#they just instinctively keep me at a generous distance

[calcichel]

Thank you to everyone who has shared such beautiful pieces of their lives in response to this post. I love hearing how you feel about your friends, and that this sort of love can exist, and can really be mutual, without strings attached, without it being possessive, without it compromising you. I hope I hear more stories like this. I wish the whole world could be full of them.

Looking for some insights from the aro community...

If you're an aromantic person who is not in a romantic relationship but who feels like they are abundantly (or at least sufficiently) loved... can you talk a little bit about what your situation is, and how you found the people you did? It would really help me to hear some happy stories right now...

[mggslover]

‘spencer’s “first” time showing you his jealous/possessive side’. bau reader and spencer just started dating and are a bit reserved when it comes to showing affection in the office. a new agent starts flirting/trying to get readers attention and for the first time spencer make sure everyone knows who his girl friend is <3 thank you !!!

the first time spencer gets jealous genre: fluff word count: 965 a/n: oh how i love this prompt!! thanks for the request

Spencer Reid wasn’t big on PDA, so it didn’t surprise you when he suggested keeping your relationship under wraps once it became official. You didn’t mind much—sure, it was a little frustrating when he’d pat your hand away at the round table or create distance the morning after a particularly fun night, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you—but in general, you were glad to keep things private. You had no problem avoiding the “no dating between coworkers” policy drama, and it gave you the opportunity to focus on the cases and enjoy Spencer’s company even more when you’d sneak off home together at the end of the day. 

So, when you found yourself chatting with the new addition to the team—Agent Owen Rogers—you didn’t expect the effect it would have on your boyfriend.

“Of course he’s taken an interest in her. That woman makes everyone fall head over heels,” Penelope half-sighed, her voice a mix of awe and envy as she watched you talk to Owen from the office window. Her words caught Spencer’s attention, and he turned to the scene, spotting you mid-conversation. He recognized the looks his colleagues were giving Owen—those same dreamy, admiring glances they'd had for Hotch’s brother whenever he visited the office.

Spencer’s posture stiffened as the understanding sank in. If he were being honest, he’d liked the new agent when they first met, but now, seeing the way Owen was smirking at you as he moved closer, that initial fondness had quickly morphed into distaste. He could still hear his colleagues gushing over the agent as he quickly got up and headed down the stairs toward you.

“So, I was thinking Italian? Do you like Italian?” Owen asked, his voice upbeat.

Before you could even open your mouth to turn him down, you felt the familiar warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.

“We love Italian.”.

You stood there, completely bewildered, as your boyfriend not only inserted himself into the conversation but also made the boldest display of possessiveness, wrapping his arms around you without a second thought. It was so un-Spencer-like—especially in the office—but you weren’t about to complain, your hands instinctively resting over his arms.

“Actually, Owen—I can call you Owen, right?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation before continuing. “You know, it’s fascinating how often people pick Italian food for a first date. Objectively, it’s a terrible choice. Think about it: you’ve got these long, slippery noodles—spaghetti, for instance—that are practically designed to humiliate you. The odds of splattering marinara sauce all over yourself—or worse, your date—are alarmingly high. And then there’s the garlic. People convince themselves that a mint will magically erase it, but we both know that’s just a delusion. Why anyone still thinks it’s a good idea is beyond me. Kind of stupid, don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, struggling to suppress your laughter as Owen’s face crumpled. You truly felt sorry for the poor thing—he really was a nice guy—but seeing Spencer get this sassy, especially when it was all because of you, was strangely entertaining.

“I—uh, yeah.” Owen gives a nervous laugh, his fingers awkwardly brushing the back of his neck. “Pretty stupid.”

“But we’d love to have Italian food with you! Right, baby?” Spencer gives your waist a subtle squeeze, his silent cue for you to play along.

You cough slightly, trying to cover your laugh. “Right! Yes, totally—Italian sounds great.”

“Yeah, that’s cool, guys. But, uh, now that I think about it, I’m swamped. You know, being a new agent and everything.” Roger’s voice wavers just enough to betray his weak excuse.

“So unfortunate. Maybe another time,” Spencer replied smoothly. Owen nodded stiffly, forcing a tight smile before quickly walking off.

You scoffed a laugh as Owen disappeared down the bullpen, the shock still lingering. You turned to Spencer, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“What in the world has gotten into that pretty head of yours?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a little, suddenly aware of how much of a spectacle he had just made in the middle of the office.

“He was asking you out,” he said quietly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You chuckled, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I was just about to say no.”

His arms found their way back around your waist, leaning into your touch as if he’d forgotten where he was. His eyes flickered from your hands to your face, his expression softening. “I know you were. But he should know not to ask you.”

You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, amused by how the man who’s so intent on keeping your relationship discreet in public is now letting his clingy nature shine through.

“You know he can’t smell that I’m taken, right?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Well, maybe we should change that,” Spencer whispered, his voice low as he leaned in, his face brushing against your neck, causing you to giggle.

Unbeknownst to you, the whole team had quietly tiptoed their way down the stairs, and gathered around on the other side of the bullpen. They stood there, wide-eyed, like they were watching an episode of their favorite drama.

“Derek… Am I seeing this right?” Garcia whispered, voice dripping with curiosity as she watched Spencer's face disappear into your neck.

Morgan’s chuckle echoed through the bullpen. “Oh yes, babygirl. You’re seeing it just right.”

Spencer’s grip on you tightened as he sensed the peering eyes, but instead of discomfort, he radiated a quiet pride. He wasn’t hiding anymore—he was proud of what you shared, proud to be yours, and for you to be his, and he wanted the world to know it.

[grandline-fics]

Hello! Hope your having a good day today! Can I request mihawk, shanks and buggy with the prompt "sleeping separately after an argument" You can just do one of the characters listed if your busy! Or change them into a different character it's totally fine with me! - 🪼

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Sleeping separately after an argument

WARNINGS: slight angst, arguing couples, ends in comfort 

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy

WORDS: 4,199

A/N: Thank you for this request! It's my first Buggy request and first time writing for him so I hope he's to your liking. I tried to keep things varied with these and are on the long side to include a happy ending.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

MIHAWK

“So what? You were never going to send word to me that you were safe?” You’d demanded glaring at your lover that you hadn’t seen in months. Ordinarily you were used to the time and distance apart but he was always in contact with you in some regard. This time however you had no idea about his whereabouts, not until that stupid poster fluttered out of your morning newspaper and you travelled across the sea to Cross Guild to see him for yourself, otherwise you doubted he’d have ever contacted you. 

“Well you would have known from the poster’s existence that I was perfectly safe.” Mihawk answered coolly. He hated how he was speaking to you but in his clear view of the world, in the long run this would be best. Underneath his calm exterior, seeing you stroll into Cross Guild had both sent a mix of conflicting feelings through him. On the one hand he loved the sight of you and wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and welcome you properly. On the other he felt unnerved. He hadn’t been expecting you, if he had known perhaps his approach would have been more thought out but you were the only person to ever rattle him.

All he knew was he needed you gone so he could clear his head and he needed you out of Cross Guild before Crocodile came sniffing around. Acting on instinct, he’d abruptly taken your arm and led you out of the room filled with people. He didn’t need them listening in on any private conversation of his. However you’d only let him get as far as the corridor before you pulled out of his grip and began to interrogate him over his actions. Mihawk refused to tell you the truth, he refused to admit his only worry. Now that he no longer had the protection of Warlord, you would have a clearer and larger target on your head if anyone knew you were romantically involved with him. As much as he knew you could look after yourself he didn’t want to bring any added hassle to your life, nor did he want you to change your life by remaining in Cross Guild just to give him the peace of mind you were safe. “You’ve wasted your journey coming here.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Dracule.” You snarled meeting his steady, impassive stare with your own burning in intensity. You knew he was being guarded for a reason but after all this time you were frustrated and hurt that he wasn’t being honest with you. After all you’d handled together and after proving you were strong enough to be considered his equal, he still wanted to push you away. “You don’t get to stand there and throw some generic one-liner at me. I know you better than that and I deserve better than that. Now talk to me properly and explain yourself.”

“Since when have I ever had to explain my movements?” Mihawk asked arching an eyebrow at you while you continued to glare daggers at him. It never ceased to amaze him that you could always meet his stare. “Cross Guild is new and needed my entire focus, you would have just been an unwelcome distraction and a possible liability.” 

As much as his words hurt, they baffled you even more. Hopelessly you stared up at the man in front of you, trying to understand. None of it made sense. You both knew your lives took you in separate directions and you’d never once tried to force yourself into his business just as he respected yours. The only thing you both ensured was contacting the other if something unexpected happened so neither of you worried. Had he just done that, you wouldn’t have come looking for him. You stared at Mihawk and saw he wasn’t going to give in or tell you the truth, whatever his reasons were it was clear he didn’t respect you enough to be honest then was there any point in saying anything more. 

Mihawk watched as something switched in your demeanour and the spark in your eyes seemed to snuff out. He didn’t move as you approached and reached out. When your fingers skimmed against his jaw he had to steel his nerve to not give into the temptation you always brought him. It only got worse when you leant in and pressed your lips against his. Mihawk felt his resolve begin to snap but the kiss was over just as fast as it began. You pulled back and stared at him, no longer with understanding but firm resolve and finality. “I’m glad you’re safe and I wish you the best of luck with Cross Guild.” 

With nothing left to say you left Mihawk, heading for the entrance to let the stubborn man you loved get back to his new focus only to stop abruptly when Crocodile stepped around the corridor and all but blocked your exit. You stopped and looked at the man you knew mostly from newspapers and reputation. You kept your expression even as Crocodile stared down at you, his keen observation taking you in before drifting up to Mihawk who glared warningly at his business partner. “Leaving so soon?” He asked simply, returning his attention back to you. “You just got here.”

“I was never planning on staying.” You answered dryly, stepping around the broader man only to sigh when he called after you.

“It’s too late for sailing though. There’s plenty of rooms for you to stay in if Mihawk’s room isn’t to your liking.”

“Not necessary.”

“Suit yourself, just know there’re undercover Marines camped out at the only inn on this island. I use the term ‘undercover’ lightly. Still better to know now just in case…” Crocodile’s voice floated towards you and you stopped walking. You turned to watch the man light a cigar, completely at ease. Briefly you flickered your gaze towards Mihawk and you bit your tongue. Looked like you were becoming the liability Mihawk had predicted you’d be. 

“Just show me to a room.” You muttered to a smug Crocodile. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

Mihawk couldn’t sleep. In the times he was apart from you he had adopted a talent for forcing his body to rest at least a little and grab naps here and there through necessity. However when you were both in the same vicinity as each other he could never sleep without your body beside his. Knowing you were just a few rooms away was like the cruellest form of torture. Now that he’d had the time to actually think about it all and his actions, he knew he was an idiot and had reacted and let his worries for you direct him when he should have just talked. Mihawk let out a low growl and rose from his bed. Crocodile was a smug, interfering bastard and had made sure to stop by and casually inform him which room you’d be staying in so he found you in no time. Knocking once he waited. 

Slowly you opened the door, your eyes stinging with tiredness. After all the tossing and turning you’d done your body was exhausted and so nearly ready to give in and let you sleep. Then Mihawk had to disturb that by knocking. His golden eyes scanned yours and he frowned to see the dark circles. Another thing for him to apologise for. “The last thing I want is for you to feel forced into stopping living your life how you want to. I was worried that with my Warlord status now being gone you’d be targeted to hurt me were people to find out we’re a couple. I know you can look after yourself but I’d hate to think you ever got hurt because of me. I acted poorly and pushed you away without thinking because had I really thought about it, not having you in my life was the worst thing I could think of.”

“You should have just told me sooner. You get so much more talkative when you’re sleepy, did you know that?” You asked with a small smile. “So I’m not a liability or unwelcome distraction?”

“Never a liability.” Mihawk swore, relieved that you’d stepped away from the door and allowed him to move closer to you. “A distraction most definitely but always a welcome one.”

“So I can stay?” You asked, leaning into his touch as his hand cupped your face and lowered his head so your foreheads touched, finally getting to enjoy the reunion at last. 

“For as long as you want.” 

SHANKS

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Shanks demanded angrily as he stared at you, his eyes zeroed in on the large and painful looking bruise against your cheek and your bandaged leg.  

“What do you mean ‘what the hell was I thinking’ Shanks?!” You snapped back viciously. Why the hell was he blaming you for something that was clearly an accident. “I was thinking about stopping one of the recruits from getting crushed, obviously.” 

“You weren’t even meant to be there in the first place.”

“It’s a good fucking job I was there.” You retorted, holding your ground fiercely and unwaveringly. “If it hadn’t been for me, they could have been severely injured or killed. Why are you berating me for doing the right thing?” Shanks rarely admonished you or anyone on the crew for that matter. Usually looking out for other members was something he praised. This was just so out of character for him. All you wanted was an explanation, to just understand what it was you’d done that was so bad to deserve all of the animosity. “Had Benn or Lucky been in my place would they be getting this tirade?” From outside the room you and Shanks were arguing in, Benn and Lucky shared a nervous look. Why did they have to be brought into this? Everyone on board bustled about, trying to see to their tasks without making too much noise from fear of drawing yours or Shanks’ ire.

“That’s not the point. This is about-”

“No, it very much is the fucking point.” You interrupted, your blood boiling and patience fraying. “Answer the question. Would you be speaking to them like this had they done the exact same as me?”

“They’re my right and left hands. You’re…” Shanks stopped clumsily and stared at you. This was the crux of the matter. You were different, he cared for everyone on his crew but to see you hurt had made him realise just how much he’d loved you and never faced that feeling before. He had been terrified that afternoon when he’d heard the yells, the heavy crashes of cargo falling after the ropes securing them had snapped from the strain and their age, and came across the seen of you lying on the ground. For a moment he’d feared the absolute worst and because of that, he’d reacted badly and still he was too scared to vocally tell you why. “You’re…”

“Right…” You sniffed slightly, nodding as the pieces seemed to fall into place for you. “I’m just the Captain’s current bedwarmer.”

“What? No!” Seeing the hurt in your eyes at your misinterpretation of the relationship you had, managed to jolt him out of his anger. He took a step toward you, reaching out and watched as you flinched and stepped back. “I didn’t-”

“Don’t bother.” You uttered, continuing to the door. “I’ve had enough of this.”

For the rest of the day you stayed as far away from Shanks as you could but no matter where you were you could feel his stare on you. It felt strange to not be so close, to let your presences mix together in a balanced sense of warmth and strength but at the moment you didn’t want to be near him. You didn’t want to listen to the sound of his voice that usually reassured you and made you smile. Exhausted by the events that led to the argument and the argument itself, you retired to bed early when you’d finished your dinner. Shanks said nothing but watched as you walked away, his frown deepening when he saw you walk in the opposite direction of his quarters that had also doubled as yours since you two got involved. With a long sigh Shanks rubbed his face, as much as he wanted to go after you he wanted to respect your wish for distance. 

Despite your desperate need for rest and sleep, it just wouldn’t come. You’d tossed and turned in what had been your old bed that now felt unfamiliar, simply unable to let your mind settle. With that being coupled with being unable to get comfortable in anyway you let out a long sigh and rolled over, staring at the ceiling in frustration. How did it come to the point that without Shanks your body was like a stubborn toddler, refusing the sleep it wanted and clearly needed? Absently your hand settled over your chest and you closed your eyes, trying to think about anything other than the man who you’d fallen for yet had been hurt by. Suddenly from outside your room you heard a muttered curse and dull thud. Dragging yourself out of bed you opened the door and looked down in bewilderment to see Shanks curled up in the corridor with a pillow and blanket. At the sound of the door opening he’d slowly rolled onto his back and looked up at you cautiously. “What are you doing?” You asked tiredly, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you…”

“You didn’t.” Your tone and expression was even but underneath it all you were unsure. “Answer the question, please. What are you doing down there? You could damage your back if you’re not careful.” 

