#these anons amuse me to no end

[seriouslyitsnotstopping]

Here are the facts you ignore today: Jensen doesn't love Misha and probably never did. His displays of affection with him are always performances and not real!

I can’t hear you over how loud Jensen laughs anytime Misha speaks

But sure, bestie, go off.

[hazmatazz]

I see you're talking about grilled cheese, not samdwhich. Not to be confused with Weird Al.

what

[maxladcomics]

I only know half the people I know nowadays because they were hanging out in your Picarto stream chat, so basically, congrats, you drawing undertale stuff is part of the reason I'm in a polycule now LMAO

MAXLAD, A MENACE, BUT ALSO INTERNET WINGMAN???

This should be my promotional material if I actually stream, but also congrats??

Wait Anon I need to ask YOU- Is everyone in your polycule into Undertale or nah?

[maddy-ferguson]

i am not anti jncy but i see no point in bringing stncy back in s4 and showing that nancy still feels some sort of attraction towards him if stncy is not gonna be a thing again? like why bring that plotline back in s4 for no reason in the same season jncy still are having relationship problems?

also nancy obviously is shown to feel something for steve whether or not ppl dismiss it or not. you could say that s1 was just not that deep sort of attraction, but then how u explain s4? there is no point in showing nancy's confusion and attraction towards steve in this season (and it doesnt make sense to bring the stncy tension back either).

this was sent to me before i talked about being a jncy endgame doubter yesterday and so for a minute there i was like oh my god single nancy truther ask? they know? but it wasn't that actually.

i don't know why you sent this to me specifically but you came to the right person as i am neither a jncy lover nor a jncy hater. i loved them in 2016 but season 2 kind of made me...stop caring. don't ask me why. i do however hate stncy so i'm not 100% impartial but it's not like i'd bend over backwards to make sense of jncy ending up together. i agree that it's really funny that people (on this side of the fandom especially!) don't seem to find jncy fighting and talking about "not understanding each other anymore" in season 3 and then lying to each other in season 4 at all worrying

as much as i despise the stncy comeback, i see a couple reasons as to why they would bring it back in season 4 when everyone thought the love triangle was behind us and assumed jonathan and nancy were endgame.

it makes us go "oh? this couple i've been used to for four seasons might not end up together after all?" which applies to the Other love triangle as well. and it could be for a myriad of reasons, maybe it's just for the drama, maybe it's because nancy is gonna end up with steve after all, maybe it's only meant to be applied to the other love triangle, but i think it's because jonathan and nancy are gonna break up. i expect them to break up. i think nancy's gonna end up single.

the only reason i'm confident stncy isn't gonna happen isn't because i'm sure jncy is endgame because as i just said i'm not, it's because it makes no sense thematically. and i know that doesn't sound like much when you get scenes of nancy staring at a shirtless steve, but i really just still don't see her checking him out as a deep (meaningful) attraction. if they'd shown us steve and nancy having deep personal talks maybe but what do we get all season really? sexual tension? nancy checking him out? an act of "unambiguous true love" that's just nancy trying not to let someone close to her die on her watch again?

and sure that's not nothing but nancy ending up with steve just doesn't make sense for her arc that's about not repeating her parents' mistake, not settling down with someone just because they're a good enough prospect (from a good family, rich, jock, wants a family) and just because you like them fine and aren't in love with them. non-conformity etc. steve's her el, to a lesser extent. this has been said a lot and i can see why you don't feel like that's a compelling argument, especially after s4 stncy, but to me season 4 really doesn't change the essence of the love triangle! it makes more noticeable even, especially when you compare it to mike's love triangle. also see my addendum at the end of this ask. maybe i'm overthinking it but that's the way i see it and all that added up makes me, i'm proud to say, 100% sure that steve and nancy are NOT ending up together

i'm sorry this was just me rehashing stuff that's been going around for months i'm having a hard time explaining what i mean even though it's all very clear in my head <3

now onto our jncy doubt agenda and my personal single nancy agenda.

stranger things likes to subvert tropes right? how in the hell is "the self-insert underdog weirdo freak gets the girl" a subversion of tropes? it's like THE sci-fi trope, it's more prevalent than born sexy yesterday! nancy and jonathan are the perfect example of the trope come to life, though since it's a 2010s show nancy has more agency than the regular 80s sci-fi love interest and doesn't exist just as The Woman and The Love Interest. but they still very much fit that trope. by not ending up with steve, nancy breaks the cycle and doesn't repeat her parents' marriage. that's great. jncy itself still isn't groundbreaking at all. and maybe they don't have to be, right, in terms of archetypes, jopper isn't groundbreaking either, i know, but it took them four seasons to get together and they haven't spent the last two seasons not working that great as a couple so i'll leave them be.

you know what is subverting a trope? the girl not ending up with the self-insert underdog weirdo freak. and not ending up in a relationship at all. it's 2023 so it isn't THAT crazy anymore and the idea of her not ending up with either of them has been floating around and i don't see anyone loving the fact that nancy's been in a love triangle for three seasons out of the four we have but i feel like ending the show with nancy being single would still make waves. especially because it's The love triangle, it's the one everyone in the cast has an opinion on, i just think her not ending up with anyone is fun.

i think nancy not ending up with either makes sense for jonathan and steve's arcs too (even though the concept of steve having a series-long arc is...debatable. but let's say he does) and i really just think it works on every level. this was mostly me talking about nancy because she's in the middle of the love triangle and because she's like a sister to me.

in the end maybe jonathan and nancy will end up together. you can say they have their goal of going to college together binding them together for instance, she wants to be a journalist and he wants to be i don't remember what exactly but a photograph and work in journalism too, and there's other things i'm sure, i just really don't expect them to. 60/40 maybe. or 70/30.

[feralsteddie]

You said you want to be a costume historian, is it any period of time in particular that you are interested in? What's your favorite wacky historic clothing fact? I'm genuinely curious as a history enthusiast myself.

*vibrating* Hello yes thank you for the question I promise to be normal about this as possible.

So, one of my fave things about things like fashion is that there are like, clear cycles in trends so one thing doesn't particularly just apply to one time period. That being said I might have a... mild obsession with the Rococo-era fashion. Like, looking at it, the political climate, and what exactly all the pastel and opulence was about and what it was reacting to make me go a little feral and start chewing on furniture.

My fav 'wacky historic clothing fact' is actually more about dyeing methods I guess??? Like I just think it's absolutely hilarious that we can track developments of Murex dyeing and where it was done at all the way back to the Dye and Loom Age because the process leaves behind shells... which people would just leave in giant mounds.

[eternally-anomalous]

nre, are there any recipes that the scavengers have shared with you? if so, what are your favorites?

NRE: There are a few, yes, or rather theyve shown me the finished food and how they cook it, im not sure if i could recreate it like i would a recipe though

NRE: one of my favorites is fried noodlefly in popcorn oil, its a really ingenious thing to do, I certainly never would have thought about it, and it looks really tasty

NRE: sometimes they use that weird slime mold, the sparkly kind, to decorate more plain looking dishes when theres a feast or party, which in my opinion is really cool

NRE: scavengers are so cool...

[thatlittledandere]

For the anon date thing: 22, F but pretty gnc, brown eyes and black hair, uhh i forgot if there were any other physical descriptors. My favorite type of music would be songs that tell stories. I would take you on an amusement park date if you like rollercoasters, or an aquarium date if not :]

Don't know much about the music tbh it sounds good on paper but I'm personally very bad with lyrics. Punk Rock 101 is a good one?? The rest I know are all Finnish and I don't know if you are :/ That aside we are Getting Married but only if you promise not to make fun of me when I insist on going on the roller coasters despite visibly peeing and pooping my pants the whole time

Describe yourself and I'll tell you if I'd date you

[nottsangel]

More of bsf!theo when people think your dating I beg

Also can I be 🦝 anon?

“mate, i can’t believe you two still haven’t fucked.” blaise remarks with a chuckle of disbelief. theo, leaning back on the couch in the dimly lit common room, narrows his fierce eyes as he glares at blaise. “oh, don’t be ridiculous, blaise. obviously they have.” draco chimes in, scoffing and rolling his eyes in a snobbish manner. “what the fuck are you two on about? we’re just friends, alright? nothin’ more.” theo snaps back, his fingers restlessly tapping on the leather couch with his lips pressed together in a thin line. mattheo then joins the conversation, much to theo’s growing frustration.

“right. well, and enzo is my friend but i don’t slap his ass every time he walks by. but that might just be me!”

“i mean… you could if you wanted—”

“hey, guys!” you unawarely interrupt with a cheerful tone, abruptly cutting off enzo’s sentence as the boys look startled at your sudden presence, too immersed in their conversation to have noticed you walk in. a smug, lopsided smirk spreads on theo’s face— not only because his mood instantly brightens the moment he sees you, but also because he’s relieved that the awkward conversation finally came to an end.

theo swiftly grasps your hand and pulls you onto his lap, causing you to stumble clumsily onto him, eliciting a soft giggle from you. yet, you can’t help but sense that the atmosphere feels slightly… off. you quickly begin to wonder why the group has fallen into dead silence instead of continuing their conversation, and from your peripheral vision, you notice their burning, staring eyes fixed on both of you.

