#sowwy this took a long time to answer

[mychlapci]

i’m so fucking glad you understand my vision for petplay dominus with the rest of the djd. like, i have not stopped thinking about them for a second bc like, dominus as a beloved beast of the world’s worst group of assholes lives in my heart and soul rent free. 

like, he’s never been allowed to fully accept or cherish his altmode bc of functionalist cybertron and it’s horrible shittyness. he’s always thought of it as a burden not an asset and he’s done his best pretty much all his life to hide it away from the people he knows

but the djd didn’t just tolerate his altmode, they fucking loved it. helex loves scratching him behind the ears, stroking along his spine with one set of arms and lightly brushing his tail fur with the other. tesarus lets him clamber up past his grind chamber to sit on his shoulders even if he’s busy doing stuff. kaon had always cooed about how cute his altmode was before he became the pet but now the affection and baby talk has turned all the way up to 110%. the vos who replaced him speaks to him in primal vernacular and even if dominus had a hard time understanding him, he’s assured by an observing tarn that vos is just praising dom for his impeccable hunting skills. 

he feels so surrounded by love and affection and it’s just so easy for him to completely forget about his original mission when he’s being pampered by his new group of lovers. 

okay that was a lot of sappy shit but now for the horny 

i have a thing for size difference and i can’t get the image of helex forcing dom down onto his massive spike while stroking his ears and tugging on his tail all while dom is wearing a muzzle and a vocalizer inhibitor and he can only make animalistic whimpers and whines as the big spike forces his callipers wide open. i bet they get stretched so much that there’s a 50% chance that they just straight up snap and helex keeps fucking him through the pain and dom can only squeal and yelp and whimper pathetically until his pussy gets flooded with hot, thick transfluid. 

kaon and him definitely do some kind of predator/prey dynamic thing. normally kaon is the one holding the leash, the one giving the orders but sometimes he’ll have tarn arrange a scene where he gets chased through the wilderness of some random planet. maybe his modesty panel gets removed and tarn has dom shove his snout into kaon’s pussy to get a good whiff of kaon’s scent before he gets a head start to run off into the woods. hrhrhrngh just the idea of dom in his altmode tackling a panting, drooling and positively soaked kaon before mounting him like a bitch in heat really gets me going. like kaon’s valve is just barely  prepared for dom’s spike and he squeals and begs for dom to let him go, please please just let him go, he’ll do anything to not get bred by something as nasty as a beast. dom of course doesn’t listen and keeps rutting into kaon’s dripping pussy and the spines and barbs keep making kaon gush more with each trust and finally he overloads with a burst of electricity as dom’s knot slips into him. 

oh shit maybe dom has three sets of tits in his altmode. maybe tesarus (whose wiki page says he gets bored easily) likes to fiddle and grope at them when dom climbs up to sit on his shoulders. maybe he fondles them so much that dom’s tits start making thick foamy energon and now he sometimes wanders around the base whimpering and whining bc his tits are so sore and full and the rest of the team is out and about and he just can’t bear the aches anymore. oh even better maybe tesarus keeps lapping at his sore nipples to get more energon out and dom keeps scrambling to get away but those extra clamps on his back keep dom firmly in place and when he finally leaves to go get dinner poor dom’s tits are thoroughly sucked dry and covered in bruises and bite marks. 

hmmm dom fucking vos’ face with his spike, not his mouth but his weird freaky eyeholes behind the mask. or kaon’s eyesockets, both are good.

(sending this in again bc i need to know your thoughts about this)

-burnt ice anon

ghrhh I love DJD doing fucked up sex shit, you must understand. Any porn of Dominus knotting Kaon is my lifeblood. He should shove his barbed spike so deep into Kaon that he’s the one squealing like an animal… I honestly want him to fuck Kaon's empty eye sockets and knot them, staying stuck to his face while his spike jerks and twitches, knot trapping hot transfluid in the broken socket <33 

Dominus with six titties that get assaulted constantly is so hot. mhmmm I want him squealing at Kaon's feet, titties swollen and leaking as he begs to be milked… I think the rest of the DJD likes to see him whining and desperate, so they rarely ease his ache, unless they want a drink of course. They always leave his titties completely bruised in the end <33

[psin314]

Hi, I saw that you don’t currently, but do you think you might ever do commissions? I love your art style. My friend just showed me a bunch of it and you work is incredible. Thanks for your time!

actually i'm planning on opening comms soon! just need to figure out some things (like payment, prices etc..). so stay tuned. also thank you!!

anyway how much do you think should a pic from me (for example my last silly drawing with shep and garrus) cost? 🤔

[steveslevis]

i love you, it’s ruining my life

azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 3 of 3

summary: you finally start to recover from the attack at Windhaven, but struggle with the ghost of your suppressed mating bond.

warnings: mentions of injury and assault self-deprecation, use of painkillers, two idiots in love, lots of angst <3

word count: 9.6k (sowwy <333)

Three weeks, four days and thirteen hours. 

That’s how long Azriel stayed away from the House of Wind, from Velaris, to give you space and time to heal. 

He would’ve stayed away longer if it hadn’t been for Rhys’ incessant questioning ringing through his mind while he wasted the days training with the soldiers in Windhaven. The soldiers that were left after he and Cassian had banished–or taken care of–the ones who had planned to rebel with Cormac and Balvard. 

He would’ve stayed forever in Windhaven, as a punishment to himself for everything he’s put you through by pretending you didn’t even exist for the last four fucking centuries. 

But he couldn’t. 

Rhys demanded his presence at dinner tonight, telling him that he would have to face this–face you–eventually. Azriel knew that, that he would have to face you. He could handle seeing you again to make sure you were safe once more, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle seeing the fake glare you’d put on at dinner when you looked his way. 

Truly, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to be in the same room as you right now, because he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself from telling you to wipe that fake hatred right off your face, from grabbing you by the neck and kissing you in front of everyone, just like he’d wanted to for the last four fucking centuries. 

Still, he swallows his feelings and keeps the shadowy wall up around his heart as he heads to the Townhouse, mentally preparing himself to pretend as if he doesn’t know that you, of all people, are his mate. 

——————————————————————

Three light knocks on your bedroom door signaled that your brother was on the other side, causing you to hum in response, to which he took as an invitation into the room. 

You looked up from your spot on the bed, your thumb wedging between the pages of the book you were immersed in seconds before while you searched for your bookmark that was lost somewhere between your comforter and the fluffy white throw you had laid over your legs. 

“You’re disrupting my reading time,” you say to your brother with a glare, finally finding the bookmark you’d been searching for to shove it into your book, “I was just getting to the good part.” 

“Well, too bad, your disgusting romance novel can wait.” Cassian says with a grimace, pushing the door open to lean against the frame while glaring back at you, “it’s time for dinner. At the Townhouse.”

A groan falls from your lips at his words, making you shake your head as you toss the book onto the bedside table next to the other books Nesta had lent to you in the last few weeks to keep you from driving yourself insane while bedridden. 

“Do I have to?” you say with a frown, forcing your legs over the side of the bed to stand, since you already know the answer to your own question.

Cassian is at your side in an instant as you stand from the bed, making you shoot him another glare when he grabs your forearm to help you up.

“I can stand on my own, y’know.” you snap, shrugging out of his grip as you walk across the room to put on your shoes, “It’s been three, almost four, weeks now for God's sake.”

“Okay, okay fine.” your brother says, throwing his hands up in defeat as you walk across the room with ease. “Just hurry up, we’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.” 

You bite your tongue to hold back from throwing another snide remark his way, quickly sliding into the shoes you’d toed off earlier in the day. Dread filled your chest as you turned back to Cassian, slowly realizing that you’d be–well, Cassian would be–flying to the Townhouse for dinner. 

The thought of being unable to fly yourself to the home across town makes you feel so empty and detached, like you’re no longer deserving of your spot in the Night court or the Inner Circle. You weren’t sure you could even use your daemati powers anymore to be honest, you’d been so drained mentally and physically that you hadn’t even tried. 

You felt so useless and alone and sad and so fucking worthless–

“Hey,” Cassian’s voice interrupted your thoughts, his elbow nudging your forearm lightly as he peers down at you, a smile–one that you can tell is forced–on his face, “you ready?”

You knew he wanted to say more, to tell you to get out of your own head, but held back for the risk of starting an argument. So you only smile up at him and nod, shoving your feelings down as you walk towards the balcony of your room, letting your brother take the lead as he takes to the sky. 

The wind against your skin is such a freeing feeling that you nearly forget that your wings aren’t the ones carrying your own body, but Cassians’. The crisp evening air nips at your cheeks as you fly over Velaris, as if the city is welcoming you home after so long stuffed in the House of Wind. A genuine smile crosses your face for a moment during the short flight, heart fluttering as you let the wind welcome you. 

The trip is over just as quickly as it started, and you’re being set down on the steps of the Townhouse before you even realize it. 

There’s a lone tear trailing down your cheek as Cassian sets you down, causing him to frown at you when he notices. 

“Soon, Y/N.” is all he says, smoothing your wind-blown hair down before turning to push the front door open.

Once again you’re forced to push your emotions down, to put on a weak smile as the two of you walk into the Townhouse. You’re greeted in the entryway by Feyre, who hugged you as if she hadn’t seen you in weeks, though she had seen you mere hours ago to drop off your favorite pastries to the House of Wind during breakfast, before pulling you towards the kitchen almost immediately, insisting you come to taste the new wine she’d bought to celebrate with before dinner. 

Before you could protest, you find yourself in the kitchen with Mor, Amren, and all three of the Archeron sisters. Mor is the first to wrap you in a hug, a grin spreads across her perfectly red lips as she pulls you in for a gentle hug. Elain follows closely behind Mor, quietly asking how you were feeling as she holds out a plate of fruit for you to choose from as she speaks. 

Nesta and Amren sit on the stools on the other side of the kitchen island, both giving you sidelong, but somewhat kind glances as they were deep in conversation. You didn’t take the cold welcome personally, as you and Nesta had become close over the last few weeks in the House of Wind, and Amren was…well, Amren. 

Feyre comes up beside you as you chat with Elain, a small and sympathetic smile on her lips as she extends a glass filled with what you can only assume to be faerie wine towards you. Your heart drops as she does, mind immediately thrown back to that moment when you were shoulder-to-shoulder with Cormac, the last time you’d drank wine. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to stomach drinking it again in all honesty. Before you can shake your head in protest, Feyre opens her mouth to speak instead.

“My special faerie wine, just for you.” Feyre says quietly enough for only you to hear, giving you an understanding look as she still extends the glass, “I didn’t think you’d feel up to drinking just yet, but I know how annoyingly incessant the males can be about celebratory drinks, so here,” you take the glass from her hesitantly, giving her a weak smile, “just some sparkling juice, I promise. There’s a whole bottle in there that I already told everyone was just for you.”

You smile at the High Lady, a sparkle of relief lighting your eyes as she reassures you. You had divulged the whole truth to her a week after the incident, letting her see into your mind to understand the extent of the damage that had been done that night in Windhaven, and even divulged a little too much about Azriel in the heat of the moment, too. She had known you felt more comfortable with her than with any man, and in that moment you were grateful Rhys had found an equally skilled mate who could help you when he couldn’t.

“Thank you, Feyre, really, this means a lot to me.” you say genuinely, pulling her back in for another hug, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill at the sentiment. 

You cursed yourself for being so emotional lately, but knew there was no stopping the inner turmoil you were dealing with unless you went straight to the source, to Azriel to finally spill your guts, which you knew wasn’t in the cards any time soon. 

You spent the next thirty minutes sharing laughs and talking about nothing in particular with Mor and Feyre, only stopping to give Elain input on the new tart she was trying to make for dessert. The empty feeling in your chest from the last three weeks in near solitude was quickly replaced by one of warmth and happiness, finally feeling at home once again in the room full of your favorite females. 

It was foolish of you to think the sentiment would last, though. You should’ve known that this wouldn’t be a normal and happy night, that you’d be faced with the one person you didn’t want to see. 

You nearly dropped the glass of sparkling juice when you pushed through the kitchen doors and into the dining room, faced with not two, but three Illyrian males at the table. They’re lost in conversation when you and Mor enter, but Azriel’s attention quickly snaps in your direction, eyes widening for such a short moment that you’re unsure if you imagine it or if they actually do. You collect yourself before turning your attention to your brother and Rhys, who both stopped talking to look over at you and the rest of the females walking through the kitchen door. 

“Finally done gossiping so we can start dinner?” Rhys suggests as you all begin to take your typical seats at the table, yours being between Cassian and Mor.

Habitual conversations begin as soon as everyone sits down, food soon appearing in front of everyone thanks to Rhys. Things feel relatively normal as you pile the food passed to you onto your own plate, unsure of how much you’ll actually eat of it as your mind wanders back into thoughts of the hazel-eyed, mysterious asshole sitting across the grand table from you. 

Every once in a while, you feel his eyes on yours as you pick at your food, as if he’s checking on you. And with every look in your direction, you feel yourself sinking into the chair beneath you, wishing for nothing more than the ability to winnow in that moment.

You felt like you’d fully regressed back to that person you were when you’d just found out Azriel was your mate, the shell of a female that it had made you was once more. You cursed the Gods for making this male have such a strong effect on you, for making you want nothing more than to be with him, to grab him by the neck and kiss him in front of everyone, just like you’d wanted to for your entire life.

But you knew better than that, knew that you had to keep up the act like you hated him as much as he hated you, knew that you would have to wait until that Gods damned bond snapped for him, however long that would take.

So you did what you did best, shooting a glare in his direction the next time you saw him looking your way, in hopes it would keep him from looking your way and make you fall even further into that shell than you already had. 