“It’d be the least I deserve for speaking to you the way I did.” Shanks muttered, his shame evident. “I didn’t want to sleep in our bed, not without you. It didn’t feel right and I also wanted to give you space but…I still wanted to be near. This was the only thing I could think of.”

“Our bed?” You repeated with a tilt of your head. 

“Yes our bed, in our quarters.” Shanks insisted as he sat up but remained firmly on the floor. The fact that you were even willing to speak with him and that you hadn’t slammed the door in his face was enough to give him the courage to say what he should have that morning instead of running his mouth without thinking. “You’re more to me than some ‘bedwarmer,’ you always have been and I’d been too much of a coward to admit it. When I saw you hurt I feared the worst and just panicked. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way that I had and I certainly should have told you how much I love you before now. For all of that I’m so sorry and will do what I can to make it up to you, only if you’ll let me that is.”

“Okay, three conditions and I’ll forgive you.” You conceded after a few heavy seconds and you fought to hold back your smile at the sight of Shanks’ face lighting up immediately.

“Name them.” He swore with no hesitation, watching as you knelt down beside him.

“First, I get your favourite pillow for the next month.”

“You can have it forever.” Shanks grinned, his hand sliding over your waist as you inched closer. “Next?”

“You carry me back to our room so we can sleep.” Immediately Shanks had you scooped up and was off the floor in a fluid motion that pulled a surprised yelp from your lips. In no time at all you were both back in what you now knew to be your shared quarters and not just his. Shanks settled you on the mattress, making sure your head was cushioned by the pillow you’d only jokingly wanted before he crawled under the covers and held you close. In unison you both felt peace settle over you both, the sleep that your bodies had refused was now creeping through you now but Shanks refused to fall over just yet. “What’s the third condition?”

“Tell me you love me again.” You murmured, your eyes already closed and body pressed against his chest. Shanks sleepily chuckled and held you tighter, vowing to never risk letting you go again. you were his heart after all. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

BUGGY

Everyone knew Buggy had a short fuse. They knew that a good mood could turn sour without any warning, all it would take would be the wrong thing at the wrong time and he’d implode his fury on the closest thing possible and it wouldn’t matter if it was to blame or not. Today it seemed you were the focus for his anger. You’d walked into the big top merely to tell your lover that he was needed by both Mihawk and Crocodile. “Hey Bug-”

“No!” You stopped mid-step when the clown’s head detached from his body and whirled through the air and glared down at you. Stunned, you could only stare into his angry eyes and listen to his vicious rant. “I have had it with the sheer incompetence of everyone! How hard is it to listen to simple instructions?” You were sure that Buggy didn’t have any idea that it was you that he was shouting at. When he got like this all he really saw was the person’s outline and no discernible features. Still though, you opened your mouth to try and calm him before his face got as red as his nose but he just got lost in his anger that had reached boiling point. “What did I just say?! Get the hell out of my sight before I use you for target practice!”

The idea of Buggy hurting you caused the amused smile and light laughter to appear out of the sheer absurdity of it all. You were the one Buggy loved, he’d never bring you harm. But all Buggy saw and heard was insubordination, mocking his authority and his status. Now that Mihawk and Crocodile were around the big top was the only place he still had any power. For someone to laugh at him here was only adding fuel to the fire. 

His hands detached and grabbed your upper arm, hauling you off your feet so you were now eye level with him. Only now did he blink through his fury and realise who it was he was about to physically punish. But still he was angry and his lack of authority had made him shaken. If he immediately apologised now, he’d seem weak. He needed those who followed him to see he was in charge. You saw the recognition in Buggy’s eyes and thought he'd lessen his hold and set you back on your feet but instead he kept you in the air. “Why do I tolerate you and your lack of respect? Just be grateful for my mercy. Keep out of my way and out of my spotlight! Is that clear?” 

 Ever since the founding of Cross Guild you'd done your best to reassure Buggy that he was still important and still powerful. You’d navigated his low self-esteem and tantrums for years, knowing him longer and better than anyone. You loved him and you knew he loved you but this made your own anger begin to light. His behaviour like this towards you would not be something you'd let him get away with but you also didn’t want him to lose face in front of the crew who were watching with held breaths. “Crystal clear, Captain Buggy.” You responded in an empty monotone. “Thank you for your mercy. The spotlight is yours and yours alone. If you can let me go I’ll keep out of your way, it won’t happen again.”

“G-good.” Buggy quickly uttered and set you on your feet before releasing your arms. His mind was slowly clearing as he watched with uncertainty as you fixed your clothes and headed for the door. Absently he wondered why you’d been in here in the first place. Dread filled his stomach now, had you come in just to visit him and unintentionally been brought into the firing line? You opened the door and refused to look his way. 

“I’ll let Mihawk and Crocodile know you’re busy, Captain.” Your remark made his eyes bug out and he was frozen in place. What did those two want with him now?! Panic filled him as he abruptly dismissed the crew and he hurried for the door you’d left through. When he was in the hallway he saw you were heading for one of the lounge rooms and not Cross Guild’s meeting room, Buggy sighed in relief. He made a mental note to talk to you after and hurried for the meeting. 

As the day wore on, Buggy’s mood lifted significantly and the morning’s incident with you was unfortunately pushed further and further to the back of his mind. It wasn't until the evening time that he realised he hadn’t seen much of you. When he passed Alvida he asked if she’d seen where you’d gone. Alvida regarded him silently, confusion pulling at her features. “On your way to apologise?”

“What does my flashy self have to apologise for?” Buggy asked with a confident grin. 

“Well this morning, remember?” Alvida asked with a smirk as realisation flickered in Buggy’s eyes. “Yelling at nothing subordinates is one thing, but your lover? You need to talk to them. Sadly I haven’t seen them since you told them to keep out of your way. Hope you find them.” Buggy watched hopelessly as the woman continued on her way, not even bothering to assist him in finding you. Grinding his teeth anxiously, Buggy continued his search. He finally found you in your shared room and with a sigh of relief, believing he didn’t need to apologise after all he flopped himself down onto the bed. 

“Been looking everywhere for you. Hey, where’re you going?” He immediately sat up when you moved for the door, watching you turn to look at him with a frown. 

“Keeping out of your way Captain Buggy.” You explained. “As per your orders.”

With a sigh Buggy prepared himself to finally apologise. “You know I didn’t mean it. Not with you.”

“But you don’t make mistakes, Captain.” You shook your head, not allowing him to talk him way out of his actions so soon. “Don’t worry I’ll keep out of your spotlight.”

“There’s no spotlight here-”

“Where you are, the spotlight follows that includes here.” Your eyes moved to the bed he was lying on. The last time you and Buggy had slept separately was when he was in Impel Down and it had been the worst time of your lives but you had to do something. Buggy knew that you’d have to be severely hurt by him to even consider putting yourself through that and he knew he was to blame for it. So he could only numbly let you leave to have some space from him. “Sleep well, Captain.”

For hours Buggy tried to sleep but it just refused to come. Even though he knew your body wasn’t beside him, his hands still searched across the cold mattress in the hopes of finding you and his head always turned towards your pillow, eyes desperate to find your face in the dark. With a sigh, Buggy rose, his lesson well and truly learned. Trudging down the silent hallways he moved to the lounge he’d seen you head towards after he’d yelled at you that morning. Stopping in the doorway he saw you lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling with heavy eyes that stubbornly wouldn’t close. “Can I come in?”

“It’s your circus, Captain.” You mumbled, still looking at the ceiling and too tired to move. “You don’t need to ask me for permission for anything.”

“Yes I do.” Buggy insisted, slowly walking into the room and stopped at the foot of the sofa. “You’re not some subordinate and the second I realised it was you I was shouting at I should have stopped. I should have apologised. Any orders I have are for those morons, never you. I’m sorry you had to do this to make me see that.”

Finally you dropped your eyes from the ceiling to observe Buggy, seeing he was free from his makeup and flashy outfit. Not Captain or figurehead, just your Buggy. Slowly you moved your blanket aside to wordlessly invite Buggy to join you. Tiredly you smiled when he wasted no time in moving down to lie with you, his arms circling you and his lips pressing lovingly against your cheek. Buggy relished the way you relaxed against him but knew he still had a hell of a lot of making up to do and come the morning he’d do jus that until you were sick of his flashy apology and spoiling you.

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[gluion]

02:48 ➵ park gunwook

park gunwook x reader

you’re set on playing some more games of valorant, and gunwook is trying to change your mind.

general genre/warnings ➵ established relationship, fluff, suggestive, lots of kissing, hickey moment…, valorant mention

word count ➵ 800 words

a/n ➵ happy birthday @shegotthewoobies <3 ily and i hope you like this drabble :DD if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

gunwook wishes he isn’t the needy type. the one who can handle the distance. the one who can keep his hands to himself. the one who can fall asleep without you by his side. he hopes he can be the one to fulfill your every request, regardless of the hours or miles it may take.

he likes to think he’s made for you, but the reality is that he needs you.

before gunwook left for work, he promised you a few matches of valorant. his busy schedule didn’t give you two enough time in the day to spend with each other. all you had were hours made for sleep. although you understood gunwook’s schedule, only wanting him to rest before another day filled with work, he couldn’t share the same sentiments as you. all he wants is to be around you; intertwine fingers, and graze his lips over the expanse of your skin. despite your protests, it all falls on deaf ears as he cuts you off with a single kiss before taking his leave.

yet, work is spontaneous. he’ll never know if it’ll be a day where he waits for hours to pass by or to chase them.

gunwook tried to conceal his fatigue, peppering your face with kisses before telling you he’ll shower before he hops on the game. despite your worried eyes, he leads you to your chair before making his way to the washroom.

although he was tired from today’s work, he enjoyed the few matches he got to play. regardless of taerae’s trashtalk, matthew’s missed shots, and taerae’s partner’s whines, his stress levels subsided—all thanks to you. still, he couldn’t fight off the exhaustion.

“hey, i think i’m done for today,” gunwook says, earning a series of groans.

“no! we can’t end here. i mean, we can’t end on a loss!” regardless of taerae’s attempt to make him stay, he already closed the game. 

“bye guys.” he doesn’t wait for another word to leave his friends before he drops the discord call. as he looks over to his right, he sees your screen is on the lobby. he stands up from his seat, expecting you to take your leave until you pull out your phone. 

“hey, let him go to sleep. i’m down to play some unrated. but if you guys find someone else to fill, i’m also up for more ranked matches.”

gunwook can’t help but pout. he should’ve known that you would play a few more games. after all, you’d always try to find time in the day to play. yet, he wishes you could read the words in between his farewell—hey, let’s go to sleep.

a hum leaves you. “okay, let me try to ask my friend if they want to play.”

for a moment, gunwook considers going to bed, leaving you one kiss before you can continue playing. this is your time to destress. but his feet take him to where you are and his hand quickly reaches for your mouse so that he can mute your microphone.

you move your headphones to the side. “hey, what are you—”

his arms find their spot around your waist. “baby,” his whine has you holding your breath, “can’t you play some more games tomorrow? i missed you.”

“gunwook,” a shy giggle leaves your lips, “i’ll just play one or two more games. i’m pretty sure matthew and taerae are trying to find someone to fill.”

then, he nestles his face into your neck. while his nose grazes your skin, you let out a quiet exhale. but the moment you feel his lips, your eyes shut close. out of instinct. out of comfort. out of desire.

“c’mon, i’m sure they’ll understand.” his lips continue to cover every inch of your neck as his hands sneak under your shirt, fingers drawing shapes on your hips. gunwook’s persuasion is hard to ignore.

feigning ignorance, you say, “but i won’t get to play tomorrow. just one game.”

he musters a sigh and you think you won the battle, until his lips latch onto your neck. blunt teeth scratch against your skin as his tongue darts out, sucking in the spot. a soft moan leaves you as you throw your head back.

taerae’s shouts leak out of your headphones but you have no interest in hearing what he has to say.

gunwook’s lips leave you and you try to steady your breathing. you hate his effect on you. “c’mon, let’s go to bed.”

you need a few seconds before you swallow your shame. “to sleep?”

he giggles before he pulls back, allowing you to meet his gaze. “depends if you’ll quit valorant now or later.” and when you spot the smirk that rests on his lips, you don’t think twice about disconnecting from the call without saying goodbye.

taglist: @kflixnet @blankjournal

[entitled-fangirl]

Help I love how in as long as she’s comfortable he helps her sit up by scooping an arm around her back cause why is that little thing such a Cregan thing like he would defo move you about and move you into positions not just in the bedroom but just in everyday life yk? And I see how you have included that in other fics like how he will move her hips and such. This just shows how you have so cleverly created this persona for him. Honestly love it

He has to be such a dominating man outside of the Winterfell walls that I feel like he is just naturally a leading man. He doesn’t mind giving the reigns to her, but he naturally takes them because he is always expected to in general.

So I feel like he moved her around a lot. It’s always gentle, and most of the time it’s just instinct for him.

That, and he likes having her in his arms

………………………….

Arms encircled her waist as a husky voice whispered in her ear, “Where do you believe you’re off to, my girl?”

The hands on her hips spin her around to face him and a smile is broadcasted across his cheeks.

She giggles lightly as she leans against his chest, “I suppose nowhere now.”

He mocks offense at her teasing. “You speak as if I’m keeping you hostage.”

Her hands move to the top of his that still sat at her waist. “Your grip is like iron, Cregan.”

He tilts his head and his smile falls, “‘m sorry, my love. Am I hurting you?” His hands disappear from her sides.

She takes steps back as a teasing smirk came to her face, “Twas only a jest.”

The grin comes back to his face, “You’re a minx, you know that?”

She continues to make distance between them. “Am I?”

A playful fire came to his eyes and his hand moved out as his pointer finger make a ‘come here’ motion.

She took another step back, “Make me then.”

The fire behind his eyes sparked to life and he moved a quick pace.

She was throw off by his sudden motion and was almost caught from the start, but her feet moved quickly down the corridor.

She was no match for the Warden of the North. She knew that.

But she wasn’t truly running from him.

In fact, she wanted to feel his hands on her again.

………………………..

[shizuturnspages]

HII I'm the anon who sent the darling who isn't from teyvat request!! I hope u don't mind me request because ur writings are just chef kiss! :3 i don't have a specific request but can i have a darling who's generally clingy or dependant on them emotionally with Ororon, kinich, and xiao? feel free if u still wanna do the outsider darling!! no need to rush :3

Of course! I'm not doing the outsider darling specifically, but rather as a clingy darling in general

Ororon

Ororon thrives on being needed, and having a darling who’s emotionally dependent on him makes him absolutely euphoric. He’s always had this primal urge to protect, and your reliance on him feeds directly into his instincts.

❥ Overwhelming Presence: Ororon never leaves your side. He’s always there—whether you want him to be or not. If you even hint at feeling upset or unsure, he’ll be there in an instant, wrapping you in his arms and growling at anything or anyone that dares to make you feel uneasy. “I’ll handle it. You don’t need to worry about anything, ever.”