“hmm. good morning, bella” theo murmurs in a deep, raspy morning voice, quickly pulling you out of your puzzled trance. you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek— a familiar greeting between you and your best friend. you feel theo’s firm hands trail down to your ass, before casually slipping them into the pockets of your jeans.

mattheo suddenly coughs, his voice dropping to a muttered whisper, “just friends… yeah right.” in response, you hear enzo and blaise snicker softly, unable to hide their amusement. theo mutters a quiet dickheads under his breath, which makes you cock your head in confusion as your eyes uneasily dart around the room. “so uhm… what were you guys talking about just now?” “nothin’ you should worry your pretty head over, piccola.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[ybklix]

backseat

★ pairing: drunk-needy!han jisung x fem!reader

✦summary: Han doesn’t handle alcohol well, he always ends up doing something he can’t remember or embarrassing that he regrets. This time he starts teasing you, whimpering in need of your touch in the back seat of your other friend’s car after a night out at the club.

☆ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, mention of wet dream, teasing, clit play, very slightly somnophilia, (implied consent), oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex.

word count: 3.3k

masterlist - taglist

a/n: han jisung lately. that's it. he has me barking fr, read this while i work on a little more elaborated han fic requested, anon if u reading, wip luv u

dividers by dollywons

“Can you guys stop treating me like your fucking personal uber driver or something?” said Changbin amused but a little annoyed once you and Han got into the backseat of his car.

Changbin turned his body to see how clumsy you both got into his car.

“Sorry, sorry, Hannie got a little drunk, and he's the one who called you anyways, I was for sure gonna order a more kind uber driver” you replied, putting the safety belt on your drunk friend.

“Heeey man, what’s up” greeted Han to Changbin, completely wasted.

“Ha, ha, so funny. It's late and you know Jisung doesn't take alcohol well” replied Changbin, starting the car and looking at Han.

“Well, he's fucking 23, he can drink…” you argued.

“Yeah, but next time do it at home so you couple of babies who can't drink outside don't have the need to call me.”

“I thought I called Ch-chan” Han interrupted.

“We wouldn't have drank alone if you guys replied to the group chat I literally said-”

You were also drunk, not drunker than Jisung, but tipsy, speaking with difficulty and slurring your words, ready to fight.

“Shhh… why are you fighting, what's all that yelling, goshh, let me take my nap” Han spoke, dragging out his words because he was drunk, his heavy and loose body leaning on you.

“Oh the baby wants to sleep?” spoke Changbin in a baby voice, “you know what, fuck you Han, I was fucking a hot girl when you called” replied Changbin more annoyed, teasing him, and turning up the volume of the song he had in his car.

“Can you turn off the volume pleaseee?” whined Han.

“No” replied Changbin, turning the volume up a little more.

Han whined like a little boy, you said nothing and leaned your head back on the seat, when suddenly your friend's heavy body fell on you again, this time with his puffy cheek resting on your exposed breasts by your cleavage, from which you got a little upset; you wanted to move him, but he started moaning, you saw him, his mouth slightly open, his cheek squashed on your chest and his eyes closed, you thought he was asleep, one of the more reasons why he was so heavy and weak.

“Ji-jisung” you called his name in a soft whisper, stirring your shoulder a little to wake him up.

However it was impossible, the music was moderately loud. You started to stress as he was letting himself lean on you, you were about to move more roughly again and call his name when you hear soft whimpers come from his lips, mumbling your name.

“Y/n…” whimpered Han.

You frowned, thinking to yourself that he was somewhere between asleep and awake and was indeed somewhat conscious.

“Jis-”

“Mmm, Y/n don't stop, please” he mumbled again, whining in a slightly strange tone.

“What?” you said in confusion but he didn't respond and still had his eyes closed and his cheek pressed to his chest.

“Oh, fuuck” he sighed heavily.

That last one gave you chills, it had come from deep inside him and it had sounded so good, you were a little too drunk to think, still you magically came back to your senses… thinking about his moans sounding a little sexual, arousing a hint of excitement in you, making your nipples hard, but you didn't understand, you didn't know if he was playing or if he was really asleep, but somehow, his constant panting near you immobilized you, making your pussy throb.

You came out of your trance in seconds, you watched him, he really seemed to be asleep, you knew Han so well that you knew perfectly what his expression was when he was completely in a sleep state. But he kept whimpering softly, to which you deduced, he was dreaming and you finally connected the dots, as he was panting like that, it was a wet dream… if you had been soberer you would have laughed intensely, poor Hannie all needy to have a wet dream, after all you were friends… but you wanted to blame the alcohol for reacting aroused, for the closeness of his handsome face leaning on your breasts and… because he was babbling your name in his soft but deep voice… He looked so good near you that you felt bad because he was asleep and unintentionally, the car passing by a lighted area, so much as to illuminate the inside of Changbin's car, you realized that your friend had an erection in his pants.

That was enough, the alcohol was gone from your system and you were not going to tolerate that behavior, more from you, feeling all turned on by your best friend, when you yourself made it a rule to feel nothing but friendship for any of the 8 attractive men that were part of your life.

“Han” you stirred abruptly, heart racing, nervous and guilty for feeling horny.

He woke up, a little scared and shaken, confused looking around not even knowing where he was. And as he woke up he saw you, and remembered his very vivid little dream where he was fucking you in his room, you saw him and you were slightly with your cheeks red and he immediately felt his penis was hard.

“Ah, Y/n, I'm really sorry, I fell asleep” he said apologetically, nervously, still with the effect of the alcohol in his system.

You didn't know what to say, the car was dark anyway, so Jisung distanced himself a bit from you, but the poor guy was a bit too drunk to distinguish or remember if what he dreamed he imagined or happened at some point, he only knew that his cock was aching from being locked in his jeans and that he wanted to get it taken care of as soon as possible, the worst, was that when he got horny-drunk, his feelings of sexual appetite were more intense and he didn't know how to put out the fire inside him. Jisung tried to look out the window, but the constant motion of the car and the view made him more dizzy and confused. And it was there… when his mind started to play a bad trick on him again, his brain betrayed him, he wasn't the shy and serious Jisung, he didn't know anything about his surroundings, he only knew what he felt and he felt in fucking heaven all spinning around, but at the same time his cock was throbbing and pulsating. It was there, when he no longer knew how to distinguish, and acted merely because of the effect of the noxious substance in his body.

He was about to say and do something that he would not remember for a few long hours when he awoke from his deep post-drunken sleep.

Jisung turned his sight, which was moving as he was drunk, but he managed to distinguish your silhouette, with that dangerous dress you decided to wear tonight, provoking him by seeing you without ingesting any drop of alcohol, provoking him now too. You were still, petrified and incredibly aroused at all the thoughts going through your mind with Jisung, you wanted to stop them, but your pussy was throbbing and your panties were already wet, you hated being a little drunk, you got incredibly wet the slightest thing, that's why none of the guys played along when you invited them to the club, because you would surely end up drunk kissing a stranger, begging for more, that's why the eight of them looked out for you a little.

He finally approached you, sure of himself, with steady movements and hardly awkward at all.

“Hey, Y/n, I must admit you look beautiful today” he whispered in your ear, your skin bristled, he didn't sound drunk at all, and you wondered how the fuck he could be so good including that, “Fuck, you actually look so fucking good every day and I'll be quick and honest, I haven't stopped thinking about you for a second… to the point where…” he laughed softly, “shit, I'm so fucking hard, would you touch me?”

Every word quickened your heart, you knew it was Drunk Han by the boldness and flirting, he flirted often when he got tipsy, but he had never asked for such a thing; you opened your eyes and swallowing saliva, you looked down at his erection… in the last few minutes you had fantasized about his cock as much as you never did in their years of friendship, why now, why, why, you wondered, you didn't want to, you ignored him, treating him crazy, knowing he wouldn't remember anything anyway, wouldn't remember that you didn't want to touch him, just because you wanted to convince yourself not to, not to cross that line, but your insides burned, wanting his cock to be buried in your wet pussy, sliding down your puffy walls.

“Please, please do it, touch me please, I need you” he begged as you had never heard him beg before.

Finally, you turned to look at him, your heart pounding, you watched his big round eyes, all of him, poorly lighted for the dark night, still you distinguished the gleam in his eyes, begging you, so needy it made your pussy lubricate more. You moved closer to his ear, not sure he can be conscious of formulating a good answer and said:

“How do you want me to touch you if we are in Changbin's car?”

“Just do it like this” he quickly replied, taking your wrist to direct your hand to his cock.

Another prick in your pussy, he was hard, so hard you could feel through his pants, Han moaned, enjoying the sudden friction and pressure of something on his cock, finally. You weren't sure whether to continue, but you thought fuck it all, it felt so good, along with Han's sweet, soft moans getting lost amidst the loud music of Changbin's car.

You bit your lip and continued, you stretched out your whole hand, pressing and feeling his whole erect member on the fabric of his pants, you squeezed and stroked it, your insides on fire, wanting to get on top of him rubbing yourself until you cum, but your mission was to make him cum, every part of your body trembled with excitement and sexual desire, never taking your eyes off Jisung, and your hand on his erection, he never shut up, you never thought your little friend would be so vocal about being sexually pleasured, you never thought of him sexually to begin with. Jisung cum in his underwear as he enjoyed every second of your hand stroking his cock, he cum so well that he let out a loud, muffled whimper that got Changbin worried.

You were barely smiling with satisfaction, when Changbin turned down the volume of the music and said, “Did you guys say something?”

You denied quickly and innocently, as if he could see you in the gloom, guiltily, like a small child who was about to be discovered playing a prank.

“No” you replied.

Han was catching his breath, unable to think of anything else but his orgasm and the feel of his penis somewhat sticky from his freshly ejaculated semen.

“Mmm, okay” Changbin added, “will you stay at Han's place or do you want me to drop you off at yours… although it would be better for me if you stay with Han, I'm almost there…”

Oh no, you thought, how were you supposed to go with Han, you wanted to go to your place and forget about the heat of the moment, but Han stepped forward to say, almost breathlessly:

“She'll stay at mine.”

