#sorry if this is out of nowhere and ill be back to replies but this is just my oPiNiOn

[hehosts-moved]

it is okay to let people have "their thing" in rp. there is nothing wrong with not competing with them — we all want "our thing," so it's okay to let people have their own. it's just something i've noticed and have to be transparent about. i cannot tell you how many times i have seen this trait in roleplayers (not just in instances that happen to me, but to others). someone is posting happily about their content and then someone else is "inspired" to literally do the exact same thing but with a "lil twist." it's very obvious, and honestly? very embarrassing ..... it's very frustrating, and i see this as a pervasive, very irritating behavior. let people have their things as you would (and do) want your own. we are not here to compete but to co-exist and collaborate. the more original your concept, the more interesting the plot! sometimes the "ideas" are not ideas, but they are memories of what has been seen. a memory. again, it's not surprising there would be multiple nurses, doctors, etc, but we can all tell when a "fresh idea" is someone else's. again, this is not just something "about me," but something i actively see happening to all of you, too.

[mephisto-reporting]

Sorry, I Hurt You: Zayne Edition

Premise: You hurt him with your words and instantly regretted it, tearing up for the things you said, things you could not take back. But in that moment, all he sees is the love you have for him. Inspired by this request. Pairing:Reader x Zayne Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship for this fic. If you would react to this situation differently by saying you would not hurt him, you would not argue, then please know that this fic may not be for you. Life happens and different people react differently. A reader tag isnt a generalisation for this fic. Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist. Content warning: Angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, tears.

Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition | Xavier Edition | Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition

 Zayne had promised to meet you at 7 p.m., a rare evening carved out of his relentless schedule. But, as always, the world seemed to conspire against you.

At 6:34 p.m., your phone buzzed.

Zayne: Emergency surgery. I’ll be late. I am sorry.

The message was short and direct, like every other text you’d received when he was busy. Not that you minded, because you knew he would be indulgent when he had the time with his gifs and emoji.

You sighed, staring at the glowing screen. Of course, it wasn’t his fault—his job was important, lives depended on him. You knew that. You always knew that. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You: How late?

You waited, watching the little "typing…" bubble appear and disappear a few times before his reply came in.

Zayne: I’m not sure.

You: Ill wait for you, Dr. Zayne 😉

The knot in your chest tightened. You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, staring at the clock on the wall. 7:00 p.m. came and went. By 8:30, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the room in shades of blue and gray. By 10:00, your patience was fraying.

Your thoughts spiraled. You couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you spent more than a few uninterrupted hours together. If it wasn’t the hospital, it was a conference, or research, or some far-flung medical camp in the middle of nowhere.  You understood—he wasn’t just a doctor, he was the doctor, the youngest cardiologist in Linkon City, and his work saved lives. But no amount of understanding could temper the weight of the empty hours that stretched between you tonight.  It wasn’t just tonight. This was a pattern, a cycle you’d grown used to but never quite accepted.

But waiting was a lonely affair. Life had been stressful for you, too. Work, finances, personal struggles—everything felt like it was crashing down. And now, the one person you longed to lean on, to feel close to, seemed so far away. Was it selfish to want his presence? To crave a moment of his time? You didn’t know anymore. All you knew was that you missed him. Missed you both.

By midnight, the frustration was a storm you couldn’t contain. You told yourself you’d wait but every tick of the analog clock that Zayne liked was like chalk grating against the blackboard. :00 a.m. The city outside your window was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of passing cars. 1:45 a.m. The words you wanted to say twisted in your chest, growing heavier. 2:23 a.m. The lock turned.

The sound of the lock turning startled you. Zayne stepped inside, his movements deliberate and quiet as he placed his bag down and shrugged off his coat.

“You’re awake…” he said softly, his sharp eyes flicking to you as you sat up on the couch.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice flat. “I’ve been waiting. I wanted to see you. How was the surgery?”

“It went well,” he said simply. “Complicated, but the patient stabilized.”

“That’s good,” you said, your voice tight. “Have you eaten anything?”

He shook his head. “I grabbed something at the hospital earlier. I’m fine.”

Fine. He always said that. No matter how long the day, no matter how much he’d pushed himself, it was always, I’m fine.

“Zayne…” you began, your tone already edged with the frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You’ve been on your feet for hours. You need to take care of yourself too, you know.”

“I do,” he replied, his tone even, almost dismissive. “We can talk about it tomorrow. You should get some rest.”

And there it was—the spark that lit the fire.

“Rest?” You repeated the word, your voice incredulous. “You think I can just ‘rest’ after sitting here for hours waiting for you? Do you even realize what this feels like, Zayne? It’s like I don’t even exist in your life anymore!”

His brows furrowed at your outburst, a hint of confusion on his face.

“I know your job is important,” you continued, your voice shaking. “I know what you do saves lives, and I’ve tried so hard to be understanding. But do you have any idea what it’s like to feel like you’re always second? To feel like you’re not even a priority?”

“Wait.” he interjected, his tone calm but firm. “I didn’t say you weren’t a priority—”

“No, you didn’t say it,” you interrupted, your anger flaring hotter now. “But it feels that way, Zayne. Every time you miss a dinner, every time you come home at some ungodly hour, it feels like I’m just… here. Waiting. Always waiting. Do you even realize how long it’s been since we’ve had a real conversation? Since we’ve actually spent time together?”

His brows furrowed deeper. “You know my job doesn’t exactly allow for flexibility.”

“Your job,” you spat, the words laced with bitterness. “It’s always about your job. And I get it, okay? I do. You’re saving lives, and that’s incredible. But when was the last time you asked about mine?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance. The words poured out, sharp and unrelenting.

“Do you have any idea how lonely it’s been? I’m not even sure I’m a part of your life anymore!”

The moment the words left your mouth, you saw the shock flicker across his face. His usually stoic expression cracked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Your heart thudded painfully as the weight of what you’d said sank in. “Zayne, I—” Your voice faltered, tears welling up. “I didn’t mean that. I swear I didn’t mean that.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, his silence somehow heavier than any words he could’ve spoken.

The room fell silent except for the quiet hitch of your breath. You pressed your palms to your eyes, trying to stem the tears, but they came anyway, hot and unstoppable.

Your chest tightened as the tears spilled over. “I’m sorry…” you choked out, the apology tumbling from your lips. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just… I don’t know. Everything’s been so overwhelming, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I know how much your work means to you, I really do. I’m just… I’m tired, Zayne.”

ZAYNE’S POV

Her words hung in the air, each one slicing deeper than the last. I’m not even sure I’m a part of your life anymore.

Was that really how she felt? Had he really been so consumed by his work that he’d made her feel this way?

He swallowed hard, guilt tightening in his chest. Of course, she was right. He’d assumed her silence meant she understood, that she was okay with the late nights and missed dates. But now, looking at her, he realized just how deeply he’d been wrong.

And then came her tears.

He’d seen people cry before—patients, families, even his colleagues. But her tears were different. They weren’t just borne of hurt; they carried guilt, love, and something raw and unfiltered. She wasn’t angry at him. She was hurting for him, even as she blamed herself. “I’m not making excuses. I just... I’ve been trying to be strong for so long, trying to understand, but tonight... I just felt... alone. I didn’t mean it. I swear. You don’t deserve to hear that from me. I love you so much, and I feel terrible for even saying something so awful.”

The anger in her voice born from exhaustion, frustration, a sense of abandonment, had shocked him, yes. But now, as her words turned to apologies, all he could see was how deeply she cared for him. Through the raw tears, through the pain and self-accusation in her voice, all he could see was how much she loved him. It was clear as day, even when she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, even as she buried her face in her hands.

Her words tumbled out in a rush, desperate, as though she needed to undo everything with an apology. She wasn’t angry anymore, no. She was so sorry, and it hurt him more than anything else could. He felt his heart crack, the guilt swirling like a blizzard, and without thinking, he moved toward her, instinct pulling him into action.

“Don’t cry...” he murmured, stepping closer. His voice was softer now, tinged with something almost fragile.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t mean it, Zayne. I swear, I didn’t mean it. I just—tonight was hard, and I—”

“Stop.” His hands came up to gently frame her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that refused to stop. “You don’t have to apologize.” The way her shoulders shook with each sob, the desperation in her voice—it all spoke of someone who loved so fiercely that even the slightest hint of causing harm to the one she loved shattered her entirely.

“But I do,” she insisted, her voice cracking. “I was upset, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to say something like that to you. You didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry, Zayne. I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t mean it. I’m just… so tired, and everything feels so heavy. I know how much your work means to you. I know it’s important, but… but I said those things, and that’s not okay.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and it cut through him like a scalpel. The rawness of her pain, the way her hands shook as she tried to wipe away her tears—it gutted him. He stepped closer and gently took her hands, stilling their movement. “Stop,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Please, stop apologizing.”

But she didn’t. She kept going, as if she needed him to hear every ounce of her sorrow, every misplaced thought born from exhaustion and frustration. “Just because I’m in a bad place doesn’t mean I can take it out on you. It doesn’t make it okay to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry—”

“Enough,” Zayne said, firmer this time, his hands tightening around hers. He closed the distance between them, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes searched hers, even as his own unshed tears blurred his vision. “I hear you. And I forgive you. You don’t need to say another word. You are important to me. Do you hear me? You always have been.”

He pulled her into his arms, and for a moment, the world outside disappeared. The tension in her body melted into his embrace as he cradled her close. He felt her sobs against his chest, the dampness of her tears seeping through his shirt, and his heart ached in a way that no medical textbook could ever describe. It was a mix of regret, love, and an overwhelming need to protect the person in his arms.

When he tilted her face up to his, his thumb brushing tenderly over her cheek to catch the fresh tears, his lips found hers in a kiss that spoke the words he couldn’t say. It wasn’t rushed or hurried, but deep and deliberate—a melding of emotions. He tasted the salt of her tears, felt the softness of her lips trembling against his. His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her there as if letting go might shatter everything. It wasn’t about passion, not this time. It was a deep, desperate need to remind her, remind himself, that she was still here. That no matter how far he had drifted, they were still together.

This is how much she loves me, Zayne thought, as her lips pressed harder against his, the urgency building. This is how much she needs me. Even when she’s hurting, even when she’s angry, she still reaches for me, still tries to make things right.

In that moment, everything was stripped bare. There were no walls, no facades. Just him and her. His kiss was a vow, an apology, and a promise all at once. When he finally pulled back, his lips still ghosting over hers, he murmured, “I’ve been a fool. I am sorry too. I should have been here, with you. I should have made time for you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering through the tears. “Zayne—”

“All these days, I thought I was going home after work,” he continued, his voice low and weighted with emotion. “But it wasn’t home. It was just a house. This… this is home. You’re my home.”

The words hung in the air between them, raw and unfiltered. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, his hands still framing her face. “I’m taking the weekend off. No conferences, no surgeries, no calls. Just us.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped her. “You mean it?”

“I do,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “Even if I have to tie myself to this couch to prove it.”

She chuckled softly, and he felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“I miss you,” he said finally, his voice breaking the stillness. “I miss us. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important. You are. You’re everything.” And that was the truth. All that mattered now was her. She was his home, his heart, his everything. And he would make sure she knew that every single day.

A soft sigh of relief escaped her, and she relaxed into him, the tension in her body finally easing. And Zayne, for the first time in a long while, allowed himself to rest. He closed his eyes, listening to her heartbeat against his chest, and he knew that no matter what else life brought him, this was all he needed. This was home.

And he was never going to let her feel unimportant again.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition | Xavier Edition | Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition

Taglist: @cordidy

[morose-melodies]

love like this | yandere! capitano x reader

summary: you're terrified of the captain but what did he do wrong??

content warning: (y/n) thinks shes being abused (mental illness)

"I believe the captain will be coming back today."

the dark mansion felt gloomy ever since the announcement, you didn't hate him, no, but you weren't very excited to see him again.

subconsciously, you dragged a finger across your wrist before standing from the couch in the living room and peeking out of the window once again.

despite the confusing feelings you feel every time you think of him, you still enjoy his company and you're sure he enjoys yours too.

the windows were cold and your breath fogged up the view, but once it cleared, you noticed the gates were slowly opening and you imagined yourself running through those gate.

you smiled to yourself as you backed away from the window and turned to walk up the stairs, but that walking turned into running as you heard the front door open.

you ran down the dark, unlit hallway until you met the end of it, you opened the door and the end and closed it behind yourself, releasing a shaky breath.

you heard him walking up the stairs, coming closer and closer towards where you were, it was hard not to hear, you backed away from the door, running to the bathroom and slammed the door behind yourself.

you slumped down against the door, your hands against your chest to calm yourself down, but the panic your felt only seemed to become stronger as the seconds passed.

with shaky hands, you sat them to your sides, listening as the door to the main room opened, you hear capitano walk in before pausing.

you bit down onto your brusied lip, your hands trembling as your heard his foot steps get closer and closer towards the door.

he knocked on the door.