❥ Possessive Tendencies: Your emotional dependency makes him feel indispensable, but it also makes him paranoid. If anyone else tries to comfort you or be there for you, Ororon sees it as a direct threat. He doesn’t say anything to you about it, but the person in question might mysteriously disappear or suffer an “accident.”

❥ Reassuring Manipulation: Ororon uses your emotional neediness to keep you close. He’s constantly telling you that no one else understands you the way he does. “You don’t need anyone else, darling. Just stay with me, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“I like that you need me. It makes it easier to keep you safe. Don’t ever change.”

Kinich

Kinich sees your emotional dependency as a perfect way to bind you to him permanently. He’s already a schemer by nature, so your need for comfort and reassurance gives him endless opportunities to solidify his place in your life.

❥ Emotional Anchor: Kinich is always there to lend a listening ear or a comforting hand, but it’s never entirely selfless. He subtly reinforces the idea that he’s the only one who truly understands you. “No one else could possibly know you the way I do. Trust me; I’ll never let you down.”

❥ Subtle Isolation: Kinich makes it so that you don’t feel like you can depend on anyone else. He’ll plant little seeds of doubt about others in your life, all while positioning himself as the only constant you can rely on. “They don’t seem to care about you as much as I do. Have you noticed that?”

❥ Protective Scheming: If you ever express discomfort or sadness, Kinich is quick to fix the problem—his way. Whether it’s orchestrating a confrontation or quietly sabotaging someone who’s hurt you, he handles it all behind the scenes. You’ll never even realize the lengths he’s gone to just to see you smile.

“You’re so dependent on me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You belong right here, with me.”

Xiao

Xiao isn’t great at handling emotions, so when you become emotionally dependent on him, he’s a mix of overwhelmed and secretly touched. He’s spent so long keeping his distance from mortals, and now here you are, completely reliant on him—it’s a combination of terrifying and intoxicating.

❥ Protective to the Extreme: Xiao takes your emotional dependency very seriously. He sees it as his duty to protect you from everything, including your own feelings of sadness or fear. If he could, he’d take on all your pain himself. “You don’t need to feel this way. I’ll make it better. Just… don’t leave.”

❥ Awkward Comfort: Xiao struggles with words, but he tries his best to comfort you in his own way. He’ll stay close, offer quiet reassurances, and eliminate any external threats that might be causing you distress. “I may not know how to help, but I won’t let anything hurt you.”

❥ Devotion Turned Obsession: Your dependence on him becomes his everything. Xiao starts to see himself as your sole protector, the one thing keeping you grounded in this world. His protective instincts quickly spiral into possessiveness, and he’ll grow angry if anyone else tries to take on his role.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay. As long as you need me, I’ll stay. Even if you don't, I'll still be here.”

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Command Me

Feyd Rautha X Plus Size! Y/N - drabble/series - 1.7K WC

Part 1 (you are here!)

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: the Voice, mention of nudity, female reader, horny behaviors but no sex, voyerism, violence (nothing graphic), bad ass reader, enemies to lovers

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“Stay in there and keep quiet.” the guard said as he tossed you to the floor after locking a device around your head.

You instinctively tried to pry it away but it stayed put, you were unable to speak let alone scream to be let out. You looked around the room; it looked like everything else on Giedi Prime - dark and lonely. Not even the blinding light from their black sun could penetrate the room. You had been sent to Giedi Prime as an offering. A wife for the Na-Baron now that you had both reached maturity. You knew you were fated to him, you had known your whole life. Plans within plans. The Bene Gesserit had made you just as much as they made Paul Atreides. You were from Tleilaxu. Both the Bene Gesserit and the Bene Tleilax had engineered your creation over generations, you would be the one to bring about a challenger to Paul Atredies’ heirs. And as fate would have it, a Harkonnen was the strongest match you could have. A vile race that nobody in the universe had anything good to say about. You had always known your purpose but now that you were starting to live it, you wanted nothing more than to run away or disappear all together. You had met Feyd Rautha once when you were both 15. He was a strange boy who took pleasure in others' pain. He had shown you a beating heart from a maid he had killed before you ran back to your mother screaming. After that you hadn’t seen him or had any contact. 

Until today.

The door to the room opened, you lifted your head from your hands and quickly scooted away from the intruder until your back was against the wall. The door shut and the room was once again encased in darkness but you could see the man's striking white skin. His eyes were dark and you could feel them on you. He knelt in front of you, you raised your hand to strike him but he caught your wrist. All you could hear was your heavy breathing and your heartbeat in your ears. 

“You are just as simple as I remember, Tleilaxan.” he said, grabbing your chin and looking you over. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was one to talk. Tleilaxan were pale just like Harkonnen. Black eyes just like Harkonnen. The only physical difference between you two was that you had hair and your teeth weren’t black, they were slightly pointed. You grunted, trying to combat his insult but the gagging device on your head stopped you. He let go of your chin harshly, tossing your head to one side. 

“I remember you, ya know. How frightened of me you were when we were teenagers. Running away to your mother like a child. How pathetic.” he said as he stood up. 

The lights in the room finally illuminated. You blinked a few times adjusting to your surroundings, it was a bedroom chamber. It looked lived in but neat; you stood but kept a distance between you and the man who you could now fully see - Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. He was different from the last time you saw him. Not as scrawny. Still lean but he filled out his armor with plenty of muscle. His face was much sharper. His eyes were sullen and distant. He looked cold, dangerous. You pulled at your gag again, trying your hardest to get it off. You could feel some sort of mechanism in the back, you could tell it required a key. 

“This is our quarters. We will share it but I expect you to make yourself scarce.” Feyd said, walking towards you. “You will stay here until the wedding in a few days.” his eyes searched your face but you weren’t sure what he was looking for.

You kept your gaze stern. You weren't afraid of him; you weren't a scared child running back to your mother. You were Tleiaxu, a Face Dancer. If anyone should be afraid, it’s him. You shapeshifted into an exact copy of Feyd. His eyes widened, stepping back slightly. You walked closer to him, your gaze never leaving him. The Bene Gesserit had made you more than a capable fighter. To be the wife of Feyd Rautha they had not only trained you in their ways of battle and the voice but had you train with the especially brutal Sardaukar. You kicked at Feyds knee when you were close enough. He countered your strike, holding your ankle and twisting it. You dropped to the floor, using your other foot to kick Feyd over your head. He released your ankle due to the sheer force with which you kicked him. You rolled backwards, straddling Feyds chest where you locked his arms between your legs. He kicked and thrusted trying to move you but you remained solid. You glared down at him, pointing at your gag. He chuckled, moving his hand slightly towards his pocket. You clenched your thighs tighter, stopping him from moving completely. You reached inside his pocket, finding something akin to a key. Quickly you unlocked your gag, tossing it across the room. You rubbed your jaw finally letting the muscles loosen. In your distracted state Feyd thrusted his legs up, catching your shoulders so your roles were reversed. He straddled you with a smile taking a small knife out from his back blade holster. The shock rocked you back into your natural state, the shapeshift of him disappearing. He leaned forward bringing the knife to your neck.

“STOP” you said, using the Voice. 

He halted his motions and you could see the anger on his face, you could tell he felt like you were cheating.

“GET OFF ME, STAND STILL” you said, standing as soon as he was off you. “GIVE ME THE KNIFE” he did just as he was instructed. You could see him trying to fight your orders but he simply couldn’t. Very few had developed the skill to disobey the power of the Voice. You pointed the knife at his throat, the very tip of it pushing against him almost drawing blood. “You breathe because I allow it. Do not make an enemy of me, Feyd Rautha.” your tone was threatening and full of venom. “GET OUT” you said finally, keeping his blade. You watched him leave. You knew he would be back later, most likely set on revenge. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

You sighed as you explored your new home chambers. It was expansive, every room seemed to lead to another. A bedroom. A living room. A bathroom. A library. A viewing room overlooking all of Giedi Prime. A massive stairway that led to an upper floor which led out to the main halls of the palace. You weren’t used to the time difference yet, having only arrived a few hours ago but you could tell from the eerily empty, dark halls it was night time. You went back to your quarters, snooping through the closets and drawers. You found everything you could ever need; towels, blankets, bathroom supplies, dresses, armor, underwear, weapons, etc. The dresses were different from that on Tleilaxu. All black, all slightly resembling armor, yet soft and breathable. You shed your clothing, taking one of what you assumed was Feyd’s larger shirts and underwear to the bathroom. You filled the bathtub. You expected water but instead got some sort of strange, oily black substance. You dipped your hand in cautiously, rubbing it between your fingers. It had the feel of water. You shrugged, not really having a choice before you sank down into it. It felt strange, slightly thicker than water but it was making you feel clean. Just another adjustment you’ll have to make. 

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Feyd watched you from behind the two way mirror. He had grown up in this palace and knew it as well as his own body. He knew every secret it held. He watched you with confusion on his face. He felt embarrassed you bested him. You cheated, you used the Voice which he could not combat against. Yet he felt a strange sense of admiration. You exploited your opponents weakness. Clever. He could tell just from the reflexes you had during the fight that you were Sardaukar. What really amazed him was the shapeshifting. He had never seen a Face Dancer in person, only read of their histories. It was the greatest skill developed, rivaling the Voice of the Bene Gesserit. The fact that you had shapeshifting, the Voice, and advanced training - they may have picked him the perfect wife after all. You were far from the scared teenager he had met. When you rejected his demonstration of love, giving you a beating heart, a bitter seed towards you was planted. Yet your actions today made his insides stir with a wave of emotions he couldn’t quite place a description to. Admiration? That was the closest he could get. 

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state he was tempted to barge in and continue your fight, using the element of surprise against you. He almost made the move to, until he saw you start to wash over your curves. Sitting up on your knees in the bath to scrub over your body, he was hypnotized as the black water slipped down you. His throat tightened. You were a woman now, shapely and perfect compared to the twiggy women of Giedi Prime. His mind ran away with images of his hands gliding over you, everywhere. Your plush thighs, and soft tummy called out to him. He got closer to the mirror, you looked up for a moment meeting his gaze through the mirror, his breath hitched. You stood up, scrubbing the lower half of your body. His jaw dropped, you were the most beautiful creature he ever beheld. He begged for you to hold that knife to his neck again, just to have you close to him. He could feel the strain his cock made against his armor but tried his best to ignore it. As you rinsed the rest of the black from your skin he kept his eyes on your wandering hands, silently praying they would make their way between your legs. You stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel around yourself before drying your hair with another. When he saw you slide one of his undershirts on he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning; his hips bucking forwards slightly out of pure want. 

He had to have you, he would do everything in his power to make you want him too.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Haven't written for our favorite evil bald boy in a hot minute so I thought I'd deliver. I think I'm going to make this a mini series? I gotta come up with more of a plot because this was all just word vomit, gotta find a direction for it. I'm probably going to be writing more as the job search continues. I broke up with my boyfriend today so I will be distracting myself with the love of fictional men. I hope you are all doing well and thriving. Talk soon XOXOXOXOX!!!!!!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: The Hunt 🔞

Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

Main Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, Dragon!Reader, it's finally here, Primal Play who would've thought, intense making out, sexual tension, smut, rough but sensual, protected sex you know me by now I always manage to sneak protection into these situations and so should you, biting, strength kink oops, knotting oops², Jungkook steals her underwear wait what-, outdoor sex, FLUFF

Length: 3.2k words

There is no taglist for this fic

Masterlist

A/N: Hi hello please eat well thank you

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🐉── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

The hunt is something you never thought you'd experience for yourself.

You're not really a fan of men constantly barking about how capable and masculine they are- when down the line all it's built on is insecurity and mommy-issues. Dragonkin of your age tend to be like that however. And so for the longest time, you had simply told yourself to leave the community entirely, and just live a normal human life away from your roots, like most female dragonkin do.

And then- well, then came Jungkook.

While at first, you didn't really trust him, you now know that it was mostly because he just felt.. too good to be true. There just had to be something off about him, something bad that he's hiding- and maybe there is, and he's just an extraordinarily skilled manipulator. But even if he is, you don't mind any longer. He can have you.

But not without any fight from your end.

The festival is in full force now, and as you step outside, you're immediately greeted by the sounds of music, people laughing and dancing, and food being cooked and eaten. You keep your eyes open for any sign of Jungkook being present-

after all, the moon is high up, meaning that the hunt, even now as you just finished your own part of the tradition inside the house, is on.

Any second now he could grab you, and you'd be officially his.

You've cleaned your body and made sure to use a scented body oil right after- lavender, to confuse his senses. You're not going to make it easy, not now, and not ever. If he wants to be with you, and more so stay with you, he's going to have to put in work as well- and you want him to know that right from the start. You're a dragonkin, just like him after all. You're not going to stay with someone who thinks he's a treasure, but in reality is just cheap metals acting like it.

But for now, you'll keep an eye out for him as you stand by a grill, getting some food for yourself while he's probably already hunting you in silence, waiting for his chance to strike.

And true to that, unbeknownst to you, he is already stalking his treasure, waiting for the perfect moment.

He's picked up your scent already, heavily masked by the floral body oil and the shampoo you've used for your hair today. The night of the Hunt is always special- both him and you wash off anything of the past still clinging to your bodies, before you dive in and give into your instincts, to lead you where you want to be in the future.

Either together, or apart. If you want the latter, you'll need to escape him until the sun starts to rise. But he feels like that won't happen- because just a moment later, as he walks around a corner, there in the distance, he can see you.

As soon as he spots you, it’s like his instincts take ahold of him. There’s no denial of the power you already hold over him, one glance enough to trap him into abandoning anything he was going to do- instead, his legs already moving, feet on their way to follow where you’re leading him. Through the crowds and past dancing people, the lights and lanterns glow as if to help him in keeping up with you.

The jump in your step makes it the more clear to him that you’re clearly enjoying this, teasing him almost; the bell on your anklet a siren song putting him into a trance, helplessly cursed to follow wherever you go.

And then you turn around, impish smile on your lips as you catch his hand, pulling him closer to you as you jump and dance to the music being played, but only for a moment, before your hands push against his chest, the chase finally starting as you give him the final sign to catch you now.

You’re offering him a chance- and he’d be stupid not to take it.

Your laughter makes it horribly easy to follow you through the woods, stray lanterns here and there helping his human sight to stand a chance during this night. The music has grown faint, drums still heavy and noticeable, just like the other instruments and laughing people back at the main grounds. He can hear your breathing by now, and it fuels his own desire because it’s a sign that he’s almost made it.

He can’t let you get away now.

You can hear him close behind, boots heavy on the forest floor as he never seems to lose sight of you- and you wouldn’t want him to, either. He’s already proven himself as a more than suitable mate, as more than a potential friend or lover. But he’s a bit cocky, a little bit too proud and up in the clouds- a lesson is due it seems for the tall dragon chasing you as if he’s the apex predator.

Sure, the anklet he gave you might be a little bit of a hassle- but nothing you can’t handle. He thinks he’s already got you pinned. He thinks you’ll just make it easy.

It’s time to prove him wrong.

Swiftly you grab the hem of your dress to hold it up, before you change your direction, ducking under heavy trunks of fallen trees before you jump over others too close to the ground, your goal in sight as you can head him almost growl under his breath as he encounters the many hurdles you’ve already gotten over.