“Fine” Changbin replied, turning up the music and leaving you no chance to argue your answer.

You noticed how Changbin was already pulling into the area of Han's apartment building and you felt so bad about touching Han in his car that you didn't even want to say anything else to him.

“Now let me help you” whispered Han in your ear.

His hand caressed your thigh and slowly went up while his face was still very close to yours; his hand reached your panties, making Jisung smile sideways.

“But what a naughty girl, you were seriously walking around only in your panties? Who do you think you are?”

You didn't answer and let yourself be carried away by his caresses on the fabric of your panties, gently stroking your folds, tickling you and bringing you to levels of desperation you never knew existed in your body. Han reached your clit, pressing it hard making you let out a soft squeal, he enjoyed it, the libido winning out over his drunken state and making his cock hard again, Han was so hungry to undress you, but even drunk, he knew he was with his other friend nearby. Finally, after torturing you by caressing you on the fabric, he found a way to pull the cloth away from your panties and finally stroke your bare and needy pussy, feeling his fingertips brush across your labia and refocusing on your very sensitive spot. You also returned to stroking and squeezing his erection, stimulating it. Han began to play with your clit, making you wet and causing you to tremble a little, you were so desperate that you would explode at any moment, you needed him filling your pussy, but for the moment his sweet, gentle and now and then slightly rough movements on your clit were enough to make you reach orgasm, closing your legs a little by reflex as you felt your fluids slipping from inside you. Han smiled, broadly, sliding your orgasm past your labia and ready to keep touching you; he was so close to his second orgasm, but you both felt Changbin's car pull up.

“We're here!” he announced, slightly happy to be getting rid of you for now.

You both took your hands off each other quickly and sheepishly thanked Changbin, getting out of his car and walking into the building where Han lived. You felt so embarrassed, every step you took you felt the sogginess of your vagina rubbing against your panties and Han had to go inside, watching his trusted employees, trying to hide his erection.

Once inside you waited for the elevator, Han staggering nervously and a little drunk, as you entered you realized you would be alone and, wasting no time, you pounced on him, savoring his sweet round lips, in passionate but agile kisses, tracing each other's body in desperation, feeling on your chin the slight roughness of his chin from his freshly shaved beard. You glued your body to his, feeling his erection, you had never felt this good, you were sure he would feel better than any other single guy you had ever slept with, he was your sweet and fun Han, you couldn't wait to jump on his cock once the elevator doors opened and took you straight to his apartment. And, finally there, Han awkwardly separated from you, quickly and abruptly undressing himself, causing you to tenderly giggle, you couldn't help but think he looked cute, but your smile was erased once he pulled down his pants and underwear, exposing his pink-tanned cock. You watched him closely, from his penis, moving your gaze upward running along his marked abs and pecs, you were dumbfounded, realizing that you were really fucking your friend. Your body heated up again and, before Han could say anything, you stripped off your dress and underwear.

“Fuck…” he whispered.

Jisung couldn't believe if it was a dream, or if the alcohol truly worked magic, he never thought he was capable of getting past you with more than innocent glances and small compliments…. and now he was there, his cock throbbing at your naked image, he gasped and you had no choice but to get down on your knees to take his sensitive cock with its tip dripping his glistening precum, you wanted his cock everywhere on your body, hitting your face, between your tits, in your mouth, in your pussy, his cock was just as attractive as he was and you were sure it would fit perfectly in every nook and cranny of your core.

He looked down at you from above, expectant and incredibly aroused, you started stroking his cock, feeling every texture of his member, from his slippery pink tip to his balls, you smiled as you heard him moan, you stuck out your tongue, stimulating his glans to see him quiver and finally, you took his cock with your mouth, rubbing it in every corner of your cavity, savoring every inch of your sweet friend. Jisung grabbed your hair, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, unable to believe how he was still standing and not fading away, it had been a long time since he had been sexually pleasured, let alone in the wonderful way you were doing it now.

You sucked hard on his cock, your head in a steady motion and pace, fucking his cock with your mouth as he kept moaning and babbling your name, your pussy was soaking wet, you were begging for action and attention down there, your whole body screaming it, but you were so focused on the way Jisung's glans hit all the way to the bottom of your mouth with ease, his throbbing muscle colliding with your tongue and, after an internal struggle, Han cum in your mouth, causing him to whimper, feeling with immense relief, him savoring the orgasm and you his hot cum in your mouth, thinking that from that night maybe nothing would ever be the same again but you would fuck him so well anyway.

You stood up, moving closer to him and kissed him, blending his cum in your mouth, boldly touching his tongue, rubbing both your sexes, your breasts with your hard nipples and just bringing both your bodies together because of the closeness.

“C'mon, Hannie” you said smilingly, taking hold of his wrist and leading him to the couch in his living room, you were excited enough to go all the way to his room.

You pushed Han slightly so that he fell onto the couch and finally positioned yourself on top of his lap, taking his cock with one hand while leaning on his shoulder with the other, he looked so fucking good, his big eyes wide open, darker than usual, full of lust, his smoothly exercised body… you never thought he'd be the first of the eight you'd fuck first and there you were, settling his glans at your entrance and letting yourself fall slowly, sliding his erect cock into your wet insides as you so desired from the first hot whimper you heard come out of his mouth in that backseat. You let yourself fall all the way down, gasping at the sensation, his cock being hugged by your walls had him a mess, a very needy and horny one; you stirred your body on his cock, jerking your body, rubbing your dripping wet pussy on his testicles, enjoying feeling perfectly filled for a moment. Han couldn't help himself and grabbed your breasts, fondling and squeezing them, you knew Han was… a guy who enjoyed tits more than anything. And you moved, his rigid length sliding into your core, you moving to get the perfect penetration at your pace as he kept playing with your tits.

“Fuck, y-you feel so good, oh, my” gasped Jisung, unable to speak clearly, lost in the softness of your walls performing a series of steady, frenetic movements as you bit your lip, panting and in concentration.

You rested and pushed with your hands on his thighs, but you were both so close to orgasm, you felt his cock swell inside you and Han groaned as he felt your walls suffocate his cock more; you kissed him before accelerating your movements, jumping endlessly, exhilarated, quickening your orgasm, your whole body tensing until you released in your sweet climax, allowing your body to expel every sexual pressure built up, spilling your fluids on your friend's cock.

“Mmm, fuck, I'm gonna cum too” warned Han whimpering.

Han squeezed your breasts hard and cum inside you too.

You mumbled a small mmm as you felt all your insides wet, full and slippery, still with his cock inside you, you dropped your body on Han's shoulder, trying to calm your heart rate.

And who would have thought, all that happened and Jisung only had two drinks and one shot of tequila.

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

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89

[lenny-link]

TF2 x SU au fusions!

oof this took too long but i finally made it !

I kept @gracefireheart Andalusite (HeavyMedic) and @cariocay ‘s Turquoise (EngieSpy) (that i just realized their account got deactivated just a few days ago im sad now) fusion designs because i just found them perfect and whenever i wanted to try making my own designs i always ended up with making something similar to theirs since i was very influenced so i just kept them! They’re so awesome plz check the original artists!

my designs :3 :

About the fusions:

I tried to choose a theme for every fusion that suits the characters like Spessartite (DemoSolly) is a warrior i put Demo’s sword with Soldier’s shield thing well he doesn’t specifically have a shield but yknow the helmet thing i thought that could work.

He’s very powerful, strong and jump into action without a second thought, while he possesses immense strength and a love for loud and chaotic things, his battle prowess is a double-edged sword since his attacks lack precision. however, this unpredictability often leaves his enemies confused and scrambling to defend. he fights more efficiently when drunk lol

Lepidolite (MedicSpy) is a plague doctor, he is very inspired by Hannibal Lecter (nbc Hannibal lol shout out to that one Anon who recommended it for me to watch it lol) at first i wanted to give him a bistouri as a weapon, since it would suit Medic’s saw with Spy’s small knife, but then i felt the fusion was leaning too much towards Medic than Spy, so i put a cane instead to give that old idk gentleman look :P

He is polished and sophisticated, with a hint of underlying sadism and very precise in his movements, he meticulously analyzes his opponents, exploiting weaknesses with surgical precision before jumping into action and strike right where it hurts the most, the cane appears to be a simple walking stick, but inside is a hollowed core that had a retractable, poison-tipped blade, and his poison isn't fast-acting he enjoys toying with his victims, watching as the venom slowly takes hold, fueling his twisted sense of amusement. they are far from being the strongest fusion but they rely a lot on making their opponent weaker by their ability to attack precise hits as well as poisoning them!

Carnelian (SniperScout) his design was inspired by a equestrian outfit (he was the hardest to design tbh bc i wanted his design to be specifically different from the others since Scout is half human so i wanted this "human" aspect to show in the fusion).

He is a walking paradox, he's got Sniper's calm confidence with Scout's hyperactive energy, he loves a good plan but his execution is often fueled by pure adrenaline, he can zip across the battlefield with incredible speed, dodging attacks and flanking enemies. good at mid range and long range attacks but weak at close range, has internalized monologues with himself a lot, he appears calm on the surface however, his foot constantly taps, he fidgets with his slingshot, he cannot stays in place for too long. enjoys taking challenges.

Rubellite (DemoPyro) is a robot with a 50’s cartoon style but with like a creepy vibe to it, their voice sounds like a broken radio perpetually stuck on a laugh track, is both infectious and unsettling.

