#you're not dead but in ways i know you wish you were

[wiltedflowerpetals]

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John Price is a lot of things. A soldier. A leader. The captain of Task Force 141. And, of course, (Y/N) Price's husband. They are so much in love, in fact, that after a year of dating, John asked her to marry him. But even lovers have secrets... Because John's lovely wife wasn't just a sweet wife with a boring office job. No. She was a killer. A hitman. One of the best...

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It's my first cod fic... I hope it's good. Thank you for reading and I wish you all a great day! x3

Words: 2259

Warning: fluff, a bit angsty

You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow as you entered the quiet sanctuary of your home. You placed your weapons carefully in your hidden compartment beneath the floorboards of the closet, where John would never think to look. It was almost laughable, really. Your husband, John Price, a man who had dedicated his life to fighting criminals, had no idea that his wife was one of those killers.

You closed the closet door and took a deep breath. This was your life, your choice, long before you even met John. He didn't need to know about your job. All he needed to know was that you were here, waiting for him, just like you always were. You took another deep breath and needed to switch gears, to become the version of yourself that he knew and loved.

After you took a shower and put on some comfy clothes, you decided to cook your husband’s favorite food. You moved around the kitchen, preparing it as the aroma of simmering stew filled the air.

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. A text from Kate Laswell. A good friend of yours.

You smiled before swiping the screen to answer the call.

“(Y/N).” Kate greeted you. She sounded professional, as always, but with a bit of warmth.

“Kate.” You replied. “How did it go?”

“Smoothly. The target is dead, and our friend is safe for now. You did a good job out there.”

“Thanks.” You said, leaning against the counter, watching the stew. “What’s next?”

“Next?” You heard her chuckle. “Next, I’m coming over.”

You raised your eyebrow, stirring the pot. “You're sure about this, Kate?”

“What, afraid to see me in broad daylight?” You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, John invited me. He’s been telling me for ages about how good your cooking is. How could I refuse?”

You sighed. “I’m a great cook… But, Kate, you know how important it is that John doesn’t find out about… you know.”

“I know.” Kate reassured you. “I won’t say a word. He has no idea we know each other, and it’ll stay that way.” Silence filled the conversation. “But he’s bound to find out. You have to talk to him one day.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I know and I will do it… One day. It’s just… I don’t want him getting involved in my shit. If he knew what I really do…”

“I understand…” Kate said softly. “And I promise, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You sighed and rolled your eyes as the line went dead before you could say more. You placed the phone back on the counter.

“You could have said bye, Kate.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your husband; it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of him being in danger. You’d lied to him for years, all to protect him. And so far, it had worked.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

The front door opened. John was home. You turned, wiping your hands on a towel as he entered the kitchen, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey, love.” He greeted, his voice gruff but full of affection.

“John.” You smiled, walking over to him. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. The scent of sweat, gunpowder, cigars and earth clung to him, a reminder of the world he lived in, the world you knew perfectly well…

“Missed you.” He murmured against your neck.

“I missed you too.” You replied, your voice soft. You kind of did. Can you miss someone that you see so often? Even when your husband went on missions, you were there, watching his back and saving his life more times than you could count.

You always went there to safe him. For Kate and for yourself.

You pulled back, giving him a soft kiss on his dry lips. He was safe. That was all that mattered.

“You’re just in time for dinner.”

John watched you with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“Someone has to.” You teased, setting the plates on the table. “Sit down. I’ll get everything.”

He obeyed. You placed a steaming plate in front of him and joined him at the table. You two ate in comfortable silence.

John leaned back in his chair, looking at you with a satisfied grin. "You’ve outdone yourself, love."

“I’m glad you liked it.” You replied, gathering the dishes. He grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“Leave it.” He said. “I’ll do it later.”

You smiled, but shook your head. “Let me help then.” John offered, but you shook your head again.

“No, you go take a shower. I’ve got this.”

He didn’t need much convincing. “Alright, but only because you insist.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, before you watched him head towards the bathroom.

The next day arrived too quickly…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You woke up early and ready to prepare breakfast. John was still asleep, his arm draped over your side of the bed, the peaceful expression on his face making your heart ache with affection.