With enough time to spare now, you start to climb the tree in front of you-

Only for his wrist to catch your ankle, delicate golden bell almost mocking you as it jingles, both of you panting as he grins up from his spot on the ground. His black hair is wild and curled at the ends, his eyes piercing with excitement as he slowly catches his breath. You still at least move to sit on one of the thick branches able to easily support your weight, his hold on your leg still present, though it relaxes as you look at him. “Caught you.” He says happily, as if he’s just made his greatest achievement to this date and you smile.

He can’t quite grasp that he’s really got you now.

“You did.” You answer back, wind rustling the crowns full of leaves of the trees all around you both, music faint in the background. “What’re you gonna do now?” You ask him, and he chuckles, lip running over his bottom lip before he answers, stepping closer, making you shiver in anticipation.

“First, I’ll get my treasure down from that tree..” he starts, easily pulling you down just like he said- catching you, thankfully, as he holds you by your waist, eyes running over your body, finally able to have you up close like this. “…then, I’ll admire it..” he continues lowly, no need to put much volume into his voice as he does just what he says, one of his hands moving to run through your hair, exposing the side of your neck to him, a place still bare but soon to wear his mark of love.

“ ..and then?” You ask quietly, making his smile grow as he leans down close, breath hot against your skin.

“..and then I’ll claim it.” He says, lips faintly brushing against your ear.

And you smile, grin spreading, before you tilt your head.

"Good luck with that." You hum against his lips which are just a breath away- and his gaze widens just for a split second before you sneakily dash away from him and out of his grasp, running faster than before deeper into the surrounding woods. You're really not making it easy for him at all.

And he loves it, muscles aching to get a final grasp on you now.

You're going to be his.

He can see you in the distance getting closer, no match for his stamina at the end of the day as he slowly catches up with you. He's got to give you that- you're not stupid at all, instincts clearly sharp and working well. Instead of trying to outrun him, you constantly twist and turn, trying to confuse him instead. But it doesn't work this easily on him.

Especially because he knows that you're having just as much.. fun as he does.

He can smell you.

He's already won. You just want to see if he truly wants to earn his spot at your side it seems like. And he does- he wants to prove his worth in more ways than just this. What you don't know, is that he's not just running after you- he's not hunting you anymore, but more so herding you into the direction he so wants you to run towards.

And just like sheep, you run right where he wants you to.

It's a split second where he can see you trip, almost falling, if not for his hand reaching out to grab the back of your white dress to yank you backwards into his chest where he holds you. You're both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling at a rapid pace, before he finally gets out a question.

"You okay?" He asks, and you nod, reassuring him quietly. "Looks like I caught you again." He chuckles, and you laugh too, still out of breath.

"Pure luck." You hum out, before you lean into him-

giving up.

giving yourself to him.

"I can give you a third chance." He offers teasingly almost, though he does mean it. You shake your head however, denying it. You don't actually want to run from him anymore.

You're fine with staying at his side.

"No." You hum, leaning your head back into his body. "You caught me." You admit, breathing finally evening out, and he smiles down at you, before he turns you around, and holds your face in his hands to finally kiss you- hungry and eager, after the chance had been taken away moments prior by you.

He's no longer wasting time.

You're not sure where he's walking you towards, his lips chasing away any coherent thought it feels like, but even if you could form a functioning thought right now, you wouldn't actually fight him at all.

"Jungk-" You gasp when his knee pushes between your legs, your back against a tree behind you while his hands waste no time to touch you. Currently occupied with feeling your chest through your dress, he's almost growling into your mouth as he grabs at your flesh, all while he steals your breath, lips working tirelessly against your own.

There's nothing that's holding him back any longer. He doesn't need to restrain himself.

"I told you how it's gonna go, didn't I?" He says, finally giving you some chance to breath, while he lifts his leg a little, pushing further into you. "I caught you.." He hums against your lips, slipping out of his jacket to move a bit more freely, hands gripping the hem of your dress to push it up so his palms can explore what skin you're hiding beneath. "Now I'm gonna make you mine." He grins down at you.

"Right here?" You ask, but he knows from the sight of your eager hips alone that you're not against the idea at all.

"Right here.." he agrees therefore, leaning down to kiss you feverishly, hands unable to keep still as they explore your body, anklet around your foot jingling every now and then with every movement you make. You could've taken it off at any point-

But you didn't. You accept him. You want him. And it only fuels his need for you.

"Jungkook please-" you beg, raising your hips to try and reach him. He knows what you want, what you crave.

"Hm?" He asks, biting at your neck before he kisses the marks soothingly. "You sound so sweet." He comments with amusement, while you grip his wrists, needing to hold onto something. He's not marked you up yet- and you wonder why not. He's got the chance now. You want him too. You want him to claim you, just like he said.

His hand between your legs is feeling you up, exploring, trying to prepare you for what's possibly to come. Maybe even just checking if you're getting ready yourself.

And what he finds gives him his definite answer.

"You were made for me, weren't you?" He coos at you, a smile on his lips as he watches you squirm, before he moves his hands, gripping the sides of your underwear, the sound of fabric ripping cutting through the silent woods around you. It happens twice- and then the fabric is gone, a cool gust of wind leaving you shivering for a second, wet skin exposed to the elements while he sneaks your ripped underwear into the pocket of his pants. It's an action you don't notice-

and it doesn't matter anyways, as his fingers enter you, exploring what makes you squirm and what makes your breath hitch.

You're clinging onto him, and he loves the feeling of your fingers on his skin, desperation making you uncaring of how you might come off as towards him. He wants you just like this- raw, unfiltered, wild. After all, there's dragonblood running in both of your veins. Flames burn under your skin, never to be tamed, only ever bowing to the one you'll call your mate.

And he knows he'll bow to you if you just say so, no shame in the thought at all.

He's yours.

He honestly had given up on the thought of ever really getting together with another dragonkin, considering his lack of interest, and the small amount of female dragons still participating in festivities like these. He knows that it's a complicated issue where no one's really truly entirely at fault- but having you in his hands like this makes him hopeful that maybe not all is lost yet. There's still chances for dragons to find and love each other-

You're both a prime example.

You're awfully fidgety now, clearly trying to get him to get you off- but he just chuckles. "No." He suddenly says, and you look at him, confused before you can hear his belt buckle, jeans falling down to his knees, his length already way beyond ready. He's impressive, just like any dragonkin- the distinctive shape of his cock reminding you of what will happen if he goes in raw like this.

And apparently, that's exactly what he wants to do, as he adjusts your hands on his shoulders, eyes sharp and filled to the brim with nothing but lust.

"Hold onto me, my love." He growls out to you, before he holds underneath your thighs, resting your back against the bark of the tree behind you, needing some sort of help to guide the tip of his leaking length towards your equally sodden entrance, before he lets your body lean down onto it, filling you up.

You're instantly clenching around him, feeling like you've finally been made whole.

You're clinging onto him, arms around his neck, before he adjusts the placement of his hands, now on your ass as he helps you move, skin slapping against skin while you whimper into his neck, your kisses on the skin shaky, as you try and keep yourself from biting him. Your head is dizzy, barely able to think much more than about him, his scent, his hands on you, his body so close, his mouth even closer as he breathes down your neck, his cock balls deep inside you.

You're sure you've by now stained even his skin in your arousal. You must be- because the smell of sex is all around you both.

He slows down for a moment, before he takes a few steps, leaning down on his knees before your back is placed on something..

soft?

You're a little curious where you are, but he gives you no chance to really take a look around, when he pushes himself back into you, hands pushing your dress out of the way, before he grips at the neckline of it, fabric loudly protesting against the way he pulls on it to expose your naked chest to him. He's ruining your clothes-

and you couldn't care less, as you feel him thrust inside you again, his pace now much more controlled, much more calculated. The grip he has on your wrists will surely leave them red for a while, and you want all of his marks he's willing to give you.

"Jungkook-" you whine, breathing heavily, back arching and hips squirming as you reach your peak. "-please-" You beg, and he knows exactly what you want.

"You want my mark?" He asks, and you nod, wrists wiggling around to instead move, holding his hands, interlocking your fingers. "You want to be mine?" He asks, and you yet again agree, feeling him stutter in his pace as well.

And then he leans down, hands on your back picking you up, position changing yet again as he pulls you close by your ass, helping you in your hips moving, obscene sounds coming from the both of you while he pushes your hair out of the way, kissing up the path to your neck where he decides for the best spot to place his bond.

And as he bites down, he feels something he didn't quite expect-

You doing just the same to him.

It catches him off guard so much, that he instantly reaches his own orgasm, length swelling inside you to keep him locked in place as his cock spurts into you, coating your insides in his clear cum. He doesn't have to worry about accidentally knocking you up- after all, that's another part of his dragonblood, something to differentiate him from regular humans. The first time with his mate, he's only claiming you- mixing up your scents, creating an entirely new one, bonding himself to you for the rest of your lifes.

And he knew you willingly gave yourself to him at the end of this hunt- but to have you claim him too, definitely gives him a boost of confidence in your now shared future together.

You're both breathing heavily, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm that's still drumming through you, as you hold onto him for dear life. Only now do you finally have time to look around a little, noticing the numerous blankets you're both sitting on, and only now do you realize just how much more thought he'd put into all of this than you originally thought he would.

He really isn't at all what you thought he'd be, as a dragonkin.

And it's the last thing, the last proof you need to finally let yourself be held by him, his hands running over your exposed skin as if to make sure you stay warm as the wind rushes softly through the crowns of the trees around you, while he nuzzles the spot of your mark on your neck, occasional kisses placed as if they could help it heal faster. He's probably all foggy inside his head, and you don't mind letting yourself feel the emotions as well-

shutting your brain off, as you lean into his chest, arms around him holding him tightly, while his chest rumbles with the purrs of pleasure and happiness.

You're finally his.

And he'll always be yours.

[tinyluvs]

❥ stay, baby ˚ rafe cameron

❥ summary: rafe turns up at your house in the middle of the night, insisting he stays because he needs you ❥ warnings: rafe being a meanie, slight daddy kink, oral, general contents of smut, minors do not interact! ❥ authors note: i haven’t written in months so, enjoy ❥ pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

he stands in the middle of your bedroom and he's angry, though you don't know why. the string lights you have decorating your wall being the only thing to shed some light into the room, "you can't be here" you say quickly, moving away from the balcony doors and towards him

"well," he scoffs and gestures around your bedroom, "i'm already fucking here" he huffs, rubbing a hand over his jaw before moving it up into his hair

shaking your head you reply, "no rafe, you cannot be here" you step towards him but he steps back, keeping a distance between you both, "get out" you huff pointing at the door

he had woken you up, banging on the balcony doors and when you'd opened the door to ask him what he was doing, he rushed in, not giving you the time to turn him away. "no" he answers simply with a shrug

a groan escapes you as you tilt your head back towards the ceiling, you take another step towards him. he stares down at you, his jaw clenching slightly, "are you high?" you ask as you notice his pupils twice the size they should be

rafe looks away from you, his eyes darting around your room, though nothing has changed since his last visit. you hum to get his attention, reminding him you had spoken, "i don't know" he shrugs again

"okay, you definitely can't be here," you say quickly grabbing at his bicep to pull him around so he's in front of you. planting your hands on his back you start to push him towards the balcony, "go home"

as rafe gets to the doors he growls, "get the fuck off of me" he turns quickly and snatches both of your wrists into one of his hands. you stop and stare up at him before thrashing your arms about, he doesn't let go

the more you struggle against him the more he fights back, holding your wrists almost too tight, you're sure there will be bruises to show for it tomorrow. one of your wrists manages to slip out of his grip and you immediately push at him, he doesn't move though, "rafe, stop, you fucking asshole" you half shout, thankful you’re home alone for the night

he pulls you towards him and his free hand finds your neck, holding you in place, just looking up at him. out of instinct your fingers come up to wrap around his wrist, "stop running your fucking mouth and shut up" he talks slowly, "okay?"

you nod and he lets go of you, though the feeling of his fingers around your throat lingers. your chest rises a little faster as you swallow thickly. before you can stop yourself you're stepping forward, pushing him harder than you did before

rafe stumbles back slightly, his hip bumping off of your dresser as he does but you immediately regret it when he looks at you. he tilts his head quickly, his eyes full of fire before lunging at you, his arms sliding around your waist tightly

he walks you back across the room until your legs hit the edge of your bed, pushing you back until you're falling and laying flat under him. rafe slots his knee between your thighs and leans over you, caging you in, his hands either side of your head

"last fucking warning sweetheart, stop" he talks lowly, his breath fanning over your face as his eyes search yours. you scowl at him and his eyebrow raises, only coming back down when the crease on your forehead disappears, "i'm staying here, do you understand?"

"yes" you reply quietly. rafe opens his mouth, spurring you on without a single word, "yes daddy" you whisper, giving into him. he dips, your noses almost brushing, his forehead resting against yours as he sighs

this happens between you and rafe more than you'd like to admit. he turns up, always high or drunk, out of the blue, you argue and sometimes fight and still, somehow, you end up underneath him

his body relaxes against you, hips coming flush against yours. rough denim scratches against the slither of exposed skin where your sleep shorts have slipped down slightly. the weight of him against you makes you gasp, "there she is, my good girl," rafe finally whispers

he leans on one hand, bringing his free hand to your throat again, this time his fingers are gentle as they sweep over your skin, even the rings he wears are warm and don't leave a chill on you. he presses his thumb into the side of your neck until you whimper, your lips parting involuntary, "rafe,"

"hmm?" he answers, "what's wrong pretty girl?" he's mocking you, you know it. he knows exactly what he's doing to you and you hate it. hating the way your breathing has got heavy in anticipation

"kiss me"

slowly he obliges, dragging your bottom lip down with his thumb, "stick your tongue out, baby" he mumbles and you let your tongue loll out of your mouth. rafe hums and smirks as he spits onto your tongue, tasting like alcohol and weed, groaning to himself when he watches your eyes soften, "c'mere"

your eyes flutter shut as he crowds your space, pushing your tongue back into your mouth with his own, his teeth grazing straight over your bottom lip as he kisses you. it's messy and desperate, like it always is. your hands slide over his neck, feeling veins underneath your palms as you pull him into you

rafe leans down on his forearm and his free hand finds your bare thigh, sliding upwards until he hits the hem of your sleep shorts. his lips start to trail down to your jaw, leaving small wet patches as he goes from where his tongue licks over your skin

his fingers pinch at your thighs, quick and not enough to properly hurt but enough to make your back arch away from the mattress, your tits pushing against his chest as you do. he sucks lightly at your neck, he's everywhere, around you, against you and above you and your cunt flutters and drips at the interaction, soaking your panties

"need these off" rafe complains, dragging your shorts down as far as he can with one hand before moving off of you, completely, just long enough to get them off. he discards them on the floor somewhere before kneeling between your legs

under his gaze you feel tiny, he towers over you with a smirk as he runs his hands down both of your thighs, curling them around to the backs so he can push them back, spreading you open for him. he tuts at your wetness seeping through the thin fabric of your panties and your face reddens

"messy baby" he shakes his head and you pout, he reciprocates the action, though his is mocking but before you can whine at him he drags a knuckle straight up your clothed slit and you moan, loudly, when he presses against your clit

"fuck, rafe," you whimper when he repeats the action, up and down your cunt until his knuckle is sticky and wet, "please" he swaps to his thumb, drawing lazy circles over your aching clit but still, it’s not enough

"please what?" rafe asks you with a tilt of his head, still hovering over you. you roll your hips down against his hand, forcing more pressure against where you need him most, "words" he grunts, moving his hands to your hips, pinning them down onto the bed

your cheeks heat up again and you attempt to turn away, looking anywhere but up at him but he quickly takes hold of your chin, "just fuck me" you whisper, "please" you finish, sliding your hands up underneath his shirt to press your fingers along his hip bone

normally rafe would make you be more specific, letting you mumble out all the disgusting things you let him do to you but this time, he gives in quickly. he moves to stand at the edge of your bed and leans over you, wrapping his hands over your hips before pulling you to the edge too

"need you to come on my face first, angel," he admits, sinking down to his knees in front of you. his hands slide underneath your ass, hooking his fingers under your panties just enough to drag them down your legs

he blows onto your pussy and then licks a stripe from your dripping hole to your clit, flattening his tongue over the aching bud. you pant when he starts to suck, your fingers push through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp gently

"who's pussy is this?" he asks, pulling away, his lips wet and shiny with your arousal. he spits onto your clit while he waits for your answer, licking his bottom lip as he watches it drip down between your folds, "c'mon baby, you know the answer to this"

your brain turns to mush when his thumb starts to spread the wetness around, barely dipping into your needy hole before pulling away, "yours, it's yours," you pant, "always yours, dadd-"

rafe plunges two thick fingers into you, cutting you off as you cry out, your hips bucking off of the bed. he sits back and watches the way you clench around him, silently begging him to move. he pulls out slowly, humming appreciatively when you tighten around just the tips of his fingers

"fuck, oh my god," you moan breathlessly, covering your eyes with your forearm. he slides his fingers back into you, his thumb swiping at your clit as he leans back down, replacing his thumb with his mouth

the sounds coming from your cunt are obscene, between the way he's messily sucking and licking through your folds and the wet squelching as his fingers pump in and out of you

his free hand settles on your tummy, pushing down slightly when he curls his fingers inside of you. he's so deep you can almost feel it in your chest, the warm coil starting to tighten underneath his large hand

he presses into your spot and eats out out like a man starved, his eyes closed, lashes touching his cheeks as he drowns in you. your chest heaves, moans and whimpers tumbling past your lips before you can stop them.