They just as powerful as Spessartite but just a bit more agile and lean more on the defense style than offense, their body stretches in a cartoony way and battles become a twisted playground for them, a child's game where they hop and blow things up everywhere. they’re very joyful and loves to have fun while making chaos, they usually make jokes but no one understands their muffled voice so they often laugh all by themselves lol the weapon actually expands where the ball and the shaft of the mace connects there’s a chaine (i didnt draw it cuz there was already too much going on in the drawing lol) which helps them reach target from close to mid range easily, they twist and turn their body in very flexible ways before swatting their weapon at their target.

♠︎ If you want to suggest a pair for the next fusion please just comment here DO NOT send it in my ask box plz !!

And if you want to make your own fusion designs/fanart go ahead ! id love to see other people’s interpretations could be ! just don’t forget to tag me and add the tag ( tf2 x su au) :D

hope you enjoy !

+ early designs :

[arcielee]

Devotion

Summary: You are a Targaryen princess with an infatuation on a certain White Cloak. Paring: Ser Erryk Cargyll x Targaryen!Reader Word Count: 5.7k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, neglect, angst, unrequited love?, kissing, fingering, unprotected p in v, more angst, oral sex (m and f receiving), a mother's reprimand, lots of blood, death, more angst Author’s Note: Thank you my beloved beta reader @zaldritzosrose for looking this over and helping me this story. I Mushroom-tweaked it to fit the angsty plot. This started as an anon request and unfolded into so much more. It is dedicated to my darling @opheliax98 who encouraged "all the drama" of this piece. I hope it you enjoy it. 💜 You can also read it on ao3.

Your mother decided that you would return to the Red Keep as an envoy, because of your ability to hide in plain sight despite the poisoned word that first followed your steps–ilībōños, bastard. It was the same that was thrown towards your half-brothers, but with a tone as bold as their brown curls and brown eyes; they did not have the fortune of their Valyrian roots to hide under, their features often speculated as too Strong. 

You, however, were the first, albeit illegitimate, born of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, conceived the same night that her virtue was called into question. 

There was a bitter speculation of your origins that faded away with your birth; you were another nameless Targaryen princess that would decorate the family tapestry, another egg that turned to stone in the crib. Life in the capitol was lonely for you; your father was away in Pentos with his new family, while your mother remained preoccupied with her White Cloak, and then her Gold Cloak and new husband. There was an age gap between you and your brothers, your nephews and your niece, and it was an isolating chasm that placed you as an outsider, a spectator, with the unfocused eyes of the court looking through you. 

Your only company was your handmaiden, Elinda, but her loyalties reported back to your mother, and then your Septa, but her complaints were ceaseless, especially as you learned the pathways that Maegor the Cruel had carved into the Keep; they became your escape from her lessons. 

It was then your mother requested a knight from the Kingsguard to watch over you, and you mourned the little bit of independence acquired, assuming you would be assigned someone old, doddy, who served as another set of eyes that would only look through you. 

You were not expecting Ser Erryk Cargyll. 

To begin, he was only three years older than you–it was said his swordsmanship so impressed the Lord Commander that he also recruited his twin brother, bringing them both to King's Landing to serve in the Kingsguard. He was handsome, standing tall behind your mother, long and lithe. His ruddy complexion brought out the blue-gray of his eyes that showed unsure, almost shy with the introductions. 

You smiled at him and his lips curled upwards in response, a rose dusting to his cheeks. 

You liked him at once.

He was devoted to your shadow, almost rapt to your beck and call. The attention fed your girlish infatuation with the young knight, and you were always teasing him in a way that teetered on the edge of his duty and his oath with your coy questions and smirk. Ser Erryk was rarely rattled by you, but seemed more amused–he would answer you with a frank tone, a welcomed honesty, that ended with your title: it was always, “Yes, princess,” or “I shall see to it, princess.” 

It continued on for months until one evening, as he escorted you to your room, you asked him to call you by your name, to set aside the formality. You saw the brilliant blue of his eyes, bright amongst the flush of his features; his tongue wet his lips, searching for his voice. “I could never do that, princess,” he started slowly, his eyes flickering up again to look at you as if for the first time. You saw the dust of his freckles that burned bright against his skin. “My purpose is to keep you safe.” 

His voice was low, so serious, and it made your blood rise to the surface. You tried to laugh it off. “My purpose is to wait around until I am able to marry the highest bidder.” It was something that weighed heavy on your heart; your eyes fell away and your fingers grasped into the fabric of your skirts. “I know I will not be missed within these walls once I am gone.” 

“That’s not true, princess.” 

It startled you, and you peered back up from underneath your lashes, your heart vibrating against your skin. You watched Ser Erryk choke on his boldness, his regret knotting into his face before he settled on silence. You watched him go, the muted ensemble of his armor as he returned to the barracks below. 

That moment created something palpable that pressed overhead. You were too young, too rash to even know how to tactfully touch the subject again. The forced return to your norm left your bones aching; Ser Erryk doted on your steps, and you rambled on to drown out the incessant screaming of your heart within your chest. 

It spilled over at Driftmark. Your family went for the Velaryon funeral procession for Daemon’s wife, feeding further into the resentment that rifted within the house of the dragon. You slipped away and found Aegon in his cups, deciding to steal some of the liquid courage. When Ser Erryk found you, your eyes were glassy and your cheeks flushed. 

He sighed, shaking his head, reaching to help you stand, but you swore you saw the hint of a smile touching his lips. Ser Erryk said nothing, but wrapped his arm around your waist and matched his gait with your staggered steps to your room. You rested your head on his shoulders, enjoyed his smell of olive oil used on his sword and how it mixed with his perspiration. 

At the door, you felt his breath tickle your ear, “I will not speak of this to the crowned princess, but you should get some rest–” 

You spun to face him, your hands pushing on his breastplate to steady yourself on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to meet with his. Ser Erryk froze with your kiss, his White Cloak tightening like a vice. His palms were rough, but he was gentle to wrap your elbows and pull you back, his gaze rooting you to cobblestone. 

Moments ticked away with your beating heart that was now bruising against your bones before he finally said, “I cannot give you what you truly deserve, princess.” 

He said nothing else and your embarrassment fed the fire in your blood. You pulled away from him and slipped into your room, careful to close your door. Your back pressed against the carvings of sea creatures into the oak and you melted to the floor, your tears spilling to ease your girlish heartache. 

Elsewhere on the island, a dragon was claimed and bloodshed followed. The walls rattled as the king proclaimed his true loyalty and it ended with you being whisked away to Dragonstone. It was for the best, you decided, to leave your broken heart behind. You felt the tinge of hope when you learned that your mother and your father were finally together, and decided to set aside your infatuation of the White Cloak, but instead focus to aid your mother, to help solidify what your grandsire, King Viserys, had proclaimed to the Seven Realms. 

That she was to be queen. 

It had been six years since you last been at King’s Landing. It was now a place both familiar and strange. The same architecture rose above, shadowing over Blackwater Bay, though inside your ancestry of Old Valyria had been replaced, the Keep becoming a shrine to the new gods who had not yet paid their dues for such a show of devotion. 

As you entered through the Barbican, you smirked at the memory of the girl you were before, only ten and five, on the cusp of womanhood that required your gowns to be stitched to fit your slender frame. Now your figure filled your dresses, your curves pressing to the seams and your hair twisted and styled to showcase the dragonblood in your veins, that shined in the amethyst of your eyes. 

The queen was first to come and greet you. The handmaidens selected were controlled by Elinda, who watched their flurry to unpack. You looked up to see her lips pursed, her dark brown eyes washed over like you were a specter coming to haunt, like she wished for the earth to swallow you whole. 

“It has been requested–” her tone was queenly, but you noted that she would not mention how it was your mother that penned her a letter, “–for you to have a knight assigned. I was advised that Ser Erryk has served this role before.” 

His name caused your blood to roar in your head as you turned to watch him enter the room. Ser Erryk seemed taller, or perhaps that was how he now held himself, his pride set on his shoulders and onto his features that sharpened. He was still sinewy, though he seemed to fill out the armor hammered to fit his frame, polished and gleaming in the sun that streaked through; it burned bright in his copper hair that was brushed back to show his beard trimmed to fit his jaw. 

The coloring brought out his blue-gray eyes that shined almost unsure, almost shy. 

It kindled something within you that you believed to be gone, a feeling that washed away on the shores of Dragonstone and swept to the depths of the bay, buried in the sand. 

Ser Erryk looked at you and you could not help your smile. His lips ticked upwards and you felt your pulse flutter anew, seizing your heart again. 

Your iron-clad shadow followed after your steps, a devotion renewed, and it returned the muscle memory of his constant and comforting presence as you reacquainted with the old castle. Ser Erryk accompanied your rounds to visit with Helaena and her children, watching your brief exchange with each prince, and even briefer with the king who smiled when he called you Rhaenyra. Your knight then escorted you back to your room without a word, just the chink of his armor with his steps, echoing off the stone. 

You paused in the doorway, looking back to see his stance. As he watched you, your mind flittered with words but none could knit together. “Sleep well, princess,” he finally spoke with a small bow, excusing himself. 

The room had also been stripped of your Targaryen history, almost unfamiliar despite your chests unpacked. Elinda and the other handmaidens helped prepare you for bed, and a cup of wine was poured but your stomach would not hold it down. They left you alone and your quarters were now a gilded cage to contain you; you pulled on your pale, silk robe and finished half of the goblet, summoning your old courage to slip away.

The same panel opened with ease, but inside, basked in the amber light of torch set in a sconce, stood Ser Erryk with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Your mouth fell open and he grinned at you. “I take my oath with my heart, princess,” he reminded you. 