You’d already fallen so deep into that hole during your time at dinner that you barely heard when Nesta said your name, voice sounding like it was coming from miles away. 

“Sorry, Nes.” you reply, giving her a sheepish smile, “what’d you say?”

“I asked if you were ready for tomorrow?” she repeated, eyes sharp yet understanding as she looked your way.

“Oh–Yeah!” you say, a laugh falling from your lips, nodding quickly, “Of course, I’m excited to get back out there.”

“Back out where?” Cassian interjected, concern lacing his words as he turned towards you, never stopping his shoveling of the potatoes from his plate into his mouth as he spoke.

“You’re such a pig, finish eating before you talk.” you retort, shoving his shoulder with a disgusted look, “but if you must know, I’m coming to training with the Valkyries tomorrow morning.”

“Training?” your brother says with wide eyes as he drops his fork with a loud clunk onto the plate. “Like hell you are.”

“I am perfectly capable of training again, Cassian.” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He opens his mouth to make another snark, yet protective comment at your words when the world seems to stop for a moment, a humorless laugh coming from the other side of the table, coming from the male who’d been staring at you all night long. 

A laugh. He actually fucking laughed at the thought of you training.

Wide eyes from everyone at the table focus on the shadowsinger, the air seems to go still as everyone waits anxiously for the next words.

“Do you have something to say about my training, spymaster?” you nearly snarl at the male who seemed to share an equally annoyed expression with you.

“Like hell you’re perfectly capable.” he says lowly, eyes flickering to your still-healing wings at your back. “You can barely hold your own weight right now, let alone the wings at your back pulling you down and leaving you fucking limping from your back and hip pain. You wouldn’t be able to hold your own training for more than five minutes out there. You’re—You haven’t fucking healed at all. You haven’t been cleared to fly, let alone train in any capacity. It would be so damn foolish to even let you step foot out there.” Nobody dares to interrupt the male as he continues his rant, “I’m sure you’re back on those damn pain killers too, considering you can’t even feel—”

“Azriel—“ Rhys’ voice comes out in a quiet warning as he shoots his brother a glare, knowing exactly where he was going with his next sentence.

Everyone else at the table continues to stare at Azriel, seeing through the facade to see a love-sick and extremely worried male. You, on the other hand can only feel anger radiating off the male, can only feel spiteful words being spewed your way.

“No, Rhys.” you say with a bitter smile, blinking back the tears that are threatening to fall from your shimmering eyes, “let him continue, he obviously knows what’s best for me.”

The table is silent at your watery retort, even the previously fuming Azriel grounded by the tears in your eyes.

It hits him like a wall of bricks then, all the regret he had for the foolish rampage he had begun to slip into. His chest nearly caves in as he takes in the scene in front of him, how broken you looked as stared back at him, he could feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off you.

He opens his mouth to backtrack, to apologize, to take back the venom that just spewed from his lips and toward you, toward his fucking mate. But words fail him now, unsure of how he can make it any better at this moment.

“Tell me, Azriel.” you muse bitterly, “do you think it would just be better for me to follow the true Illyrian customs then? Should I have let Cormac and Balvard clip my wings? Should I have let Ci–”

Now Rhys cuts you off with a warning growl, knowing you were about to expose your tragic past in ways you’d regret as soon as they’d fall from your lips. 

“No, no.” Azriel shakes his head rapidly at your words, blinking quickly, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Like hell I did,” you scoff, pushing your chair from the table loudly, tossing your napkin onto the tabletop before excusing yourself.

Azriel knew better than to follow you, knew it wouldn’t end well if he tried to.

You sat on the couch near the fireplace only one room over from everyone, listening to their low conversations. Listening as Cassian scolded Azriel, telling him how stupid he was for trying to push you too soon, and how he needed to give you time and space. The wording of your brother’s scolding confused you slightly, but you didn’t care. You only cared about the hollowness that crept back into your chest, the empty feeling from where you couldn’t feel that unrequited bond anymore, likely from the painkillers that dulled any magic within you. So you let your silent tears flow, let yourself cry over the man who you had convinced yourself could never love you, let yourself drift into a sad sleep on the couch, the warmth of the fireplace inviting you into a dreamless state.

Unsure of how much time had passed, you awoke to the feeling of weight on the other side of the loveseat you sat on and a dark breeze passing over your neck, the caress of a shadow over your skin. 

Your eyes flutter open and Azriel’s heart almost breaks at the state of you. Your wings are tucked behind you tightly as if you were ashamed of them, eyes glossy from the remnants of sleep and tears, lips full and red from trying to bite back the sobs that threatened to escape before you let sleep take you in. The look you give him is one of confusion at first, but quickly turns to one of frustration then anger at the sight of the male in front of you.

He tries with everything in himself to reach out to you, to your soul, to tell you he’s there, but he can’t get through that haze in between the two of you put up by those painkiller tonics Madja gave you. She’d explained to him that you wouldn’t know that the bond had snapped for him until you were completely off the tonics, your magic was restored to its full power and he willingly uncovered his side of the bond to you. So he would wait, would try his hardest to befriend you and make you realize that he never hated you until that moment actually comes when you feel the snap. 

“Before you try to kill me–and rightfully so–” he starts, pushing his hand out in front of you, holding a plate of the tart Elain had made for dessert out to you, “I come with a peace offering, your favorite.”

You narrow your eyes at him, hesitant to take the plate from him at first. But there’s a pleading and truly apologetic look in his eyes, one that makes you give in almost immediately. You take the plate from him finally, gaining a small smile from the shadowsinger that makes your heart skip a beat, though you don’t let it show. 

Azriel watches as you take the first bite wordlessly, watching your features soften as you let out a soft groan, mumbling about how good it is.

“How would you know berries are my favorite?” you question finally, setting the fork back on the plate after another bite.

“You and Cass, you’d always give him your melons and he’d give you his berries at breakfast in Windhaven–” Azriel says, cutting himself off when he sees you wince at the mention of the camp, frowning as he speaks, “s–sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head.

“No–no. I’m sorry, for everything.” he replies, sitting up straighter on the couch to sit face-to-face with you. “For being an ass when you said you work alone, for doubting your abilities, for–for acting like you don’t exist for the last four and a half centuries.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you say with a sad smile, sinking back into the shell of self-doubt you’d grown accustomed to, “I get it, you don’t want anything to do with me.”

“I–That’s anything but true.” Azriel says, shaking his head quickly, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown. “I know I acted like that but–I want to know you. I want to get to know you and be your friend. I just–just never knew how to approach you.” 

Truthfully, he wants to say that he never knew how to approach you without giving in to his desires and without telling you how much he needs you in every way, shape and form. 

You look up to him, weary eyes meeting his hazel ones in a curious gaze. You’re unsure if you truly believe him or not, but the look in his eyes seems sincere so you stay silent for now, willing him to continue. 

“I wanna make it all up to you,” he suggests, gauging your reaction as you continue to eat the tart. “I wanna train you, wanna help you get back to being the warrior that you were before everything happened. I can work with Madja too, to make sure that you’re healing properly and not over-exerting your wings. I can help you–”

“Why would you wanna help me now?” you interject quietly, still not believing that he actually wants to help you after essentially calling you incapable less than an hour ago, “did–did Rhys put you up to this? Did Cassian–”

“No, nobody put me up to this.” Azriel starts, shaking his head quickly, “I shouldn’t have said all those things back there, I was just worried. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore than you already are.”

You stare at the male for a long moment, searching through those amber eyes for any notes of deception but find none. Your heart tugs for his, trying to feel him through the obsidian smoke and gray haze between your souls, but there’s nothing, no tug in return, for now. The logical, and traumatized, part of your brain is screaming at you to run from the Illyrian male in front of you and never look back. But the romantic, and bonded, part of your heart is screaming at you to take anything he’ll give you, to trust him endlessly.

You were never one to listen to logic, anyways. 

“Fine.” you say finally, narrowing your eyes at him. “We start tomorrow. If you don’t think it’s good for me to train with the Valkyries yet then I’ll come after they leave in the morning.”

“You’ve got a deal.” Azriel says, smiling wider than you think you’ve ever seen him smile, making your heart flutter as you can’t help but give an equally wide smile in return. “I’ll see you at ten.”

——————————————————————

The late morning sun beat down on you as soon as you stepped foot on the roof of the House of Wind the next morning, dressed in your fighting leathers.

You spot Cassian, Nesta and Azriel across the roof, so deep in conversation that they didn’t notice your arrival.

“Are you ready to get your ass handed to you, Shadowsinger?”

The three turn to you when you speak, the ghost of a smile on Azriel’s lips when he takes you in, taking in your raw beauty as you stand in front of him in your leathers with your beloved sword sheathed at your side, your wings hanging higher than usual as you grin excitedly over at them. Azriel swears his heart skips a beat when he takes it all in, the hope glimmering in your eyes makes him extremely grateful that he decided to shove his feelings aside to help you train. 

“Oh, you’re not doing any kind of combat today.” Cassian scoffs at you, as if he’s offended that you’d even think you were going to spar with the Shadowsinger during your training.

Your smile falls as your brother talks down to you, and almost instantly turns into a scowl directed at him.

“You aren’t training me today, so you have no say in what I do and don’t do during this session, asshole.” you snap back as you take one last step to stand in front of Cassian, shoving your finger against his chest pointedly. 

There’s an expression you can’t quite read on your brother’s face when you look up at him, but he only ignores your combative response, looking to Azriel instead. He sighs and slaps Azriel’s shoulder before mumbling ‘good luck, brother’ under his breath as he begins to walk away. Before you can question the odd interaction, he and Nesta are already making their way back into the House of Wind. You turn to Azriel then, brows furrowing as you stare at the Shadowsinger. He gives you a sympathetic look then, his eyes softening as he notes the confusion in yours.

“Don’t shoot the messenger here, but I did speak to Madja in order to see what she’s okay with you doing during these training sessions.” he starts, brows knitting together as he tries to think of how to explain the situation. “Long story short, she doesn’t think you’ll be ready for combat or flight for another month or so.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach at his words, disappointment settling in your core as you feel your throat start to constrict and tears prick your eyes. You only shake your head in disbelief, though you know deep down that you’re in no shape to even think about sparring right now, considering your body is running off three and a half hours of sleep and an extreme amount of pain tonics. You’d been telling yourself that you were healing perfectly for the last three weeks, but it truly has been anything but perfect. 

Azriel reaches for your elbow with one hand as you take a step back in shock, concern filling his hazel eyes as he watches your internal panic.

“I know that’s not what you wanna hear today, but I promise that it’s for the best. Madja won’t clear you because she knows you have a lot of healing to do before fighting again.” Azriel interjects gently, careful with his words so he doesn’t set you off. 

“W–Well, what did she say I could do?” you say quietly as your voice strains, using all your strength to hold back from breaking down in front of him. You don’t have the energy to argue with him about it, to tell him that you’re fine. You want to scream and cry and fight him, but you know it’s no use. 

“She suggested that we try some of the exercises that we use during initial flight lessons in the camps, as physical therapy in a way.” he says, and you can tell he doesn’t like the thought of doing that based on the tone of his voice.

“Like–doing the exercises we teach the children when they’re learning how to fly?” you retort, brow furrowed as you mull over the suggestion. “That–That’s ridiculous. I’m five centuries old for fucks sake, I will not be treated like a damn child–”

Your eyes are squeezed shut in frustration as you speak, so you don’t see Azriel’s hands reach up to cup your cheeks, only feel it as you start your angry spiel, but it’s jarring enough to stop you in your tracks. Your eyes fly open at the featherlight touch, looking up to see the Shadowsinger staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. 

“I can’t let you get hurt, I–I can’t let you do something you’ll regret for the rest of your life.” he says once he’s got your attention, “You can’t fly right now, you’re still healing. I know Madja has you on bone-mending medications and is giving you tendon repair salve every damn day and I know you should not strain your wings with anything other than light physical therapy right now. I know how much flying means to you and I know you don’t want to be treated like a child but please.” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper as he stares down at you, “Please, just let me help you heal, let me show you that I want to help you and that I’ve never hated you. A–And once you’re healed, once Madja clears you for flight and combat, we will do anything you want.”

There’s a sense of urgency in Azriel’s voice as he pleads his case, his hands firm against your cheeks as he stares down at you with an intensity that you’ve never seen from him before. He looks desperate, broken even. Little do you know, he’s tugging with all his might on his side of the clouded bond, silently hoping that you’ll feel him if he pulls hard enough, though it doesn’t work. You search his eyes for any signs of dishonesty, for any ill intent, but find none, so you sigh.

“Fine,” you finally say, forcing yourself to stay composed in front of the male as you step back and out of his grasp, though the feeling of his touch lingers on your cheeks as though he’s still grazing them. “Let’s get started, then.” 

Azriel’s shoulders sag in relief, surprised that you give in without much of a fight. Truthfully, you’re too mentally exhausted to even think about protesting, too tired of being kicked down every time you get your hopes up. So in the moment you choose to lower your expectations and tell yourself that you don’t deserve to fly anymore after being too damn stupid to see the attack coming, that you have to earn your wings back, that you might never earn your wings back if things go poorly. 

“Right,” he says with a nod as he stands up a little straighter, trying to stay serious as you look at him expectantly, “we can start with some simple things, like wing-lifts and getting your back and shoulders back into shape with a few different workouts.”

——————————————————————

Your training sessions with Azriel carry on for weeks, spending every single morning together after the Valkyries leave their training sessions. Sometimes you’ll see Gwyn or Emerie with Nesta when you make it up there a little early. There’s always an ache in your chest when you see the females, desperate to get better so you can just fucking train with them finally.