"rafe, god," you pull gently on his hair, keeping him in place as your orgasm builds far too fast. he hums against you, the vibrations against your clit making your back arch off of the bed. he knows your close, he can feel your walls pulsing around him, "i'm so fucking close"

you don't even realise his hand has moved from your stomach until you hear the clang of metal, his belt coming undone. you push yourself up on your elbows to watch him desperately pushing his jeans down just enough to wrap his hand around his cock

his shoulder jerks as he works his hand over his dick and he moans against you, spit runs from the corner of his mouth. the whole scene sends you over the edge, "i'm, fuck,” you whine, "i'm coming"

rafe works you through it, his fingers slowing inside of you as you drip around him. you push his head away, shuddering violently as you border on overstimulated, flopping back against the bed

"oh angel," rafe tuts as he stands, his cock still weeping in his hand, his jeans pushed down around his thighs. you stare up at him while your breathing evens out. he leans down over you, his free hand cupping your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss.

you taste yourself on his lips and tongue, whimpering into his mouth when he grazes his teeth over your lip. "you didn't ask to come" he mumbles against you, barely pulling away long enough to speak

he gives you no time to process his words, he flips you over onto your hands and knees, pushing your legs apart so you're on display for him, "raf- daddy," you rush out, "i didn't mean to, please" you defend yourself because you know what's coming

"i thought i trained you better," he huffs and moves around behind you. your hear his belt hit the floor and then his hand squeezing at your hip, pulling you back towards him, the tip of his cock brushing at your entrance, "you should know better"

all the air in your lungs get punched out when he fills you in one swift thrust. he's huge, barely fitting inside you, "shit, you're so big," you cry out, running from him, his cock almost slipping out of you

"don't fucking," he grits, pushing down on your back to pull you back towards him, filling you up again, "run from me." he leans over you, hair brushing your back as he rocks back and forth, forcing the last inch of his cock inside of you, balls deep, “so fuckin' tight,"

tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle with the stretch and overstimulation, your forehead pressing into the sheets. rafe coos behind you, "c'mon baby, you can take it, know you can," he pulls back and slams back into you, both of you groaning in tandem

"please, please," you babble, your brain turning to mush when he starts to thrust, deep but still harsh, his hips slamming into your asscheeks hard enough to leave bruises, "please"

"please what?" he asks, smugly. he kneels on the edge of the bed, forcing you forward a little as he finds the leverage he needed. your spot gets abused by the fat head of his cock every time he pushes in, feeling the veins on his dick pulsing against your soft walls

unable to form words you don't answer, instead you cry out. a mix of moans and whimpers constantly falling from your mouth, barely able to breathe between each one. his fingers thread into your hair, pushing your head down into the mattress as he grunts loudly behind you

his free hand winds around your waist, wet fingers sliding over your clit furiously. you clench around him like a vice, sucking him in and keeping him there. he moans loudly through gritted teeth behind you, tilting his head towards the ceiling, the noise rumbles through his chest and his cock twitches, you know he's close

"oh, fuck" rafe shudders, letting go of your head, he takes both of your wrists into his hand, pulling you back against him with every unrelenting thrust, "such a good fucking pussy," he growls

"s'yours, all yours" you cry, your orgasm building desperately, "can i come? pl-, oh god, please" resorting to begging is your only hope and you know it works with rafe, usually.

"not yet angel" he starts to slow, pulling back to look at where you're stretched around him, a creamy ring left around the base of his cock, "hold it baby, know you can"

you whine loudly, letting the end turn into a cry. your thighs shake and his thumb continues to press almost too hard against your clit. you clench your eyes shut, trying with everything in you not to focus on the fire burning hot inside you

"gonna ruin your little pussy," rafe starts to ramble, his hips falling out of time with the push and pull of your bodies, "keep you stuffed with my come so you're mine, aren't you?" he pants hard, "say it"

"i'm yours, only yours" you gasp and grit your teeth. your wrists get released from his grasp and you snake a hand between your thighs, wrapping your fingers around his wrist in attempts to stop the assault on your clit, "please"

he ignores your pleas completely, moving his free hand to your hip, pulling you back onto him hard. he grunts and growls behind you, "fuck, you can come" he pants, the coil snaps and you start to come with a shout, tears streaming down your face, "there you go, good fucking girl" he slaps at your clit once before moving his hand away

stars appear in your vision as your cunt contracts, pushing his fat cock out when he starts to come, warm thick ropes of cum splashing up your walls, "don't, fucking shit," he grits, his dick pulses and he forces his way back into you "don't push me out, need to keep it all in, baby" he finishes breathlessly

your body and brain feel like jelly and you only know you're breathing because you can hear it, panting in time with the boy who lowers over you. his hands planted either side of your head, he leans down and peppers kisses over your sweaty shoulders, his chest sticking to you, "you okay?" he mumbles into your skin, "did so fucking good for me"

whimpering and nodding you turn over underneath him, your bodies still pressed together, he kisses at your nose and cheeks, warm salty tears wetting his lips. minutes go by and his hips pull back when his cock softens, slipping out of you with a vulgar squelch

rafe kisses your forehead but then moves off of you. you reach for him, fingers brushing his sides, "need to clean you up so you can sleep," he talks softly and retreats to the bathroom to grab a towel.

when he comes back he parts your legs, you whine and try to shut them, flinching when the towel bumps against your clit, "rafe," you sigh, pushing him away with your foot

"i know, i'm nearly done" he whispers and wraps gentle fingers around your ankle, pulling your leg away from him, "i'm done, i'm done" he says quickly when you whine. he discards the towel on the floor and looks down at you

"what?"

he scratches at his already pink and blotchy chest, "do you still want me to get out?" he asks softly and you reach for his other hand, lacing your fingers together so you can pull him gently onto your bed

"no, you can stay, baby”

[dixons-sunshine]

Girl Of My Dreams | Van x Fem!Reader

Summary: After being away at college for a few months, you come home to find your boyfriend more than happy to see you. However, something triggers a string of insecure thoughts, and it’s up to Van to ensure you that you are the girl of his dreams.

Genre: Slightly angsty, but mainly fluff.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to cheating (there isn’t any because Van would never.), insecurities.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Requested by @cordelhya. This is my very first time writing for Van, so I hope I did an okay job. I hope y’all like this!

A small shriek left your mouth at the sudden, unexpected contact from behind. You were lifted off your feet and spun around, that familiar melodic laugh filling the air, making you giggle as well. When you were finally lowered back down to the stableness of the earth, you turned around and locked eyes with those stunning, cerulean-coloured eyes of your boyfriend of almost two years, a breathtaking smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, he leaned down and captured your lips with his in a sweet, tender kiss, his large hands coming up to frame your face. You instantly reciprocated, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him softly. You nearly melted in his embrace, his familiar scent, his familiar touch, just him in general reminding you just how much you had missed him. How all those months away at college had proven that distance indeed makes the heart grow fonder.

You were the first to pull away. When you did, you smiled up at the blonde-haired man, admiring him up close for the first time in—what felt like—forever. God, how you had missed him.

“Van,” you said his name softly, one of your hands sliding up his neck to cup his cheeks.

Van smiled down at you as he instinctively leaned into your touch, his ocean-like eyes glimmering in the late morning sun. “Hey, Babe,” he greeted you in a voice just as soft, his hands moving down to settle on your hips. “Welcome back.”

You chuckled lightly at his words. “Thanks. It’s great to be back. I missed this place.” A beat of silence, before you continued. “I missed you.”

Van smiled softly at that. “I missed you, too. So much.”

Despite not really wanting to, Van stepped out of your embrace and instead extended his hand towards you, a silent offer for you to take it. When you did, he gently tugged you, making you fall into step beside him as the two of you began walking along the waterbed. The casualness of the small gesture made it feel like too much time and no time at all had passed.

“This place sucks without you, y’know,” Van commented, nudging your shoulder with his. “There’s only so much the rest of these lowlifes can do to keep me entertained when you’re not around. It gets lonely.”

Despite the joking tone he used, you knew that there was an underlying sadness to his words. It was no secret to you that Van longed to be able to do what you had done; go off to college, meet new people, make friends his age, and all the other things that came with being an independent young adult. But he could not. Or rather, he was not allowed to. His father needed him, and Van felt obligated to stay.

You called Van every night. He would reminisce about joining you at college, and even talked about enrolling to go with you next Fall. However, whether or not that would become a reality, you did not know.

You cleared your throat, hoping to make your tone as light and joking as your boyfriend’s. “I mean, I’m not surprised. I am pretty awesome.”

Van laughed and nodded. “Yeah, and not at all humble, it seems.”

“Why be humble when I know I’m amazing?” you joked, your heart thumping against your chest as you saw the beautiful smile you put on Van’s face. “It’s ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he retorted playfully.

“Yeah, and yet you love me.”

“Eh, temporary fit of insanity. Some counseling and I’ll be fine.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Now who’s the ridiculous one?”

Van hummed, pretending to think about it, before smirking. “Still you.”

He laughed when you lightly shoved his shoulder, moving closer to press a quick kiss to your temple, before helping you up the step and onto the wooden platform. He led you to the few lawn chairs right on the edge of the dock, before settling down onto one of them and watching as you did the same.

“So, give me the rundown,” he began, lounging back in the chair. “How’s college.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Nothing to really complain about, other than the fact that I’m getting sick and tired of having to hear the people in the dorm next to mine going at it like fucking rabbits.”

“I think you mean “fucking like rabbits”,” he corrected you jokingly.

You chuckled and nodded. “Same thing.” You followed Van’s lead and settled against the chair, allowing the hot summer sun to bake down on you as you enjoyed the company of your boyfriend after so long of not seeing him. “What about you? How—”

“Van! Hey!”

The sound of a woman’s voice cut you off. Looking up, you saw a brunette, wearing a tight crop top and shorts so short that it left almost nothing to the imagination, approaching you and Van. Or, more so, just Van.

Van sent the woman a friendly smile, looking up at her through squinted eyes against the sun’s rays. “Allie, hi.”

“Hi,” she greeted him, a girlish giggle tumbling out of her plush, red lips. “Sorry to bother you when you’re hanging out with your friend, but I just wanted to ask—”

The woman’s voice slowly faded from your ears. A frown tugged at your eyebrows, and you focused on the wood of the chair instead of the woman and Van. Unwillingly, nasty, unwanted, miserable thoughts plagued your mind, and you had to resist the urge to just jump up and leave.

There was no denying that the woman Van was talking to was downright gorgeous. There was definitely also no denying that Van looked like he had been sculpted by Greek gods. Back in high school, all the girls had wanted him. You had been one of those girls not so long ago.

You never fully understood why Van had chosen you, but you chose to ignore that voice at the back of your head telling you that you did not deserve hm. However, as you watched Van interact with the woman, all those insecurities came flooding back.

You had been away at college for months. You had not come back home for Spring break, meaning that the last time Van had seen you was around Christmas. He went half a year without being able to see you. Half a year… That was an awfully long time, and anything could have happened in that time. Anything...

“Babe? Are you okay?”

The sound of Van’s voice snapped you from your agonizingly cruel thoughts. You snapped your head up and locked eyes with your boyfriend, and your heart almost melted at the concerned look on his face.

You swallowed at the lump in your throat and nodded slowly. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Where’d you go?” he inquired, motioning over to his own head to show you that he was talking about where you had gone mentally.

You shook your head. “Nowhere great,” you admitted softly, your eyebrows furrowing together once more. You did not really want to voice your insecurities to Van, but you knew that communication was important, so it was better to get this out of the way than let it consume you from the inside out. “Just thinking…”

“’Bout what?” he asked, leaning forward to see you better.

“Just…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath before continuing. “We haven’t seen each other in a while, and I’ve heard from some of my friends that their long distance relationships didn’t work out because of, well, lying and—”

“Cheatin’?” Van finished for you, a look of understanding crossing his features. He sat up properly, swung his legs over the side of the chair, and leaned forward to take your hand in his. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles soothingly, a look of sincerity on his face.

“First of all, don’t feel bad for bringing this up, okay?” When you nodded, he continued. “Okay. I understand where you’re comin’ from, and I don’t blame you for being scared about this. I know we haven’t been together in person for a while, but that did not change the fact that I love you, and only you. No other girl exists to me like that. I promise. When I’m lonely and I miss you, you know what I do?”

“What?” you asked softly.

Van reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, before showing you the small picture in it; a picture of the two of you together, in a photo booth, smiling brightly at the camera. The picture had a few crinkles in it, showing that it had been handled multiple times.

“I look at this picture,” he replied, a small smile on his face. “I look at this picture, and I remind myself that the wait is worth it. That I’m gonna see you soon and that everythin’ will be better.” He closed his wallet and slipped it back into his pocket, before looking back at you again. “I don’t think you realize just how much I love you, Sweetheart. Why would I want to lose you, the girl of my dreams, because of some meaningless fling? Not only is that fuckin’ stupid, it’s goddamn mental. I mean, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? I wanna know what they feed you at that school because you look good enough to eat.”

You giggled lightly at his words. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah,” he agreed without a second thought. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got every guy at that school wantin’ you. But for now, and as long as you will have me, you’ll be my girl, and I will be your guy. Nobody else matters. Okay?”

You nodded, a soft, genuine smile on your face. “Okay,” you whispered. “I love you, Van.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” A few moments of silence passed, before Van tugged you up from your chair.

“Where are we going?” you asked in confusion, but allowed him to lead you away.