"I heard you run up the stairs. are you not feeling well?" His voice was muffled behind the door, you hesitated but then said, "I'm okay."

"if that's the case, let me in." He wasn't asking, he was demanding, you after steadying yourself, you stood up slowly and opened the door, peaking out.

he pushed the door open when you hesitated and pulled you into his arms, whispering to you how badly he missed you.

"it breaks my heart when you run away from me, do you know that?" He questioned, you shook your head, apologizing before pushing away from the hug.

his touch was cold.

he held you in his arms, refusing to release you, even as you pushed at his chest. his fingers wrapped around the thin fabric of your nightgown.

he took in a deep breath before saying, "I received a letter from your handmaiden," his grip on you loosened ever so slightly, but his grip on your gown remained the same, "in the letter, she told me that you've been going out, far more than you normally do. where have you been going, (y/n)?"

the way he spoke told you he was doubting you, it bothered you. it had been quite some time since you last acted out.

his grip on your gown tightened, as if he were hurrying you up, tell you to answer. he doesn't act like this usually.

his urgency worried you.

you blinked, once and then twice, your hands slowly dropping, no longer touching him, "you... you know I like going out. what's so weird about it?"

"where were you, (y/n)? tell me."

"I... I just visited the marketplace... I got very lonely while you were gone," you placed your hand onto capitano arm, lifting your eyes to look at him.

"and who took you there?"

"dottore... when he had free time, he would take me there." you replied, your voice slowly became more and more weak as you began to feel nervous.

capitano released your gown and in return you let go of his arm. "I remember telling you to go nowhere until I came back. how is it that you forget?"

"I'm sorry. I just got so lonely... I'm very sorry," after all you said, capitano still grabbed you, and carried you to his bedroom, despite all of your apologies.

down the dark hallway, capitano called out, "bring dinner to us, knock on the door before entering."

and a maid from downstairs answered, "of course, my lord."

upon entering his bedroom, he sat you at the edge of his bed. you shook your head, once again blubbering your apologies.

"stop it," capitano shook his head, holding a hand out, gesturing for you to be quiet, "I am not going to hurt you. it hurts me to see you so afraid."

but, how could you not be afraid? he was frightening. "o-okay," you sniffled, wiping away the stray tears on your face.

capitano seated himself beside you, his hand rested on your thigh, as if to steady you -- to calm you down. "you have to understand why I worry for you. tell me, (y/n), how many times have you ran off and gotten into trouble?"

many, many times but you couldn't bring yourself to reply, only sniffle.

"you and I both know you've gotten in trouble more times than we can count on our hands combined," capitano gently squeezed at the flesh on your thighs, "come here," he held his arms out and you crawled into his arms, letting him hug you.

"how could I ever harm you, (y/n)? what's the matter with you?" this had been going on for months now, it was sudden also, you woke up one morning and were terrified of the captain.

you would flinch at his every move, cower away from him, or even run to hide from him given the chance - it was disheartening. he tried to give you distance, he had tried everything for you.

he had given you months of space, time to think, time to be away from him - the captain thought, perhaps, that would fix the problem, but it did not.

the captain vividly remembered one night when you screamed and cried in your sleep - kicking, fighting, shivering, and murmuring. the captain couldn't watch it, so, he woke you up, pulling you into his arms, making you look at him - he questioned you, tried to soothe you but you looked at him with wide, terrified eyes.

what had gone so wrong? months prior, the captain would have sworn you loved him - you would run to greet him whenever he arrived home, you would pester him and you had never cowered in fear at the sight of him.

"if you would just tell me, (y/n), what I've done so wrong - I would do everything in my power to better it, I can promise you that," the captain ran his hand up your back, his hand moving to rest on your trembling shoulders, "speak to me, (y/n). I care for you, so, so much."

"you..." you paused, sniffling, your head resting on his shoulder, "you..." you couldn't remember but you were terrified and you couldn't understand why.

"(y/n), please," the captain pleaded, his hands holding your shoulders - his grip was not firm, not anymore, no, it was gentle, delicate. the captain tried so hard to make you feel safe, he tried so hard to make everything better.

you believed wholeheartedly that the captain had harmed you and the captain knew that. "(y/n)... I harmed you," it wasn't true, it wasn't, the captain wouldn't dare, no, he wouldn't dream of harming you but, for your sake... "what could I do to make it better?"

"wha..." you lifted your head, eyes wide as you looked at him - what could he do to make it better? "l-let me be," you stammered, squirming out of his lap to stand in front of him, "i... I don't want to be here all the time... I want to do normal things and live a normal lif-"

the captain nodded. "of course, I'd do anything to make this better, (y/n)," the captain stood and took a deep breath - he could already feel himself beginning to worry; what would happen if he let you leave the manor? would you be alright? would you attempt to leave him? would you-

"if it would make you feel better, (y/n), I will permit it."

[milkyblxxd]

Price coming home from deployment, itching with anticipation to see you after weeks apart- only when he enters your home, you’re nowhere to be seen. Anxiety bubbles in him, you always greeted him the second you heard the doorknob twist. Your shoes are neatly placed by the door, keys on the table next to your purse - but where are you?

Suddenly as he’s still scanning the first floor for any indication of where you went, he hears a hacking cough coming from upstairs. Heart beating in his throat he quickly shucks off his shoes and hat, racing up to your shared bedroom. His fingers are grazing the doorknob as he hears sniffling on the other side.

John opens the door carefully, and when he sees you in bed, he’s relieved but worry still swims in his stomach. Tissues litter the floor around your side of the bed, cold and flu medicine bottles haphazardly strewn over your bedside table, a box of saltine crackers spilling out along side. He sees your form under the pile of blankets shielding you, your flushed face the only visible part of your body.

“Oh darling…” he slowly makes his way over, not wanting to startle you.

Your eyes open slightly feeling the shift of the bed under his weight. He can tell by the confused look in your eyes that you’re trying to figure out if he’s really here, or if another fever induced hallucination of him has appeared before you.

“John?” You whimper, trying to sit up.

He stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “It’s me love, I’m home.” His hand moves to your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from your skin. “You’re burning up baby, how long ‘ave you been sick?” The frown on his face is prominent. He can’t stand to see you like this, hates knowing he was away while you had to deal with this illness all alone. He should have been here to nurse you back to health, to take care of you.

Before you’re able to answer, a coughing fit interrupts you. John coos at you, rubbing his hand along your chest. When you stop, you reply, voice croaking from not using it for several days, “S-Since Wednesday,” you place your hand over your eyes, the light shining through your window becoming painful, “I think I’m dying.”

John hums, moving some of your hair out of the way of your sweaty face. “I don’ think so, my love. I think you’re just very, very sick.”

“I wish I was then, it would be better than leaking snot everywhere.” You moan, chest aching with every word.

His shoulders shake in a gentle laugh, you always were a bit dramatic when you became sick. Leaning down, he begins to pick up the stray tissues, wiping up crumbs from the saltines.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” you mumble, “thought I’d be better when you got back to clean.”

John shushes you. “There’s no need to apologize, love. Let me take care of you, yeah?” The way your eyes close shut as he rubs your temple with his thumb makes his own eyes crinkle, smile etching his lips. Even when sick, you’re still the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

After finishing cleaning up, John moves to your bathroom to start a bath, adding in your favorite bubble bath scent and lighting a candle that shouldn’t be too overwhelming. Your eyes are shut when he comes back, clearly exhausted. They only open as you feel strong arms slide underneath your body, face flushing even more as you’re picked up like you weigh nothing.

“Come on darling,” John whispers into your hair, “let me get you cleaned up and we can go watch a movie together, I’ll make you some tea too.”

[eighttens]

Imagine: Gymcrush!San x pilatesgirlie!reader

Synopsis: Imagine finally working up the courage to go up to Gymcrush!San, after weeks of semi-creepily watching him across the stuffy gym.

It’s not your fault that he‘s somehow always there when you do your sessions, even less so that your eyes keep finding him and his tiny waist. Him and his thick arms, him and his muscular chest, him and thunderous thighs. Not your fault that he wears those skin-tight tops, paired with the iconic grey sweats, or on days where you thank the lord, workout shorts. No, not your fault at all when he looks like sex on a stick after running cardio on the treadmill, even more so when deadlifting, a belt cinching his waist in deliciously.

So, after a particularly successful gyming session for you (you had completed a new Pilates routine with increased weights, and held your yoga stretches for a whole 20 seconds longer than usual, and even the 15-minute warm up run seemed easier than usual), you finally manage to walk up to him.

You’re regretting it the moment you start walking towards him, only now noticing that he isn’t here alone fuck fuck fuck what do you mean he’s got his bros here?!. You almost make a 180 to turn to leave, but decide to kick yourself in the ass you’re going to die anyway, why not take the chance?. Your Yolo attitude carried your feet across the gym hall, and by some miracle the two guys standing with San start drifting towards a machine, probably to start the next set.

Taking deep breaths you try to hype yourself up, you look down at your clean shoes and revise what you’re going to say. Once your confidence if built up enough (and your short trek across the gym is complete), you muster up the courage to speak to him, lightly tapping his shoulder to call his attention.

He pulls the headphones off his head completely, and turns to look you in the eyes. His eyebrows raise slightly once he takes in your appearance, and you can feel your face heating up at the way his eyes scan your figure. He remains silent but nods his head to you once his gaze returns to your face, bidding you to say your piece.

You collect your scrambled thoughts and practically squeak out the semi-confession „Hi, sorry to disrupt you but I find you really admirable, I hope this doesn’t come out of the nowhere but could I have your number?“ Your eyes are hopeful, and by now you’re sure that a blush has crept its way onto your face- you can feel it down your neck.

You‘re fidgeting with your phone a little, watching his eyes widen and his mouth drop open a little, tongue coming out to dart at his lips before he speaks. „Yeah, sure. No problem.“ His voice is gravely but kind, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up at the success you’ve garnered from the interaction. A little too giddily you open your phone contacts and select a new contact.

Holding out your phone for him to take, you’re caught off guard by his grumbling voice again. „You do Pilates, right?“ your breath halts for a second. Never in your life had you considered it a reality where he would perceive your existence, too. It really didnt occur to you that just as much as you watch him, he could be observing you as well.

„Uh- yeah, yeah i do Pilates. Im usually in the open space though.“ you reply once you found your voice again. He nods thoughtfully in response, „yeah, thats right.. Ive seen you do your routines once or twice. Impressive as hell, i couldn’t do that stuff to save my life.“ a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he finishes typing on your phone, passing it back to you and looking into your eyes again.

You bite back a smile and look down at your phone to avoid his eyes, shy from the compliment. „Oh, thanks…“ you hear him chuckle. „Hey, lemme get your number too, ill reach out first since you beat me to taking the first step.“ your eyes flick up to meet his again, wide in surprise. „Huh?“ you look down to his hands where he holds out his phone on front of him, eyes expectant and warm.

He sighs and gestures for you to take the phone, which you do almost reflexively as he explains: „Well, you’re braver than me for approaching first, I’ve been noticing you for a while now, never had the confidence to go up to you though. I was worried I’d scare you away.“ You look at him in disbelief, your mind racing with thoughts as your gaze shifts to the heavy phone in your hand.

„Oh…“ your voice is quiet as you numbly type in your number, filling the contact as your name. A smile that mirrors his crosses your face when you look back at him, and you both end up giggling as you stare at another in silence, smiling like teens.

Once you’ve calmed down you avert your gaze again and shrug. „So… see you around??“ he nods almost immediately, arms flexing as he reaches up for his headphones again. „Yes! I mean- yeah sure.“ he corrects his overzealous tone and coolly coughs to cover it up, cringing a little at himself, and you laugh a little. „Okay, bye then!“ you send him a little wave and turn around to collect your things and head to the changing rooms to leave, a little pep in your step.

Glancing into the contacts of your phone you notice that not only did San leave you with his number, but he added a note into the contact itself: „Meet me tomorrow in/after gym, same time as today? Maybe i can spot you, and maybe you can help me stretch? And maybe we can grab some food afterwards???“ you almost die right then and there, head floating in the coulds as your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling.

What you dont see though, is the way his friends rush over to him once you’ve left, bombarding him with a million questions and clapping him on the back in congratulations. „Wow! Sannie!!! The cute little Pilates chick? Fuckin‘ score man!“ Mingi claps his hands in approval, nodding hard as he watches your form leave the gym. „Who knew that San had this kinda game, damn good on you.“ Wooyoung still has his hands on San‘s shoulders, rubbing them up and down roughly.