“How did you know–?” You stammered, licking the wine from your lips. 

He only shrugged, his eyes glittering in the fire. “You seem so very different, but also are still the same.” 

You pulled the panel closed to silence his chuckle. You finished the rest of the wine poured and returned to your bed.  

Your days at Kings Landing were idly filled. Your old Septa returned with her scrutiny of the woman you had become, her brow furrowing to find fault as you showcased your refinement of a lady mastered over the last half decade. Your afternoons were spent in the company of Helaena and her children, the only ones welcoming your return, with the littlest one, Maelor, especially taken with you. 

The time was spent in the gardens with a blanket sprawled out. Helaena would hum songs while the twins played their games. Maelor was content to sit in your lap, his eyes wide to discover whatever came within his chubby grasp. 

And Ser Erryk, your shadow, would stay close by, always. 

“He will draw his own blood to protect you.” The princess spoke suddenly, jarringly–it was a common happenstance with Helaena, you learned. Her every impertinent thought spilled off her tongue in riddles. 

Maelor’s eyes widened with his beginning grasp of the spoken word. You blew a raspberry onto his cheek to distract him, and he fell into a fit of giggles. “He would draw blood, but only if it was needed,” you corrected her, your voice low. 

Helaena only hummed in response, falling back into whatever song as she looked over the flowers that surrounded you both, watching the insects that lived amongst them. Her words remained with you, echoing in your head long after the moon began its silver stretch overhead. It guided your steps back to the panel in your room and you pushed it open. 

Ser Erryk straightened at once, his hand back on his pommel. “Princess? Why are you still–” 

You stopped him with a gentle touch on his breastplate, steadying yourself to rise on the balls of your feet until your lips pressed to his once again. But this time he responded, melting against–his lips were soft and warm, and his beard tickled your skin. 

You fell flat-footed to the floor with a smile spreading across your face; he was enraptured to watch the words that spilled from your lips. “I thought I had forgotten that night at Driftmark, but it seems what you said has embedded into my bones.” You felt light-headed, but also embolden by his gaze and the black that swallowed his murky cobalt eyes. “You once said that you could not give me what I deserved, but did you ever think you could give me what I want, what I desire?” 

It was a dam broken and he surged against you, pressing until your back touched the other side of the corridor. He reclaimed your mouth with a honeyed fervor that warmed your blood. Your fingers pull away the tie that held back his hair and combed through his silky copper spill. His fingers bruised into your hips, holding on as if you would slip away. 

You broke the kiss, breathless, your fingers knitting with his own and pulling him back into your room. It was a quiet exchange, littered with soft kisses, as you helped him remove his iron armor piece-by-piece, stacking the plates aside. 

He draped the white cape over a chair and looked to you. Underneath he wore a pale tunic and cream slacks, his outline pressing to the seams in a way that made your thighs clench. He stepped closer, his desperation more controlled, and pulled you into his chest, his thumb pressed to tilt your chin for a slow and searching kiss. 

You sighed and his tongue curled to taste, his fingers peeling away the bedtime silk that covered your skin. He worshiped every inch shown with his mouth, blooms of color decorating your skin. 

You helped him pull his shirt over his head, wanting to feel the heat of his skin, to feel the golden hair across his chest. His heart was vibrating beneath, and his arms wrapped around your waist with another kiss that pulled the air from your lungs. Ser Erryk tightened his hold to lift you and walk you backwards until you felt the edge of the bed touching the back of your knees; you sat down, your thighs plush and pink.

His hands cradled your jaw, tilting your head back to look at you. “Beautiful,” he whispered before leaning to capture your lips again. 

Your fingers curled at the nape of his neck to pull him towards you, moving back against the mattress. He followed, his skin flushed red and his eyes wide as you laid back into the pillows. He moved on top of you, gentle to touch you with soft caresses and lingering kisses, following your guide as you led his hand lower towards the intimacy between your thighs, wet and wanting. 

He trembled with his exhale as his fingertips split apart your velvet folds, his calloused touch careful to map the bloom of nerves above. You gasped with his testing touch and his smile curled into his blood stained cheeks; he moved softer, but quicker, until it elicited a sweet sigh. 

Ser Erryk was responsive, attentive to you. He was aware of your breathing and soft sounds, matching his ministration to pull something deeper within you, sparking at the base of your spine. It felt different from your own touch, this passion he pulled without your control, and you squirmed from the pressure building in your core. 

“Erryk,” you whined, your hips lifting against his hand.

He grinned, shifting to press a kiss underneath your jaw, and your skin rippled over in response to the contrast of his lips and his beard. “That’s it princess,” his husky tone was hot against your skin; your hands moved to hold him close, another pitiful mewl spilling. He shifted his hand, moving to curl two fingers within your cunt while his thumb pressed to your swollen pearl.  

“Erryk–!” you gasped, and your nails pressed red crescents into his shoulders. 

His brow was knitted with his concentration, moving to litter kisses along the column of your neck and to your collarbones–a gentle nip that bolted the length of your spine. He does not stop, his fingers coated with your slick with his rhythm that curled upwards into you, sparking a euphoria that poured white-hot into your blood, your heart bruising until you feel it rattling your bones. 

His other hand touched to return you back to your body; his palms rough but kind, following the curve of your stomach and resting to feel the rise and fall with your bated breath. You felt dizzy, blushing, and you blinked, looking down to see him watching you. He moved to give you another searing kiss that rekindled the same warmth pooling between your thighs. 

You kissed him back and spread your legs for his slender waist to slot in-between. He pulled his slacks lower, allowing the underside of his cock to spread your velvet folds, a heady but delicious pressure against your cunt. You pulled him in for a kiss and he groaned into your mouth as you canted your hips, your heart pulsing against his heavy cock. 

He was flushed. “I will be gentle, princess…”

You swallowed his words with another kiss, your legs knotting around to rut your hips against him. He panted into your mouth, his arm dipping to line himself with your entrance, and you clenched with your anticipation. 

Erryk pressed into you with a trembled control as your heat enveloped him fully. You were split apart with the most delicious fill; you mewled, pitiful, and his head fell forward, tucking into the curve of your neck. “Gods be good…” he rasped. 

Your fingers dimpled into his waist, encouraging his thrusts. His pace filled you sinfully, a slow roll of his hips that spurred a pleasure coiling within. You gasped against his chest, your nails biting into his skin as he quickened, going deeper, almost bruising. You felt your walls flutter around him, pulling another guttural groan from the back of his throat, his rasped whisper of your name buried into your hair. 

The euphony trilled your spine and you clenched with your second release. It pulled him over that precipice of pleasure, crashing like a tidal wave. Erryk melted against you, hot, pulsing deep within you, and you breathed in his skin, the same intoxicating scent mixed with olive oil and wax. 

He pulled away, the tender moment passing as duty resurfaced. 

You made a noise, pushing to sit upright and your head tilting to watch his heavy sway between his thighs as he walked back from the basin with a clean cloth in hand. Your eyes met with his and his brow arched in return, teasing; you caught his wrist and pulled him back into the bed, against your heart. 

Erryk twisted his face until it pressed into your skin, licking and kissing whatever his mouth could touch. You giggled, squirming until you could rest your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you. 

You did not want this night to end. “Do not leave me, Erryk.” 

“I am sworn to you, princess.” He reminded you, pressing his lips to your hairline. 

It was not what you wished to hear, but it was all you would get at this moment. You hummed, burying your face until his chest hair tickled, listening to the low thrum of his heartbeat. 

That night changed the monotony of the Red Keep. You thought of any reason to pull Erryk away from prying eyes; stolen kisses and touches that lingered, heating your skin. Your eyes now would flit to find him and see that he was always standing close, his gaze piercing through, settled onto you. 

When the sun tucked away into the horizon, he would slip through the passageway and back into your embrace, the intimate tangle of bare limbs abed with breathless kisses and secrets shared. He learned your body, an instrument to be mastered and a passion to taste you on his lips, staining his beard. He became your confidant, sharing the mutterings of the court; he was the one to warn you about the claimant for Driftmark. 

You wrote your mother at once.

It had been months since you left Dragonstone and you were excited to see her, your father and your siblings again. You were deciding on what gown to wear while Elinda was cleaning up, pulling your sheets away with a scowl on her face. 

You laughed at her expression. “What is it?”

She was perplexed. “I cannot recall your last moonsblood, princess,” she admitted, her lips pursed. “I feel that time seems to run itself together within these walls.” 

Her words ripped through you, but you said nothing, your expression as solid as the stones stacked to create the walls she referred to. Elinda finished tucking the corners before she noticed. “Princess! Are you okay–?” 

“I am fine,” you lied. “Help me with my dress.”

Underneath you were rattled, frightened with the revelation of life within you. Your disquiet settled away, disappearing once your mother arrived. You rushed to greet her, seeing her swollen with another heir in the making. Her silver brows knitted as she looked over the state of the Red Keep, and you wrapped an arm around your side, pulling you close to whisper: “It is even worse than what you described!” 

There was comfort in your mother’s arms and you pressed a kiss to her cheek. She looked at you a moment before her gaze fell back to Erryk, your ever dutiful-shadow noted. “Good ser, you have my eternal gratitude for keeping her safe.”

He was pink with her words. “Thank you, princess.” 

Her focus remained on him another moment before she looked back to you, her eyes now careful to comb over. You swallowed, unsure, and she said nothing as her attention was whisked away to her purposeful return to the Keep. 

The days that followed were tumultuous in the least, with a tension that spilled crimson on the floor of the Throne Room. Your stomach dropped from the wet sound of the two halves of Ser Vaemond hitting the stone floor, the smell of iron thick around you; Erryk moved in front of you to shield you away. 