But you push your feelings aside and train with Azriel, pushing yourself past the point that you knew you should, but you couldn’t help it. Azriel always asked if you were okay to train, he genuinely could never tell, since you’d become almost completely unreadable after the incident.

Your body ached after every session, joints sore and wings aching, but you didn’t care. You needed to get better, you needed to get strong again and never let anything or anyone get to you in any way ever again. 

Though you were with the shadowsinger every single day, he felt as though he wasn’t making any progress with getting to know you or making you open up to him. His heart ached with longing after every training session, when you’d simply mumble a ‘thanks’ to him and make your way back to your bedroom at the House of Wind. He would try to joke with you, try to make conversation with you, hell, he’d even try to tug on that damn bond as hard as he could, but he could never seem to get through to you. So, he gave you space, gave you time, gave you what he thought you wanted from him instead of what he wanted. 

His desires could wait until you were off the pain tonics and could finally feel him reaching out to you.

Since you couldn’t be sent on any missions until you were off the pain tonics that suppressed your daemati skills, you had all the free time in the world. Any time not spent training your body, you spent training your mind. Though you didn’t have the ability to use your powers, you could still waste the days away with your nose buried in books about how to hone your skills and how to strengthen your mental shields. 

Everyone in the Inner Circle notices you reverting back to the shell of a person that you were when you initially found out that you were mated to Azriel, but this time was different. You were even quieter, kept to yourself even more, and they could all tell that you beat yourself up over every little thing you’d do wrong. Cassian tried to call you out on it one time when you were in the living room with him, Rhys and Feyre, but soon swore to never mention your new behavior again after you threatened to destroy him with your mind once you were able to use your powers again when he inquired. 

The only one who you ever confided in about your self-loathing and hatred was Feyre, she was the only one you felt you could trust enough to talk about everything with, about the mating bond, about the wing-clipping, about it all. She made it a point to check on you almost daily after that, insisting that you spend time with her a few times a week, whether it’s only to sit in silence and read your books together at the River House or to run errands around Velaris. You’re eternally grateful for her being there for you, for her forcing you to leave your bedroom and spend time thinking about anything other than the self-deprecating thoughts you had about yourself. 

It’s almost three whole months before Madja clears you to come off your pain tonics, but warns that the first full day off of them will not be completely pain-free. 

You heed her warning and tell the Shadowsinger that you won’t be attending training the next morning, in case you’re in excruciating pain. You swear you see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes when you tell him, but the expression is gone before you can question it, and so is he, as he turns on his heels to avoid facing you as his chest aches and his stomach churns at the thought of you possibly not wanting to train with him anymore. 

——————————————————————

Azriel is woken from a dead sleep in a cold sweat, shadows skittering nervously around his head as he sits up, an unfamiliar gnawing feeling eating away at his chest.

He looks around, glancing out the window to realize it’s still the middle of the night. He feels it again, that tug in his chest. It’s a feeling of agony and panic, a feeling coming from deep in his soul. It was something he’d never felt before, something so curious that he wasn’t sure how to deal with it, until the shadows came closer to his ears, whispering mate, mate, mate, in his ear.  

His heart flutters at the words, hands shaky as he pushes himself up in the bed. It’s the first time since you’d been on those painkillers that he’d been able to actually feel you through, actually reach out for you. 

He could tell you weren’t doing well by the tension on the thread between your souls, but he wasn’t sure what to do to help.

In that moment he thanked the Cauldron for fae hearing, because he heard a muffled cry of agony coming from down the hall that once again made his chest ache. Immediately he stands from bed, hastily shoving a sheathed Truth Teller into his sleep pants pocket before making his way out of the bedroom.

It nearly feels like an out-of-body experience as he rushes toward your room, mindlessly opening the door. All he can think about is helping you, making you feel better. He doesn’t even know what’s on the other side of that door, doesn’t know if you actually need help or not, but he’s ready to face whatever it is no questions asked, to help his mate. 

You’re laying on your side in the middle of your large bed when he steps in, only the moonlight flooding in from the window lighting your figure underneath the sheets. Your wings flare weakly as you squirm, small cries escaping your lips as your eyes squeeze shut. Azriel can tell you’re sleeping, and likely having an awfully realistic nightmare considering how strongly he could feel you when he woke. 

He rushes to the bed, sitting on the edge while reaching for your face. His large hands stroke your cheeks as he tugs for you through the bond, silently attempting to soothe you, willing you to wake from the nightmare.

It takes nearly a minute for you to stop thrashing in his grip, for you to finally come back to consciousness. 

You’re clammy when you wake, sweat and tears glistening over your face as your eyes flutter open. Your brow furrows when you look to see who helped you come down from the Gods awful nightmare, and it’s none other than your mate. 

Azriel gives you a gentle smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, which are shining with concern as he grasps your cheeks gently.

“There you are,” he says softly, hands finally falling from your face, “I—I wanted to make sure you were okay, heard you from across the hall.”

You stare up at the male before you for a long moment, taking in everything you can about your current situation. Azriel has one hand on your arm and the other next to your side, your faces mere inches from each other from when you sat up slightly in the bed. It’s the closest the two of you had ever been, and it took everything in you to not reach out and touch him to bring him even closer, to kiss him and never let go. 

It takes a few moments for you to fully register what’s happening. When you finally do, you sit up and push out of Azriel’s grip, embarrassment flushing through your chest as you stare at him. He stands from the bed as you sit up, something deep within him taking over and telling him you need space, and a glass of water. He knows the bond is directing his every move now, which makes his heart throb against his chest as he turns to your bedside table. There’s a carafe next to your pile of novels, which he takes in his unsteady hands to pour into the accompanying glass. 

He’s back to sitting on the edge of the bed in an instant, far enough away to give you space as you catch your breath. You take the glass of water when he offers, taking a long sip before looking back to him. When your gaze slips back to his, you become painfully aware of the very shirtless male in front of you. Your cheeks flush as your mind slips to places it shouldn’t for a millisecond, but you compose yourself quickly when his brow furrows. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” he presses, a frown on his lips as he watches you carefully.

“Y–Yeah, I did.” you breathe out, hands shaky as you raise one to run your fingers through your hair. “I guess those tonics were repressing more than just physical pain.”

“You stopped taking the painkillers?” Azriel asks, trying not to sound too excited. “Did you get cleared from Madja? Did she say it was okay?”

You nod once, wondering why he’s so invested in your consumption of pain tonics all of a sudden.

It all makes sense to Azriel then, why he could feel you so intensely after not feeling you through the bond for so long.

A rush of relief mixed with a twinge of terror flows through Azriel when you nod, realizing he has less time to mentally prepare for the truth that the two of you would have to face very soon. But it also means he’ll finally get to breathe around you, finally admit that he knows that you’re his mate, his fated lover. 

Deep down, you know it too, but are too scared to admit it at the moment.

So the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, neither sure of what to say to the other. Two cowards in love, two cowards afraid to fess up, two cowards staring the mating bond in the face but choosing to ignore it for the sake of saving their hearts. 

The silence between you is too much for Azriel, so he stands from the bed. You look up to him, eyes shining with a look that he can only describe as fearful enough to make him stop in his tracks.

You truly are disappointed when he stands, secretly wishing he’d attempt to coddle you and offer to take care of you. You curse yourself silently for letting yourself feel so much towards him in this vulnerable moment, especially after working so hard to become an emotionless wall of obsidian for the last three months. 

“I–I’m sorry for barging in, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” he stammers, watching as his shadows insist on swirling around you in a protective manner insteading of coming back to him. “If you’re really okay, I’ll just go–”

“S–Stay.” you nearly beg, eyes shimmering with tears you didn’t know were there as you stare up at him. His face flares with shock at your words, taken aback by your desperation. “I–I mean, if you don’t mind. I just–just would really appreciate the company.” you continue, feeling pathetic as you try to reel yourself back in mentally before you start sobbing in front of him.

“If you want me to, I can, I’ll keep guard for you if it makes you feel safe.” he says simply, smiling weakly at you. 

Azriel is quiet as he walks towards the desk on the other side of your room, pulling the chair to face towards the bed before sitting down. He turns to you to see your brow furrow as he sits, lips pulled into a frown. His gaze softens as you stare at him and you know you look pitiful, but can’t help the way your heart aches for him, the way your body craves his next to yours right now. 

“Are you alright?” he questions, frowning back at you as his shadows skitter around your face in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Would you–fuck.” you murmur, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Would you want to stay in the bed with me?”

He’s up in an instant, his heart working faster than his mind as he nods at you. Your own heart skips a beat as he glides over to the bed, climbing into the spot that you leave for him. He slips under the covers but sits with his back propped against the pillows, halfway sitting up as one of his wings hovers over you in a protective manner. 

You can’t help but give him a watery smile as you inch closer to where he’s sitting, looking up at him as if you’re waiting for permission to approach him. He gives you an inviting smile back, adjusting his arms so you can get as close to him as you want. You’re hesitant at first, but push past your doubts as you lay next to him, your body flush against his side as you lean your head against his warm chest. 

You try to go back to sleep, but your body is still tense against his, on edge as the nightmare you just woke up from replays in your head every time you close your eyes. Azriel’s arm relaxes at your back, his hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder gently.

“I’m here,” he says, voice barely above a whisper as he reaches down to wipe a rogue tear that slipped down your cheek. “You can sleep, you’re safe with me.”

That’s all you need to hear for your body to fully relax finally, drifting to sleep as you try not to think about the conversation you’ll have to have with the shadowsinger in the morning.

——————————————————————

Sunlight streams through the large window in your bedroom when you wake, groaning softly as you grab a pillow to cover your eyes and curse yourself internally for forgetting to shut the blinds last night. 

It takes a moment for you to realize that your bed is emptier than it was when you fell back asleep last night, the space where the shadowsinger once sat now empty next to you. You sit up in bed when you realize you’re alone, a sinking feeling in your chest as you do. 

The sinking feeling is quickly replaced by one of joy when you look to the empty side of the bed and see what he left in his place. There’s a silver tray on the bedside table next to where Azriel slept, and on top of it is a plate with an almond croissant from your favorite bakery and a cup of berries next to a glass of water and the rest of the pills and salves that Madja had you on. 

A note sits by the food that reads ‘Gone to train. Didn’t want to wake you, you looked too peaceful. Enjoy.’ 

You truly don’t stop smiling the entire time you eat, unable to fight the giddiness that you feel from the tiny act of kindness. You read over the note at least ten times, memorizing every swirl and scribble of his writing before starting to get ready for the day. 

Though there’s an ache in your wings as you stretch them when getting dressed, just like Madja had warned you about, you realize that you haven’t felt this good in months. Your chest feels lighter, mind clearer, and eyes brighter as you think about your mate. 

Mate…Mate…fuck.

Your excited mood sours when you think about the conversation that has yet to be had with Azriel. You’re almost entirely sure that he knows now, considering you’re 99.99% certain you could feel his concern for you striking down the bond last night when you woke from your nightmare. 

It takes you longer than it should to get into your leathers, but you’ve decided that you want to train, want to face Azriel this morning, want to see which of you will be the first to break. 

The sun feels more intense than normal as you make it to the roof of the House of Wind, just in time to see Azriel, Cassian, and–surprisingly–Rhys stowing their weapons away after wrapping up their own training. It’s well past the time that the Valkyries finish their daily session, so the three of them must’ve wanted to take advantage of you asking for the day off, using the hour to spar with each other instead. They’re all shirtless, likely due to the heat, so your eyes obviously drift directly to your mate as soon as you step foot onto the roof. 

He’s facing away from you, so you can see the swirls of his dark tattoos over the expanse of his back and shoulders. There’s sweat beading down his neck and you can see that his hair is slightly damp as he runs his fingers through it. Your mind wanders as you stare at him, wondering what it would be like to dig your fingers into the skin of his back while you’re under–

Your thoughts are interrupted by a lone shadow snaking around your hand as Azriel whips around, looking in your direction likely due to his other shadows alerting him to your presence. He raises a brow when he sees you in your leathers, mouth open as if he’s about to speak as you approach the trio, but he says nothing. 

“We thought you were taking the day off today,” Cassian says, stepping in for Azriel as he’s obviously at a loss for words. 

“I was supposed to be,” you start, looking down to your side to adjust the sword there as it wobbles in its sheath, “but Madja’s prediction about my pain levels after coming off of the pain tonic were wrong, I’m feeling great this morning. So, I decided to come up and train, with or without a trainer.”

Azriel doesn’t miss the way your eyes glimmer with confidence and hope as you speak to your brother, knowing that he’s not likely to try to argue with you now that you’re cleared to spar and use your powers again. It’s the happiest he’s seen you in months, and it makes his heart swell, accidentally projecting his adoration in your direction. Your smile falters as you feel a tug at your own chest, eyes flicking towards him as your heart lurches. 

As the two of you stare at each other with wide eyes, you feel a talon rake down your obsidian mental walls that you’re finally able to put up again. 

Are you alright? Rhys questions wordlessly, making you finally break your staring contest with Azriel.

Quite alright. Just ready to spar and have a very serious conversation with a specific shadowsinger, if you don’t mind giving us some privacy. You snap mentally, glaring at Rhys as he smirks at you. 

Is it finally happening? He retorts teasingly.

Not if you don’t get out of my head and off this damn roof. You bite back before slamming your mental shields back up, blocking the High Lord from teasing you anymore. 

“Well, I don’t have any urgent tasks this morning, so we can continue with training as usual if you’d like.” Azriel suggests, the faintest smile on his lips as he stares at you. 