San doesnt say anything, just standing there, soaking in the moment, chest warm and stomach fuzzy as he thinks back to your interaction. From one moment to the next however, his face falls. „Fuck.“ he curses, voice flat. Both Mingi and Wooyoung look at San‘s face, and then one another. „What do you mean? You just bagged all that, and you’re worried about anything??“ Wooyoung looks at him incredulously, expression almost comical. San shakes his head with a blank face his eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed. „Where do i take her to eat? And how the hell do i become flexible by tomorrow?!“

[ciitroner]

Rough Day

Ghoap x kidnapped!reader

Wc: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), afab!reader, noncon/dubcon-ish???, not proofread, kidnapping, oral sex (fem receiving), cunnilingus, reader is kinda touch starved, dark fic, mentions of creampie, Simon and Johnny are mean :(, Simon calls Johnny “pup” (once), voyeurism, one-time-mention of pee (not piss kink), reader is restrained and threatened (kinda), Soap acts like a wild animal sorry that’s how it goes 🤷‍♀️, also reader refuses to call them by their names lol, tell me if I missed any!

The sounds of clinks and jingles can be heard as the numerous locks unlock on the door, “Fuuuck. Hate this fuckin’ job sometimes.” You hear a deep, frustrated voice groan, paralleling the whistling creak of the wooden rectangle. Some hefty objects, perhaps a few bags, are thrown on the ground, and another voice replies curtly, “Manners, Johnny.”

Their heavy footsteps slowly move around the house, which is located in the middle of pretty much nowhere. Your breath hitches when the steps move closer to the dark room you’re locked in, chained to the headboard of their shared bed. They don’t come in yet, though, acting as if you don’t even exist. Acting as if they didn’t take you away from your life, locking you up in a house for them to play dolly with you. “Eh? Dinnae act like yer not agreein’ with me, Lt” the muffled voice rumbles from the other side of your door, coming closer and closer, until a ray of light peeks through the doorcrack that keeps getting bigger. He swiftly moves into the room and turns on the ceiling light, a poor little lightbulb hanging by an old cord. The sudden shift in brightness makes you blink a few times until your eyes adjust. You’re sure they have way more money than they’re letting on; yet they keep their pretty prisoner in a humble house - which could only be described as something from a cliché horror film. “Hey, lassie.”

His eyes meet yours, and you writhe against the headboard, trying to break free - albeit for naught. Your wrists hurt from the previous numerous attempts, and you quickly give up and settle down when he moves into the room, sighing. He sheds his clothes, only leaving him in his boxers, before he lies down on the bed next to you, lifting your tank top slightly and circling his cold finger on your stomach - dipping it down to the hem of your sweatpants from time to time. You shiver slightly and let out an audible gasp, trying to squirm free from his touch. “Had a rough day, lovie. Dinnae test me, aye?” He kisses your tummy before squeezing your waist with one hand and holding up his head with the other whilst lying on his side. Ghost moves into the room, and your eyes shift to his figure in the doorway. Soap notices your absent eyes and looks behind him, “Simon, need’ta fuck her.” In which the masked man only shrugs, “Go on then, pup.” Before chucking off his clothes as well, changing into a pair of sweatpants, and sitting down on the bed beside you.

The creaking bed dips down to one side, and you look over at Ghost, his muscles left on display. He’s big, and that’s accentuated by the phone he pulls out. It’s small in his hands, and you bet that he’s pressed the wrong letter on the keyboard one too many times because of his big fingers - which are twice as large as one of your own. Without the mask, now replaced with a balaclava, you can much easier see his brown eyes, and the fluttering blonde eyelashes every time he blinks. He starts mindlessly scrolling somewhere, furrowing his brows sporadically, but your attention is quickly shifted back to the man now between your legs.

“C’mon, lift yer hips.” His hands find the hem of your pants, but you refuse to budge. As grateful you are for the two to be back, as human contact is near impossible in your… new life, you hate when they touch you. Ghost appears to understand your situation slightly, or at least he seems to pretend-empathize with the ill-fated girl lying on their bed, “Easy, Johnny. Poor thing looks like she’s about to wet herself.” He snorts, sharing a laugh with the man forcefully tugging your bottoms off. The panic in your eyes is clear as day, when he carelessly throws them somewhere behind him, letting them scatter on the slightly dusty wooden floor. His fingers find your clit, and he slowly circles it, playing with it like a toy while he converses with Ghost for a bit. You don’t listen in, but try to focus on not getting wet, though his skilled fingers and the shackles aren't giving you much freedom.

After a while of kicking his legs back and forth like a teenage girl talking to her crush whilst lying on her stomach, Soap turns his head to you - giving you a toothy grin. He positions himself on his knees, dick throbbing against his boxers. He grips your thighs and pulls you closer to him before removing his fingers from your clit and moving his head down to kiss it, darting out his tongue and licking down to your hole. “Fuck, hen, yer pussy n’ yer attitude are givin’ me two whole different signals.” He inhales loudly, and you let out a quiet whine. You’ve learned that they either like it when you talk back to them or hate it - which leads to you getting gagged; and not trying to test the waters - you bite your lips instead. “Only if ye were a wee bit better actor, maybe I’d believe yer complaints, bonnie.” And with that, he starts eating you out like a starving man. He leaves no place untouched, bites your inner thighs and grins when you close them on his head - trapping him between them.

His wet tongue glides over your glistening pussy, pushing it into you before travelling upwards. You choke back a sob of pleasure when two of his fingers start dancing around your hole while he sucks on your clit - biting it occasionally for the pleasure of hearing a moan leave your mouth. It’s downright filthy, and he keeps mumbling incoherent things to your pussy, before plunging his fingers into you. A loud whine leaves your mouth, followed by sweet little ah’s, which prompts him to groan against you. “Yeah, good girl, moanin’ like a bitch in heat.” Your head flies back and your toes curl at the third finger he crams into you. Pouting, you look to the side, not being able to bear the sight of Soap hunched over your bottom half like a wild man. Your eyes meet Ghost’s for a short second, before they travel down to the bulge between his pants, clearly aroused by the action going on beside him. His eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell he’s smiling at you before palming his clothed dick and looking down at Soap fingering you to oblivion.

Soap scissors his fingers and licks his name onto your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Suddenly, a loud mewl can be heard from you when you finally cum. Your eyes are closed shut, and only open when Ghost lightly slaps your cheeks, “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Come on.” You almost let out a scream when you’re met face to face with Soap. His jaw is wet, and his mouth is drooling. His leaking cock’s hard against your stomach and twitches slightly when he pulls you in for a deep kiss. “mmph taste so fuckin’ good” he moans against your mouth, biting your lower lip. One hand leaves your hips to guide his cock to your wet cunt, and you sigh because apparently, the concept of condoms doesn’t exist in the scot’s head. You feel like you need a break though, so when he tries to push in, you attempt to stop him with a weak, “W-wait I-”

His other hand leaves your hip and squishes your cheeks together until your lips form a cute little pout, which he can’t help but kiss. “Haud yer wheesht” he hisses, and pushes his cock into you faster than you’d like. Ghost pets your hair and softly speaks, “Don’t be greedy, let him cum and spread you out for me, hm?” Your lips quiver and they both laugh at you, “be a good girl, and you’ll get treated like a princess afterwards, love.”

[parkerslatte]

Finding Home || Part Three

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions of parental death

Summary: Azriel and Y/N cross of two tasks and get to know each other a little better.

Finding Home Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

If Azriel had thought a week ago that he would be sitting outside a small cafe with flowers overflowing in hanging baskets waiting for Y/N to come out with drinks, he would think it was a completely made up scenario in his head. But it was his reality. The air was cold but it was nothing that he couldn’t handle, but Y/N was wrapped up in her scarf, thick coat and gloves and shivering as she sat in her chair, placing a mug of coffee in front of him. 

As he looked at her, he did feel bad. The only reason they needed to sit outside was because of him. There was nowhere inside the cafe where Azriel could sit comfortably with his wings. Azriel watched as Y/N pulled out a seat and sat down opposite him, cupping her mug between her two gloved hands. She raised her gaze and met Azriel’s slightly concerned one. 

“What’s with the look?” Y/N asked, her voice slightly muffled by her scarf. 

“You can sit inside,” Azriel said. “I can stay out here.”

Y/N frowned. “Absolutely not! We are completing that list together. It will not be together if I have my coffee indoors while you sit out here all on your own.”

“But you are shivering,” Azriel said.

Despite the many layers Y/N wore, there was still a small shake to her body that Azriel could tell she was trying to hide. “I will be fine,” she answered. “Now, how do you want to tackle the tasks?”

Azriel took a sip of his coffee, the small chill in his body slowly warming. He was used to the cold temperature yet the warm drink still felt satisfying spreading through his body. “I don’t know. I haven’t even read the whole list.”

Y/N held out one of her gloved hands. “Give me the list.”

Without any questions, Azriel handed over the list and Y/N unfolded it and placed it on the table. She shuffled her chair closer to him, the metal scraping against the cobblestone street. While Y/N’s eyes were on the list in front of her, Azriel’s were on her. He still couldn’t believe that someone was willing to do any of these tasks with him. 

“We can cross a lot of these off in one go,” Y/N said. “You can easily do number one and number thirty at the same time.”

“What are those?” Azriel questioned.

“Read a book and relax,” Y/N said. “In fact you can easily pair number twenty two with it as well. Have breakfast in bed.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “I don’t see how I could have possibly done that by myself. I would need to go to the kitchen and make the food then go back to my room. It would be easier to just sit at the kitchen table.”

Y/N giggled and Azriel turned his head toward her. “What’s so funny?”

“That you assume that I will make you breakfast in bed.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant, I just…”

Y/N placed her gloved hand on his forearm. “Relax, I’m just teasing. But I will be expecting you to make me breakfast in bed too.”

“There will be no doubt about that,” Azriel replied, his gaze falling to the list once again. “So what shall we do about the theatre one? As far as I know the theatre in Velaris is currently under construction.”

“Well, there is a theatre in the Summer Court, it’s right on the beach. It’s gorgeous! My father was originally from the Summer Court and he took me there when I was child. I try to go back on occasion. It’s a way to remember him.”

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said, placing his hand on top of her gloved one.

Y/N smiled, yet it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay. It didn’t happen suddenly or anything, he caught an illness that was incurable, even the best healers couldn’t help him. For a year I was expecting it but even when it happened, it was a surprise.” 

“When did it happen?” Azriel asked. 

“Nearly one-hundred years ago,” Y/N answered, looking at where Azriel’s hand rested on top of hers.

Azriel looked at Y/N, truly looked at her. Despite her happy and calm demeanour, there was a certain sadness lurking beneath the surface. Something within him wanted to take all of that sadness and pain away and make sure that she never had to feel it again. 

Y/N cleared her throat. “So, how about we tackle two of these tasks today? One obviously being the coffee and the second could number seventeen, cook dinner? Only if you want to, of course.”

Azriel smiled. “Of course I want to.”

The smile that spread across Y/N’s face was unlike anything Azriel had ever seen. It felt as if a warm blanket had been draped across him. “Great,” Y/N said. “We can buy some ingredients and go back to my apartment. Unless you want to do it at yours?”

Azriel thought of his apartment. The lifeless rooms that held no meaning to him. He had moved into it when he began to feel like he was intruding on Cassian and Nesta. Every morning he would have breakfast with the two of them and he could tell that both of them were too polite to mention that they just wanted breakfast for the two of them. 

His small apartment was the first and only thing he looked at before he bought it. It did its job well enough and that was all Azriel was after. Now…he only craved a home. Somewhere where memories are etched into the walls and floors. Somewhere where he could make his own memories…with his own family someday. Y/N’s apartment was the closest thing to that. Even if he hadn’t even fully looked around it, just from the living area alone, Azriel could tell it was well loved and lived in. He could tell that it was a home, not just a building. 

“No, your apartment is fine with me,” Azriel answered.

Y/N nodded and folded up the list and placed it within her own pocket. Azriel couldn’t help but smile at that simple action. She was really in it for the long haul with him. This complete stranger he met not even twenty-four hours ago. 

“I don’t have a particular recipe in mind but when we buy the ingredients, we can just improvise,” Y/N said, taking a sip from her coffee. 

Azriel agreed and lifted his own coffee back to his lips, smiling as he took a sip. The feeling of a real smile still felt foreign on his face yet he was getting used to it. As he looked at Y/N wth her thick scarf, gloves and coat he couldn’t help but smile a little wider. He wasn’t expecting to be caught but as soon as Y/N’s eyes met his, she smiled in return. Her quiet laugh was the only sound he could focus on. 