King Viserys called for a supper that evening to mend the ever-growing rift, but instead emotions imploded, splitting the room in half. 

Erryk moved to wrap his hand around your arm at your mother’s command. Your father escorted your siblings and their betrotheds back to their rooms, his silver brow furrowing at you and your knight. 

Your footfalls echoed to keep with his pace, a numbed process of what had just happened. “I will have to return to Dragonstone,” you whispered when you felt certain it was just the two of you. “Wait for me.” 

Erryk looked at you before he stepped closer, cupping your jaw. It rooted you as he leaned to give you a chaste kiss, the warmth of his mouth searing through you. You stifled a sob when he pulled back to place another kiss to your hairline, another secret whispered against your skin. “I always have, princess.” 

Dragonstone was gray and dreary as you remembered, becoming a beacon for awful when the news came that the king was dead and that Prince Aegon II Targaryen now sat upon the throne. 

It wrenched through your mother and her hands pressed to her abdomen. The day waned with your father plotting at the very table the Conqueror laid plans, while your mother’s screams echoed throughout. You waited in the shadows, your hands pressing to protect your stomach; you prayed fervently to the gods, the old ones and the new, but they did not answer. 

A pyre was stacked for the bloody swaddle and you watched the flames swallow it, the heat licking your skin. Your mother was pale, her eyes empty as she watched the curl of smoke rise above, her morbid farewell to her child unborn. 

It was the swords unsheathed that pulled your attention, your heart pounding at the sound of his voice: “I mean no harm, brothers.” 

You swallowed your tears, watching as Erryk kneeled to the earth with his vow renewed. The setting sun gave an amber aura that reflected off the crown he pulled from his satchel, the same as King Jaehaerys’ and your grandsire after, the same that was placed on top of your mother’s head that commanded a rippled bow of respect from everyone around. 

Back inside, any unease was settled once Princess Rhaenys spoke of how he helped her escape from the Red Keep. Your mother forced a smile, her pain still haunting her features. “Your vow is to me, and to my family. You are to keep them safe, like before, like always.” 

And he nodded. 

With war burning on the horizon, its imminent threat that would swallow the Seven Realms, there was no moment spared where you could speak of the life created. You kept it cradled to your chest when you saw how war-wearied Erryk was already. His heart had been cleaved in two and one-half remained in charge of the usurper. 

It allowed a new desperation in the passion shared, a clash of teeth and tongues to taste whatever intimacy could be spared amidst the bloodshed. This ever-threat of life so fleeting is what pushed you to be bolder, which was why you were waiting for him outside the bathhouse one evening. 

You reached as he moved past you, your fingers tucking into his waistband to pull him into the shadows. Your royal apartment had a path that weaved as an escape, and tonight you used it to bring him back with you, to allow a moment to forget the inevitable that was coming. 

“Princess…” he started, but you stopped him with a kiss. 

“I missed you,” you confessed against his lips. “I need to feel you.”

Your room was basked in candlelight and you pulled him through the passageway, turning to dip your hand below his waistband, your hand pressed on his half-hard cock. It pulsed against your palm and you moved closer to place a kiss on his neck.

He sighed his pleasure and his torment. “Princess,” he tried again, but you would not let him. 

You nipped at his skin, halting his words, and he smothered a groan while your other hand pulled at his drawstrings. “Let me,” you breathed, and his skin rose in response. 

He felt heavy in your hands that wrapped around him. You stole another kiss before your chin dropped to your chest, your spit falling from your tongue and onto his cock. 

Erryk hissed as you stroked his length, watching as he jerked with another low moan. Your hand held onto his hip to lower to your knees, your other wrapping around the base and bringing his flushed cockhead against your tongue. You pressed a kiss and were rewarded with a groan that rumbled through him; your tongue trailed the side of his cock, feeling every vein and ridge, and you placed another kiss on the underside. 

His fingers combed through your hair, watching as you pulled back to watch you take him inch-by-inch, with your hand holding onto what could not fit. His hips bucked into your mouth, bruising the back of your throat, and you groaned, a heat pooling between your thighs. 

Your mouth and hand worked in tandem, working his cock until you felt it twitch with his pearly spend, his briny taste against your tongue. He shuddered, pulling back to sink to his knees, cupping your face and pulling you close for a messy kiss. 

“My turn,” he whispered, standing and pulling you to follow, his eyes lust-blown. 

You sank into the mattress and Erryk kneeled before you, an altar to be worshiped. His palm pressed to your cunt and his fingers spread your folds, allowing his tongue to run along your slit. You shivered as he pressed further, his tongue now carving into you with a well-known intimacy that made your toes curl. 

Afterwards, Erryk curled into you and your fingers ran through his still damp hair, the occasional pause to press another kiss to his scalp. “I am sworn to you,” he was quiet, his voice barely above your heart beat. “But you are so much more to me.” 

Your heart swelled in your chest. “I know,” you kissed your knight again. “I… love you too, Erryk.” 

He hummed against you, burrowing into the softness of your skin. His words replayed in your mind, giving you the courage that you needed, but your mother already called you to her chambers the next night. 

When you entered, she dismissed Ser Lorent, who locked the door behind him. Her eyes settled on you and your throat tightened. Her face was drawn, thinner, a woman shattered by all the blood spilled and plagued by the fact that more was yet to come. 

You remained standing, waiting as her eyes poured over you. She took a breath before she said, “I already know.” 

It was a relief, it was terror. Your stomach dropped and you looked to see Elinda busying herself with whatever her hands could find. Damn her. “I wished to tell you myself,” you admitted, your fists balled at your sides until your nails pierced through to the bones. 

Her eyes steeled in return, her jaw set. “Who is he?” 

Instead, you answer with, “I love him.” 

“That was not what I asked,” she snapped in a way that both you and Elinda flinched with her words that were scalding with her anger. “Your queen asked who is the father of the child that you carry.” 

But you saw her tears were threatening to spill, her face blotched with her anger. You pressed your hands to your stomach, the new habit formed over the last few weeks. “It is Ser Erryk Cargyll.” 

She closed her eyes, a fury now thrumming. “I should have fucking known…” 

“And how is it any different from what you shared with Ser Harwin?” You could not stop your tongue, her temperament reflecting. 

“You truly wish to repeat the follies of my heart, you daft girl?” She hissed, her tears spilling. “We are on the cusp of a civil war because… I allowed my heart to choose instead committing to the duty that I am bound to by my blood, the very same within your veins.” Her hand pressed to her chest, a sob caught in her throat. “And that choice is the consequence that I now suffer every day.” 

You wanted to glare, to fight back, but you saw her torment. Her tears spilling called to you and you moved to her bedside, melting into her. She fell into your arms with sobs that wracked her body. She held onto you and you remained, allowing her grief to pour over. 

Behind, you heard the other door opening. Your mother looked up from your chest, wiping her face. “Ser Erryk?” 

A cold-fire twisted into your stomach when you saw him, knowing at once that he was not the man you were in love with. The imposter knight stepped closer, unsheathing his sword. He sounded pained. “Believe me, I had no choice.” 

“Brother!”

Over his shoulder, you saw Erryk, his sword drawn and his eyes wild. “Do not do this. I beg you.” 

There was a clash of steel, of heartbreak and betrayal. Your mother screamed at Elinda, but she remained cemented to the cobblestone, stricken with her fear. She grabbed your hand to pull you from the bed, your legs buckling and your heart screaming to stay. You followed after your mother, remembering too late that the door was locked, and you looked over the room for a weapon, an escape. 

Erryk yelled when the sword cut through his thigh. 

Your fear pulled you outside of your body to see your hands resting to shield your stomach, the smell of blood rich in the night air. You prayed to the gods, a cursed habit, and again, they ignored you. 

You blinked to focus. Arryk fell first, a sword splayed through his stomach, and you looked to Erryk, your relief fleeting when you saw the dagger buried between his ribs. He looked at you, his knees buckling, collapsing to the floor with the clatter of iron. 

Your mother ran for the door, screaming for the maesters, for anyone to come and aid. You rushed to his side, your slippers slick in the blood that was pouring out on the stone, staining the pale silk of your nightgown. You lifted his head to rest on your lap, your trembling touch unsure if you could even staunch the scarlett flow. 

“I cannot do this without you,” you pleaded, your hands pressing around the hilt; his blood bubbled between your fingers. “I need you, Erryk. Our babe needs you!”

Erryk looked at you as if you were the sun itself, a dawning realization that washed over with your words. Your heart wrenched from your chest when you looked at him, a choked sob when you saw the red that stained his smile. 

His lips parted, but no words would come. Instead you watched as the blue of his eyes faded to gray with his last breath.  

You leaned over him, your tears spilling, and you pressed a kiss to his brow, your blood-stained fingers gentle to cradle the head of your devoted knight.

hotd masterlist || arcie's navi

[acotarxreader]

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

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“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?” 

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

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

“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 

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

Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

Part Two

[ssahotchnerr]

no but imagine pre-relationship aaron with fem!reader who can fall asleep anywhere & in the most uncomfortable positions known to mankind 💀 aaron is both terrified and amazed bcs how do you keep doing that 😧 but then every time he sees you like that he slowly & carefully arranges you in a more comfortable position 🥹🫶🏻 & the team gives him shit for it 💀

(luvie can I be 🪷 anon 🥹🫶🏻)

makeshift

omg stop i love that cw; fem!reader, bau family banter, pining aaron <333

falling asleep in a federal prison, may seem like a hard thing to do. surrounded by the worst of the worst, distant yells from the inmates floating down the hall, the mere location itself. but apparently, not for you.

the facility was currently on lockdown, meaning no one was going in or out, and therefore you were stuck overnight. as a result, the warden offered one of the locker rooms to be strictly the bau's 'break room', so to speak.

after his last, rather unpleasant interview of the evening, aaron was hellbent on a fresh, but not very good, cup of coffee. as he pushed the door open and entered, his focus diverted straight to you.

you were laid across a steel bench - eyes closed, hands clasped over your stomach, absolutely gone to the world. however, if you moved an inch - or probably less - would you completely topple onto the hard floor.

