food at the student council room whenever you’re so caught up in work that you didn’t notice it was well past lunch.

✧ Then he would sit across from you as if it were the most natural thing in the world to keep you company.

✧ The list goes on: Karasu helps you review for exams, reminding you to take breaks when you were clearly overworking yourself, or simply showing up when you least expected it.

✧ He would take on tasks you stubbornly refused to delegate, even if it meant showing up early or staying late himself.

✧ But he doesn’t try to take over or do things for you that you could handle yourself. He simply… supported you.

✧ Hates seeing you put everyone else’s needs above your own. And he hates how no one seemed to notice—how no one insisted you take care of yourself.

✧ Wants to be the one you relied on—the one you turned to when the world felt heavy.

✧ He cares for you in ways no one else ever had—quietly steps in when you needed it most, without taking away the independence you valued so deeply.

✧ Karasu always finds excuses to stay with you a little longer together.

✧ NEVER lets you walk home alone. He listens to you talk about your day as carries your bag without asking.

✧ 24/7 tells you you’re beautiful—all the time, followed by a kiss—on your forehead, cheeks, lips, anywhere his lips could touch you.

✧ Whenever he hugs you, he’d hold you tight as if to make the moment last forever.

✧ To say that your family loves him is an understatement. He quickly became a part of it in ways that surprised even you.

✧ He’d play soccer with your younger brother and would lift your little sister onto his shoulders and swing her around until she was giggling uncontrollably.

✧ Sometimes when your schedule gets hectic, he’d offer to be the one to fetch your younger siblings on your behalf and they would end up picking you up instead.

✧ Always brags about you in front of his family. So when you first came over to his house, you were referred to as the girl he can’t stop talking about.

✧ He’s definitely a girlfriend’s boy—“Sorry, I’ve got plans with my girlfriend,” he’d say, unapologetic to his friends, choosing to spend his free time with you.

✧ His possessiveness came out in subtle ways—a hand on your back, an arm slung over your shoulder, or fingers intertwined with yours. He wanted everyone to know you were his.

✧ “Let them stare,” he’d say, smirking.

✧ Loves you so much—you are everything to him.

✧ So if he loses at soccer, if he doesn’t become the greatest striker in the world���it’s fine. Because he has you.

✧ That was his real goal. You were his greatest win.

@mianbaobaoo @thetwinkims @arlecchinoftl @karasuglazer @axjisai @egoistlino

[teecupangel]

Hate to be that person crouding your asks but... you know the thing girls say to their boyfriends?

'would you still love me if i was a worm?' ...that but with Desmond actually turning in to one

As long as you don’t mind how long it takes me to answer asks or reply to you guys, cloud away XD

We have a Worm!Desmond idea before but the caveat for that one is that Worm!Desmond has the ability to actually turn into a big worm.

In this one, Desmond has no special power.

He’s absolutely just a normal worm.

But to give him a ‘helping hand’, we’ll make his life a bit easier by having a ‘fated meeting’ with his human ‘partner’ (there is no way in hell that Desmond would let anyone call them his master, even if he is, for all intent and purposes, absolutely the pet in this situation.

For Altaïr, he actually meets worm!Desmond while he was hiding to stop other people from seeing him cry over the death of his father. He takes Desmond in and actually hides him in their room, slowly building a habitat for him while he’s training. By the time Altaïr is an Assassin, Desmond already taken an entire wall for his ‘room’ and is living the best worm life XD

For Ezio, we’re going for a more angst-y version. He’s actually Petruccio’s pet that Petruccio was nurtured. When they were attacked, Desmond’s ‘home’ was destroyed and Ezio actually found him when he came back to get Giovanni’s robes. Desmond had been crawling towards him and Ezio almost stepped on him before taking him in.

For Ratonhnhaké:ton, we’ll spice things up and make him connected to Shay. Specifically, Shay and Liam are actually the ones taking care of him, giving him a home in the homestead. When Shay defected and killed Liam, Achilles didn’t have the heart to kill the worm and just gave it food and left it alone in the office. Ratonhnhaké:ton started taking care of him afterwards and would sometimes talk to him, mostly to complain about Achilles and to tell him what has happened in the homestead.

Edward, Arno and the Frye twins have similar setups.

For Edward, he already had a home in the captain’s quarters in the Jackdaw and Edward just continued to feed him. Desmond actually didn’t know Edward was a Kenway until much later. He just thought Edward was some pirate dude that didn’t mind feeding some random worm.

In Arno’s case, Desmond’s home is right next to the chest that held the cafe’s profit and Arno learned the tradition of leaving Desmond food whenever anyone put or took money from the chest. He would learn later on that the one who started that tradition was Bellec who saved Desmond from being used as fish bait. (Bellec was absolutely plastered when he announced that he was keeping Desmond as a pet and is too proud to go against his drunk self’s proclamation)

The Frye twins have no idea where Desmond came from. He was already in a very nice home (kinda like a repurposed aquarium) and no one felt the need to be a dick and kill him so he just eats and watches the drama unfolding between the Frye twins in the comforts of his home in the train the twins hijacked.

Kassandra’s of a similar ‘boat’. Desmond was already part of the Adrestia’s décor and no one really bothered to tell her if Desmond was meant to be there or not. Everyone just feeds him and keeps him safe in a little home inside.

Bayek, on the other hand, travels with Desmond because… he really has no idea why. The worm had been Khemu’s and Desmond just tried to follow him even after Bayek tried to give him to a friend he knew would take care of him. No, Desmond will not become any kind of Hidden One symbol. He’s so small, barely no one notices that Bayek carries him around XD

Okay, so I’m fusing Eivor’s and Basim’s idea because they’re connected. Basim actually keeps Desmond for one single purpose. After Enkidu refuses to come near him, Enkidu visited him once and left a worm by his feet before flying off. Desmond is actually the last ‘gift’ Basim got and he named Desmond ‘Gilgamesh’. Did his Loki senses ping anything about Desmond? Who knows XD What matters is, after Basim gets suckered into Yggdrasil, Eivor took Desmond off Basim’s clothes and gave him to Hytham. She knew that Basim cared for the worm (most of the time, talking to the worm as if the worm could understand him) and it felt right for the worm to be given to Hytham. … Desmond is just reeling from the fact that he spent years accompanying some kind of human being possessed by an Isu or something (he doesn’t know that was a thing XD)