Van sent you a look you knew all too well, a look that had a shiver rolling up your spine. “You were right, though. You have been away for a while. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to properly take care of you, and I’m plannin’ on correctin’ that.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Then take me home, Van.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[batboysanonymous]

A Line Between Us (Pt. II)

Cassian x Reader

Summary: Y/n’s confession leaves her reeling as she grapples with Cassian’s sudden distance and her own unresolved feelings.

Pt. I

​​Pt. III

Word Count: 1k

──────────────────────────────

Y/n hadn’t seen Cassian for three days. That in itself wasn’t unusual—missions came up, tasks that demanded his attention as Rhys General. But this time, his absence felt pointed, deliberate. She could still hear the way he’d dismissed her, the cold finality of his words.

“I wish you would think of me when I wasn’t right in front of you.” The confession haunted her. It hadn’t been planned; the words had just slipped out, carrying with them the weight of years she’d spent pretending her feelings didn’t exist.

She found herself wandering through the bustling streets of Velaris, the beauty of the City of Starlight doing little to soothe the storm inside her. She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed when she nearly collided with someone.

“Y/n,” a familiar voice said, sharp with surprise.

She looked up to find Azriel standing before her, his shadows swirling lazily around his shoulders. His piercing gaze studied her, his head tilting slightly.

“Az,” she greeted, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s obvious.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but there was something knowing in his expression.

“What?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

Azriel raised a brow. “You’re distracted. And considering the last time I saw you was with Cassian, I’d guess he’s the reason.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she looked away, pretending to examine a stall displaying vibrant scarves. “It’s nothing.”

Azriel didn’t press, but his silence was almost worse. His shadows curled closer to him, as if waiting for her to speak.

“He’s been distant,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “More than usual. I think I… pushed him too far.”

Azriel regarded her for a long moment before speaking. “Cassian has walls. High ones. But if there’s anyone who can break through them, it’s you.”

Her chest tightened, but she shook her head. “He doesn’t see me that way, Az. He never has.”

Azriel’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. “You’d be surprised.”

──────────────────────────────

The bond had snapped into place for Cassian months ago.

It had happened during a training session, much like the one that had brought them to the brink days ago. Y/n had been sparring with him, her movements quick and precise, her face lit with determination. He remembered the exact moment it happened: she’d laughed after landing a hit on him, a laugh so pure and full of life that it had stopped him cold.

The world had gone silent, and he’d felt it—a pull so strong it stole the air from his lungs. His chest had burned, his instincts screaming at him to claim her, protect her, love her.

He’d known instantly what it was.

And he’d panicked.

Cassian had spent centuries guarding his heart, hiding it behind charm and wit. Letting Y/n in meant risking everything—losing her friendship, losing her if he couldn’t keep her safe. So he’d buried it, pretending the bond didn’t exist. But it had been torture, every moment with her sharpening the ache in his chest.

And now, after her words, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself together.

──────────────────────────────

Y/n sat with Mor and Feyre in the sitting room of the townhouse, their laughter and conversation a welcome distraction. But even surrounded by her friends, her mind wandered back to Cassian.

Mor caught her staring at the fire, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “You’re quiet tonight, Y/n.”

Y/n blinked, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

“Or thinking about a certain Illyrian general,” Mor teased, her golden eyes glinting with mischief.

Feyre smirked, sipping her wine. “It’s painfully obvious, you know.”

Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Is it that bad?”

Mor nudged her playfully. “You’d have to be blind not to see it. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Y/n muttered. “He doesn’t feel the same way.”

Feyre exchanged a look with Mor, her expression softening. “You might be surprised,” she said gently.

Before Y/n could respond, Rhysand appeared in the doorway, his face grim.

“There’s been an attack near the border,” he announced. “Cassian and Azriel are already on their way.”

Panic surged through Y/n. “I want to help.”

Rhys hesitated, his violet eyes scanning her face. “This isn’t your fight, Y/n.”

Her jaw tightened. “It is if Cassian is in danger.”

Rhysand studied her for a long moment, and with a look in his eye she couldn't quite decipher he nodded before saying, “Stay close to me.”

──────────────────────────────

The battlefield was chaos. Y/n followed Rhys through the fray, her heart pounding as she searched for Cassian. She spotted Azriel first, his blades flashing as he fought off two enemies simultaneously.

“Where’s Cassian?” she shouted.

Azriel jerked his head toward the far side of the field, where a group of Illyrians had been surrounded. Y/n’s stomach dropped as she caught sight of Cassian, blood streaking his armor, his wings torn.

“Cassian!” she screamed, sprinting toward him.

He turned at the sound of her voice, his face contorted with pain. Time seemed to slow as one of the enemy soldiers lunged at him, a blade aimed for his chest.

“No!”

Before she could reach him, the world tilted. A blinding, searing pain shot through her chest, and she fell to her knees, gasping. It wasn’t her pain—she knew that instantly. It was Cassian’s.

The bond had snapped into place, the force of it stealing her breath. She could feel him—his fear, his desperation, his love.

“Y/n,” his voice echoed in her mind, ragged and broken.

She forced herself to her feet, tears streaming down her face as she fought her way toward him. But when she reached him, his body crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

“Cassian,” she whispered, dropping to her knees beside him.

His eyes fluttered open, pain clouding his gaze. “Y/n… I—”

Before he could finish, his eyes slid shut, his body going limp in her arms.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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[l-in-the-light]

Trafalgar Law: fear of closeness and touch part 2, the extended edition

Writing another post about it, because I have a lot of thoughts I need to organize for myself. This time it will be more like my interpretation about Law and his relationships with people than about the touch itself. And also I forgot one of the most crucial scenes about the topic (because ofc I would forget something so important), so I will start with it:

The last touch he remembers from Flevance is hiding under the pile of corpses, cold dehumanized bodies, treated like trash. No one wanted to touch them, just like no one wanted to be touched by Law. How poetic that Law escaped Flevance with a death sentence while hiding among the dead, because he will be treated like he's dead to the world from now on.

This reminds me of a manga I once read, Shigeshoushi (The Embalmer). It's about a guy whose job is embalming the dead, and he is ostracized, feared and refused by people as a result. Contact with death and dead bodies is taboo in Shinto and folk culture of Japan in general. If you think it's a thing of the past, I reccommend to watch Okuribito (Departures), it's really good and this topic is at the heart of the movie.

Anyway, back to the manga, warning for spoilers. Situation escalates to the point when the only human touch the guy can get is that of him handling the corpses for his job and that really messes up with his mental health. His despair leads him to engage himself in risky situations just to get by, casual sexual encounters with strangers become the only form of intimacy he can get and he soon gets addicted to it, but it still lacks the emotional warmth and love he desperately craves, so it's never enough for him. Of course to even get those encounters he has to lie about his job and whenever his lie gets exposed and he is confronted about it, forced to listen to all those women blaming him, feeling disgusted by what he forced on them (it was never forced, but suddenly it's unwanted after they learn he embalms dead bodies every day), and it just triggers and deepens his trauma.

I wonder if you can tell where I'm going with this comparison. Law is definitely as starved for touch and love as the main protagonist is. Still, I don't believe Law would become hypersexual (tho that's just my personal impression, especially after he so blatantly refused Monett), but most importantly unlike the main character Law would definitely not desperately beg for the touch. It's just not how Law is, he doesn't like to impose himself on others if he absolutely doesn't have to. Not to mention he can't bear asking openly for help or for anything really, not after the Vergo incident. It was the last time he ever begged for something.

Law seems to be the type to neglect his own needs to the point that he makes stupid and reckless decisions based on his fear of losing people (callback to Wano and imprisoned Hearts). When people dear to him are in danger, his first instinct is to rush and help them unless he's completely immobilized. That's the level of "prioritizing other people's safety and needs" he believes in, he would do it every time, but he hates when people do it for him. Mostly because he deeply believes Corazon got hurt because of him, and Corazon gave him all that love Law was starving for. And Law believes Cora-san finally died for it.

Add his trauma of expecting people to not want to be touched by him into the equation. That's why he has problems expressing his own need for love (and touch) from that point onward. He acts so tough, doesn't allow himself to show weakness and will definitely never ask for love, he learned his lesson on that.

But what about Heart Pirates? They love him! He clearly protects and deeply cares for them, but in each scene he is with them, not counting Bepo, he keeps them at a distance. I do believe Law treats his crew more or less on equal terms, he favours freedom after all, but their relationship is restricted by his fear and makes it significantly more asymmetrical than the one Luffy has with his crew. I do think Penguin and Shachi are more important to Law than the rest of his crew, they're best friends, they've formed the Heart Pirates together, but he doesn't allow them to be on touchy feely basis with him. That's reserved for Bepo. Bepo is basically the last safe haven Law allowed himself to have up until Strawhats happened.

Law at Sabaody creates three new bonds with people: with two supernovas and Jean Bart. The latter he takes into his crew and I believe it's because Jean Bart has no other place to go, especially with Marines and Pacifistas running around the island. It's possible Law does it all the time and his crew (beyond the original four) got expanded because of that.

Law's bond with Kid started on a wrong foot, not only Kid judges Law based on prejudice and "bad rep" flying around about him, he also accussed him of lack of manners (triggering a flashback to Vergo), all in Law's hearing range. It's not really surprising later on Law doesn't want to owe Kid a favour by letting Kid take care of the Marines. Law clearly doesn't want to be indebted to someone who feels disgust towards him (I don't think Kid is disgusted by him, but that's what Law thinks at this point). And even after Wano it seems Law made sure that they're even, none is indebted to the other. For Law it was just a temporary alliance, he kept his distance, they didn't end up becoming friends.

Last new bond Law created was with Luffy. It started indirectly at first, Luffy was defending his fishman friend. Things said about Hatchan triggered a trauma response in Law ("Don't come closer! Disgusting! He will spread diseases!"), in my headcanon freezing him in the spot. But Luffy defended his friend and indirectly also Law by punching the Celestial Dragon, in similar fashion to Corazon defending Law by punching the doctors spouting similar prejudice about amber lead syndrome.

Law thanked Luffy for that and he felt safe doing so, after all what Luffy did was never directed at Law himself, but the gratitude must have confused Luffy to no end (Why is that guy thanking me? I didn't do anything for him!). Law didn't mind this bond at this moment exactly because it was so indirect, as a result he allowed himself to interact with Luffy and even took the first step, probably thinking it will lead to nothing. But he would never do it if not for Luffy's indirect impact on Law. If that's the expected level for casual bonds Law has set up, I doubt many occassions appeared for that before. It just shows he avoids people as a general rule, period.

But things changed after they left the auction house. Law is displeased with Kid, only telling him not to order him around and refusing to even talk with him, but his dynamic with Luffy is completely different, he doesn't feel bad about it despite being treated like accomplice in the whole Celestial Dragon incident.

He even allows himself to tease him a bit. There's no bad air between them. It almost feels like Law feels more emotionally available despite them being strangers, or rather exactly because they're strangers here and Law thinks they will also leave as strangers, which gives him the freedom to be more open.

They fought together, mostly by accident, but for Luffy that's enough to already feel a bit attached to Kid and Law. He declares he's after One Piece, implying from now on they will be rivals.

That doesn't earn him any response from Law. In fact, he just smirks and retreats without a word.

There are multiple possible reasons for his reaction here, but one of them is important right now: if Law said anything, he would acknowledge that bond, that of being a rival to Luffy. He didn't want it, in fact he wanted them to remain strangers, with no lingering attachments. That's why, when he got offered Luffy's friendship (disguised as rivalship, mind you), he turns back and retreats.

That's his answer. Later in Amazon Lily he also ends up retreating without even waiting for Luffy to say his thanks.

And how ironic that the next time they see each other it's Law who ends up extending his hand, not once, but twice: first by saving Luffy's life by risking his own, and second time by proposing alliance. I can only imagine Luffy's surprise: he got rejected before, but now it's Law himself proposing it! And what a funny guy he is, he doesn't need to offer friendship, because for Luffy they're already friends, after all didn't Law save his life? Law though just needed help, but wouldn't ask for it directly, because we know he never does that anymore, so instead he offered a bait. Frankly he didn't need to, Luffy would do anything he wanted him to anyway. Luffy ofc thought the alliance is a fun idea, but in the end he accepted it because it's Law who needed it to be an alliance, he wouldn't accept help otherwise. Also alliance felt impersonal and safe, without the need to be emotionally open.

There's so many seperate frames of Law just staring and thinking upon their reunion. He's conflicted. Also at this point their relationship changed, whether Law wanted it or not. He was there when Luffy lost Ace, saw him breaking down, definitely thought they now share something in common: they both lost people who were the dearest to them. I'm also sure he could see through Luffy's smile, he knew there's no way he would be already "okay" after just two years.

Unusual whimsical frame of Luffy. He closed his eyes, not listening to the words spoken, but instead listening to his own heart. He knows he needs to kidnap Caesar, that's what Law asked him to do, but Luffy doesn't just want to do what he's told, he wants to make sure the person he is doing it for is happy. It's a callback to Luffy's deepest regret: leaving Sabo with his family, assuming things would be better this way, without making sure first if that's something that would make Sabo actually happy.

Ever since Luffy does this double-check-for-no-regrets for all of his friends and crewmates. He follows Nami to Arlong Park and waits patiently in case she actually needs help. She questions Kyros' choice and goes to all the way to Rebecca to the castle just to ask her if she's really fine with staying seperated from her dad. And he does it here as well. Would kidnapping Caesar make Law actually happy, Luffy wonders. And probably thinks back to their previous encounter, in Sabaody, and Law's mysterious line after Luffy punched the Celestial Dragon: "Thanks Strawhat, you showed me something interesting". And Luffy found his answer and it's this:

Punching Caesar. Apparently Luffy did something right in Sabaody and he thinks it was about the punching, so he does it again now as well. Ofc he wants to punch Caesar anyway, but he does pause before doing that, he actually doesn't jump for it straightaway, it's AFTER he thinks about it. Luffy decided this is what would make Law actually happy, despite going against the plan. Luffy didn't believe following Law's plan will actually make Law happy, but punching his enemies will.

And yet Law doesn't look happy, but let's look more closely to his body languague. He turns around, doesn't declare his unhappiness directly to Luffy's face, he's making an emotional retreat again despite shouting. He's giving mixed signals. So was Luffy wrong?

Law is trying to hide his smile. Making sure no one notices. He's trying to maintain the distance and remain cold, but seems it's working less and less efficiently.

I will let you decide it for yourselves whether Luffy was right or wrong in the end.

There is more nuance about this I didn't even touch yet, for example the drastic gap between Marines fearing Law and calling him a monster, and Stawhats (minus Luffy), at first fearful and suspicious of Law, but it took them like 5 minutes to change their mind and trust him just like Luffy did.

In Dressrosa Law declares that, deep in his heart, he actually also wants to kick Doflamingo's butt. Luffy doesn't even act surprised upon hearing that. Of course, he knew already, Law didn't even have to say it.

While in Dressrosa Law attempts to break the alliance, send off half the Strawhats to safety and despite barely being able to move himself he takes care of Luffy in the final countdown. Almost like he already treats them like his own crew, keeping them safe. If you ask me, someone got attached. And the pinnacle of it is when Law shares with us that he aims to either live or die with Luffy (not die for him, unlike Luffy's own crew declaring in this arc). That's the best he could offer and he knows how much it's painful when someone dies *for you*, he wouldn't inflict that pain on Luffy again, not when he knows Luffy thinks of him as a friend.