"you're kidding." aaron deadpanned as he looked at you in pure astonishment, coffee long forgotten.

"she's been like that for thirty minutes now." jj commented from where she was leant against one of the sets of lockers, head bent down as she scrolled through her phone. "but are we surprised?"

"nah," derek snorted lightly. "but hey, better than the floor."

"tell me about it." a low grumble came from reid, somewhere.

aaron's face pulled into one of discomfort, his brows drawing into a line above his eyes. the surface you were asleep on, had to be cold, for starters, by nature of the material and the a/c was still kicking in high gear despite the cooler temperature outside. the flat metal had to be highly uncomfortable, no cushion underneath you at all, most likely digging into your shoulder blades. you'd inevitably be waking up to an angry back, which aaron knew from experience - from past events where you miraculously drifted off in questionable positions.

eager to lessen the outcome, aaron shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders. he balled it up, situating it snug under his arm.

next, he crouched beside you, cradling your head in his hand as he lifted it gently. at the movement, you stirred, a small noise escaping you and aaron froze, waiting for you to settle back down before resuming his actions. part of him feared his current, drumming heart would somehow rouse you more.

but once you had, he slid his jacket underneath your head - a makeshift pillow. it wasn't much, but it would at least alleviate some of the pressure collecting in your neck, and you wouldn't be as sore when you awoke. the next thing he had to figure out, something to lay on the ground, on either side of you, to soften the fall in case you were to-

"that's real cute hotch." derek grinned, grabbing aaron from his thoughts. "when you make up my bed next, can you add one of those pillow chocolates? thanks."

"funny."

aaron stole a glance at you, a calmness brushing over him and the ends of his lips daring to tug upwards into a smile. he couldn't help himself - sure, he wished you weren't fast asleep on a bench that could cause potential harm if you budged, but it didn't hide the fact that you were, well, you.

his hopeful, hidden attempt didn't go unnoticed by one person though, who naturally had to open their big mouth.

"that's nothing compared to that case in montana," aaron shot dave a pointed look to quit it, but only got a wink in return. "hotch practically carried-"

"dave."

"aaron." dave quipped back, an eyebrow quirked high in amusement, but fell silent. although, his witty expression didn't falter, as if he were noting to aaron that it wouldn't be difficult at all to be persuaded to continue.

"whoa whoa there, rossi," morgan straightened his posture, a hand out. "go on."

[chuluoyi]

HAPPY MARRIAGE

- nanami kento x reader

“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love

genre/warnings: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!

note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3

listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

No divorce ever comes easy.

When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.

When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.

Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.

“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”

Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—

“Gojo, you prick!”

Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"

Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”

"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"

"Wha—"

"Because of you!"

"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"

You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"

Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.

"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."

Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.

He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"

You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"

"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"

"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"

You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.

And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.

. . .

He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.

More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.

Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.

Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.

Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.

“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”

Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...

“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”

“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”

He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.

“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”

"Nanami-san, you okay?"

He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."

"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.

Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."

Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.

Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."

Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.

It might verge on invading his privacy, but—

"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."

To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."

"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."

"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."

"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"

Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.

"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."

"But still... now—"

To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:

"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."

Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."

Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”

In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.

It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.

“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”

Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.

It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.

"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"

You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...

And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."

That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.

"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"

You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good then."

Silence. This was the absolute worst.

Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.

He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"

You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."

Darn it. Another dry reply.

"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."

"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."

"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."

Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.

"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.

"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.

Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?

"I can take care of myse—"

"That's a whole load of bullshit!"

Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?

The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.

“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”

"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"

Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.

Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—

Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.

"Oiii, Nanami!"

He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.

"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"

"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."

“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”

“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”

What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”

But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"

"What exactly is she not good with?"

"Everything? You never ask her."

This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.

"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."

With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—

He knew you were there, hearing all of this.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."

. . .

There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.

But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.

But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.

By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.

Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.

You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.

At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.

Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.

This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.

If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.

Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.

"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"

And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.

Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."

"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"

For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.

"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"

Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.

Until—

"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"

...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

You're hurt?

"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"

Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.

"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"

"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.

At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.

Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?

This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—

To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.

Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—

Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?

Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.

Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.

And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—

Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—

Huh, what?

The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.

"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.

His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.

“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”

“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”

“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”

“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”

“Gojo did—”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”

“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”

If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”

He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.

Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?

Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”

"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."

"Y/N, you're missing the—"

"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"

Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.

"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"

"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"

"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"

"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"

You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.

But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.

Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.

"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"

"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.

It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.

Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?

. . .

And that was when he decided it.

He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.

Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.

You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.

After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."

But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."

You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.

At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—

"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.

Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.

"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.

"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."

Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.

"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."

Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?

"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."

Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.

"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.

"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"

"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."

And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—

"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."

The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.

There was only one answer you had in mind.

Five years later

"Yes! Yes! Yay!"

Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.

The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.

The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.

As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.

"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"

"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.

Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"

"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."

"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."

"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."

Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.

Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...

And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.

[wheeboo]

to love and be loved | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo tells you about his first (and only) love. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers WARNINGS. self-doubt talk on reader's end, self-indulgent wooweee, this was painfully hard to write lmao n have no idea if any of this makes sense WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from anon: Hiiiiiiii first of all congratssss for you 2k. For the event, ive been thinking the same exact story with wonwoo and #6 from list 3 - #6: “You’re not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You just… Need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

notes: i'd quite literally do anything to have these kinds of talks with wonwoo ☹️☹️. anyway i hope u all enjoy this <3 hits close to home >< tysm anon hehe <3

join the 2k celebration!

"Hey, uh, Wonwoo?"

"Mhm?"

"...have you ever been in love?"

A cricket chirps into the evening air right after you ask, and you suddenly feeling like you're holding in a long-winded breath. Then you hear a loud crunch by Wonwoo from the crackers he was snacking on, and you blink up to him wiping away the corner of his mouth. There's the slightest glimpse of a curve to his lips that you manage to catch.

He silently offers you a cracker in your direction, the anticipating silence between the two of you growing thickly. You take the cracker from his hand, muttering a quiet thanks, before nibbling on it absentmindedly.

The night is absolutely beautiful right now, swearing that you could spot and make out the constellations above if you squinted hard enough. The distant chirping of crickets is the only sound that breaks the silence as the coolness of the night rolls in, carrying with it slight breeze that whispers through the leaves overhead the balcony of your apartment.

"I have."

You swiftly turn your head to him, eyes widening intriguingly. "You have?"

The chuckle that leaves him is somewhat awkward, a tad bit hesitant. He crumples up the bag of crackers and sets it aside, chugging down the last sips of his drink and setting down the empty can as well.

"Did you... ever confess to them?" You ask, suddenly feeling curious, though there's a bit of disappointment at the tip of your tongue.

You swear you could see the thoughts swirling around his head. Wonwoo keeps his eyes fixed up to the night sky. There's a distant look in his eyes, as though he's peering into some past moment that only he can see, before he shakes his head, a faint smile crossing over his lips.

"No, I didn't," he answers calmly. "They were too far away, so... I just chose to admire them at a distance."

You lean back against the wall behind, your shoulder momentarily brushing against his. "Did they know you?"

Wonwoo purses his lips together. "Mhm."

"Well, you missed your chance!" You exclaim, prodding him playfully with your elbow. "I can't believe you let them get away, dude. Like right through the little cracks of your fingers. You could've been in a relationship by now."

This earns you a low, playful scoff from Wonwoo. "Are you assuming that they loved me back?"

Immediately, you feel the heat crawl up your neck and to the tips your ears.

"Well, um... Yeah, I am," You admit sheepishly, letting out a small sigh. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for a guy like you? You're nice and... charming. I think anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

There's a silence that falls between the two of you, one simply more than just comfortable yet denser than ever, because the thought of being loved by Wonwoo seems to linger longer than you notice. You steal a glance at him, seeing his face still turned upwards towards the night sky and the moonlight reflecting on his glasses. Strands of his dark hair blow across his forehead in the breeze. You can't quite decipher his expression, but a flicker of something𑁋perhaps surprise, maybe even amusement𑁋dances on his features for a brief moment.

He finally turns back to you, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "You think so?"

"Yeah," You confirm, nodding lightly. "Absolutely."

Wonwoo still keeps his eyes on you as you glance away, seeing the way you fidget with your hands in your lap and smoothing out the creases in your pants nervously. He glances down at his own hand and back at yours, lips pursing together in contemplation, but only folds his fingers back together the second you reach over him to grab the crumpled-up bag of crackers. He feels a little bit too warm in his sweater right now.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

A crunch echoes through the air. Then another. And another.

"I've just been kinda... thinking a lot lately, I guess," You reply slowly, quietly. "And it sort of makes me sound desperate in a way, but there are times I just wonder if, um... if anyone has ever felt the same way about me."

Wonwoo tilts his head slightly. "Love?"

"Not just love, but... seeing me, you know?" Being able to talk about this out loud makes your chest feel heavy. "Since it's hard these days to find someone who sees you for who you are, not for who you can be. I... I just feel like I'm hard to love sometimes. Hell, maybe even unlovable. It’s hard to break out of that mindset when things get hard again.”