Cassian looks between the two of you for a moment, eyes wide before taking a step back with Rhys, who leads him away before he can ruin the moment for you. He’s probably silently telling your brother what’s about to happen as they walk away, considering you hear Cassian say ‘fucking finally’ as they reach the door.

“That sounds great,” you say finally, smiling at him meekly.

The morning proceeds as usual, but you’re a little more distant than usual, and it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that he’s standing in front of you shirtless as he instructs you how to kick and punch defensively, or the fact that you just felt him tug on the bond. Yeah, it definitely has nothing to do with either of those things. 

“You’re distracted.” Azriel says matter-of-factly when you throw a half-assed punch that he easily blocks with his forearm. 

“Oh, am I?” you say sarcastically, sweat beading down your forehead as you throw another kick towards the male, though he easily pushes your leg back down. 

“Wanna talk about it? Or do you just want to punch it out?” he suggests, raising a brow as you huff in annoyance. 

“Just wanna punch it out, can’t–can’t talk about it.” you retort, shaking your head.

You’re terrified to admit what you felt earlier, terrified that he’s going to laugh in your face and tell you that he’d never want you and that you’ve been pining over him to no avail. 

“I think you can talk about it. I think you’re just scared,” he taunts, confidence rising in him as he feels your frustration and longing subconsciously projected down the bond.

“You’ll laugh at me,” you pant out, pushing down your feelings as you throw another punch. “You’ll hate me and never talk to me again if I talk about it.”

That’s when Azriel’s face drops, his hand coming up to grasp your wrist when you try to throw one last punch. He feels like he’s just been punched in the gut, like he’s the biggest asshole in the world. You truly think he hates you and that he would never want anything to do with you other than training you and being acquaintances. His heart lurches at the thought, but he keeps his composure as he looks down to you.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he insists, frowning at you. 

Your breath hitches as he maintains his light hold on your wrist, tugging you closer so you’re shielded by his wings from the sun beating down on you. 

“You–You don’t get it.” you say, voice barely audible as you fear for the worst.

You tell yourself that he’s going to want nothing to do with you after you finally say what you’ve both been feeling for the last day, that he’s going to reject the bond and never speak to you again. That’s what you’ve told yourself since the day the bond snapped for you all those years ago, so why would it be any different now?

“What don’t I get?” he implores.

He wants you to be the one to admit it, to confirm what he’s been feeling, to confirm that he isn’t delusional. He needs to hear you say it, he feels like he’s going to die if you don’t say it in the next thirty seconds to be honest.

“You can say it, tell me what I don’t get.” he coaxes, eyes glued on yours as you stare at his hand wrapped around your wrist. “I won’t laugh at you.”

You finally look up at him with that, seeing that there’s nothing but serious adoration shining in his eyes as he waits impatiently for you to speak. He’s about to explode if you don’t just fucking admit it.

“I know that you know, Azriel.” you say bluntly, frowning up at him, “I–I know that you know that I’m your Gods-damned mate, and I know that you’ve been ignoring it because you don’t want it to be true. I know you wish that anyone else in this world was your mate–”

Before you can continue your breakdown, you feel two warm hands on your cheeks, pulling you towards the male in front of you. Something wonderful blooms in your chest as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. There’s five hundred fucking years of intensity behind that kiss and it almost knocks you off your feet, but Azriel is there to wrap a strong arm around your waist to pull your body flush to his instead.

He doesn’t pull away for a while, savoring the way your lips feel against his as if it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to touch you in his life. It feels so right to be kissing you, like your bodies are made to be flush against each other, like your lips were made to mold to each other’s. 

Once he does pull away, there’s a wild look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, one you can only assume is filled with love and satisfaction. 

“I don’t know what made you think that I would hate the idea of being your mate, but I’ve been waiting five fucking centuries for this moment right here.” he says against your lips, both of your souls humming with excitement as he pulls you back in for another quick kiss. “It’s a true honor to be your mate, and I promise to make up for every moment of lost time that we had over the last five decades in any way that I can. I promise to keep you safe and never let you feel alone ever again. You’re not getting rid of me for a very long time.”

Relief washes over you at his words, though you’re unable to completely comprehend the fact that he actually wants you back. It’ll come to you eventually, so for now you push the doubt you have away in order to enjoy the moment the two of you are sharing.

“You promise?” you say, eyes shimmering with more tears, thankfully these ones are happy tears for once.

“I promise,” he retorts with a smile, “I promise to give you everything you deserve and more, okay?”

“That sounds perfect to me,” you giggle, reaching up to cup his cheeks gently as he leans into your touch. 

He grins and pulls you in for another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last, if not more. You never want him to pull away, never want to forget the feeling of his lips against yours. It feels as though time stops for a moment while the two of you stand there, soaking up all of the love shimmering through the bond between your souls.

“Hey! Finish up your love fest and get your asses inside.” you hear your brother call out from the door to the roof, wondering if he was eavesdropping this entire time, “It’s time to celebrate you two idiots finally admitting what we’ve all been waiting to happen for years.” 

Azriel chuckles against your lips one more time before pulling away, placing a kiss on your forehead before reaching for your hand. 

“You ready?” he asks gently as you intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” you retort, following him inside to begin the rest of your eternal lives, finally together. 

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[sstargirln]

❞ ᝰ .ᐟ cowboy!art donaldson x reader

based on this request :

Anonymous asked:

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

TW : use of y/n ( 1 ) , smut MDNI - oral ( f receiving ) , swearing , not proofread

word count : 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n : uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference ! and this is kinda shit im sowwy . REPOST BC LAST TIME IT FLOPPED AND IDK WHY .

choose ur own adventure type c.ai bot based on this here 

there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotch. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.' the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

¡! ❞ © sstargirln 2024

[webslingingslasher]

Hi Mm this is socks lmao, but could I request something with reader having a horrible day where everything goes wrong, nothing feels right, and she's tired of like carrying the world and everyone one else on her back and Peter is just the sweetest guy ever babying her and hold her while she cries? Yep that's me, but with no Peter

sowwy it took so long, i had a few requests for this and put them all in one giant pot. i also hope everyone here is feeling better ❤️

Totally broken, you just needed someone to hold you. 

It had been an awful day of an awful week of an awful month. Punch after punch, you couldn’t take anymore. Holding yourself the entire walk to the frat house, only allowing yourself to sniffle and keep a steady flow of tears, nothing too hysterical to pass in public. 

Almost tripping over a curb you choke back a sob, all you could do was manually breathe and think of the path to the house. You weren’t even sure why you wanted to go there anyways, you’d never gone to Peter before all upset and choked up. 

And knowing him, he’d hate it and send you away informing you that taking care of your crying mess wasn’t in his job description. 

Focusing on breathing, you knocked at the solid door and prayed Peter would answer, save for any of his brothers mid breakdown. But, like most of today and this week, things did not go in your favor. 

“Trouble?”

He wasn’t your boy. 

“Is Peter here?” shoddy breaths, you’re about to collapse in a sob, you shouldn’t be here. “Actually, nevermind, I’m,” you inhale sharply, tears skip down your cheeks, “I’m, um, gonna go home.” 

Spinning on your heel a warm hand closed around your wrist tugging you inside, “no, you’re not. Parker would fucking kill me if I let you leave like this.” Wiping your cheeks and trying to pull away, “he wouldn’t want to deal with me, I should…” shaking his arm off and trying to make a dash before he caught you by the hood of your jacket. 

Gagging you pull at the neckline, “what the fuck, Ethan?” 

“Parker!” He calls up the stairs, adrenaline killing your tears, trying to pull away but useless in his grip. Jerking the fabric, trying to release it from his hold, “let go, Ethan!” 

“Parker!” Wincing at the shriek in your ear, “see? He doesn’t care, I sho-” 

Your shoes squeak on the floor, holding your jacket as far as you could from your neck when Ethan dragged you across the landing of the house, fumbling into his chest to stop the tension. He was being anything but gentle, raising his fist to pound at the wall. 

“Parker! Get the fuck down here!” 

While trying your last attempt to break free, Ethan twists the hood in his hold, causing you to pause in an awkward position, if you moved you’d be choked. “Ethan, I swear to fucking god I’ll-” 

“Park-” 

Stomps on the stairs.

“Say my fucking name one more time, Keznek, I fucking dare you.” 

Like a deer in headlights, you freeze. The second Peter hits the landing his frustration was washed into concern, not even caring his brother and best friend was watching, pouting all soft. You weren't crying anymore but the evidence showed, written all over your face was a cry session.

“My baby,” feathersoft, his words scooped you up and held you. Ethan’s hand dropped the second Peter took a second step, abandoning post and taking the stairs two steps at a time. Standing in front of you, his thumbs run under your eyes, “why’s my girl so sad, hm?” 

Suddenly, that lump in your throat you’ve been swallowing won’t stay down. Blinking fast trying to stop tears, which fails useless as your bottom lip trembles and he’s being so soft and he’s never been this comforting before. A sob escapes, the dam breaks. 

Peter’s never seen you cry before, you’ve called him once before while upset and he thought that hurt him. Watching you cry and desperate for air makes him break, he’s never had a girl come to him so broken. He doesn’t even know what to do or say, “give me a cuddle, c’mon, I know how happy that makes you!” 

Instantly you’re wound around him, exhaling shaky breaths in his chest while he scratches slowly at your back. Tears bleed through his shirt but he doesn’t say a word, he thinks he might be making it worse because you’re getting worse. 

Racking breaths made him push you away, he was genuinely scared you’d pass out. 

“Okay, c’mon. Take a breath and follow me, okay?” Choking as you gasp, his hand holds yours tight until you reach a room off the kitchen, Peter sits on the edge of a couch and holds your hands. “Deep breath, baby.” You try to do it but fail, whimpering an apology. “I’m not asking you to stop crying, I just need you to breathe.” 

It’s weak but he takes it, “one more for me,” it’s smoother this time, rubbing at an eye to clear your vision. Gulping, you force yourself to take another deep breath, this one ceasing the tears for the moment. 

Peter pushes himself backwards to sit on the couch, patting the small spot next to him you follow the command. Your butt in the small space, legs thrown over his lap. “You almost knocked yourself out, trouble.” 

He’s trying to lighten the mood but you just feel vulnerable and sad, resting your cheek on his shoulder you sniff. Voice breaking at the words, “I’m really sad, petey.” And fuck, he hates that nickname, but the way you uttered it, like a child with a terrible confession, made him want to hold you and never let you leave. 

Hands tickle up and down your legs, “wanna tell me why?” 

Blowing a shaky breath you shug, a tear falls when you blink. 

“I mean, everything?” To Peter, it sounds like you’re holding back and he won’t stand for it, not until he knows what made his girl cry like that. 

“I’m here for you to unload, I’m trying to take that,” he gestures to your body, “and put it here,” crumpling the tension into a ball and forcing it into his heart. 

“I failed my math test, I was fired from the campus store, Zoe and Lana are fighting and they want me to pick a side but I know they’ll get over it and then I’ll always be the asshole that chose a side, and to top it all off my sister called me and I felt like it was my job to give relationship advice cause,” you give a dry laugh, “obviously, I’m in the right position to tell people about their shit boyfriend.” 

A shit sandwich, you were right. Everything was wrong. 

“What can I do for you?” 

Because he feels helpless, but he’s done more than enough already. 

“Just… hold me.” 

“I can do that.” 

And he does, even a little longer after you said you were finally okay. 

[x0llaz]

Ghosting

Sungchan x Reader

ANGSTTTTTT SOWWY, fluff at the end, hurt comfort, self doubt, burnout, mentions of twilight

WC: 3k

pt 3 of my lil sungchan series. pt 1, pt 2

YN assumed that all was well in her relationship- situationship? Flirtationship?- the two had gone on their second official date, and hung out plenty of times beside then. She thought she and sungchan were doing great, until he stopped answering his texts. 

They had just seen each other before then- he took her out to dinner and bought them milkshakes. He had spent the night in her apartment, as he had grown used to doing, and they fell asleep playing video games on her couch. He had left the morning after after giving her a kiss on the cheek and saying ‘Talk to ya’ later, cutie’

The first day, YN assumed it must be he’s away from his phone- he doesn’t have to respond right away, and she didn’t need him to. 

But when another day passed, and then another, YN became skeptical. She began to criticize herself for texting him the usual good morning/good night texts when she got no response. Whe texted him asking if he was alright, but got no response. She asked him if he was going to a party Yunjin had invited her to, but her message was never read. She kept trying, but kept getting nothing. She felt pathetic. 

Eventually the days turned into a week, and still no word from sungchan. It confused her- they had been so close for weeks before, why drop her now? A week turned into two weeks, and YN felt herself lose her will to keep trying. Too many texts left on delivered, too little communication to justify her continuing to text a ghost. 

Had she done something wrong? She wracked her brain for anything she could’ve done to offend him, or make him upset, but couldn’t think of anything. She wondered if maybe he was talking to someone else or… maybe he just wasn’t interested anymore. 

She thought about their times together, their first date that was so perfect she almost thought she dreamed it. Kissing him when he showed up at her door, or when they’d snuggle up on her couch and watch movies they never really paid attention to. It all left her wondering what happened. Why was sungchan suddenly MIA?

She just felt… useless. 

YN decided to go out as a pick-me-up. Yunjin walked at her side, knowing of her struggle with sungchan, and more than willing to help her get her mind off things. Regardless of what was going on in YN’s mind, Yunjin was always a great pick-me-up.

“I mean we could go to a party tonight?” She suggested. 

“You know I hate parties,” YN rolled her eyes. 