“What?” Azriel asked. 

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, I just…you weren’t who I expected you to be.”

Azriel frowned. “What do you mean?”

Y/N shrugged. “I just didn’t expect the shadowsinger of the Night Court to be all smiles and laughs. It’s far from the way others talk about you.”

Azriel deflated a little in his chair and Y/N’s eyes widened. “Not that it’s a bad thing. I was just expecting you to be…broodier, I suppose. But you seem to smile a lot. It’s rather beautiful.”

Her compliment sent another faint blush across Azriel’s cheeks. He hadn’t received attention like this from someone for quite a while. It was nice. 

“I-thank you, Y/N,” Azriel said. 

Y/N waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t need to thank me for a simple compliment you know damn well is true. Just look at those dimples.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “You are ruining my reputation here.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “It was ruined the moment that gorgeous smile appeared on your face.”

Azriel’s cheeks began to ache. He tried to fight the smile away but he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. “So,” he said, changing the subject, “when do you want to buy the ingredients?”

Y/N quickly glanced at her coffee, it was nearly empty. She lifted it to her lips and took a final sip. “Now, if you are ready too?”

The coffee in Azriel’s mug was gone, only a tiny amount remained, not even enough for a mouthful. “Let’s go.”

As the two stood to their feet, Y/N suddenly gasped. “Wait, before we go.”

She dug in her pocket and pulled out the folded list and placed it down on the small wooden table. “We can now cross one thing off.” She handed a pencil to Azriel. “You can do the honours.”

Azriel took the pencil from her grasp, her fingertips brushing against hers. He expected her to pull her hand away the moment they made contact but she didn’t. In fact Y/N didn’t even pay any attention to the scars on his hands. All she did was look at him with an excited expression on her face. Azriel didn’t want to recall his hand. 

“One down, twenty-nine to go,” Y/N said as Azriel reluctantly pulled his hand away to cross out the task.

“Twenty-nine to go,” Azriel repeated.

Originally thirty tasks seemed to be a long and pointless list but now as he stared down at it, he couldn’t help but think that it was too short. He was only one task down but he had found that he hadn’t had as much fun or smiled as much as he had in a long time. The way Azriel felt; he never wanted the feeling to end. 

“Let’s go and get the ingredients,” Y/N said, tucking the list back into her pocket. “There was a recipe my parents used to make that I loved when I was younger. If that’s okay with you? If there is something you would like to make, just tell me. They are your tasks after all.”

“That sounds perfect to me, Y/N,” Azriel said. 

She smiled and linked her arm through his. “Then let’s go, shadowsinger. Let’s show the rest of Velaris how intimidating you are with that gorgeous smile.”

Azriel couldn’t help but blush. 

***

The moment Y/N and Azriel entered her apartment, it was getting dark outside. Their trip to gather ingredients for their meal took a lot longer than originally anticipated. The two of them simply enjoyed strolling around different stores with one another. The domesticity of it all made Azriel’s heart soar. 

“So,” Azriel said as he peeled potatoes. “Tell me more about yourself, Y/N. I’m sure you have spent more time talking about my smile than you have talking about yourself.”

Y/N laughed as she nudged Azriel out of the way to reach for the carrots next to him. “I can’t help it if your smile takes my breath away and I find it hard to speak.”

Azriel rolled his eyes but remained silent. 

“In all honesty, I’m not too interesting,” Y/N said.

“Liar,” Azriel said, nudging her with his elbow lightly. 

“I’m serious!” Y/N exclaimed. “I just have a simple job.”

“What is it?” Azriel asked. “You haven’t mentioned anything about your job so far.”

“I haven’t? Hmm, must have slipped my mind,” Y/N said and began to chop up the carrots. “If you must know, I work in a music shop. I teach lessons there on occasion too.”

Azriel smiled softly. “That is not simple.”

“It really is,” Y/N replied. “It’s nothing like a job defending this court and keeping it safe.”

Azriel frowned. “It may not be but it is a beautiful job regardless. What do you teach?”

“Mostly piano and violin,” Y/N answered. “I mainly teach children but sometimes I get some older fae request lessons.”

“How long have you taught them?”

“Probably close to a century now,” Y/N replied before sighing. “Before that I simply worked in a bakery.”

Azriel gleaned over and noticed her eyes glossed over in sadness. He stopped peeling the potato immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N said, though it was clear she wasn’t. “It’s just…the reason why I started to teach children to play music is because it is what my father taught me. From the moment I could walk he began to teach me piano. I was awful at first and I hated playing it. But I soon fell in love with it.”

Azriel placed his hand gently upon hers, squeezing it to offer some comfort. Y/N’s eyes snapped to his hand then to his eyes. A small smile appeared on her face. 

“That piano over there was his,” Y/N said, glancing to the corner of the room where a piano resided covered in a layer of dust. “I haven’t been able to play it since he passed.”

“It is a beautiful piano,” Azriel said. 

Y/N smiled. “It truly is. My mother gifted it to him for their mating ceremony.”

Azriel smiled. “She must have truly loved him. It is a beautiful gift.”

“She did,” Y/N said. “I don’t remember much of my mother, she died when I was only two years old. But I do remember the love she had for my father. And from what I vaguely remember and from what my father told me, she loved me very much.”

Azriel smiled. “Your parents sounded wonderful.”

“They were,” Y/N said sadly. “My mother was Illyrian, you know?”

“Really?” Azriel asked, looking to her back, seeing if she had hidden wings she hadn’t told him about. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Y/N chuckled. “A lot of people don’t realise. I was born without wings, not even the power to summon them at all.”

Azriel looked down at the potato he held in his hands as he realised he had gotten caught looking for the most distinguishable feature of an Illyrian. 

Y/N brushed her hair behind her ears. “My ears aren’t as pointed as the High Fae’s either, but not as rounded as yours.”

Azriel looked at her ears, at the tips that seemed different to any he had seen before. Though he was rather distracted by the jewellery that decorated them. 

“So it seems that we have something in common, Azriel,” Y/N said. 

Azriel looked away from the jewellery that decorated her ears and back to her eyes. “It seems that we do.”

Y/N smiled before picking up her carrot again. “Tell me about yourself now. I feel like I’ve spoken about myself forever.”

“There is not much to talk about,” Azriel answered. 

Y/N groaned. “Come on! You are what? Over five-hundred years old? There is surely plenty you can talk to me about.”

“You are not that much younger than me!” Azriel exclaimed. “There is surely more fot you to talk about too.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “You should never assume a female’s age, Azriel. Now, tell me about yourself. Remember I am holding a knife, I might not be able to do anything with it, but remember I am holding one.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “What do you want to know?”

“What are your hobbies? What do you like to do except flash that smile about?” 

Azriel nudged her gently before cutting into the potato. “I am…not really sure what I like doing.”

“Come on,” Y/N said. “There has to be something.”

The shadowsinger shrugged. “I like reading, I suppose.”

“Great, that’s a start,” Y/N said. 

Azriel placed the potato in the pan and moved onto another but found himself at a loss for words. What did he like to do? In his feelings of loneliness he had seemed to abandon everything he enjoyed doing in favour of taking on more tasks and missions to distract himself and keep himself busy. He was sure that he hadn’t picked up a book for his own pleasure in quite some time. 

“I honestly can’t think of what I enjoy doing,” Azriel admitted. “It’s been a while since I have done anything for my own personal pleasure.”

Y/N looked up at him, something akin to empathy in her eyes. Azriel looked away quickly and continued to peel the potato. “I normally just ask Rhys to send me on more missions to fill my time.”

“You need to take time for yourself,” Y/N said, lowering the carrot once again. 

Azriel scoffed. “I’ve taken enough time for myself. All I ever am is by myself.”

“I never mentioned anything about being by yourself,” Y/N said. “Do the things you enjoy doing but invite someone along.”

Azriel looked down at her, his eyes calculating before his shoulders slumped. “It’s difficult. Every conversation I have with my family now is all about their family. I just feel so…behind.”

Saying exactly what he was feeling aloud made everything real but at the same time lifted a small amount of the weight on his shoulders. 

“It’s okay to be behind, you have a long life Azriel. You don’t need to catch up with your family, you can take things at your own pace,” Y/N said, toying with a carrot shaving. 

“Y/N, I am nearly five hundred and fifty years old,” Azriel said. “If I was destined to have a family, surely I would have been blessed with one by now.”

Y/N shrugged. “I am four hundred and ninety eight. If I were destined to have a family, surely I would have one by now. It doesn’t matter when you begin your family, Azriel. What matters is that you are ready to start it with the right person.”

“You’ve never found that person?” Azriel found himself asking. 

Y/N shook her head. “I thought I did. It was a long time ago now but he was from the Winter Court and I was in love with him and he was in love with me.”

“What happened?” Azriel asked. 

“We grew apart,” Y/N replied. “He was part of the Winter Court’s army and was constantly busy with his duties where we would have no time to see one another. We still loved one another but we weren’t in love with one another. It ended amicably, I was even invited to his wedding. When I saw them, that was the love that he deserved, not the surface level love I was offering.”

“What about you? I guess you haven’t found that person either?” Y/N questioned.

Azriel thought of Elain. “I thought I did too. But we were not compatible at all. After the initial…lust passed, we were left with stale conversation. She is a great friend now, though. There has been no one since.”

“There’s another thing,” Y/N said. 

“Another what?” 

“Thing we have in common,” Y/N responded and shuffled over to the other side of the kitchen and poured glasses of wine out and passed one to Azriel. “To our loveless lives.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh and clinked his glass against hers. “To our loveless lives.”

Taglist:

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[icycoldninja]

Hey sorry to bother you again but if you're still not too busy could you make a fluff story with Sephiroth? (And ik I always ask of him but I'd really appreciate this specific request) not gonna go into too much detail but here recently I've been feeling really sick and weak and on top of it I've been losing weight (I'm not for sure ofc but i see myself in the mirror thinning out) and i just want a small story doesn't need to be big or anything just something to kinda make me feel better for a moment please and thank you and if not i understand completely :)

Oh, I'm sorry. My prayers are with you and I'm wishing you a speedy recovery. In the meantime enjoy this, hopefully it will lift your spirits.

My poor baby (Sephiroth x Sick!Reader)

Sephiroth knew you were sick the moment he awoke and found your forehead to be much, much hotter than he was used to. He pressed his palms against your head one more time, confirming his suspicions. You were sick, probably with a cold. The only question was, how did you fall ill? Had he not taken precautions to prevent this?

Then he remembered you telling him one day in the height of his overprotective delirium that not every issue can be prevented, you were all bound to have something happen someday, one way or another, the only thing you could do was ensure it wouldn't be serious. Today seemed to be that day, though thankfully, a cold is not serious.

Sephiroth carefully pried himself out of your grip, his body reluctant to leave your cage of warmth. He knew, however, that taking care of you was more important than his own needs right now, so he endured the chilly, fresh morning air, and made his way to the bathroom to hunt down medicine.

He found some, but discovered upon his return that in the brief time it took to locate this medicine, you'd woken up and were now coughing your head off in bed, wondering why you felt so hot and sticky, and why your nose was clogged up.

"Seph," You whined helplessly, as he entered your room. "I feel awful. I think I'm sick."

"I had that same notion," He responded, opening the bottle of medicine and measuring a dose. "I've taken the liberty of getting some medicine from the bathroom; it's not expired, don't worry."

"Ok," You sighed, sitting upright so you could drink the bitter liquid without spilling it everywhere.

"And some water," Sephiroth insisted, handing you a bottle of water he pulled out of literally nowhere.

"Thank you," You rasped, barely gulping down the water before a coughing and sneezing fit overtook you.

"You wait there," Sephiroth said, surveying your situation. "I will get you some tissues and other necessities.

Before you could reply, he had already left the room, off to find supplies for you. He returned a moment later, carrying a small garbage can, a roll of garbage bags, a package of cough drops, and more water. He laid all these items out on your nightstand, arranging them so they're easily accessed by groping, shaky hands like yours, and kissed you on the forehead before telling you to get some rest.

"Seph?" You began, "Don't go...stay..." To a normal person, this would mean potentially catching whatever you had, but since Sephiroth was not a normal person, he had nothing to fear. He was immune to most sicknesses, so naturally, he agreed.

"Very well then," He mumbled, without a hint of reluctance as he pulled back the covers and slid into bed with you. "Come here, let me hold you."

Sniffling because of your blocked nose, you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his firm chest, the elevation doing wonders to drain your stuffy nose. You were still really uncomfortable, what with your itchy and sore throat, annoying fever and those occasional chills, but lying in Sephiroth's arms made it all the more bearable.