A thoughtful quietness seeps through the nighttime breeze, which sends goosebumps up and down your skin, but you don't mind it because you know that Wonwoo is listening either way. And the more you think about it𑁋the thought of knowing that he's here, with his presence is right next to you𑁋it seems to comfort you more than you notice.

There's a small hum of acknowledgement that you hear from his end, unsure if it's just your imagination or if he's actually responding as your mind feels a little jumbled up right now. But then Wonwoo shifts beside you, his arm lightly pressing against yours.

"But I... I think I've reached a point in time where I can say I love myself a little more than a few years ago, or last year, or even just yesterday," You continue to ramble a bit aimlessly, chuckling dryly to yourself. "It’d be nice to share that with someone too, you know? To finally get over this loneliness. But it's not entirely a sad loneliness or a happy one. It's, like, uh... both put together, I guess."

A few moments of silence pass. You feel Wonwoo gently nudge your leg with his.

"I'm proud of you."

You peer up to look at him, mind nearly going blank from the way he's gazing at you. Or maybe it's just the moonlight that's making him appear so... picturesque. "What for?"

"For loving yourself, silly," Wonwoo muses almost cheekily, and the delighted tone that you catch makes your stomach leap. "Even if it's just by a small percentage than yesterday, it's still okay. You're doing good. I want you to know that."

You're doing good. It's just those three singular words that has heat forming in your eyes that you somehow manage to blink back before anything could spill, and hearing it come from Wonwoo feels different. There's a vulnerable sweetness to them, a sincerity that catches you off-guard. You force a smile𑁋a grateful one, nonetheless𑁋before it shifts into a frown.

And Wonwoo catches it right away. "What's wrong?"

Your lips form a thin line, pressing together in thought. You refuse to acknowledge why you think your heart feels slightly... jealous.

"I hope whoever you loved before knows how lucky they are one day," You say to him. "if you're still in love with them, that is..."

Wonwoo stills for a minute, pensively. "I am."

"You are?"

"I never stopped."

You stare at him for a few moments, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief at him, before crossing your arms together and letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "Then you should've said that you're in love with them, idiot."

Wonwoo sucks in a breath.

"I'm in love with you."

You blink instinctively, once, twice, three times, momentarily thinking that Wonwoo's presence might somehow disappear into thin air. But he's still there𑁋a certain softness in the way he's looking at you, a gentleness that seems to wrap around you like a warm embrace𑁋waiting for you. His words suspend heavily in the air, and maybe the world is also holding its breath just as you are too.

"And... You're not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You're far from that," Wonwoo continues, voice tender, fond, and soft as a lullaby. "You just... need to let me in, and let me show you you're just as worthy of love as anyone else is."

You could only sit merely frozen at this point, throat tightened and jaw dropped in shock among many other weird, fuzzy feelings happening throughout your body. Something between relief and disbelief. Hope and hesitancy. Comfort and uncertainty. You have the capacity to run yet you choose not to𑁋you're letting him in, letting the warmth of his words seep into the cracks of your doubt.

Your mind reels dizzily, almost like the world has been tilting away off-balance.

"You... You're in love with me?" You repeat, almost dumbly, because you cannot seem to fathom anything that's been said in the past few moments. "All that talk about earlier... about who you..."

Wonwoo hangs his head down low, rubbing at his neck in a bashful manner. "It was about you."

"And you never... you never told me?"

"Honestly, I'd like to think a part of it was you being a tad bit oblivious." And then he just simply grins, his nose crinkling along with it. "But that's okay. Watching you slowly figure yourself out made me realise that maybe I needed to find myself a little more too."

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading painfully throughout your face. At first, you have the urge to brush it all away as a silly misunderstanding. Maybe laugh it off, retreat back inside, and go to sleep pretending all of this didn't happen. But the sincerity in his eyes stops you.

You lick your dry lips, the cool night air beginning to feel a lot less suffocating.

"Did you?" You ask vaguely, before shaking your head repeating, "Did you... find yourself?"

Wonwoo lets his eyes roam over you, taking you in, before leaning back on the wall and bringing his gaze back up toward the night sky. Your eyes refuse to leave him, and perhaps this is what it's like to admire someone from afar and close up all at once.

The two of you take a deep, deliberate exhale together.

"Yeah," he answers, smiling softly. "I think I found myself right where I want to be."

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[purinfelix]

plsplsplspslpsl write calling bf barca boys (pedri, fermin, joao) + jude bellingham "bro"

"bro"

featuring: pedri, fermin, joao, gavi (i had to include my bby sorryyy!) and jude warnings: teensy bit cringe at times, be warned ...

a/n: once again apologising for being ia, but an eternal thank you to anon and every one else who's still interacting with me and sending me requests!! trying my best to get through them, thank you all for your patience &lt;333

You don’t remember how it had happened honestly, the two of you had just been hanging out in his bedroom, a situation you had come to find comfort in since its frequency had become almost like a routine to the two of you. The air outside was cool, giving the two of you an excuse to curl up together under the blanket and binge watch episodes of your favourite show in a comfortable silence. That was, of course, until you heard the chime of your phone - causing you to perk up out of your boyfriends arms.

“Bro, could you get that for me?”

Pedri

Honestly he doesn’t think much of it at first, since your guys’ relationship has always been pretty casual in the way that you both trust each other enough not to overreact. He reckons that it probably slipped out by accident, and given that it’s what most of his teammates and friends call him, he doesn’t react that much. Sure, he noticed it, and filed it away to the back of his mind as a sign that you might be mad with him but he’s a pretty calm boyfriend only offers an amused eyebrow raise.

It’s only when he leans over and grabs your phone do you realise what you’ve said - but only decide to double down on it to get a reaction out of him.

“Thanks bro,” you say as nonchalantly as you can manage when he hands you your phone, immediately going to respond to whatever message had caused the notification sound. And at first it seems like he’s not going to indulge your obvious bait for a reaction - of course until you hear the rustle of bed sheets and his strong arm snake around your waist.

He lets out a soft mumble that roughly translates to - “What is it baby?” - as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in a loving, yet almost pleading manner. It doesn’t take long for you to give in to his charms.

“I’m only messing with you,” you giggle, patting the top of his head reassuringly.

Fermin

If there’s one thing you know about Fermin, it’s that he’s observant. However, another thing about him is that he’s a sly little shit. So whenever he feels he can sense you trying to prod at his temper it only ends in him serving you back your own attitude.

“Of course, bro,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at him as he turns to grab your phone, you can tell he has a wide smirk spread across his face.

You only give him a knowing look, and try your best to maintain your composure while stifling your laughter - but the minute he drops your phone into your hands you know he’s not going to back down on this.

“Thanks, dude,” you quip.

“Any time, my man.”

Silence, and you’re trying to figure out your next comeback while ignoring the weird way him calling you ‘my man’ made you feel. You feel oddly stupid for starting a game you know you couldn’t keep up with, but luckily your boyfriend has already caught wind of this by the look of amusement on his face.

“Something wrong, mate?” he chuckles as he leans over to peck your lips that you hadn’t realised had formed a pout. All you can do is sigh in faux-exhaustion before erupting into a fit of laughter.

Joao

It’s only once he’s reached over to grab your phone, that he clocks the odd new nickname. Immediately, but silently, his mind starts racing through the possible reasons as to why you’ve bestowed it upon him - did he do something wrong? He did only kiss you twice before leaving for training that morning, and he did accidentally move away from you when the two of you were cuddling earlier. He’s worried, but he’s also up to play your game if need be.

His grip on your phone tightens, and you hear his voice low, daring - “What was that darling?”

You truly meant it as an accident this time, and he manages to snap you out of it with his words. “Oh, sorry, babe,” you correct yourself and he nods as if to silently say that’s better.

You get your phone from him, and a quick kiss on the cheek before he settles back to wrapping his arms around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck so he can look at your phone next to you.

Gavi

Whilst something like being called “bro” might not matter to most other guys, it definitely did to your boyfriend. His reaction to your words was immediate, his head whipping up from where he had been laying beside you, eyes round and pleading.

“What?” his voice was quiet, almost unbelieving and you had to try your best not to laugh at how dramatic your boyfriend’s reaction was. Still, a small chuckle escapes your lips, only making you feel worse as a small pout forms from his lips.

“Sorry, it slipped out,” you reassure him, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek lovingly. He furrows his brows as if to pose the question - are you sure? But you only take this as a sign to mess with him, just a little more.

“What, you don’t like me calling you bro?” You’ve completely forgotten about your phone at this point.

“No, definitely not.” He’s oddly serious when he says this, but this only adds to how amused you are by this situation.

“Alright baby,” you hum out your apology, trying your best to further express this through your thumb on his cheek - and luckily he seems to get the message. Before you know it, he’s melted back into your arms, your fingers curling lazily around his hair.

Jude

“What?”

Jude is quick with it, turning to you immediately as soon as the word leaves your mouth with an expression that makes you realise your mistake all too quickly.

“Bro?” he asks again, almost daring you to repeat it, but the shocked laugh he lets out reassures you he isn’t taking it to seriously - only getting an unfair amount of amusement from your mistake.

“Whatever, babe, there,” you say in mock-annoyance, not wanting to let him get the better of you.

“Nuh-uh, you called me bro,” he pushed, leaning in close to you, his voice teasing.

“It was an accident, okay?”

“Sure,” he hums, finally grabbing your phone and handing it to you, all the while having a stupid smirk on his face, “I’ll just have to start calling you mate or something, yeah?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter through pouted lips and he finally gives up the act, settling back by your side and pecking your cheek as an apology.