“We wouldn’t stay long, plus, it’s a mostly girls party. It’s kind of exclusive,” Yunjin wriggled her eyebrows. 

“I’ll let you know if I want to go,” YN replied, her arms locked with Yunjin. 

“Well we gotta do something to get your mind off of sungchan,” 

“Pffft, it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. I’m fine, I promise,”

“It certainly hasn’t seemed like it.” Yunjin watched YN tilt her head to the side. “You seriously haven’t realized you’ve been mentioning him non stop for days?”

YN paused for a moment. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” she mumbled. 

“Oh, it’s bad bad. You can’t stop talking about it.”

YN looked down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, now feeling too exposed for how she had been really feeling.

Yunjin paused her steps, looking over to her friend. “Oh, no, don't apologize! It’s okay, I understand why,”

“I just feel bad, I really didn’t realize how much it was on my mind,” YN explained, staring at the pavement below her. 

“It’s okay, really,” Yunjin assured her. “It just makes me sad seeing you so sad over a man,” She shrugged, squeezing YN’s arm reassuringly.

“I really liked him though… and I thought…” She trailed off, sighing and shaking her head. 

“And that’s normal. It’s okay to be sad about stuff like this.” Yunjin told her. “Now perk up, cutie, We’ve got a weekend to waste, and a man to forget about.” 

The Two walked around the market, looking at handmade goods, and fresh pick fruits and veggies. For a while, YN began to let her mind wander from Sungchan. She enjoyed her time with Yunjin, joking around and talking about drama that had been going on in recent weeks. It was easy to forget about things when she was with Yunjin, it was easy to forget all her sorrows. 

They heard something from the distance, and perked up once more when they realized there was someone calling their names. 

“Is that them? Yunjin? Yunjin!” someone shouted from the distance, weaving through the crowd. “It is them!” He called, tugging someone behind them. “YN, Yunjin!” They recognized shotaro at a distance, smiling and waving at them. YN froze when she saw who was right beside him. 

Jung Sungchan. The man who had been ghosting her for two weeks. 

YN turned to Yunjin, her anxiety clear on her face. “You’ll be okay,” Yunjin whispered, keeping their arms interlocked. 

YN watched as the two of them approached, and almost immediately locked eyes with Sungchan. She stood there staring at him before tearing her gaze away and looking at the ground. WHen she looked up, Sungchan stood at a closer distance, a smile on his handsome face as he looked at her, holding his hand up in a friendly wave. If he hadn’t been ghosting her for weeks, her heart would’ve melted, she probably would have swooned. But alas, she was in no mood to swoon. 

“Hey guys!” Shotaro greeted cheerfully. “It’s good to see you, we’ve been meaning to hang out,” He nudged sungchan, whose face dropped a bit when YN avoided his gaze. 

“Yeah, it’s good seeing you guys,” His gaze was still fixed on YN, who had her phone pulled out, fingers typing away at something. 

It wasn’t long until Yunjin and Shotaro fell into a comfortable conversation, and Sungchan took a step closer to YN. 

“Hey,” He smiled, his voice soft. 

“Hi.” YN replied shortly. Sungchan took note, shifting his weight a bit. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, slightly concerned. 

“Yeah why?” She lied, folding her arms. 

“You just seem… more closed off.” He thought of their last time together, how close they had been, the stark contrast of this moment compared to then. 

“Well sorry, I’m not sure how to talk to someone who’s been ignoring me for two weeks,” YN glanced at him, voice stern. 

Sungchan furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” He asked in confusion. 

YN rolled her eyes, not wanting to continue down this path. “Yunjin, I’m gonna head home. I’ll text you about the party,” she said before turning on her heel and walking out of sungchan’s sight. 

“So… why is YN mad at you?” Shotaro asked, taking a bite of his food. 

Sungchan shrugged. “I really don’t know? It kinda confused me.” The look shotaro gave him told him to continue. “She said I’d been ignoring her,”

“Have you been ignoring her?” Shotaro asked, knowing the answer, but wanting Sungchan to hear the truth from himself. 

The hesitancy Sungchan felt made his heart drop a bit, realizing that he had been ignoring her. “I… i didn’t think I was ignoring her,” He pulled out his phone to see the old messages he hadn’t taken the time to look at. “I didn’t really mean to,” 

“Yeah, well, you did,” Shotaro sighed. “When did you last see her?”

“I forget, but it wasn’t that long ago,” sungchan answered. 

“Okay… and when was the last time you texted her? When was the last time she texted?”

“She texted me a couple days ago…” Sungchan put his phone down, taking a few bites of his food, as if he could avoid talking if he had his mouth full. 

“Sunghcan,” Shotaro looked at him with a disbelieving expression.

“This food is really good,” Sungchan didn’t meet his gaze, stuffing his face with more food.

“Seriously, when was the last time you hung out?” Shotaro asked once more. 

“I don’t know, it couldn’t have been too far back,” sungchan shrugged. “I think… two weeks?”

“Two weeks????”

Truth be told, Sungchan had no intentions of ghosting YN. Hell, he barely realized he had been. 

When Sungchan got focused on something, it was almost like everything in the world stopped existing. That something happened to shift from YN, to his upcoming exam. It was the majority of his quarter grade, and in his efforts to study, he had unintentionally ignored nearly everything around him. Shotaro had begged him to go out for an hour or two that day, which was a struggle in itself. 

Needless to say, he had been burnt out, not even realizing it. He barely had been out besides classes, and his social life had taken a pretty big hit. He had been tired, focused so much on passing the quarters exam, that he neglected one of the biggest parts of his life. 

He hadn’t realized until he saw YN, how little time he had spent with her. In his time away, he never had the chance to think about just how much he missed her. Sungchan hadn’t thought much about the girl he liked so much- not because he lost interest, but because he was buckling under the pressure of school. 

Sungchan rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing in his own frustration. “I know, I know,” he looked up at shotaro. “So?”

“So what?” Shotaro asked.

“So what should I do? I messed up,” Sungchan shrugged, looking at shotaro hopefully. 

“Are you stupid?” Shoptaro asked. Before the younger could question his words, he said, “Apologize to her! You can’t get anywhere if you don’t talk to her,” Shotaro told him. “Make it quick before Yunjin gets involved.”

Sungchan Nodded. “Noted.”

When the two of them parted ways, sungchan walked with his hands in his pockets. He walked to his apartment, making a mental list of ways he could apologize, how he could make things up to her. He was never great at things like that, but he knew that he would change it for her.

When YN got home, her mood was brought down even more seeing there was still nothing from sungchan. It Was partially her fault, leaving before he could get a word in, but logic did nothing to brighten her mood. The worst part of the citation was how much it made her get into her own head. 

She began doubting her bond with sungchan, doubting herself. Was she that forgettable that he could go weeks without talking to her and not even realize? 

She sat down on her couch and pulled a pillow over her head, groaning into it as she laid back. In her own house, with nothing to distract her from her own doubts and fear, she felt the tears well in her eyes. It wasn’t her first experience with heart break, or with a failed relationship, but nonetheless, it hurt. She had let herself get used to sungchan, gotten her hopes up with him. Was she stupid to think they’d be more than a situationship? Tears streamed down her face before she could bring her hand up to wipe her face.

She thought back to their first date, and questioned how she ended up here. Crying on her couch because of a guy who wasn’t even her boyfriend. Crying over the guy who took her out for lunch and who she convinced to stay a little longer. Did it mean anything? Was this just how Sungchan was?

She wiped her tears and turned on her side, resting her cheek against her pillow as her phone lit up with texts from Yunjin. 

Jen: you okay???

Jen: you left rlly fast

Jen: Did he do smth???? I can kill him

Jen: should I come over?

She sighed, not wanting to involve Yunjin even more in her boy problems. 

YN: no i’m ok

YN: thanks tho 🙂

YN dropped her phone on the coffee table, closing her eyes and curling into herself. It wasn’t that late, but the tears streaming down her cheeks, and the flashes of her time with sungchan that came up every so often made her tired, made her want to escape. 

Within a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep, not wanting to think about sungchan anymore, hoping her tears would dry themselves. 

Hours passed, and YN woke up from her spot on her couch. Her back ached from the uncomfortable position, cheeks a bit puffy from crying. She went to shower, dousing herself in water to soothe her skin, and ease the pain that came from her uncomfortable sleeping position. She changed into pajamas, and dried her hair before putting it up. YN knew that since she had woken up when it was late, she wouldn’t be able to sleep well. Given that, she decided to treat herself. She wouldn’t go to another party with Yunjin, she wouldn’t spend her night crying over sungchan, she’d just let herself relax. 

She reached for her phone so she could order herself some food, but a notification made her stop for a moment. 

Channie <3: hi

Channie <3: can we talk pls?

Channie <3: i miss u

YN scoffed at the messages. Two weeks and her turning him down was what it took for him to take interest again?

She didn’t respond and placed an order for delivery. She had Wine in her cabinet that she saved for special occasions (or nights when she needed a little pick me up) and a pint of her favorite ice cream. She brought out her favorite blanket and sat down on the couch, trying to pick what she should watch, settling on twilight because what could take her mind off of things with sungchan better, than a YA romance movie.

She got up and grabbed the wine from her cabinet, pouring a bit into her glass and talking a few sips before reaching around for the ice cream in her freezer. In the midst of her search, she heard a knock on her door. Not realizing it was too quick to be her food order, she went over, and opened the door. 

“Sungchan?”

He stood in the doorway, eyes wide, as if he had ran up the stairs like he had the night of their first date. 

YN just sighed. “What are you-”

She was cut off when she felt his arms wrap around her, his head buried in her neck as if he wanted to crawl inside her. She heard him let out a shaky breath and her eyes widened, confused as to what was going on, and why he suddenly showed up. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into her skin, arms tightening around her. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, I promise,” His voice was soft, almost fragile sounding.

YN was stunned for a hot minute, standing there and letting him hug her before hesitantly bringing her arms to wrap around him, relaxing into his grasp. They stayed like that for a moment before each pulling away. YN led sungchan further inside, leading him to sit on her couch. She sat next to him, an awkward distance away. 

“What’s going on?” she asked hesitantly. 

“I wanted to apologize, and like… explain why i ignored you,” 

YN looked at him expectantly. 

“So, I have a big exam coming up, and it makes up half of my quarter’s grade. And if I failed, my semester exam would also be sunk, so-” He paused. “Not important. When I get into something really intensely, I have a bad habit, that I’m gonna work on, of kinda forgetting everything else. Even Shotaro struggled to get in contact with me. He had to drag me out earlier today.” 

He looked at YN and sighed, seeing her hesitant expression. 

“I really am sorry that I hurt you. It wasn’t my intention, but I know I did, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you,” He reached for her hand lightly. 

YN looked down at their hands. “I thought you lost interest in me,” She said quietly. 

“What?” Sungchan asked, confused if he heard her correctly. 

“I thought You lost interest. I thought you lost interest and started ignoring me.” She said a bit firmer. 

Sungchan’s heart dropped hearing those words. “YN,” he brought his other hand to her cheek, tilting her gaze towards him. “What I did was a mistake. A mistake I promise, I won’t make again,” his thumb brushed her cheek. “And I promise, I swear on everything, I’m still pretty crazy for you,” He gave her a light smile. 

His words made YN smile, intertwining her fingers with his as he leaned in to give her a soft kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other once more, not letting go of each other even as they just sat on the couch, covered by the blanket. 

YN got up when she heard a knock on her door, much to sungchan’s dismay. She brought back the food she ordered, plus the ice cream and wine. When sungchan reached for some, she swatted his hand away.

“Thats not for you,” she shook her head with a playful smile. 

“I thought you weren’t mad?” Sungchan sat up a bit, concerned.

“I’m not, but i ordered these for me,” She poked his stomach. 

When Sungchan stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, pleading for some food like he had been starving all day, YN rolled her eyes. 

“Fine,” she said, and gave him some food, and poured him a glass of wine. 

They found their places back on the couch, snuggled up against each other, sungchan’s arm draped around her waist as she rested on his chest. In the middle of the movie, while the Cullens played baseball, sungchan spoke up. 

He asked her, “Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?”

whoopee!!! I finished pt 3, stay tuned for the next parts, I pinky promise they'll come out sooner.

taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh, @skzhoe4life, @cheederzchez , @so-lychee , @leehanascent

[twst-aceofhearts]

Sleeping Beauty

a/n: took me forever to think of another character to write that wasn't in the dorms i've already wrote characters and the ending is kinda rushed im sowwy

pairings: Silver x gn!Yuu ft. Lilia Vanrouge

words: 819

taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe

What seemed to be a small alchemy accident turned into Silver being put into a deep slumber. Professor Crewel tries his best to search for a cure, but to no avail.

“Maybe true love’s kiss is the answer. Kufufu~” Lilia suggested, looking at Yuu with a smug smile on his face.

So here Yuu was, by force, looking as Silver sleeping away peacefully in the infirmary. They might as well get it over with…

“...Am I really gonna do this…?” Yuu sighed, running a hand through their hair. They’ve always wanted to kiss their crush, but not like this.

Silver’s chest slowly rises up and down, seemingly calm and relaxed. Lilia chuckles to himself as Yuu stood by Silver’s side, a nervous sweat dripping down the side of their face.

“...If I do it can’t you at least like…turn around?” Yuu murmured shyly, looking back up at Lilia.

Lilia simply grinned at Yuu’s response and did just that. Turning around and waiting for their next move, seemingly excited to see how this would play out. “Just get it over with, deary.~”

Yuu swallowed hard, looking back down at Silver’s lips face. They hesitated, suddenly feeling their face getting extremely hot.