"My poor baby," You caught him whisper, after watching you shake under another bout of cold shivers. "I wish you did not have to suffer this much."

"It's fine," You replied, coughing. "I've been sick before."

"Still, you do not deserve to go through this pain. It is wrong and unnecessary."

"I love you too."

Sephiroth responded to that with a little "humph", patting your head gently.

"Get some rest now, Y/N. You will need it if you wish to make a speedy recovery."

[pointpilot]

Untitled Labru Fic

synopsis: laios indulges kabru in his childhood country bumpkin lifestyle. laios is a freak AND kabru learns something about himself

word cont: 935

inspired by my post here

-

“Did you know you can eat these, Kabru?”

Securing his hands around the base of a branch and a leaf which it was tethered to, a rip was heard as he took the leaf into his delicate hand. 

“I supposed I didn’t.” Kabru replied, attentive eyes following the rich green leaf now in front of him. He noticed the fronds had a sort of peach fuzz to them as they caught themselves in the orangey-blue sky. “These are called Winauk leaves, they come from Winauk trees. I’d be careful with eating them all the time, though.” Laios aimlessly waved the leaf around.

“Why?” Kabru queeried, arms folded as he lay his back against this tree. Before looking up at Laios, he admired the open field they relaxed in, tall grass swaying whichever way in the wind while rays of heat gently tingled their skin. 

“Invasive beetles from the Eastern Archipelago are known to carry fungi that infest the leaves. If you eat this leaf with the fungi present, you could get a really bad disease.” 

Laios threw the leaf in his mouth. 

Dumbass!!! Then why would you eat it!?

Kabru screamed in his mind, he then started to say this aloud, but his words came out like this:

“Oh, is that safe to eat then?” He asked with a gentle smile of concern, pointing to Laios’ mouth as he obnoxiously chewed, the blond sitting himself next to him. “I’ve eaten these so much as a child that I can taste the difference. Want one? I’ll taste test it for you!” He gestured his hand towards the branches of the tree. “I promise they’re really good. Almost minty.”

Kabru had an ultimatum. Keep a friendly, albeit flirty relationship with Laios to continue to truly see how his crazy-ass ticked, or get a disease and die. Truly, he was interested in Laios’ history and how it shaped him into the person he is now. Which is why he went out into the vast rural lands of Melini with him to indulge in Laios’ former rural lifestyle. Kabru knew how much he missed his homeland, and used this as an apt opportunity to become closer to him, while also being curious as to what this entailed. 

“I’ll try a leaf.” Kabru forcefully beamed, splaying his palm out so a Winauk leaf could be placed in that empty space. Laios beamed back, rushing up to grab a leaf for Kabru. In all honesty it was quite adorable how excited Laios became introducing Kabru to his former lifestyle. Oh well, it is what it is. If he truly did get sick, Falin could work her magic. 

-----

The next day, Kabru surprisingly didn’t become severely ill and die. Today he walked beside Laios in one of Melini’s many produce fairs. This was the norm for any rural type of area anywhere, and Laios was just geeked to see it. 

Many farmers had their best produce up for sale, beautiful vegetables, fruits, and even monster foods such as basilisk eggs and mimic claws to name a few. Kabru clutched Laios’ flushed arm harder once he saw a sign indicating harpy eggs were for sale, though.  

As they continued to walk through the colorfully vibrant fair, Laios saw something in particular that piqued his interest. 

“Kabru, look! I’d love for you to try these!” Kabru curiously picked his head up from his melting exorcism sorbet, dripping onto his fingers. He opted to just get rid of it as he was getting tired of the sorbet, chucking it in the nearest trash bin. 

By the time he turned around to what Laios was pointing at, his face scrunched and contorted in a way he thought he never could. But only Laios could make him do that.

WILD ANTS AND CRICKETS

No.

Dear goodness no.

This was nowhere near treasure bugs. Monsters had a sort of magical feel to them, a feel that separated them from regular, everyday insects that didn’t feed off of mana, but fed off of the disgusting dung and sediment of the earth.

Kabru’s resolve broke.

“I’m sorry Laios, but—”

Laios had the most joyous expression on his face, placing an order for two small bags of (thankfully) dead crickets and ants. He held them in his hands and beamed towards Kabru. “Falin and I would go out and eat these all the time! Personally my favorite is cheddar crickets, but these’ll do.” 

And just like that, Kabru realized something.

Laios would probably never have an opportunity like this again. He chose Kabru to come with him not only because he cared, but because deep in his heart he knew Kabru was the only person that’d willingly indulge in his fun activities. 

Kabru also didn’t want Laios’ fond memories of them together to be fabricated all for the sake of studying him. 

He genuinely enjoyed Laios’ company, no matter how crazy he was. 

He enjoyed walking barefoot in the tall grass while being surrounded by Winauk trees, he enjoyed how Laios would take him to secret vibrant strawberry patches, and especially enjoyed playing with village dogs together, running with the dogs in wide, open fields.

He obviously despised eating potentially diseased leaves and right now, didn’t even want to look at an insect.

But in a world where resurrection is common, he could die over and over for Laios and deem each of those deaths worth it. It wasn’t like he hasn’t died numerous times already. The only difference now is that he’d die a million times with purpose.

“I’ll eat both.” Kabru gave Laios a closed eyed grin. 

Kabru threw up the insects five minutes later.

[sophswritingthings]

hello !! so like, i suddenly got a fever due to flu season (just when finals was over 😭) and i have this scenario in mind where mizu takes care of sick!reader/the other way around.

mizu w/ sick!reader

i imagine her to not be so good at it, only handling stitches and gash wounds whenever she gets hurt. so, when it's about fevers/other internal illnesses (+ the fact that no one probably showed her how to treat and deal with it), i think mizu goes on auto pilot and does whatever she thinks might work 😭

of course, being the kind soul that he is, ringo may offer his assistance. but mizu wants to be the one to take care of you.

[ + bonus points if mizu and reader has some sort of distance instead of having a close bond. imagine mizu grumbling how weak reader is and reader just goes, "you don't know what you're doing, do you?" ]

reader w/ sick!mizu

mizu rarely gets sick, she doesn't even remember the last time she had it. or the feeling of someone treating her while she laid down, vulnerable, somewhere hidden from view─or in bed, if she were lucky.

i think she's the type to neglect herself. saying "it'll pass" while wobbly holding her sword. this also explains why she doesn't know how to treat others, (ahem, you), as she had only sucked it up and dealt with it like another obstacle on the road.

im so sorry this is kind of long 😭 i love your works so much!!

a/n: THIS IS SO SWEEEET. and yes, mizu is 100% a girlfailure when it comes to this sort of thing

warning(s): swearing

word count:  710 words / 3,782 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: mizu x fem!sick!reader 

————————————————————————————————————————————

“could you lie down, please? for gods sake,” mizu narrowed her eyes at you, ushering you back toward the bed. she heads for a table on the other side of the room, littered with poultices. 

did she have any clue what to do with them?

hell no.

but she would try whatever she thought could work, you being sick would only hinder your progress on the quest. and no way could she have that.

and she didn’t want you to be hurting, either.

you gaze at her across the room, your face was red and puffy—hot and under the weather. you can barley see her, due to your disoriented feeling, but she knew for a fact she had no fucking clue what she was doing.

“.. mizu,” you rasp. “you don’t know what you’re doing… do you?”

mizu freezes, if only for a second. she sighs, grumbling something under her breath.

“no,” she answers blankly. “I do not.”

“then why didn’t you take ringo’s help? I’m sure he knows something,” you murmur, your eyes trained on her as she walks over to you. she settles down on the edge of the bed.

her hand gently brushed the side of your face, “I want to be the one to care for you,” she whispers. “you’re my responsibility. I brought you out here, it’s my job to care for you.”

you’re not sure your face could get anymore flushed, but it somehow does, your heart pounding in your chest as your stomach drops.

“oh,” your mouth forms a cute little “o” shape, casting your gaze downward.

she chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a quick kiss to it.

“you’re going to get yourself sick,” you protest, watching as she gathers herself back to her feet—and heads for the table again.

“I don’t get sick, (y/n).” she shoots back.

“everyone gets sick at some point, mizu. even you. doesn’t matter if you think you’re built of—“ you cough in between words, “—steel, even.”

she scoffs, “I don’t think I’m made of steel. steel is a pure, strong metal. something I am not. nowhere close to it.”

you sigh. you never liked the way she talked about herself.

“whatever you think you are, mizu.. everyone gets sick. even you.” you reply.

she decides not to respond, this time, not wanting to argue you when you don’t feel well. she listens as the door opens, revealing ringo with a bowl of soup. he smiled, and placed it down on your bedside table.

“thank you, ringo,” you rasp, returning his infectious smile.

“of course, (y/n),” he replies, glancing at mizu. “are you sure you do not need help, master? I heard—“

she cuts him off with her hand, “I’ve got it, ringo. thank you.”

he seems surprised she even thanked him; but he nods his head and slides out of the room.

she grabs a poultice from the table, and walks over to you. she sets in down in your hands, gesturing for you to drink. 

you look at her, skeptical that this is one that will even work.

“it isn’t poison,” she grumbled. “I know what poison looks like.”

you chuckle weakly, “I’m sure you do,” you gulp down the poultice, gaging a little at its bitter taste. “my fucking god.”

she laughs at your reaction, reaching over you in the bed and grabbing the bowl of soup.

“.. are you going to feed me?” you giggle, watching as she slides the noddles onto the chopsticks. for a minute, you thought she was joking. “oh. you’re serious?”

your heart flutters at the thought.

“does it look like I’m joking?” she raises an eyebrow.

you advert yourself gaze, “no.”

“than why are you asking?” she offers you the food again, waiting for you to take it. 

you lean forward, and slurp the noddles into your mouth. “not sure,” you mumble between your food.

“then eat and be quiet,” she murmured. 

you do as your told; smiling as she gently fed you. mizu was never so.. gentle. but you could see her hands shaking, she was scared she would fuck something up.

but here you were… sitting in front of her, having her feed you in your time of need.

you couldn’t help but love her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: sick!mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing 

————————————————————————————————————————————

mizu’s breathing was a bit raspy, a bit heavy as she held her sword wobbly in her hand. being sick was not something she dealt with often.

“mizu,” you narrow your eyes, “you need to sit down.”

“no.” she said firmly, her voice a bit raspy— “it’ll pass, (y/n).”

“I don’t care if “it’ll pass”. you need to sit down. now.” you commanded, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her down.

her eyes widen, staring up at you. she was never so forcefully handled, everyone was always so scared of her cold demeanor. 

“.. okay,” she whispered.

“lie back in the bed—and I’ll get you some soup and some medicine. i think ringo’s almost done,” you gently gesture for her to lie down.

she does as she’s told, for once in her life. listening to other people was never her strong suit. but she didn’t feel well, and you wanted to care for her. 

being cared for wasn’t… normal, to her. she never had a caring mother. her ex-husband tried to turn her in for a bounty.. care from someone else was new.

when you returned, you came back with a bowl of soup, and some medicine. a sticky, disgusting poultice. 

“you need to take this,” you hand her the poultice. she gazed at it, disgusting in her hand. but she quickly took it, repulsed by the taste. “it’ll help, I promise.”

“.. right,” she rasped. her eyes travel to the bowl of soup, her eyes alone asking you to hand it to her.

“in a sec,” you place it on the table beside the bed, pulling at her overcoat. she almost jumped out of her skin. “relax.”

you pulled off her overcoat, taking off the layer beneath it, as well. all she was left in was her wrapped, binded chest.

“It’ll make you more comfortable,” you whisper. “eat.”

now, she was happy to do that.

she grabbed the bowl and slowly began to eat, making sure to be slow and steady—she didn’t want to be throwing up her guts later. not in front of you, at the least.

you slide into bed next to her, gently rubbing her sides with your fingers.

she leans into your touch almost instantly. god, why was she so weak to you?

“you’re going to make yourself sick,” she whispers.