And finally in Wano Law finally opens up more and lashes out at Strawhats, just like he did at Corazon. He no longer feels the need to emotionally distance himself all the time, or keeping it all bottled up behind a stoic cold facade and impersonal "alliance". That's how he shows his worry and affection, he considers them his responsibility in Wano.

He also admits for the very first time his fear of losing people. "The plan isn't worth anyone dying" (in this case - Zoro dying). He allows himself to trust and to be vulnerable.

If you think Law is torn about his growing connection with Strawhats, then you're thinking the same as me. He allowed himself to get attached and he didn't want to initially.

Is it really alright if I touch you too…? (ready to retreat his hand at any moment he senses it's unwanted after all)

His words are often rough and cold, but his actions speak for themselves. He trusts the Strawhats by this point, they're his second crew, and he would do the same for them he would do for his Hearts.

And now he has a problem, he gained more people he is afraid of losing. New friends.

[mitsiepitsie]

Awaiting

Ahhhh, the secret times audio for this card painted such a vivid scene in my mind, that I had to write out the rest of it. Sylus's lines are taken verbatim from the card, the rest is my interpretation. Unproofed as always, here's 1500 words and a bit for your reading pleasure. TW gunshot wound, gunfight.

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

The darkness around you is oppressive as you glance around, briefly spotting the tiny red lights on the visors of the men surrounding you in the bushes. Five, six, no, more, a dozen strong, at least. You don’t know what faction or organization they’re with and why they’re after you, but you know you need to get out of here, now. 

A quick look at your watch tells you one of his safe houses should be nearby, the abandoned villa where he rescued that kitten that day. A bullet whizzing past your head snaps you to attention, and then you’re running, making a mad dash for the relative safety of the abandoned villa, trying to lose the people following you by darting left and right randomly.

You burst onto a small clearing, cursing as a masked man, completely in black intercepts you with a shit eating grin on his face. You aim your gun at him, but he was waiting for that, and suddenly, pain blooms blindingly in your left shoulder. You recoil from the impact, reeling in pain, and then, he’s standing above you, aiming again. Without thinking, you fling out your right arm and blindly shoot in his general direction, his howl of pain somehow satisfying to your ears as he crumples to the ground in front of you. 

You grit your teeth and force yourself to your feet again, groaning at the lurch in your stomach as you do, but then you’re running again, gaining momentum with each step, though you no longer have it in you to zig a lot of zags. And then, the villa comes into view, and you’re through the gates and crashing into the door, the old lock no match for the impact. 

Still having the sense to close the door behind you, you lean against it and try to calm your erratic breaths. You can hear some shouting in the distance, the voices barely audible over the sound of your heart beating out of your chest. You drag yourself to the end of the hall, facing the door as you sink down onto the floor, trying to inspect your wound and think of a course of action. 

Just as you discover the bullet went straight through, the door flies open, your arm flying up in instinct as you aim for the intruder. 

“You welcome this house’s owner by pointing a gun at his head?” Sylus intones, shaking his silvery head at you incredulously, “Ok then..”

Before you manage to retort, he brings a finger to his lips and quietly shuts the door again and stalks over to where you are sitting on the floor. “Shh, they might still be listening in. Keep it down.” 

You lower your gun and resume your inspection of the wound on your shoulder, muttering wryly that you could’ve used his presence a few minutes earlier. 

“How was I supposed to know you were here?” he mutters as he crouches down beside you, his eyes fixed on the bloody stain on your uniform. 

You let out a mirthless snicker. “It sure didn’t take you long to find me.”

His voice is suddenly in your ear as he closes in on you. “Look up,” he says, gaze not leaving the bullet wound, “To your right. See that black spot? It's a surveillance camera.”

A colorful swear is on your lips as Sylus simply continues. “The system notified me as soon as the door lock was broken.”

He shifts, carefully peeling back the lapel of your jacket. “Does it hurt?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

You try to shrug, forced to wince as you do. “I’m sure you’ve had worse,” you grunt at him as you stand up, trying your damnedest to ignore your wobbly legs as you slide your gun into it’s holster on your leg. 

He grins wryly. “You’re still acting tough, huh?” You try not to be affected by the disapproval underlying his words. 

Sylus grabs your waist, gently supporting you as he guides you into one of the adjoining rooms. “Sit, on the bed,” he directs you. 

It’s all you can do to blow a raspberry in his direction as you sink down on the mattress. You watch as he pulls open a nearby dresser and starts fishing out packets of bandages and other first aid supplies. He walks back over to you, a single eyebrow raised at your antics. 

“Now is not the time for you to be a big girl,” he says sarcastically, lightly sitting down on the bed beside you, “Well…unless you have arms on your back to treat your injury.”

You’re tempted to blow another raspberry right into his smug face, but decide to settle for a roll of your eyes instead. “I’d rather grow a pair of wings, instead,” you say, trying to best his stupid little joke. 

You think you see a flash of surprise flit across his eyes, but it must’ve been a trick of the light, as the next second, he’s right back to commanding you in a tone that brooks no discussion. “Turn around, take off your jacket.”

Begrudgingly, you comply, carefully shrugging off the company issued jacket and turning your back to him. There’s some rustling behind you, and suddenly, a cold substance is spread onto your broken skin. You suck in a breath through your teeth. “What the fuck is that?” you hiss at him, the stinging bringing tears to your eyes. 

“It’s medicine,” he simply answers, “hold on.”

His hand returns, spreading more of the salve onto your shoulder. You suck in another breath, groaning at the intense burning spreading from the wound. 

“Quiet,” he mutters into your right ear as his other hand clamps over your mouth, “I know it hurts, but if I have to keep my hand over your mouth, I won’t be able to treat your wound.”

He releases you again, and you mutter under your breath about not being certain you want this kind of treatment. 

“If you really can bear it, I have some canned meat,” Sylus says, a playful lilt in his tone now, “The slices should be thick enough for you to sink your teeth into.”

You glance back over your right shoulder, frowning at him in blatant disgust. 

He catches your eye, grinning. “It was just a suggestion, you don't need to look at me like that,” he chuckles, “Isn't it better than being spotted because you're too loud?”

He takes a second to look around the both of you, searching for another option. “Do you want to bite down on the gauze pad?” he asks, waving an unopened packet in front of you, “that works too.”

You shake your head, gritting out the retort that you would rather bite on his hand, if anything.  

“Bear with me a moment,” he says, and he leans back as if he needs to collect himself, “Ok. Let’s continue.”

His breath is right in your ear as you feel a dull pricking sensation, and you realise the medicine earlier was some kind of numbing agent, and now he is suturing the bullet hole in your shoulder. Another breath, another prick and pull at your skin. 

“I’m almost done,” Sylus mutters gently, “One last-” He trails off, sitting up straighter on the bed. Footsteps resound on the pavement outside, or, at least you hope they’re still outside. You hear him breathing heavily for a moment as he weighs your options. 

“Where’s your weapon?” he whispers, lips almost touching your ear this time.  

You twitch your right leg in answer. “ It’s on your right leg?”

Before you can bend over to grab it, he halts you by grabbing your wrist. “Don’t move,” he says, “Your wound will open up. I'll get it.”

Sylus releases your wrist and you watch, almost in a trance as his large hand ghosts around you from his position at your back to move over your thigh. Despite the situation, despite yourself, you shiver at his questing fingers, almost disappointed as they make contact with the cold metal strapped to your leg. 

“Load the gun for me,” he breathes, holding the gun up to your face.  

Deftly, you blindly snap the magazine in place. He snickers into your ear, and you shiver again as he quietly stands up from the bed to stand before you.

“We make a good team,” he comments, holding out his hand to you, “Give me your hand.” 

You shake your head, holding out your own hand for him to place the gun back into. He raises an eyebrow at you, staring down his nose at you. 

“Do you want to do it yourself?” he whispers, a pointed look at your wounded shoulder as he weighs your weapon in his hand, “But I have your gun. There’s also no place for you to take cover. Just don't let go, if you want to stay out of the crossfire.” 

He grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet before leading you towards the hallway again, careful to keep you covered behind him. “I’d rather not bandage more wounds in the next few minutes,” Sylus offers over his shoulder with a winning smile, before raining down hell and damnation at the people who dared wound his beloved. 

[sai-int]

HOW TO DISAPPEAR | Sour - 2

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"How’ve you been?"

His words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain. You don’t respond—your gaze locked on your glass, the drink familiar in its color and weight. You take a sip, the sweet burn sharper than you remember, filling a bitter void you hadn’t noticed until now.

His hand covers yours at the center of the table, breaking your trance. The warmth is painfully familiar, a sting that cuts deeper than you’d like to admit. When your gaze lifts, John’s eyes are already on you, steady and unflinching, as though he hasn’t looked away since he sat down.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, time seems to slow. You glance at his hand—the same one that used to hold you, steadying you through the chaos of your lives, moments that were long behind you.

His face is more weathered now, something in his eyes harder, colder. You can see the years in him just as clearly as you feel them in yourself. Time hasn't been kind to either of you, but it’s the space it’s created between you that cuts the deepest.

You pull your hand away, instinctively trying to reclaim some distance. You steel yourself, but your voice comes out hoarse. "What are you doing here, John?"

He doesn’t flinch. Never does. It's almost unnerving how little he's changed. He leans back in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. "Came to check in," he says casually, downing his whiskey like it’s nothing, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

You can’t suppress the laugh that bubbles up, bitter and sharp. "You're four years too late for a 'check-in,' John."

His jaw tightens, something flickering behind his eyes, but he doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling lazily in the dim bar light, and exhales slowly. "Things got... complicated," he mutters, his voice rough, like he’s still unsure how to say it.

You want to argue, to throw everything you’ve been holding back for years right at him, but something keeps you quiet. You take a generous gulp of your drink before setting it down with a soft clink. The tension between you thickens, oppressive.

"You left me, John," you say, voice low but sharp, "You walked away. And now you think you can just walk back in?"

His gaze softens, memories of that day flooding back unbidden. The moment he stepped into your hospital room, met your warm eyes and soft smile—only to be the one to shatter it all. He forced himself to watch as the light in your eyes dimmed, the warmth replaced with pain. He owed you that much, at least. For a fleeting moment, regret flickers across his face before vanishing beneath the stoic resolve he’s mastered for so long.

"I didn’t know how to stay and protect you," he admits, the words rougher than you expected, like they’ve been sitting in his chest for a while. His fingers twitch around his glass, betraying his calm façade, but it’s the slight tightening of his jaw that betrays his true emotions. You catch his moment of vulnerability, and you realize how much you’ve missed studying those little, subtle signs. "And I sure as hell don't know how to fix this."

The weight of his words lingers in the air. You didn’t expect him to say that, but it doesn’t change anything. Not really, after all this time.

Your hand brushes his as you reach for your drink. It's quick, almost accidental, but it sends a ripple through you. The faintest shiver runs down your spine—a brief flash of something familiar, something you thought you’d left behind. You hold your breath, fighting the pull to reach for him again, to find some kind of solace in the warmth of a touch you know all too well, yet fear all the same.

His gaze drifts to the booth you once claimed as your own, where laughter still seems to echo like a ghost. For a moment, he’s lost in it, he's sure a part of you both still haunts the seats. His focus snaps back to you, but not before you catch him looking, and feel the weight of why you’ve been avoiding that booth, too.

"Yeah," you mutter, shifting your gaze to avoid his eyes. The ice in your glass rattles with a quiet shake as you try to steady your hands. "Maybe it's your fault for thinking I needed you to protect me."

John’s expression tightens at your words. He takes another drag from his cigar, the ember glowing faintly in the low light. The smoke hangs between you.

His eyes search yours, measuring how far he can push, how much you’ll let him in. You shift in your seat, the weight of the pain dragging you down like a leaking hull.

"Maybe you’re right," he finally says, his gaze falters from your own. "Thought I needed to protect you... I was wrong." His words are slow as if he's testing the waters, trying to see if there's any chance that you’ll let him in again.

A part of you wants to believe him, to believe that he didn’t leave because he wanted to, but the years of silence weigh too heavy. You wonder if it’s too late for any of this.

You aren't sure how to respond. The anger still simmers beneath your skin, but there's something else you can't shake. He’s not the same man who left you all those years ago. Or maybe he is, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes now that wasn’t there before. You see it. You sense it. He's changed, and so have you.

Swallowing hard, you try to keep your emotions in check.. The years of being alone, of picking up the pieces... You won’t let him see that. Not yet, at least.

Tears well up, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall.

"I don’t think I can ever forgive you for what you did," you manage, the words scraping like gravel in your throat.

John looks down at his glass, his shoulders heavy as he swirls the whiskey, staring into it like it holds answers he’ll never find. When he finally takes a sip, the light in his eyes has dimmed, replaced with something harder, something resigned. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t offer excuses.

The silence stretches between you, broken only by the soft hum of the bar. You glance at the booth again, the ghost of a memory flickering there—a quiet laugh, his hand brushing yours, the fleeting hope you’d felt back then.

"But," you say, voice trembling despite your best efforts. You inhale deeply, steadying yourself, clenching your fists as if the words themselves weigh more than you can bear. "I... I’d like to try."

For the first time tonight, you meet his gaze fully, no longer avoiding his eyes, no longer pretending that none of this matters.

You see it then—the faintest flicker of something in his eyes. Not hope, exactly, but something close to it. Nostalgia. A question he doesn’t yet dare to ask.

The tension lingers, heavier now, while the soft blues and whines of an electric guitar drift back into focus. Neither of you moves, neither of you speaks. It feels as though the past itself is watching, waiting to see if its grip on you both can finally loosen.

John leans forward slightly, pressing the stub of his cigar into the ashtray with deliberate care before setting it aside. His shoulders sag just enough to betray the weight he’s been carrying. He lingers there, the silence palpable, before letting out a breath he’s been holding for years.

"I’d like that," he says, his voice almost a whisper.

tags | @fruitymoonbeams-blog

[rosiesmuts]

After Dark

BLACKPINK Rosé  Words: 3,000  Tags: 🍑

Whoever said nothing good happens past 2AM has clearly never met one Park Chaeyoung. An unexpected knock on your door brought upon the greatest present a man could ask for.

"Hello Rosie."

"Fuck you. You know I hate when you call me that." A side eye reserved for only the most despicable is thrown your way.

"Oh I know. Why do you think I keep doing it?"

Rosé sucks her teeth, scoffing in your direction as she pushes you out of the way to invade your living space.

"So why are you here? Didn't you just get back from your tour?" You already knew the answer, but you wanted her to say the words out loud.

"What are you? Some kind of fucking stalker?" She's always the quick witted one, never making it easy with a game of cat and mouse.

"I'm the stalker? I'm not the one who shows up unannounced at people's houses in the middle of the night."

An idol with multiple talents, one of them lesser known to the general public–able to switch from devil to angel in a blink of an eye. She stares you down, her hips swaying side to side as the distance between the two of you dwindles. Your back is against the wall, her tight little body is pressed against yours, her knee raised up right under your crotch to trap you in place. Both hands roam underneath your shirt, her nails harshly digging in as she feels around your chest.

"Oh? You don't want me here? I can take a hint, just tell me to leave and I'll get out of your hair…" 

Her angelic voice didn't match her devilish actions, her fingers nimbly trail down your chest and stomach. She works her left hand into the elastic of your sweatpants–wrapping her delicate fingers around your shaft, squeezing it tightly but refusing to stroke. Her other hand cups your face, you’re left wondering how the situation flipped so quickly.

“So should I leave?” 