Silver continued to rest peacefully, oblivious to what was going to happen. His lips were slightly parted, making it easy for Yuu to do their thing. 

“...Hah…I can’t do this…” Yuu let out a small whine after losing to their inner turmoil, burying their face into their hands and plopping into a chair beside Silver’s bed.

Lilia couldn’t help but chuckle at Yuu’s shyness, finding it amusing. He looks over his shoulder and sees Yuu burying their face into their hands.

“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about kissing him?” Lilia smirked as he watched Yuu.

“Of course I am! This– I– ugh…this is too much.. Is this really the only solution…?”

Lilia lets out a sigh, shaking his head. He finds Yuu’s dilemma to be incredibly adorable, however, he was starting to grow impatient. He glances back over his shoulder once more, looking at their pouting face.

“Well, would you rather have him be in slumber forever?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at them.

“...No…”  Yuu sighed stressed out of their mind.

Lilia grinned to himself, pleased with Yuu’s answer.

“Then what’s the problem? I thought you liked him?” He playfully teased, having found out about their crush on Silver.

“Th– I– hey!…this is different-!” Yuu protested, turning red.

Lilia laughs quietly to himself, knowing he hit the mark on their little crush on the Diasomnia student. It was obvious, after all, how much time they spent with Silver.

“Go on. You’re wasting time,” Lilia says with a smirk.

Yuu clenched their jaw, before gesturing for him to turn back around once more, standing up off the chair.

Lilia happily obliged, turning around once more and waiting expeectantly. He couldn’t wait to see how this would play out. After all he loved a good love story.

Yuu gulped, their stomach doing flips. They let out a shaky breath, leaning down to the sleeping figure, gently pressing their lips against Silver’s. It was nerve-wracking.

The second their lips touched Silver’s his eyes slowly began to flutter open, which initially made Yuu pull away faster than the speed of light. He slowly sat up, looking a little bit hazy himself. He looked confused as he looked around, trying to process what was going on.

“Huh? W-what in the…” Silver stammered his voice a bit raspy as he looked over at Yuu. The realization hit him hard, his eyes widening and a heavy blush spreading over his cheeks.

Yuu turned on their heel, becoming red once more, dashing out of the infirmary from pure embarrassment. 

“Ah! Wait, Yuu-!” Silver called out, but they were already long gone. He looked over at Lilia, who was just chuckling at the scene.

“What’s…going on? What happened?” Silver asked Lilia, a hint of bewilderment in his eyes. Silver tried to put the pieces together, unable to put the pieces together since his mind still a bit hazy.

“My my,” Lilia began, “You were put into a deep sleep by an alchemy incident. Nobody knew how to wake you up, but then I suggested the idea of a true love’s kiss. I never expected it to work, to be honest, seeing as you’re awake no,” Lilia says, crossing his arms.

Silver’s face turned light pink, processing the latter’s explanation. He touched his lips with the tips of his fingers, his heart fluttering as he remembered the brief feeling of Yuu’s soft lips on his. “I-I…see…” He stammered, avoiding Lilia’s gaze.

Lilia couldn’t help but chuckle, finding Silver’s reaction quite adorable. He shook his head, patting Silver on the shoulder. “You’re such an open book, you know that?” Lilia smirked, teasing the second year.

Meanwhile in the third year’s mind, Lilia was already planning the wedding.

credit to @cafekitsune for divider

[isimpfornatsume]

Jealousy (Oikawa x reader) part 3

Masterlist | part 2 | part 4

((Continuing from before))

((2nd person POV))

"Yes! Of course I would!" Ruby exclaimed in excitement and wrapped her hands around Oikawa's shoulder leaned in for a kiss but Oikawa covered her mouth with his palm. "Not now Ruby-senpai. Let's take it slow." and he wrapped his other arm around Ruby's waist tightly and filled with affection. He was hugging her just the way he always did with you...

Ruby leans into him to nook of his neck nuzzling into that safe spot that belonged to you! Ruby sniffed Oikawa while nuzzling him, smelling his faint cologne. "Oikawa. No wait. Tooru. You smell so good~" She whispered his ear, causing Oikawa to blush. To freaking blush. His bush was still adorable like suuuuuper cute and you wanted yourself to be the only one who could do that...  Who could hug him, putting your head on the nape of his neck to whisper sweet things to his ear... To make him blush... I guess the universe just won't give you what you wanted...

A/N: If you guys have been reading carefully, today is their one year anniversary!!!

You couldn't watch anymore. You just couldn't. Watching the love of your life, the only one for you being so close to another girl was simply killing you. And not just any girl. It was the most popular girl in school with the prettiest long hazel brown hair and sapphire like eyes that you've ever seen and it complimented her fair skin so beautifully. She was so soooo much prettier than you are, and for the first time since you dated Oikawa who made you feel loved, you felt insecure... You ran from the scene to where you and Oikawa would meet daily to go home together and texted him, wanting to ruin his moment with a certain girl named Ruby.

Y/N<3:

Kawa, my love?

Whatcha doin'?

I'm waiting at our usual spot~ And can we go on a date later? Its been a while since we went on one...

Oikawa<3 (the💗of my life):

N/N-chan. I'm with Ruby-senpai now.

Ano... I'm sowwy we can't go on a date today... Ruby asked if we could go on one today since it is our 1st day dating...

Y/N<3:

But kawa...

Its our...

Oikawa<3 (the💗of my life):

But nothing N/N-chan. I gotta make Ruby-senpai happy too u kno? Its our 1st day dating afterall

Y/N<3: 

But... Nvm...

You knew he had forgotten about your one year anniversary with him... 'How could he?!' you thought. Your 1st year anniversary, it marks that day, that moment Oikawa confessed to you and made you feel so so loved. You couldn't be happier than what you felt then... Then... You recalled that Oikawa had promised to take you out on this very day... 'Maybe he forgot... Or he's gonna surprise me' you thought hopefully.

((Flashback to months ago))

"N/N-chan! Our anniversary is soon right?" Oikawa chirped happily once he ended his volleyball training. 

"Yup! What would we be doing then?" you asked lovingly, really looking forward to your anniversary.

"Hmmm... You like (F/F) right? I'll bring you to (random expensive restaurant that sells (F/F))

You gasped and asked "But isn't that expensive?!"

"Mhm. I don't mind spending that money on you tho. Plus I make a lot of money by being featured on the volleyball magazines. So don't worry about the price and let or anniversary be the day I spoil you rotten ok? I'm not taking no for an answer!"

You reluctantly agreed but inside you were really really happy that he was willing to spend the money that should be for his basic necessities on you. It made you feel special, loved and appreciated. 

((Back to present time)) 

You went home disappointed, but you still carried some hope that Oikawa had left something for you. You took tiny steps as you walk,  taking the long way home, dreading the moment you reach home and your mother would ask you millions and billions of questions at one go about your 1st year anniversary and what did you guys do. You felt so jealous of Ruby who got to spend your special day with Oikawa! As you walk slowly back home, you looked around at the surroundings and saw couples hugging, kissing, being lovey-dovey just like you and Oikawa... or used to... 

After a few min of walking you saw the baker. you went with Oikawa on your 1st official date. You were hit with a sense of nostalgia. You recalled every single thing that happened on that date. You remembered how excitedly he rushed to the bakery when he was walking you home. He had seen this huuuge sign board that said 'One For One Milk Bread!'

One year ago you were walking in this exact same road with the love of your life...

...

One year later you were walking alone because your bf is busy being on a 'date' with Ruby...

((3rd person POV)) 

(We are now seeing what is happening with Oikawa and Ruby) 

"Tooruuu~" Ruby whined, "can we get going noww~ and who are you even talking tooo~"

Oikawa had been talking to Iwaizumi before he was interrupted. Since Oikawa was taller than Ruby, it blocked her view of the person he was talking too. Oikawa then turned to face Ruby, allowing her to take a glimpse of Iwaizumi.

"Ruby-senpai, wait for a while ok? I'm talking to Iwa-chan for a while" Oikawa kindly informed Ruby with his award-winning smile that Iwa knew was fake.

"Hi Ruby-senpai. I'm Iwaizumi Hajime, shittykawa's best friend and I had known since he was in middle school." Iwa formally introduced himself.

"Hi. Can I call you Iwa?" Ruby asked and Iwa nodded immediately. "1st and foremost, Tooru is not shitty so never call him 'shittykawa' again! Secondly, are you done talking to my bf? We're about to go on a date!" 

Oikawa snickered as Ruby commented about Iwa calling him 'shittykawa'. 

"Oikawa! What did she mean by you're her bf?!"Iwa whispered to Oikawa. "Don't you have Y/N? Are you cheating on her?! And what does she mean by date?! Isn't it you and Y/N's 1st year anniversary?!" Iwa was furious and smacked Oikawa on the head. 

Oikawa then realised... 'that's what N/N-chan was trying to tell me just now when she asked if we could go on a date... OH SHIT! Our anniversary! I forgot!!!' Oikawa thought.

A/N: I’ll post the next chapter soon. I’m busy with exams these few days and i am trying to find the picture in chapter 4. If u don’t want to wait and want to read the next chapter immediately, search it on Wattpad. My username is Isimpfornatsume. The book title is the same!

[gumnut-logic]

I've got a cold. It's taken me down rip flyboy but anyway, which brother do you think would say 'bless you' every single time someone sneezes? Which brother does that kind of AGHCHOO that makes them sound like they're being murdered?

I've been on an Indiana Jones binge 'cause that's what I watch when I want warmth and death to embrace me. What do you think the boys would watch? Apollo 13? Indy? Finding Nemo?

T Protocol

Okay, I wrote and this happened. I don't think I answered all of it, but most of it. I hope you feel better soon ::hugs you ever so tight::

Warnings for sick!fic and an off-screen injury, but mostly fluff and comfort, I promise.

I hope this helps at least a little.

-o-o-o-

It’s a special protocol. Reserved for only the blanket situations.

In both uses of the word.

There are times when a bug gets loose on Tracy Island and takes them all down, or when the ratio of injured family members to uninjured family members gets skewed in the wrong direction.

This is the protocol that Grandma calls.

This time it is after a flood in Bangladesh. It wasn’t the first time a protocol was called after a flood in the remains of that country, but this time it was complicated by a broken leg and a sprained wrist, both sported by Scott who had flown into a tree.

Virgil had had so many words on the matter, there was a current ice age in progress between the two eldest brothers.

Once the virus reared its ugly not quite alive head in three of the four other brothers, Grandma did not hesitate more than a diagnostic second to shut down IR.

Scott, being Scott could not keep away from any of the snotty brothers despite Grandma’s warnings and before long there were five brothers producing mucus at a disgusting rate.

It was at this point a sneezing Virgil kicked Grandma out of the picture and confined everyone else on the Island to any other place other than where the brothers were. Which was currently the main comms room because Virgil was a softy who couldn’t resist Gordon’s whining.

Okay, technically it wasn’t whining, more a valid plea for time with each other to get through this together. It was possibly a tactic to get Scott and Virgil talking again, but it was definitely designed to torture Virgil’s aching head with b-grade movies that had Alan and Gordon arguing about aliens and sea life for eternity.

‘Can you just…please!” Virgil curled up into a ball on the couch he had stuffed with pillows and begged the painkillers that he had thrown back not minutes earlier to please do their job.

“Sorry, Virg.” Alan’s voice was an octave higher than usual and the words were closer to ‘sowwy, Birg’ but close enough.

Virgil grunted.

John sneezed.

“Bless you.” Three of them said it at the same time. Virgil out of habit, Gordon out of mysticism, and Alan because Gordon said it.

Their youngest brother did have some kind of hero worship for Gordon after all. Gordon never took advantage of it. Well, not since Dad and Scott had ripped him a new one for terrifying Alan enough to induce insomnia in the entire household.

Alan had been too terrified to sleep and had kept everyone awake in the process.

Virgil suspected that the ten-year-old Gordon hadn’t meant to provoke such a reaction in his four-year-old brother, but it had. So telling your little brother about the dreams you might not wake up from, had not been a great idea.

Despite this, little Allie had been wide-eyed about Gordon for most of his life. Not as much as he adored his biggest brother, but enough to get himself into Gordon’s schemes.

They weren’t called the ‘terrible two’ for nothing.

A groan from near Virgil’s feet had him opening one eye.

He shot his big brother a glare. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Scott frowned at him over his leg brace. “Getting a drink.”

“Move another inch and I’m stapling your clothes to that chair.”

That activated his brother’s blue lasers enough to scorch the Earth and Virgil’s t-shirt. “I’m fully capable of looking after myself.” It was followed by a sneeze.

Virgil rolled off the lounge to his feet. “Bless you. Now shut up and stay put. I will get us some supplies.” He steadied himself as his abrupt change in orientation was protested at by his brain.

“I brought stuff!” Gordon protested.

Virgil didn’t bother to look at him. “Real food and drink, Gordon.”

“This is real and super healthy!”

Virgil grunted and climbed out of the sunken lounge. Technically Gordon was correct. Sports drinks and celery bars were good stuff, but Virgil’s stomach roiled at the thought. He needed comfort food.

Or whatever he could manage right now.

Behind him, Scott sneezed again and a chorus of ‘bless you’ sung out from the lounge.

Virgil made his way carefully down to the kitchen and dove into the refrigerator.

The wave of cool air was pure heaven.

He sighed. His fever must still be in play. Explained the headache at least.

“Need a hand?”

Virgil looked up to find John standing at the counter. His brother was a sight. His red hair and pale complexion always conspired to make Johnny look the worst of them when they were sick. His eyes were red and puffy. His nose was in the Rudolph stakes, and honestly, the man looked miserable.