“I don’t care,” you grumble back. “my only job right now, is to care for you. sound good?”

she scoffs, adverting her gaze. “.. sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: HEYYYY holiday is over, back to your regularly scheduled programming!! (I did get p!nk tickets tho guys so that’s cool <3)

[sturniolosangel]

escapism-matt sturniolo (18+)

masterlist

warnings: drinking, cursing, kissing, break up, partying, drugs, use of pet names, choking, creampie, unprotected sex (please wrap it before u tap it), oral(f receiving), confession?, little bit of soft dom matt not proofread like always🙉

summary: reader gets broken up with, after a little drinking she ends up at matt’s door. will he give in to her thoughts?

i wake up with tear stained cheeks and my hair all messed up. i get out of bed looking at myself in the mirror. god i look a mess over some guy. i sigh as i get up texting my friends we’re doing out tonight and they all agreed.

as i got into the shower i was just thinking was i upset that he broke up with me or that i wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore? i laughed as i got out. i was still hurt but it is what it is. i needed to get forget about him and move on.

as i got ready i put on my favorite black dress that my ex would never let me wear. felt so good to do whatever i want and god did i look good. it was strapless so my boobs were pushed up and my figure looked amazing.

i sat down at my vanity putting on my makeup and doing my hair. i just have forgot how much of a bad bitch i was because damn i look good. i facetimed one of my best friend nala telling her i was ready to go and ill be on my way to her house.

as i hopped in my car connecting my phone to aux playing the hills by the weekend turning the radio up. i got to my friends house getting out the car an walking in i didn’t need to knock. she gave me a hug “girl im sorry his ass broke up with you he was an asshole anyway. moving on to bigger and better things” she spoke.

“and i hope bigger dicks too” i replied giggling. “you ready to go!” she said excitedly. i nodded as she ordered the uber. as the uber arrived she locked her door and we walked outside into the uber. “everyone should already be on there way” i said looking up from my phone. she nodding sliding some pill on her tongue i’ve never seen before. i shook my head smiling at her knowing she was in for a ride tonight.

about an hour later im a couple shots deep since my group of friends kept ordering them an who was i to say no. my body was now almost numb but in a good way, a freeing way.

on the dance floor me and nalas bodies pressed together as we danced to music in the background. nala grabbed my phone from my pocket going to snapchat and recording me bending down and twerking on her. she posted it to my story giggling giving me my phone back.

i giggle back singing along to whatever song was playing as i walked to the bar. i got another drink sitting on a stool scrolling through instagram when a certain someone’s post came up. matt sturniolo a guy i used to flirt and hook up with before i got a boyfriend and man did he look extra fucking fine.

all of a sudden i got hot and sweaty as a wet patch grew in between my thighs thinking about our past experiences. i started to get needy for something i didn’t even know. i needed to go see him. he wouldn’t even be shocked if i pulled up to his house because we used to always show up out of nowhere just to fuck. god was i really this drunk?

i called nala over to me and said i was gonna leave and she gave me a hug goodbye before sliding a bag of pills and a condom into my purse i laughed at her as she walked back to our friends.

matt…

matt?

matt.

was all that rung through my head. i hoped into my uber debating it i should take the pills but then i realized girl wtf no. it was hard to not move around to create friction being drunk and horny.

the uber parked right outside his apartment i opened the door as i grabbed my bag and walked to the door. i knocked on the door hope his brothers weren’t home. the boy i’ve been needy for half the night answers the door.

“princess what are you doing here?” matt spoke rubbing his eyes. i could melt just from his words. “i just came from the club and i need you matty” i said quietly. he nodded as he moved out the doorway so i could walk in. he shut the door turning me around to face him.

“need me to help you baby” he softly said. i nodded my head as i whined. “come on mattys here to help” he whispered as he took me to his room. he shut the door behind him locking it.

as he stepped closer to me he wrapped he’s hand around my throat connecting our lips. i walked back letting myself fall onto his mattress not breaking the kiss. his arms were on the sides of me keeping himself up. his lips found my neck lightly sucking as i moan feeling super sensitive from the alcohol.

“gonna make you feel good” matt spoke as he reached his hands to the bottom of my dress lifting it over my head. he groaned as my body was on display infront of him realizing i only had underwear on.

his fingers touched my folds through my underwear “already wet baby, you been thinking about me doing this?” he questioned. “fuck.. yes matt been needing you to touch me all night” i answered.

he slide my panties down my leg as i lifted my hips up to help him. “been missing this pussy so bad. too bad your shitty boyfriend had to take it from me” he spoke rubbing my clit in circles i moaned out at his actions. “i’m not with him anymore matt.. he broke up with me” i struggled to get out.

“im sorry princess i don’t know why he would ever part from this pussy” he said dipping his head down connecting his month to my pussy. i slide my hand to his head lightly gripping his hair. he moans against me send vibrations threw me.

i rock my hips against his face as a euphoric feeling rising in my stomach. he pushes my torso down so i’m stuck in place as he just devours me. “fuck.. matt keep going” i moan out back arching against the bed.

his hand reached reached up to grab my boobs kneading them. the overstimulation of my body sent the pit of my stomach out on to his tongue. he pulled away licking his lips. “best pussy i’ve ever tasted” i smiled as i pulled him back up kissing his now swollen lips.

i reached my hands underneath his shirt pulling it above his head taking him in. “god am i drunk or did you get finer?” i question giggling. he laughed shaking his head reaching down to take his pants off.

it felt like he was taking ages to get undressed so u spoke up. “matt please..” he aligned himself infront of me. “please what princess?” he gently spoke. “i don’t want to feel how i did last night so matt just take this pain away!” i raised my voice slighty at him.

“ill give you what you want but dont raise your voice at me. every. again.” he stated wrapping his hand around my throat before pushing himself into me. only response i had was a pornagrapic moan coming out my mouth.

“such a good fucking girl” he said as i clenched around him. my hands find his neck bringing him close to my face sharing breaths. his thumb slid onto my bottom lip as i open my mouth and let his finger slip into my lips on my light sucking his finger and swirling my tongue around it.

he groaned as he kept his finger into my mouth holding my jaw bucking his hips deeper into me. my moan vibrating his thumb that rested on my tongue. his mouth taking the place where his thumb once was. “fuck matt give me it all.. please” i said digging my nails into his skin.

he obeys putting all of his dick in me i whine out from his actions. “you got it. take it like a good girl.” he spoke throwing his head back. “fuck.. fuck.. matt!” before i could say anything pleasure rushed over me as i dragged my nails down matt’s back.

he moaned against my neck thrusting into me gripping my hips. “i’m almost there baby doing so well for me.” he whispered as i whined from being overstimulated. a few more thrust and a warm liquid was now filling me up. his moans were being covered by my neck, i reached up to rub his face as he came down from his high.

“can we just stay like this for now?” i spoke softly. “anything you want baby” he whispered back. “one thing i will let you know is that im never letting you or this pussy go ever.” he said wrapping my legs around him as he reposition us. i smiled as i cuddle into him getting sleepy.

if you want to be tagged lmk!

tags: @lustfulslxt @oversturn @ilovemattsturn @oliviasturniolo21 @wh0szjoanna @flowerxbunnie

a/n: so sorry if i forgot to tag people some of my posts i can’t see comments but i hoped you enjoyed! also sorry it took me forever i am school and im still in the process of unpacking but two new smuts will be out soon. as always i🤍u

[atsro-slut]

Heyy astro! So I just fell ill out of nowhere, so I gotta cancel so many plans 😔 Being sick sucksss, especially when you finally have a break from school 😮‍💨 Could I please ask a nice comforting fic about Remus taking care of reader when she's sick? Possibly with her feeling nauseous (without actually getting sick) and being triggered bc of her Emetophobia? Thanks lovely! 🫶

Comfort in the Quiet, Calm in the Storm

Hi hun!! Im sorry you're sick :( I hope you feel better and enjoy the fic!!

Remus Lupin x female!reader

Remus helps Y/N feel better when she falls sick!

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

It was a cold evening at Hogwarts when Y/N first felt it—an odd, unsettling sensation in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it at first, busying herself with homework in the Gryffindor common room. The flickering firelight and the comforting presence of the castle were usually enough to keep her grounded, but today was different. The nausea seemed to worsen with every passing minute, and soon she found herself clutching her abdomen, trying to breathe through the sudden discomfort.

“Y/N?”

Remus Lupin’s voice brought her back to the present. She glanced up, meeting his warm brown eyes across the room. He had been studying at the table nearby, but his gaze was now fixed on her, concern written all over his face.

“I’m fine,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head in an attempt to brush off the queasiness. “Just a bit of a stomachache.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t look fine. Come here, love,” he coaxed gently, his tone soothing.

Y/N didn’t resist. She knew he wouldn’t let it go, and honestly, she was grateful. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t feel fine at all. In fact, she felt like her whole body was on the edge of something she couldn’t control.

She slowly stood up and walked over to where Remus was sitting. He shifted aside to make room for her, and as she sank into the armchair beside him, he instinctively reached for her hand.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said softly, his thumb gently tracing the back of her hand.

“I don’t know,” Y/N whispered. “I just feel… off. A bit dizzy. My stomach’s turning, but it’s not—” She stopped herself, aware of what she was about to say. The word hung heavy on her tongue, a word she tried so hard to avoid. She swallowed, willing herself to stay calm.

Remus’s eyes softened with understanding. “You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to,” he said gently. “But I’m here for you. Whatever it is.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her just from hearing him say that. It was rare for her to open up about her struggles with emetophobia, especially with the one person she cared about most. Remus had always been understanding, but today, her fear felt overwhelming. Her stomach churned at the thought of getting sick—something she hadn’t been able to control since childhood—and her mind began to spiral.

“I’ll get you something,” Remus continued, sensing her distress. “Something to settle your stomach. You’ll feel better soon.”

Y/N gave a shaky smile, grateful for his calm presence. He always seemed to know how to make her feel better, how to soothe her even when the world felt out of control.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The evening stretched on, and Y/N couldn’t shake the sensation of nausea that clung to her. She had tried to drink some water, but it hadn’t helped. She had curled up under a blanket beside Remus on the couch, but the nausea still gnawed at her insides, and the dizziness refused to leave.

"Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?" Remus asked after a long silence, his voice careful.

Y/N shook her head quickly, but the movement only made her feel worse. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself, but she couldn’t escape the overwhelming sense of discomfort.

"I’m fine, really," she replied, her voice strained. "I just need a minute."

Remus didn’t push further. Instead, he carefully shifted so that he was sitting behind her, supporting her back with a cushion. His hands were warm and steady as he placed one on her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on her skin.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice like a gentle lullaby. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The kindness in his tone made Y/N’s heart ache. She had always been so terrified of being judged, of appearing weak or fragile, especially around him. But Remus never made her feel that way. He never once looked at her with pity, and that was something she cherished more than anything.

She leaned back against him, resting her head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a rhythm she found grounding, and it helped her focus on something other than the sickening feeling in her stomach. She closed her eyes, listening to the quiet, to the sound of his breath, and allowed herself a small moment of peace.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked after a while, his voice soft, barely a whisper.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had been carrying this fear around for so long, and though she had told Remus bits and pieces before, she had never truly opened up about how severe her emetophobia could be.

"I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice trembling.

Remus didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he simply continued to hold her, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos of her mind.

When he finally spoke again, it was with a quiet understanding. “You don’t have to tell me everything, love. But if you want to talk, I’m here.”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she had never been able to express. She had always been afraid of burdening others with her fear, especially Remus, but the kindness in his voice and the gentleness of his touch made it feel just a little less daunting.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I hate this feeling. The nausea, the thought of being sick. I just… I can’t handle it. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Her chest tightened, her breathing becoming shallow. Remus’s arms tightened around her as if he could somehow absorb the tension in her body. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Whatever you need.”

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” Y/N continued, her voice barely audible. “I just want it to stop. I’m afraid of being out of control. Of not being able to stop it when it happens.”

Remus’s thumb brushed against her temple, as though brushing away her worries. “I know, Y/N. I know you don’t want to feel like this. But you’re not alone. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He kissed the top of her head, his touch tender and reassuring. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

Y/N clung to his words, willing herself to believe them, even as her fear threatened to swallow her whole.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The night stretched on, the fire crackling softly in the background, and the hours passed in quiet conversation. Remus didn’t try to rush her through the nausea; instead, he focused on calming her mind, drawing her attention away from the spiral of thoughts that threatened to take over.

As time went on, Y/N began to feel a little less overwhelmed. The nausea was still there, lingering in the background, but it wasn’t as suffocating. She had Remus with her, and that made all the difference.

“Do you want some tea?” Remus asked, his voice soft. “I think it might help settle your stomach.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion. “Yes, please,” she murmured.

Remus rose from the couch and moved toward the small kitchenette in the corner of the common room. He returned shortly with a steaming mug of chamomile tea, the aroma of the herbs filling the air.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the cup. “It’s not much, but it should help.”

Y/N took the mug from him, the warmth of the tea comforting against her chilled fingers. She took a slow sip, letting the soothing liquid settle in her stomach. For the first time all evening, she felt a small glimmer of relief.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Remus smiled, his eyes soft. “Anytime, love. You don’t ever have to go through this alone.”