Fuck. You shake your head, which brings the divine feeling of her hand methodically pumping away. It's an incredible thing. How a woman so tiny could have you wrapped around the palm of her hand. In an instant, your pants are wrapped around your ankles, she's on her knees, her gaze staring into your soul looking up into your eyes. 

Her soft fingertips gently graze against your balls, her warm breath lingering around the tip of your cock. You're left speechless, completely enamored by the gorgeous face nearly pressed against you. She spits on your cock, using slow agonizing strokes, and repeating this process until it's completely lathered in saliva. 

Rosé continuously teases, little flicks of her tongue gathering up every drop of precum. Her eye contact never breaks, opening up her mouth, merely seconds away from her lips wrapped around. The power of her seductive eyes was too strong, your eyes closed, head leaned back, already imagining the heavenly embrace of her warm mouth.

Your eyes pop wide open. ‘What the fuck?’ Your immediate thought when what was supposed to be immeasurable pleasure is instead met with great pain. She lets out an evil laugh, her grip on your balls ever tightening.

"You think I came all the way here to suck your cock?" She spits on your cock again, this time any sense of seduction gone and replaced with only disgust. Your face contorted in displeasure, the stranglehold of your precious jewels solely left to her whims. 

A groan of frustration as Rosé pops back to her feet, dragging you by the cock into the bedroom. Even in the shroud of darkness, she’s easily able to navigate your quarters, instinctively finding her way onto your bed. 

“Don’t waste my time.”

Her voice could only be described as a cold and emotionless jeer. But that couldn’t take away what was presented right in front of you. A beautiful sight that no words could ever sully: Rosé bent over on all fours, her delectable body just waiting to be taken. 

How easy it would be to go dive right in. But that's exactly what she wants. A little bit of payback was required. She needed to be teased, tested, to be shown who was in charge. 

Simple light kisses on the nape of her neck causes her whole body to tense up with light moans fluttering about. The flimsy fabric separating you from greatness stands no chance, easily torn in half and tossed away, the cost of the designer garment not even in consideration. Your lips trail down covering every surface of her slim back with gentle kisses, reaching your hands around, small sensitive nubs hardening in between two fingers. When you reach the small of her back, there’s a lingering pause for two different reasons:  taking in the visual perfection of her body and to leave her longing for more. 

The second obstacle. Another piece of flimsy fabric standing in your way, but this time you keep them on for one simple reason–they needed to be soaked through with her juices. Through the most frustrating barrier, two fingers gently graze against her outer lips, her moistness already seeping through to coat your fingertips and down her thighs.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask, feeling the warmth radiating off of her. 

She's clearly enjoying it, letting out light moans, but she shakes her head, wagging her butt back and forth.

Every fiber in your being was telling you to stop, to torture her as she did to you just a moment ago. But her cute little ass was simply too irresistible. Too delicious to even think about stopping now, pulling down her panties just enough to expose that cute little ass. 

“Oh my gosh!”

She screams out from just the first light lick–an unexpectedly cute response to this otherwise depraved activity. This was your specialty, the thing that set you apart from all the nobodies who didn’t have Park Chaeyoung bent over in their bed. Rosé moans softly as your tongue explores her innermost depths. Each flick of your tongue soft and gentle, yet sending waves of pleasure through her body. She’s caught under your spell, your tongue like a magic wand, caressing her most intimate and sensitive areas with a skill that leaves her trembling and wanting more.

Every lick and caress sends her further into the abyss of bliss, completely at your mercy and you knew it. Her body tenses as you continue your ministrations–your tongue alternates from circles and figure eights, teasing and tantalizing her in ways like your life depended on it. The plan coming into great fruition, her panties completely soaked through, steady streams of delicious liquid flowing down her legs.

“Feels so good…” she let out, unable to catch her words until it was too late.

“What was that?” you pause, taking great pleasure in seeing Rosé quiver beneath you.

She’s close, it’s painfully obvious, you know her body more than she likes to admit. Her fingers dig into the sheets, tethering on the cusp of release–her heavy moans grow louder and louder as you worship her ass. Her inhibitions melting away with each passing second of your warm tongue tracing circles around her most sensitive hole. But then you remembered how cruel she could be. Her budding orgasm is only met with disappointment when you take your tongue away, gasping out in shock as you rip her panties into pieces, placing your hand firmly across her ass. 

"Tell me what you are Rosie." You command, your voice low, yet authoritative, your hand rubbing her ass with wicked intent. 

Again that name. You knew what response it would invoke, each party fighting for just the slightest edge of control. The look of anger in her eyes tells the whole story, her gaze piercing your soul while looking back at you with vitriol. She knows exactly what you want to hear, but refuses to give in, gritting her teeth as she shakes her head. What comes next is something she hates, yet strangely desires.

A harsh spank sends jolts of electricity through her entire body. The initial feeling of pain is chased by an overwhelming desire to be dominated. The harsh slap of your hand on her ass is followed by another. Then another, her cheeks getting redder with each subsequent spank. 

"Say it Rosie!"

Rosé screams in pain, each harsh spank on her supple ass stripping away her resilience. While she secretly loved this treatment, her tolerance can only go so far; her face is flushed with shame as she forces herself to say the words out loud. 

"I'm your little fuck doll…" it was hard to think a voice that could fill stadiums could also sound so timid.

There's nothing more satisfying than hearing her say those words–knowing that she hated herself for saying it makes it doubly so. Here she was, a world famous idol with literal tens of millions of fans reduced to nothing more than a personal plaything in your hands. She was your toy, your possession, and you could do with her as you pleased. The tension in her torso releases, thinking it was finally over with her admitting defeat.

"I couldn't hear you!" One more swift slap against her ass and she screams out as the shock, pain, and pleasure reverberates from the top of her head all the way down to her toes.

"I'm your little fuck doll!"

"Good girl," you cheekily respond, your hands tenderly soothing the spots where you slapped her skin. For just a brief moment Rosé thought you were actually a decent human being. However that thought is quickly forgotten, your hands spreading apart her cheeks and she remembers what a piece of shit you really are.

"Are you ready for what you came here for?" 

Rosé has no time to respond. She gasps, her head spinning as you push the tip of your cock against her asshole–slowly stretching her out as you push further in. 

And there it was, the confusing satisfaction of pain as you stretched out her tight little hole. The entire reason Rosé loses all logical sense with you. She hated herself for being here, laying in your bed, willing to do whatever you asked. She hated herself for being addicted to you, your cock–her discovery of how good pain can feel has been her downfall.

Yet she still let out low moans, her body betraying her mind, slowly submitting to your every demand. Her ass is tight, perhaps too tight, bordering on the line of it painfully gripping your shaft. Pain is what's part of the fun, taking a fair bit of effort to push in and out, but something that's completely worth it.

But then it gets easier, her tight little hole adjusting, stretching out to take in more and more of your length. Beforelong, her body starts shaking underneath your rough pounding, each thrust harder than the last. Rosé bites her lip, a desperate attempt to contain her moans, but it's an impossible task–the sensation of your thick cock completely filling her up makes her scream out. It becomes a personal mission to hear her honey moans even more. 

Her sensitive nipples harden underneath your touch and just the lightest touch of her clit elicits an immediate response when you graze it with your thumb.

Now stimulated from multiple points, Rosé is quickly becoming undone, the pressure of your thumb increases while it circles her clit, your other hand full on groping either of her tiny tits. Endless moans echo the room with growing frequency–losing any sense of decency with her body succumbing to the pleasure.

"I'm gonna make you squirt all over these fucking sheets."

Rosé shudders at those words, knowing her fate was inevitable. Regretfully enjoying your rough treatment, an impending eruption started to build within her core and she could do nothing to stop it. Like a prophecy coming true, her body tenses up, the euphoric feeling in the pit of her stomach threatens to release at any moment.

Somewhere in between a moan and a scream, she lets out a deafening cry, losing all strength, her arms giving out, her body flopping on the bed. A warm viscous fluid flowing out of her pussy as her orgasm rips through her entire body. She almost starts to feel embarrassed at the amount of fluid that continues to flow out of her, but that feeling is quickly taken over by something else.

A swift slap of her ass snaps her back to reality. 

"Did you just cum all over my bed?"

Rosé nodded, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Now laying in a prone position, her body is on full display: her slim elegant body covered in a thin layer of sweat, legs that never seemed to end, and to top it all off is an ass that was way too shapely to belong to someone so slim. 

Seeing her squirt gives you a much needed second wind. Rosé has no escape from your almost animalistic desire for her body. Chasing after the blonde haired beauty, your thrusts continue with a renewed vigor, her entire body quivering as you fuck her with such force that she practically embeds into the sheets. Her first orgasm still felt throughout her body, she's helpless in your grasp, her face buried in a pillow, a last ditch effort to stifle her moans. 

Hearing her carnal noises was the best part; you tug on her long blonde hair and her beautiful moans once again echo in the air. Her upper body arching back while you continue to pound her ass gives you the perfect opportunity. "Do you ever let anyone else fuck you in the ass?" Your voice practically growls into her ears.

Rosé shakes her head, her brain tortures itself at the unbelievable amount of pleasure coursing through her.

"Use your voice Rosie," you tug at her hair even harder. She shudders in disgust hearing you call her this name, but she's in no position to argue–pushed far past the point of caring. She's been through this before and knows what you want to hear.

"Naur! You're the only one allowed to fuck my ass!" Rosé screams out, her lack of restraint on full display, willing to say or do anything to continue this incredible feeling.

"That's right." An evil laugh escapes, letting go of her long locks to grab two handfuls of hot idol ass–your fingers digging into her flesh as you relentlessly thrust into her.  "That's because this ass belongs to me." 

Seemingly something inside Rosé snapped. Thinking about nothing else besides the thick cock stretching her out to her limits. She looked back, her eyes practically begging. 

"Fuck me harder! Give your little fuck doll everything you've got!"

There were no words that could be more beautiful. Rosé has given up any sense of pride–fully embracing her role as your personal fuck doll. She feels so small in your hands, her entire waist being engulfed in your hands. So delicate and so small, seemingly possible to snap in two at any given moment. And yet here she was, begging you to fuck her even harder. You give her exactly what she asked for, pulling up her hips, her tight pert ass now up in the air. Rosé is the first to act, rocking her hips back and forth, her tight, fleshy paradise threatening to already milk you for everything you're worth.

There was no way you could give up control, holding her hips in place while driving her into the bed. Rosé's given up all sense of restraint, her moans come freely and in abundance. A rough rhythm is found, the exploration of her svelte physique could never truly be satisfied. 

Just when she thought her body was already pushed to its limits, endorphins continue to rush into Rosé’s brain, her asshole filling up with ecstasy as she receives the fucking of her life. She screams out, another orgasm flowing through her–her body writhing and squirmy, her mind a complete mess wracked with a combination of pain and pleasure.

The tightness of her ass increased, seemingly begging to milk you dry. Your thrusting continues even as her ass constricts until you could take no more. Rosé gasps out loud, almost in relief, feeling a new flood of hot cum unloading deep into her ass with every thrust. 

Completely spent, you collapse onto the bed. Your faces now merely inches apart, her beauty actually takes you by surprise as she lays there with lidded eyes and heaving chest trying to catch her breath–her moaning continuing even after you pulled out.

While you were too busy admiring her, the realization of what just transpired has come rushing back to her. The feeling of your cum leaking out of her for the countless time takes over her. She catches you staring and looks at you with her legendary bombastic side eye.

"I really fucking hate you," she says in a low exhausted voice.

You couldn't help but laugh, her cold callous words simply feeding into your ego.

"And yet you just begged me to fuck you in the ass. It's not my fault how much you need this dick." 

Rosé yelps when you give her ass one final slap.

"What, no smartass comeback? You're usually so feisty. It's what I love the most about you."

She lays there feeling dirty and ashamed, wondering how she ended up letting you fuck her yet again. But she also knew you were right, she was addicted and would come crawling back for more

A/N: Hi

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Angel - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers?

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Reader is enhanced, has wings and has powers connected to electricity.

Chapter Summary: Clint and Nat discover what's happened to you.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of sexual assault and attempted rape.

Clint’s the first to find you.

You’re sitting in the ditch your knees to your chest, head down and your wings wrapped around you.

“I have her, slow approach.”

He slowly knelt down in front of you, keeping a two metre distance. He had never seen your wings so dark, as black as they were now. You’d told him early on in your friendship that they changed colour with your moods. The darker, the worse the mood. He’d only seen them pure white a couple of times and it was always around his kids or laughing with Nat and Laura on the porch at the farm. But right now, they were as dark as night, like Lucifer himself had given them to you.

“Y/N? Sweetie it’s me. It’s Clint. Can you let me see you?”

Your wings dipped ever so slightly and your tear filled eyes looked back at him. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what had happened. Even his beta nose could pick up the stink of the alpha on you and he knew that scent. If he didn’t kill the alpha responsible, Romanoff definitely would. Clint knew what he had to ask you and he hated having to ask, knowing he really already knew the answer, but protocol was protocol and he knew at least a dozen agents that practically worshipped you and would bring in the piece of shit, to save him and Romanoff the trouble. They’d get you settled and then have him delivered to them. Wanda would want in on this and he was sure Wade owed you a favour. Yeah that would do it but now he needs you out of this ditch.

“Y/N? Do you require a female senior officer for debrief?”

You nodded weakly in reply.

Purposeful footsteps made themselves known and you saw Natasha’s silhouette appear from the darkness, the sparse street lights being all to light the ditch.

“Angel?”

The smell and look in your eyes hit Natasha like a freight train and she knew right then she was putting some red in her ledger. She tried her best to keep the growl muffled in her chest as she pulled out a pair of medical gloves from her pocket, as Clint mimicked her actions.

“Bruce call Hill, direct line, tell her we need her on a video call immediately. AR and SA suspected. Debrief required.” Clint requested over comms as he and Natasha slowly reached out to you, their hands outstretched. You placed a hand in one each of theirs and they slowly lifted you up, both noticing how your face contorted with pain.

“We’ve got you.” spoke Clint softly as he slipped an arm around your waist, “this OK?”

You let out a shuddered breath and nodded. Nat mimicked Clint’s actions, pushing down her inner alpha’s rage. Both supported you keeping the smallest of gaps between you so not to contaminate your suit too much and damage the evidence you were covered in.

The light breeze generated from F.R.I.D.A.Y bringing around the jet blew your hair back and Clint got a clearer view of your face, and could see a clear the mark where you’d been struck. Bruce appeared on the already lowered ramp and you noticed he was also wearing gloves and a disposable apron.

“Hills online and everything is set up.”

As you entered the jet you became aware of what Bruce meant and saw a projection of a live video call from Deputy Director Hill, a stern look on her face. A plastic sheet was laid in front of the screen, and on it laid a clear bag, swabs, scissors and nail clippers. You stepped on the sheet and Hill pushed down a growl, trying to hide it as a clearing of her throat as she saw the state you were in.

“Agent, please confirm your identity.”

You signed back.

AFH 27, code name Angel

“I’m going to need verbal communication if possible Agent.”

You gesture at your throat, getting frustrated when you realised you weren’t being clear.

“I don’t think she can.” Bruce replied for you, noticing the bruising making its way up your neck. He placed a tablet in front of you, the internal state of your vocal calls displayed.

There was a muttered Jesus Christ from Hill.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y give her a full body scan for injuries, fluids and any other evidence.”

“Agent, tell me what happened.”

TAGLIST

@hnnhbananananana