Virgil fought the urge to hug him.

John had been the one to pull Scott out of the river. Virgil and the rest of his brothers had been rescuing a family from a barely floating house. Scott had been in-bound and John had been in Two, as Virgil was needed on the ground.

Bangladesh always took all five brothers. Hell, Kayo had been the lucky one this time having been tied up with hunting down a lost climber in the Pyrenees.

She had been successful. Bangladesh had been mostly successful.

Virgil sneezed.

“Bless you.”

He grunted and rolled back onto his heels. “Screw this.” He shoved the refrigerator closed. “This needs ice cream.”

“God, yes.”

The two of them wobbled their way to the walk-in freezer and loaded up on frozen desserts. A carton each of their favourites and some soda for extra sugar.

“T Playlist?”

Virgil looked up at his little brother. “Definitely. Top Gun it.”

John rolled his tired eyes before thumbing his collar. “Eos?”

“John, you should not be standing up. Your vitals are depressed and you could fall over due to-“

His space brother’s eyes widened. “Eos! I’m fine.”

Virgil frowned at him and if he hadn’t had his arms full of ice cream, he’d have his scanner out.

John must have sensed that. “Really, I’m fine!” He glared at Virgil. “Eos, could you please queue the T protocol playlist on the holoplayer in the lounge. Start point ‘Top Gun’, follow it up with ‘Finding Nemo’ and Dory, ‘Need for speed’, and throw in one of the ‘Fast and Furious’.” He smirked at Virgil. “Top it up with the 1990’s Mummy series.”

So, sue him, he loved a good Librarian adventure.

Virgil glared at John and cut him off. “Eos, chuck in ‘Apollo 13’ and ‘2001: a Space Odyssey’. There would be so much space debate sparked by that last one. “Actually, throw in all the Star Wars movies.”

“Just the twenty or did you want the branching series as well?” Was that glee in her voice?

“Just the movies. Oh, and ‘The Lord of the Rings’ trilogy, extended version.”

“Are you intending on sleeping at some point?” Eos had obviously been taking notes from John, her tone was pure parent.

John’s smirk proved everything.

Virgil gave him a flat stare in return. “I have no doubt there will be sleep.” Especially his own. ‘Top Gun’ was far from his favourite.

Together they stumbled back up the stairs, arms laden with all the goodies, to find the sunken lounge full of rugs, pillows, cushions and all the comfy stuff. Gordon’s doing, no doubt.

His fish brother already had Allie half asleep under one arm.

Virgil and John stepped carefully into the pile of comfort and handed out their goodies as the first strains of the movie bounced around the room.

If Scott’s eyes lit up at the sight of his favourite ice cream, Virgil wasn’t going to say anything because he was still supposed to be pissed with his brother for colliding with that tree and scaring all Virgil’s hair colour off his head.

But honestly, he loved to see his big brother happy.

Which was why ‘Top Gun’ was queued first, why he handed Scott his fudge-monstrosity of a flavour to him, with his favourite spoon, and why he sat down next to his big brother regardless.

There followed a couple of hours of old Air Force zooming and nooming about, and strutting their stuff for the girls.

Scott’s grin was massive. But ice cream is full of carbohydrate and fat, and enough was consumed that about halfway through the movie, Scott began to wilt.

Virgil was already half asleep, but alert enough to let his head drop against Scott’s shoulder in just the right position…and yes, Scott’s head dipped to lean against Virgil’s and his breathing evened out.

Yes, he was pissed with his brother for taking a risk that possibly could have been avoided and then falling in the drink and giving Virgil a heart attack when he couldn’t respond.

But he was still Scott, and Virgil had fallen asleep to ‘Top Gun’ playing in the background so many times in his life, it was almost automatic.

Across the lounge, John was murmuring something to Alan, and Gordon was already snoring on his side.

Really, they rarely got past ‘Top Gun’, it was a definite sleep inducer.

Someone gently took the carton of melting ice cream from his hands, but his headache was finally going down under the painkillers and he was comfortable, and his big brother was safe, and Tom Cruise really was a bore.

He was sleeping before he knew it.

-o-o-o-

[pending-trans-action-2]

Hiiii anon from last night here, i kinda figured out how you'd corrupt me from raping you into being a rape slut with you

So like at first i'd be using you like the whore you are (after i wait my turn of course, plenty of people there to fuck you), grabbing wherever i want as rough as i want while i fuck your ass but as you keep moaning and asking for more it would get me more and more flustered. You aren't supposed to like it after all, so i'd start choking you to shut you up but of course that would just turn you on even more. Even with how confused you were making i still cum in you but i feel so conflicted as i walk away seeing how genuinely happy and blissed out you look. I'd stay to watch and as another girl is having her way with you i'd stand off in a corner touching myself, shirt lifted up so i can play with my tits. Someone would notice of course and they'd come up behind me, their breath hot on my neck as they grab me from behind and say "Enjoying the show huh?" My immediate reaction would be to moan, and suddenly i'm terrified. Not because i know what they're going to do next, but because of how much i want them to. I'd start grinding against their bulge, my hand moving faster around my little girldick. They'd laugh before ripping off what little clothing i still had on, voice right in my ear as they say "Looks like there's two little rapesluts here huh? If you beg nice enough I'll take my cock out right now and you can feel just how she does. I'll even set you down in front of her, so both of you can watch as you get raped. How's that sound, slut?" Hearing that my mind would break and what was left of my reluctance would disappear. All that would come out of my mouth would be moans and gasps as i beg and say yes please please please over and over until they lift me up and bring me over, setting me down on my knees in front of you. You'd look at me and smile as i kneel panting, finally cumming as i feel them wrap their hands around my hips and thrust roughly into my ass. Of course, my hands wouldn't be left empty as i'm made to jerk off the crowd around us to hold my self up or i'd fall face down onto the ground. The whole time i'd be smiling the same blissed out look thats on your face

Wow that was really long, sorry for that i got excited i guess. Also, because i plan to write more of these asks if thats ok, i feel like i should ask how you want your bottom bits referred to/utilized

Aww, getting jealous watching me get treated like a fucktoy, huh? Think maybe you'll like it? Treated like an object by total strangers, groping and fucking you like you're just a toy? It feels nice, doesn't it? To let go? To give up control? All you have to do is be a good toy for our captors, think you can do that, hm? Think maybe you'll be good at it? Why don't you just join me anon, I think you'll like it~

Isokei!! Sorry it took me a while to answer, I was asleep then at work. Excited? Cute~

And ye, sure! I'd love more 😳 and idk uhh, girlcock is fine i guess??? Idk I don't really like it tbh, tho i am getting better? I got given head for the first time in my life only like a month ago lmao (yea, I know) so uhh idk, maybe light touching and tongue stuff but idk if I'm ok with anything more than that sowwy

[noomsu]

im sowwy i got to see ur answer just now! but since u do accept anons, can i please be 🍒? :33

also, i love that it took you a whole year to accept that you liked alhaitham lmao that's funny

and since we're on the topic, what's something about ur self-ship that u didn't write in the profile thing u did but that u think about constantly?

-🍒 anon

And I am very sorry that I always take this long to answer ;;

Yeah, well, that always happens to me. I see a man. I know I'm going to like him. I go through every stage of denial. Then, I give in. I'd love to say this is the first time it has happened, but no. This is just who I am

Something that's not on the profile? Damn. Many things are not there, too many, whoops.

I think my favorite thing about natsutham is that their relationship occurs very naturally. And by that I mean that, despite how difficult everything was before and a little after she came back, things kinda just fell into place. They started with touches here and there, you know, holding hands, a hug that lasted a little too long, then innocent kisses anywhere but on their lips, then actual pecks, then actual kisses, and things progressed until they were together but they hadn't actually said a word about a relationship.

It wasn't until someone else, definitely Nari, asked them if they were dating, and Haitham said yes, and she looked at him as if he had grown two more heads. But they were. And so they stayed like that.

Domesticity just suits them very well.

I also love their daughter. They have a baby girl named Nadya.

[ask-void-family]

What will you do if you see Utsuro?

“U t s u r o ...?”

“You mean - Master Utsuro ?” Nikei began to laugh in a rather disturbing way, as if the mention of Utsuro had a special effect on him.

“Hahahaha - Master Utsuro -! When I will find Him, I ... I ! It’ll be ... the best day of my life, I finally ... finally ... yes ...”

“I want this day to come ... my whole life ... I’ve-I’ve been - waiting for this ! He’s ... the only person who-who... ahhhhh ...”

"N-Nikei! Snap out of it, please..!" Iroha, despite her obvious shaking from both the strange effect that hearing the name 'Utsuro' had, as well as her own slight fear from seeing their leader like this, stepped closer to gently tug at his sleeve in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

"Y-You're not the only person who wants to meet Him..!"

She pauses, before turning her gaze back to answer the ask properly, though still holding on to Nikei. "I.. I don't know.. I want that day to come as soon as possible too, b-but I haven't thought of.. how I'd thank Master Utsuro.."

Nikei violently put his arm away so that Iroha stopped holding onto it, showing an expression full of disgust and envy, while saying the words “Back off !”. She in turn yelped and jumped back, clutching her sketchbook close and using it to cover the lower half of her face while she stared downwards, her feet nervously shuffling in place. A soft sniffle escaped her.

“Hmmm?” There’s the pitter patter that footsteps leave behind as the black-haired Mikado Sannoji peers into the room, carrying the tablet-computer that powered his Alter Ego tucked under his arm. “Mister Yomiuri? Miss Nijiue? Ah- if I’m not intruding, I heard quite... loud... laughter. Is everything alright?”

After receiving no response, he started over to where the two were. “Is it an ask? Mister Yomiuri, you should- at the very least- tell me when we receive one that applies to me. I’ve relied on Mister Makunouchi and Miss Magorobi for the past ones....” Sigh. “Ah, well. Let bygones be bygones, I suppose. Now let me see.... just what exactly is it that has you both so--”

A sudden, loud BANG echoes through the room as Mikado slammed his fist against a nearby desk in surprise, eyes wide as he scans the name in front of him again and again and again and again and again-

“Aaah... Aah.... Haah...? Mmf.. Haaah... You... Hahah...! Utsuro... Master Utsuro!~ Haaah~”

He paused before clearing his throat, cheeks now red not in the weird, drooly, flustered state that he was in before but instead in embarrassment. 

“Aah... M-My apologies. I was simply... caught off guard is all...”

“Haaah... ah... What ever shall I do...~? I think- yes, yes, thanking Him would be a start. Even simply seeing Him again would be enough... aah..!” 

“...If... I were to be honest. I don’t even care about His Fortune. Simply seeing Him again... aah- if I could meet Him again, my life would be... fulfilled..”

Mikado’s Alter Ego is strangely silent.

Meanwhile, Nikei briefly looked at the newcomer(s) then stormed out, leaving Iroha and Mikado with a loud door shutting noise - he probably would have broke the door if he was stronger.

“A-Ah! Nikei, wait-!” Iroha hurriedly wiped away her tears before turning to follow after. On her way out, she narrowly dodged bumping into Hajime, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the other while she pitter pattered off.

“..Anyone care to explain what’s happened this time?” Hajime sighed, making his way over and scanning the ask. “Thank him, obviously. If there’s anything else I could do, I would, but as of now there isn’t anything I can think of that’d be enough to repay him for what he’s done.”

“You, on the other hand,” He sharply turns to Mikado. “Would it kill you to not bust a nut every time Master Utsuro’s name is mentioned? A little decency would be appreciated, especially in front of Him.”

Those are some bold words from a guy who wears shorts like those, but that’s not the point.

“Haaah...-?!” The Mikado in question tensed, quickly snapping out of whatever flustered trance he had worked himself into to turn to the boxer. “Mister- Mister Makunouchi-! I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about...! Aaah..-”

Meanwhile, the clacking of boots can be heard as Emma opens the door, partially out of breath. Glancing around the room at the other two, she lets out a long s i g h. “What happened to cause Nikei to storm into his room and start screaming? Roha didn’t seem to want to explain-” The actress blinks for a minute, staring at the screen.

Her normally calm demeanor shifts slightly as she pauses for dramatic effect. “If I were to see Master Utsuro again... I would thank him for everything... Do what I can, of course, to repay him for everything-” A sharp inhale as Emma pauses again.

[andnotbrave]

what does it do to a girl who knows her mother is a murderer? - eauregard !

( dark places / meme. ) | @eauregard

beau is nosy, nott knows now. at first, she‘d assumed she was picking for a fight. that she just couldn’t help herself from it, that it was the only thing she knew, that she was always hunting for it. sniffing for trouble like a bad dog (and beau is, in a way. but she is not nearly as mean as she likes to think or nott herself thought at the beginning). but that’s not it.

beau is inquisitive, is all. curious about everything (as the great detective that she is, nott can relate). the problem is that she gets surmountably upset when she doesn’t get an answer to her questions. nott still doesn’t know how to deal with that, other than let her have it until she gets tired of it. “nothing good, i’d assume.”

nott has a hard time seeing herself as anything other than an ugly goblin who soon (hopefully, surely) will not be that anymore. but she makes the effort, for beau, of imagining herself as a normal girl with a mother. “i mean, it’d be rough. would you rather have that knowledge or be completely oblivious?”

[haleyhunwritess]

Careful baby

Warnings: Mentions of spankings, ddlg/little reader, yelling, dark-ish fic

Summary: Little!reader refusing to take her medicine (on account of it being “icky”) until someone decides to threaten them with a spanking from a certain someone with a metal arm.