She smiled back, leaning into his side once again. For the first time in hours, the knot in her stomach began to loosen. The fear wasn’t completely gone, but it didn’t feel as overpowering. And with Remus there beside her, it felt a little easier to breathe.

They sat in silence for a while, just being together. The world outside seemed distant, irrelevant in the face of their quiet comfort.

Y/N’s head rested on Remus’s shoulder as they watched the flames dance in the fireplace. She didn’t feel entirely better yet, but with him there, it felt like the storm inside her had calmed—just a little.

And in that small moment, she realized that maybe that was enough for now. She had him. And that was all she needed to make it through the storm.

[throneofsapphics]

between the heavens and the embers

Fenyrs x f!Reader

Summary: Day 4, “She will die, thinking you never loved her.” With Fenrys

Warnings: terminal illness, discussions of death/death, angst 

kinktober masterlist

Of course Aelin had kept in contact with her, he thought bitterly. Or at least caught wind of what was happening through the city's gossip. After their split, he went through extensive efforts to avoid anywhere she frequented. Nowhere felt safe, and he’d begged Aelin to send him abroad again. 

Y/n, dying, the one he could never quite ‘get over’ as they’d all say. The rest of their court had passed years ago, and he found solace in her shortly after. Still, he left. Maybe it was fear, at the time he thought his own immortality would be a blessing - giving him plenty of time to move on or to find someone new.

“It’s .. it’s nothing about you.” 

“You told me forever,” tears streamed down her face and he hated himself for a moment, hated himself for giving her that kind of hope. 

“I shouldn’t have said that.” He replied tightly, forcing any emotion out of his voice - a neutral mask, perfected over the centuries, slid over his features. 

“Gods” She scoffed, fingers tugging at her hair. He gripped the fabric of his pants, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her hands away, to take them into his own. “Was all of this a lie? All of the times you told me you loved me?” 

He winced at the pure resentment in his voice, a crack appearing in his mask. Still, he was protecting her from the reality of growing old while he would stay young. “I spoke without thinking.” He was digging himself a greater hole, going past the point of return. 

“Leave.” Her voice was cold. “I don’t want to see you again.” He gave her a short nod and turned. He allowed himself to glance back once, but she’d already disappeared inside. 

-

Fenrys debated turning around at least twenty times during the walk to her house, on the outskirts of Orynth. Enough that he shifted and trotted through the trees lining the road - it would do no good to scare the living daylights out of anyone walking by. Things were simpler in his animal form, although the desire to flee was still there, it wasn’t quite as strong. She still lived in the same place as a decade ago. He steeled himself, trying to summon all of his courage as he made it. For Gods sake, he’s charged onto battlefields, fought enemies he was certain he’d lose against, faced the drudgery of foreign courts; this shouldn’t be this difficult. Finally, he arrived at her house. The yard was littered with people he recognized - her family, and he stopped outside the fence. Based on the wicked glares he was receiving, they recognized exactly who he was. 

He didn’t call out or ask, only waited to see what they would do. Even if he wanted to say something, he couldn’t be certain his voice wouldn’t break. A woman disappeared inside and he heard muttered voices, angry rebukes, and then the calm melody of hers - sounding the exact same as she did a decade ago, down to each inflection and pause.

The door swung open and he held his breath. She exited and ushered everyone else back inside, ignoring and shutting down their protests. Curious faces, young and old, peered through the curtains.

She walked with ease for someone dying of a terminal illness, and paused a foot away from him, on the other side of the fence. 

He stood outside of the fence waiting for her, on time for once. He’d promised to take her on a date and held a small bunch of her favorite wildflowers flowers in his hand, ones he’d picked on his way here. She bounded outside with a smile on her face, closing the door behind her. 

“You showed up,” she grinned and almost ran the rest of the way. 

“Did you doubt me?” He teased 

“Is there something you need?” The words were polite, but indifferent and a strained smile was pasted on her face. Mentally he ran through all of the different ways he’d tried to justify his actions fifty years ago. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. “And?” 

-

She didn’t believe it until she saw the male standing there, on the other side of her fence, just like he had ten years ago. Y/n tried to tamper down the bitterness and resentment, to ‘let it go,’ as everyone told her she should’ve years ago. Still, he’d left with no idea she was pregnant, and any letters she tried to send him were never answered and likely never opened or delivered. There wasn’t a chance or a way to actually tell him, and she debated whether or not to tell him now. Somehow, he’d never caught wind of it and her kids stayed back far enough he couldn’t catch wind of their scents. 

“I regret … my actions.” 

She blinked once, trying to clear her vision and make sure this was real and not some figment of her imagination. 

“Thank you?” Her voice trailed up at the end, uncertain if that’s actually a proper reply or not. Gods, she’d been in several awkward situations over the years but this might top the rest of them. 

She chewed on her bottom lip, debating whether or not to make her confession. She’d raised two beautiful children, at least for the first decade of their lives. As a single mother … she was reluctant to let go of them. 

-

“There’s … people you should meet.” 

His heart dropped and he felt the urge to sprint - to run far away from here. He knew exactly what she meant. She took one glance at him, and turned. Probably testing to see if he would run again but … Fenrys forced himself to stay still, to keep in place while she made her way back to the house. 

She came out a minute later with two children, males and twins. One hand braced each of their shoulders. They couldn’t be older than ten, and he had no doubts they were his. For fucks sake he was a father. Even without scenting their heritage, their features gave it away. They looked just like him and … he swallowed the thought, even centuries later it was still fresh, the memories still too difficult to bring to the forefront of his mind. 

-

“I never spoke ill of you to them, and never let anyone else. If you were wondering. I never let anyone else, either.” He sat next to her on a bench, watching as the two sprinted around the large backyard, chasing each other with wooden swords. It faced the mountains, expanding into a beautiful view of the Staghorns. He could feel the breeze of the wind, and if he closed his eyes, he could smell the pine and snow. 

“You had every right to.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two children, wincing as one hit the other on the back of the knees. He’d had no idea of what to say to them, how to even interact, but he supposed he’d have people to introduce them to. Gods if he had to ask Rowan for parenting advice, he’d never hear the end of it. 

They sat in silence, and he’d forgotten how nice it is to sit in her presence, how she'd always … steady, for lack of a better word. 

“The healer says they will settle,” y/n’s voice was hoarse now and in his peripheral he spotted her brushing a tear away. “I understand if it’s too much, but would you …” 

“I’ll look after them.” He promised, and without thinking he grasped one of her hands in his own. She didn’t pull away and he squeezed gently before letting go. Her hand fell flat against the wood of the bench, and her fingers flexed, digging in slightly before she returned it to her lap. She didn’t look at him, but a ghost of a smile crossed her face, gone before he could memorize it. The memories of her had grown hazy over the years, but now he wanted to take in every inch of her, commit it all to memory so years from now he could still remember her. Not necessarily out of love, but as a reminder. A reminder of how badly he’d messed up. He owed her that, owed himself that. 

-

“AELIN.” Fenrys roared, pounding on the Queen’s door. He’d returned several hours past sundown, the sky dark and lit only by the moon and several of the city’s inhabitants asleep in their beds. 

“What the fuck?” She cursed, and he heard both her and Rowan moving. He raised his hand to knock again, but the door swung open and a pissed off looking Queen and King consort stood in front of him. Still, if they knew about his kids … that anger would be nothing compared to his. 

“Did you know?” He said through gritted teeth. 

She crossed her arms, propping her wait on one hip. “I did, and I told you.” She said slowly, as if she was talking to a child - taunting him. 

“You never told me.” 

“I told you this morning!” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The other thing.” 

“Just tell us what it is, Fenrys.” Rowan said, his voice low and eyes half-lidded with sleep. That’s a change from the Rowan from centuries ago. If he’d pounded on their door like that, he’d be greeted by a knife to his throat or poised to slip between his ribs. 

“I’m. A. Father.” 

Aelin’s mouth parted, Rowan blinked once, and relief flooded through him that he hadn’t known. 

“Come in,” Rowan stood aside, letting him slip inside the room.

-

Fenrys stood a foot behind his two children, Rowan on his right, Aelin on his left, and brushed a stray tear away as they lowered the casket.  

His mind drifted to what he found the other day. First, he was shocked when her family asked him to help clean things out, but he supposed he was a step or two further away from her, and maybe they assumed it would hurt him less. Regardless, he felt … honored they trusted him with a task like that. 

He fought back tears as he opened the drawers, lifting out the variety of letters crumpled into there and spotted a fresh piece of folded paper, a barely legible scrawl on the top, one word … his name. Apparently her handwriting had never improved over the years. With shaky hands, he unfolded it. 

Fenrys, 

You’re a good male and a good father. 

Take care of our boys. I trust you. 

He blinked back the tears, he’d spent the days since she passed swallowed in a cloud of grief and worry. First hand, he knew how incredible of a mother she was and how the twins loved her. Six months, he’d had six months to watch her and learn but it hadn’t felt like enough and he doubted it ever will. But, y/n having faith in him, even trusting him, made some of the doubts fade.

[alistair-blackwood]

you can't carry it with you if you want to survive (Nimona 2023) - Chapter 2 (Preview #2) (New)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion)

Preview #1 (Updated 01/21/24)

Crouched beneath the desk, scanning the floor for one last stray budget document, a sudden, sharp chime rang from his pocket, startling him so badly he jumped and banged his head into the underside of the drawer. Eyes watering, he settled back onto his haunches, bringing his phone to his ear with one hand and rubbing the back of his throbbing head with the other. “This is Ambrosius,” he said, vaguely noting the late hour and the unfamiliar number, but primarily relieved that his words hadn't emerged as a slurred, incoherent mess. “Sir Goldenloin?”  At the unfamiliar woman’s voice, Ambrosius narrowed his eyes, confused. “Yes?”

At his reply, the woman's sharp sigh of relief crackled the receiver, her voice straining with tears. “Thank Gloreth. I am so, so sorry, sir, I know this isn’t exactly protocol and it’s late and I'm not technically supposed to have your cell but I didn’t know what else to do and I–”

“Hey, whoa–” Ambrosius’ eyebrows shot up in alarm as he hoisted himself to unsteady feet. “Who is this? Are you hurt?”

“No! No, sir, I’m just–” The woman’s voice hitched with a wet sniffle. “I’m sorry. This is Officer Laurel, sir, reporting from the Starcrest hotel over on Willowbrook. The patrolmen's guild has received reports of a disturbance, sir.”

His stomach lurched. It could be a coincidence—the Cynarian workers weren't scheduled to arrive at the Starcrest until next week, why would there be any trouble now? And yet, apprehension flooded him as fleeting images of the angry, fearful faces he'd seen in the crowd earlier that afternoon raced through his mind. 

“What kind of a disturbance?”

“Around 2100 hours, a group of five young men were witnessed breaking and entering the lobby of the hotel and have begun vandalizing the property. One witness believes she saw one carrying a bat. Sir, they—” Her voice wavered. “We suspect they’re a group of knight-cadets, sir.”

Drawing in a sharp breath, Ambrosius pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling to keep his frustration from bleeding into his tone. “Where are you exactly? Are you in the lobby?”

Silence, followed by a sheepish sigh. “I’m in my squad car, sir. I’m– I gave them a stern warning, but I’m not a knight, sir, I'm just a meter maid! I’m not even authorized to carry a baton!” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m pretty sure they’re inebriated, sir.”

Understanding surged through him with a jolt. “You’re alone? Where’s your backup?”

“I, um, am the backup, sir. Captain says we’re stretched real thin and–” She let out another shaky sigh. “He said the kingdom comes before a bunch of foreigners, sir.”

Ambrosius clenched his jaw as he grappled with his escalating anger towards the captain, the cadets, but most of all, himself. Of course. The patrolmen’s guild had been spread thin for months. He’d known that. He just hadn't thought to do anything about it until it had already been far too late to take any meaningful action.

He’d need to take care of this before it grew into something he couldn't handle. He could argue with the patrolmen’s captain and demand they send proper authorities to take care of this, but that could just make things worse. On top of wasting time, he might just receive a gaggle of meter maids and other ill-suited ilk, and Gloreth only knew how things would spiral from there.

The involvement of the knight-cadets ensured that news of this incident would be plastered everywhere by tomorrow morning. It could hand Ambrosius’ detractors even more fuel in their campaign against him, and that wasn’t even mentioning what Ambrosius would do if the Starcrest's belligerent executive officer, after receiving word of this, decided to rescind their agreement. He would have nowhere left in the whole damned kingdom willing to give the Cynarian workers a place to sleep.