Pairings: Soft!Dark!Daddy!Steve x Little!Reader, Soft!Dark!Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader

“Daddy no! no! no! I don’t need any medicine, it’s icky and I don’t like it!”

“Sweetheart, please just listen to me. It’ll make you feel tons better. It’ll get rid of all the icky feelings and then no more sickies for my little princess. Please, darling…just listen to Daddy this one time, okay?” Steve looked down at you sympathetically as you lay in your bed cuddled up with your favourite stuffies. It broke his heart to see you feeling this unwell, and even more now that you were crying over having to take some medicine.

You shake your head once again before rolling over and shoving your face in one of your pillows while lightly sobbing. The medicine tasted icky, and you already feel icky so you don’t want to feel any worse, why can’t your daddies understand that?

Steve sighs and puts down the medicine before sitting down on the bed next to you and slowly turning you to look at him “Babygirl…I didn’t wanna have to do this…if you don’t take your medicine then I’ll have to call your Dada home from work to make sure you take your medicine.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of your Dada coming home early from work just to give you your medicine. You knew he wouldn’t be impressed with your refusal to take your medication, however, you still couldn’t stand the idea of taking the bad-tasting medication and feeling even worse than you do right now. Starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, you reach for your paci that’s on the bedside table, but Steve grabs it before you can and quickly stands up.

“What’s it gonna be, babygirl? Should I grab the medicine or get the lotion ready instead?” Steve bites back a smirk when you look up at him with a confused expression. However, that confused expression is quickly replaced with a scared look when you notice him opening up the drawer filled with aftercare products that Steve and Bucky spoil you with after giving you an intense punishment. He pulls out a special cream that Bucky uses on you usually after using his metal arm for a long and harsh spanking.

“Daddy no…” you start to cry harder and make grabby hands for him as the tears are streaming down your face.

He quickly walks back over to you with a smile and picks you up before popping the paci in your mouth.

“Hmm so what do you think, babygirl? Should we give Dada a call?” He lightly bounced you in his arms while picking up his phone and dialing Bucky’s number before you could even answer him.

“Daddy no! I hab medicine! Pwease no call Dada! Pwease I pwomise I be good for Daddy!” you spit the paci out and start to cry harder, knowing that Bucky was going to be really upset with you now. All of a sudden, you start to cough uncontrollably as a result of all the crying, making Steve panic momentarily. He quickly puts his phone down, not bothering to hang up.

“Shh shhh…you’re okay sweetheart…shhh it’s okay Daddy is here.” He starts to rub your back gently while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear every now and then. You start to calm down slightly, but still scared of getting a punishment. You think back to when they first took you and how terribly quick they were to punish you for the smallest mistakes. The biggest one being your countless tries to leave the compound and talking about how much you miss your old life. You shiver slightly thinking back to that memory and quickly slip your thumb in your mouth.

“Darling, what did we say about putting your thumb in your mouth?” Steve lightly scolded you while grabbing another clean paci from the dresser and carefully replacing your thumb with it.

“Sowwy, Daddy…” you whisper quietly before starting to softly suck on the paci and resting your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, princess. You’re still learning. Isn’t that right?” you quickly lift your head up to nod at him, then hesitantly point at the medication on your bedside table.

Steve walks back over to your bed, gently placing you down before picking up the medicine again. You try not to pout and wait for him to give you the medicine. Steve carefully poured some of the cough syrup into the small little cap before handing it over to you. You stare at the small cap for a minute, debating if the spanking might be worth waiting to take it. Steve sits down next to you and takes the medicine from you, before holding your hands down with one of his hands, and then gently encouraging you to take the medicine. You close your eyes and hold your nose before gulping it down, trying not to gag. He quickly hands you your bottle filled with water to wash it down.

“There we go, sweet girl. That wasn’t so hard now was it, babygirl?” Steve puts the medicine away and helps you lay back down before handing you your paci back. He gets up from the bed and leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead before walking out of the room to allow you to cry yourself to sleep.

A few hours later, you feel something cool on your arm, gently shaking you awake. You rub your eyes furiously before you realize a metal arm pulls your hands away from your eyes.

“Careful babydoll, wouldn’t want you to hurt those pretty eyes.”

You quickly open your eyes and realize Bucky is finally home, making you clutch your stuffie tightly.

“You know Steve always forgets to hang up the call before putting his phone down. He’s a bit silly sometimes huh? Is that why my babydoll was giving him so much trouble earlier?” you whimper lightly knowing where this is heading. You start to crawl back further away from him when you notice the special cream on the bedside table.

“Alright doll, you know the drill. How many spankings do you think are fair? Since you’re sick I don’t want to make you feel any worse, does 25 sound fair to you, love?”

[wooahaes]

gladiolus

pairing: non-idol!bang chan x gn!reader

prompt: ... your best friend from here.

word count: ~1.1k

warnings: chan gets embarrassed so hard he probably dies a little. also alcohol mention

(im sowwy im still new and i read in a few places that they dont really drink in order to focus on their career??? guess ill die!)

daisy’s notes: dont look at me and the fact im def not going to finish this series lmao i wanted to share this one bc him..............

also im so sorry if he legit doesnt drink bc ive never seen it mentioned??? i just think ‘accidentally confesses ur feelings to ur crush bc drunk’ is a fun trope im just a humble writer pls dont bully me too hard

There were plenty of things that Chan knew about you. He knew your favorite drink at your usual coffee shop. He knew your favorite desserts and the best place to get it when you were feeling down, because you told him once that good food always can help mend a bad mood--it rhymed, after all. He knew your little habits, like the way you’d drum your fingers against the table while you thought, or the little way that you’d count beats with a tap of your toes or a gentle pats on whoever was nearby (usually him) whenever you listened to music. All of these little things were endearing to him, truthfully, and he was pretty sure that was why he fell for you. You were sweet enough as it is, usually giving him a space to decompress when he needed to step out of the kind, selfless big-brother role he’d taken among his friends. He liked when he could step away from the world and just exist in the same space as you, crashing on your couch for a few hours while you droned on about work, playing with his hair sometimes just because you knew it’d soothe him.

All platonic things, he’d told himself for a while. He’d do the same for you, if you asked (and you never did, for some reason).

But Chan knew that you were okay on flowers. He knew that you thought gladioluses (gladioli? He never could find a real answer to which was right) were your favorite. So he took a page out of his friends’ books and brought a bundle to your home, swallowing his fears. It was about time he told you exactly how he felt. And if you turned him down, then he’d do whatever he could to salvage your friendship. You were his best friend and he wasn’t going to lose you just because he caught feelings.

When you opened the door, he blurted out his feelings right then and there. “I’ve had feelings for you for a really long time,” he said, “and I needed to tell you that. And I thought that I’d bring you these,” he looked down at the flowers, because you called them pretty once, and I... I never forgot that.”

You blinked at him, just standing there, confused for the longest time. “Wait. Chan... Do you mean we aren’t dating?”

He looked back at you immediately. “What?”

“Oh, Channie...” You sighed, stepping back. “Why don’t you come in?”

Befuddled, he did, because if you thought the two of you were dating, then he definitely fucked something up somewhere. Had he asked you out and forgotten about it with some spontaneous case of amnesia? He was pretty sure it didn’t work that way, but he stopped as you approached him, taking the flowers from him with the excuse of putting them into some water. Yet instead of going to sit on your couch as you had asked, he followed you to your kitchen.

He decided to ask you outright, “Why did you think we were dating?”

You shifted your weight from leg to leg, the sound of water filling a vase in front of you drowning out any awkward silence. “Remember when we went drinking last week?”

He did. He’d invited you out with all of his friends, and he remembered the way that they’d abandoned him to tease Felix about his new partner when he broke the news that they’d gone official after a few weeks of going on casual dates. Apparently, so did you, since you recounted all of it to him minus the whole “casual dating” part of it.

You continued, unwrapping tissue paper from the bouquet as you spoke, “You were drinking, and you started talking about how you were jealous of him. And... I dunno, you started talking about how we’d be cuter than him.”

Oh no.

“I asked you what you meant,” you continued on, unaware of the complete look of embarrassment on his face at what his drunk self had spilled to you, “and you said something about how we’d be SUCH a cute couple before you like... buried your face in my shoulder and called yourself a coward who couldn’t confess.”

“I what?!”

“You did!” You finally looked up at him, not commenting on how red his ears and face had become. “I asked you if you liked me and you said, and I quote, “I really really like you,” and it was really cute actually. I didn’t wanna push you any further, and... Changbin showed up and said he’d take your drunk ass home before you said anything stupid.”

Too late for that.

“And then I told you I’d text you the next morning.”

That much he remembered for sure. You’d asked him if he meant everything he said about how much he liked you, and Chan assumed that he didn’t confess his feelings and instead had gone off on one of his drunk friend rambles and told you how good of a friend you were to him.. again, since it wouldn’t have been the first. So he offhandedly told you that of course he meant it, and that he loved you a lot.

Which, in retrospect, was a mortifying way to respond.

“So when you asked to meet up...? Just the two of us?”

You smiled at him, leaning against your kitchen counter. “That was supposed to be a date.”

“Oh my god,” he buried his face in his hands, letting out a flustered whine. “This is embarrassing.”

“Didn’t you notice how many heart emojis I’ve been sending you? And the fact I kept calling you “babe” after you said it was fine?”

He tore his hands away from his face, skin still burning hot “I thought you were just being more affectionate!”

“I was!” You laughed, making your way over to him, “God, I was trying to be because you’re cute!” 

Before he could dwell on it too much more, you reached up, gently pulling him in to you. You leaned forward, hesitating just for a moment before you pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. His eyes went wide at the move, every thread of embarrassment tight enough to keep its choke hold on him as you pulled away with that cute smile on your face at how red his ears were turning.

Chan remembered to breathe a moment later, any attempts at acting suave in front of you long abandoned. “So... If we’re...” He cleared his throat. “I really think... we should call last week our day one. This one would be more embarrassing.”

You giggled, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face. “Oh, babe,” you said, “we’re definitely doing that.”

“So then...” He rested his hands at your waist, pulling you closer. “Can we... do that again?”

“Kiss?” You prompted, watching him shyly nod. You softly laughed. If only people knew how flustered he could get... Instead, you smiled at him a moment later, regaining your composure. “Only if you ask me properly.”

He turned his face away, giggling for a moment. “Okay,” he said, dragging out the word. “Can I please kiss you?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you giggled, already leaning in.

He’d definitely tell the other story. Maybe this one would come out one day, but he’d settle for living in the moment and kissing you as much as he always wanted to.

[bee-agere]

Hi I saw that your i box got cleared. No worried, if its okay then I'll request again. A platonic Tommyinnit x reader. The reader had been stressed due to school, completely swamped with work. Tommy is worried about them and gies to their house (parents aren't home). Reader doesn't notice him due to having regressed. Then Tommy takes care of reader. Take care of yourself bee :)

School Stress

CG!Tommyinnit x GN!Little!Reader

TW/CW: —

Notes: this is kinda short, sowwy :( I’m on new meds and they make me feel really icky, so sowwy if it not good :((

You yawned, trying to rub your eyes free of any tiredness. Binders, papers, books, and pencils were covering your desk, copious amounts of schoolwork around you. You were beyond stressed, so much was due and there was so much that wasn’t completed yet, it was exhausting. And with your looming tiredness, was that urge to be little. That feeling of softness, comfort, and love, you needed it a lot, but there was too much to be done. You tried to push down your regression, to no avail. In mere minutes, you were babbling and your work was long forgotten.

With nobody around, you really weren’t sure what to do. After a few minutes of babbling to yourself, you became extremely bored. With a small whine, you slid off your chair and made your way downstairs, nearly tripping over your own feet several times.

Sitting on the couch, you turned on the TV and tried to find the kids channel, but you couldn’t quite remember the numbers. 555, 556, 554, 552, none of them were the kids channel that you always watched. With another whine, you left it on a channel that played a lot of AD’s, at least some of them were for kid’s toys, which made you very excited to watch. You laid down on your back and kicked your feet back and forth as you watched the mostly boring channel. You wished your parents were home, or at least you had a friend to play with.

~

With the click of a button, Tommy ended his two hour long stream. As much as he loved streaming, it was very tiring sometimes. He looked at his phone to realize you hadn’t replied to any of his messages from when he went on a small bathroom break. Pressing on your name, he quickly called you.

…

….

…..

No answer.

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. Usually you always answered. He knew you were stressed out from school, you had been talking about it late last night. Tommy had noticed that you needed to regress last night, based off the way you spoke and constructed your sentences. Without another thought, he left his room, told his Mother where he was going, and left for your house.

Your house wasn’t far, it took Tommy a good four minutes to walk to your house. He didn’t bother to knock, he had been to your house so many times that he didn’t even bother anymore.

You heard the front door open and your attention was peaked, your thumb still in your mouth. When Tommy came into view, you grinned widely. “Tom Tom!” You exclaimed, standing up and running over to him.

He pulled you into a hug. “Are you alright, sweetie?”

You nodded. “I’m wittle, Tom Tom! School too hard,” You explained, “Can we watch ‘toons?” You asked with a sweet smile. Tommy smiled back.

“We can watch cartoons, anything you wanna watch, as long as it’s good for little one’s like you.”Tommy said, taking your hand and walking you to the living room.

“Can we watch Max and Wuby?” You asked softly as Tommy sat you down on the couch. He had also gotten you your favourite blanket and stuffed teddy bear.

Tommy sat down next to you and you cuddled into him as you listened with a grin the theme song. Tommy wrapped his arm around you and kept checking to make sure you were okay. As chaotic as Tommy was, he always calmed down around you, especially when you were little.