It would unravel everything he's been building towards. Six months of late nights and skipping meals and suffering the unfathomable growing gulf between him and Bal, and he’d be right back to where he started.

No, this required a delicate touch; better to take the initiative and get as far ahead of the situation as he could than risk leaving it to someone less capable. It would grant him much more control over the fallout, and, besides, Ambrosius had never been very good at sitting back and watching someone else do his job for him.

Never.

“Let me take the lead, Director,” Todd had said, eyes glittering with malice. “I’ll make it hurt. I’ll make it–”

“I’ll do it.”

The words had spilled out before Ambrosius had a chance to consider them. Not that it would have made a difference. He knew, with a fierce, burning certainty, that there didn’t exist a world where he didn’t, at that moment, assume command. The agony of taking the lead himself paled in comparison to standing aside and allowing Todd, cruel, bloodthirsty Todd, take charge of Ballister's manhunt in his stead—even if the difference amounted to little more than having to choose between carving his heart out or just driving the knife clean through his chest.

No. Ambrosius had never been very good at sitting back and watching someone do his job for him. Not when he couldn't live with the consequences.

He could still hear the patrolwoman’s sniffles over the receiver.  “Officer?” 

She hiccupped. “Yessir.”

“Officer, I need you to call your captain and let him know what’s happening. Confirm there’s no other patrolmen or knights else available to assist.” He doubted it would manifest anything useful, but he still had to do things properly. “Keep me informed of any changes at the scene, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stay calm,” he said, reaching over to grab his messenger bag. “I’m on my way.”

A shuddering gasp broke the receiver’s pitch. “Thank you, sir. Really, sir, I don’t know what I would have– I’m sorry, I know this isn’t exactly standard procedure–”

“None of this is your fault.” If Ambrosius had a better handle as to the goings-on of his own damn kingdom, perhaps none of this would have come to pass in the first place. This was his mess, it was only fair he cleaned it up. “Stay where you are. I should be there in about 20 minutes. Maybe 30.” 

“Thank you so much, sir. I’ll keep you updated just like you said. Those boys won’t be able to sneeze without me letting you know, sir.”

Ambrosius chuckled. “Let’s not get carried away, Officer.”

“Yessir! I won’t let you down. Officer Laurel, out.”

He hung up the phone and brought it back to his ear just as quickly to phone a cab. With his car on the way, he grabbed the liquor bottle by its neck and shoved it into the back of the dark, dusty cabinet.

Glancing down at his phone again, he pulled up Ballister’s contact ID, thumbing the side of the screen. Taking a deep breath, he started typing.

Hey Bal

Something came up. Shouldn’t take more than an hour

I’m sor–

But he deleted that part. After the things said that night, Ballister deserved to hear any apology from his own lips, not from behind a screen.

Instead, he said,

I love you

The response didn’t take long.

Okay. Just keep me posted

I love you too

With a weary sigh, he pocketed his phone and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. The cab wouldn’t arrive for another five minutes—just enough time to brew a hot, sobering cup of black coffee.

[venusrising91]

King Lee

Pairing: Wonho x Female reader (+ brief mention of Wonho x Male)

Genre: Smut ( no plot in sight lol, just something short to read before bed )

Summary: Powerful and handsome; King Lee beds many concubines. Though he grows bored of them after a single night. Will you be any different?

Word count: 1074

T/W: DubCon

The king's lust was rumored to be insatiable. He never called upon the same concubine. 

Each night there was a new face in his bedchamber, a new body to ravish. Tonight he would bed a young man— lean and muscular with a face even the prettiest maiden envied. Surely he would be the one to leave the king smitten, to break his unending streak of never repeating conquests. You were certain of it. 

His name was Delios and his rank was low, just a courtier. But his bottom was plump and his abdomen taut. You’d attended to him days ago in the baths, cleansing the smooth golden skin, stealing glances at the nude flesh when you thought he wasn’t looking. He caught you of course.

    “You needn't be shy of staring, I know it well, how I look,” he’d said, a haughty raise of a black eyebrow flashing above his hazel eyes. “I am a work of art, they say. The king will never tire of me. After this night, you’ll see much of me here, so look all you wish.”

You had been too shy to respond. It was not your place anyway. You were just a servant girl. But his boasts were valid enough, after all, many of the nobles and courtiers desired him. The servants too. Why shouldn’t he satisfy King Lee’s appetite? He was neither dull nor plain, like many of the lovers that filtered through his royal bed. The king liked beautiful things. And Delios was the most winsome man you’d known of.

Later that night, you escorted him to the king's bedchamber and waited to be dismissed, eyes glued to the floor, head down.

 King Lee waltzed into the room and with a wave of his hand you were relieved of your duty. 

The moans started before you’d even made it down the hallway. You paused and pressed your ear against the walls. The slapping of flesh against flesh could be heard even through the wood.

"Yes my king! Fuck me. Fill me. I am yours.” Delios’ breathy pleas and mewls spilled into the corridors, echoing in your head as you made your way to your quarters. 

Above your bed was the servant’s bell. You glanced at it, content in the knowledge that it would not ring tonight. Delios would keep the king busy well into the morning, and perhaps even the next night. You closed your eyes and welcomed sleep.

But short hours later, the shrill sound of its ringing woke you.

You sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed, slipping the servant’s uniform over yourself.

King Lee’s back faced you as you entered his chamber, broad and like the cream of ivory. Delios was nowhere in sight.

“Remove these sheets, bring new ones,” he ordered.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied. And then without thinking you said, “Delios? Was he not pleasurable?” Your breath caught in your throat as your sleep stupid brain registered what you’d just done. The king whipped around to glare at you. He would be well within jurisdiction to flog you for insolence. His gaze flitted over you, lingered on your face, then trailed down to your uniform. You wanted to kick yourself.

“Not only have you spoken out of turn. But you come to me in ill attire?”

You wrinkled your brow.

“Sir?”

“Your uniform. It is on backwards.”

You flushed in shame, heat rising in your eyes.

“I am sorry, please. It was—”

“Take it off.”

Shock and silence merged to form your panicked expression.

“But my lord I—”

“I will not say it again.” The king fixed his brown eyes on you, burning you through with their intensity. He had never looked at you before— never saw you as he did now. His intent gaze had you shivering.

You stripped and he regarded you for a moment. Decided he liked what was before him.  His hands were on you in an instant, kneading circles against your breasts. He bent and suckled one.

You gasped.

“My l-lord. You mustn’t—”

“Do not presume to command me. You are a servant. Are you not?”

A sheepish nod.

“I am.”

“Then serve me. With your body. For it pleases me—lowly though it may be. Is it not your duty? Your wish?”

Another nod. Your words couldn’t quite find their way out. The king smirked then, plump lips parting in ridicule. You pressed a kiss into them, unable to resist their plush temptation. 

Quickly you drew back, panting and somehow even more shy than you had been. But the king smiled and granted you his tongue. It swirled first along the bud of your nipple, cries escaped you as it puckered under the wet muscle.

King Lee lifted you, transferring your willing body onto his bed and spreading you. He tasted your slick, launching hard sucks around your bundle of nerves.

You could not hold back your whimpers. He paused and looked up at you.

“Do you want more?”

Again all you could manage was a nod.

“Whoever heard of a needy servant girl,” he chided, still licking you, “Very well then, open wider for me, darling.”

You lost count of the hours—of the orgasms. All from his mouth alone. When he had his fill, he flipped you over. The strokes were deep and glorious. The stretch of them sent your eyes rolling back.

“A needy servant with a needier cunt. Tell me, do you like being filled by your king?” A hard slap on your bare cheeks galvanized you to answer.

“Yes!” you cried, still in half disbelief the noble king was bedding you— a lowly servant.

He flipped you onto your back, thrusting into you, eyes holding you in a trance. The roll of his hips drew out your spray. His rhythm was unrelenting and the hot stream of it drenched the king's sculpted abdomen. He pulled out and watched you tremble with the high, rubbing circles onto your clit, drawing out every bit of your release.

“Look at you, fucked to ruins already. I’ve hardly even begun,” he taunted. All you could do was tremble and shudder.

“Please, my lord. No more. I can’t.”

“You can’t?” he echoed, laying beside you, smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I cannot come again. I will pass out. It has been all night.”

“So it has,” he thumbed your bottom lip, biting down on his own. “Well, there is always tomorrow night.”

[miowritings]

HIHI, this is my first request ever so i hope im doing it right- could i have a reader who’s really impulsive when their tired or sleepy, like their too tired to care about what they say. then their laying on their crush’s lap and they suddenly cup their face and start complimenting and admiring them then confess and swhhrcbjsscc preferably written with akito, minori and whoever u like!!! (sorry if this was too detailed.) TY <3

A/N: omgg, this is soo cute😭🩷‼️ im actually like that irl but instead of compliments i say random sht? Anywayzz here ya go and i hope you like em🫶

Sudden confession

Gn! Reader x akito shinonome & minori hanasato (akito might be ooc...)

Minori Hanasato

You were laying in minori's lap after a hard day, you could finally visit your best friend and feel relaxed. Minori brushes your hair with her fingers and proceeds to talk about her day

"We had lots of fun today! Airi is teaching me this choreography of this one song i like! We're planning on-"

Minori pauses herself, wondering why you suddenly out a strand of her hair behind her hair

"Hm? You know i could do that myself right?" She says playfully, you smiled at her playfulness and began telling her how you feel, you werent sure why, you just did..

"Minori, i love you, more than friends.. hehe" y/n says playfully before falling asleep, leaving minori in a state of shock, confusion and happiness

"W-WHAAAT?! Y/N! WAKE UP! DONT J-JUST FALL ASLEEP!" Minori screams, shaking you to hopefully wake you up, she also wants to tell you that she feels the same way

Akito Shinonome

You just got home after school and the sun was begining to set, you sat on your bed playing your phone and doing nothing, you then decided to do your homework.

Once you opened your bag you see that your notebook was nowhere to be found, you panicked a bit, the deadline was tomorrow and the notebook was nowhere to be seen, you suddenly remembered that a certain close friend of yours borrowed it to take some notes, you then proceed to call him.

"Hey, kito.. where's my notebook? Do not tell me you left it at school..." You asked, you could hear akito groaning "chill i accidentally put it on my bag, ill just.. return it tomorow" he shruggs, you sighed in annoyance and began to tell him that you needed that notebook to finish some assigments.

"If you want that notebook then just, come to my place.. i mean.. we live pretty close right? Youre just.. right around the corner.." he suggested "what?! No way! Im not walking, you brought my notebook with you, you should be the one to return it.!" You fought back, making sure to emphasize your words.

"Well.. then im not giving it to you, bye" akito says in a sing-song voice "w-wait! Ugh.. fine ill get it.. dont copy my homework tomorow kay?" You added, akito groaned "fine, finee.."

After minutes of walking you knocked the door of the shinonome household, you were greeted with akito, wearing pajamas and carrying a bag of chips, he coughed when seeing you "o-oh you actually came.. yeah uh.. the notebooks right in my bag.. ill go get it" he responded when he left, you could see the tv playing, it was your favorite movie! When akito came back he saw you staring at the television.

"Hm? You know this show too? Hm.. wanna watch it with me?" He asks, before he knows it you were already inside his house watching the television. You wondered.. why werent his parents home? and where was his sister?

"Hey akito, wheres your dad? Or your sis?" You ask, akito simply shrugged and replied nonchalantly "my sister doing something at her room...probably drawing or talking to her friends.. my mom's out with her friends and my dad is staying late for work" you simply nodded and continued watching the movie, soon enough you found yourself falling asleep, akito doesnt notice this but begins to notice when it suddenly got too quiet..

"Hm.? Y/n you alright- oh hell no.." he mutters, you were sleeping peacefully, akito wants to wake you up.. but at the same time.. he doesnt afterall he did drag you out in the middle of the night just for you to get the notebook that he stole, akito sighs and puts a pillow below your head, he sighs and whispers ".. what did i get myself into.." you shuffle around and mutter quietly "mm.. like... You too... Kito.." you mutter, akito overhears this and instantly turns red.

"Y-YOU WHAT?!" He screams and instantly covers his mouth, you groaned a bit and continued sleeping, akito was surely thankful that you were a heavy sleeper. "Oh thank god..." He sighs with relief ".. i like you too dumbass.. took you long enough.." he says quietly with a tone of playfulness. He arranges your sleeping position so that your comfortable.

Bonus:

Akito sneakily took your phone and then took a pic of your sleeping face and sets it as your wallpaper "theyre gonna love it.." he grins mischievously, after hours you finally wake up, you grabbed your notebook and quietly leave the house, when you checked what time it is you went red with embarrassment it was a pic of yourself sleeping! You'll surely get him next time.!