You moved quietly, not wanting to wake him just yet. He needed his rest, especially after the mission he’d just returned from. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped it slowly, savoring the moment.

As you finished up, John stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, love.” He mumbled, reaching for you. You stepped into his embrace, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Morning.” You replied, your voice soft. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Smells amazing.” he said, pulling back to look at you.

You two sat on the table, eating your delicious food as John intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Soo…” John started, as you finished your food.

“Soo?” You glanced at him, squeezing his hand.

“A friend of mine wanted to visit us. You, know the friend I’ve mentioned a couple of times? Kate?” You nod your head, feeling a slight twinge of anxiety in your stomach. “Yeah, she will come… Is it okay? Or should I call her back and-“

You shook your head. “No, no, honey. It’s okay. She can come.” Despite her promise, there was still a small part of your that worried, that he will find out about your job.

John smiled at your, happy that you were fine with it and finally could meet his friend.

And due to your nervosity, you start to cook early on for dinner. For the time Kate will come into your home. You prayed and hoped that everything will work out…

John noticed your nervosity, of course. He always did. “You’re fussing too much.” He teased as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you.

“I’m not fussing.” You rolled your eyes, but could hear the tension in your own voice. “I just want everything to be perfect…”

“It will be.” John assured you, moving to wrap his arms around you from behind. “Kate’s going to love you. She’s always been curious about the woman who managed to snag me.”

You laughed, though the sound was a bit strained. John kissed the side of your neck, his beard scratching gently against your skin. “Don’t worry, love.”

The doorbell rang and you felt your heart leap into your throat. This was it…

John released you, heading for the door. “That’ll be Kate.” He said.

You quickly wiped your hands on a towel, trying to steady your breathing as you followed him. When the door swung open, there stood Kate Laswell, dressed casually but with her usual air of quiet authority.

“Kate, good to see you.” John greeted warmly.

“Good to see you too, John.” Kate replied with a smile, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You stepped forward, a perfectly practiced look of curiosity and friendliness on her face. It was time to act. Something that you always had to do during your missions. Acting or more likely… lying…

“You must be Kate. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“And you must be (Y/N).” Kate responded. “John wasn’t exaggerating when he said you’re beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes at the false pleasantries, but at least your friend had some fun. This was the game you two had to play after all. “Thank you. Come in, please.”

As Kate stepped inside, John closed the door behind her, looking pleased. He had no idea that the two women had known each other for a long time already.

They moved to the dining room, where you had already set the table. The conversation flowed easily, John and Kate reminiscing about old missions, with you chiming in here and there, careful to keep up the facade of being just a supportive wife with no real connection to their deadly world.

As they ate, John kept looking between the two women. “It’s funny.” He remarked. “I’ve always thought you two would get along great. Glad to see I was right.”

You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “Well, Kate’s easy to get along with.” You said, but kept your eyes rather on John than on her.

Kate returned the smile, her expression giving nothing away. “And I can see why John speaks so highly of you, (Y/N). You’ve got a real knack for this - hosting, cooking… you’re a natural.”

“… Thank you.” You replied, you were counting down the minutes until this tense dinner was over.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and laughter, with John completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between the two women. As far as he knew, it was just a pleasant evening with his wife and a close friend.

When it was finally time for Kate to leave, John walked her to the door, thanking her again for coming. You followed, staying a step behind, happy that the day has finally ended.

“Thanks for having me.” Kate said warmly, giving you a meaningful look as she shook your hand. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“I would love to.” You replied, your voice steady despite of all the emotions you were feeling right now. “It was lovely meeting you.”

With that, Kate left, and you closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, eyes closed as you let out a slow breath.

John came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “See? Told you it’d be fine.”

You leaned into his embrace. “You were right.” You admitted, turning in his arms to face him. “It was nice and went better than I thought.”

John smiled down at you. “You did great, love. I knew Kate would like you. But then again, what's not to like?”

You chuckled. “You give me too much credit. But I’m glad she came over. It was… good to finally meet her.”

He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “You know, I think she’ll become a good friend of yours. She’s got a lot of interesting stories, and I’m sure you two have more in common than you think.”

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile on your lips. “Yeah… maybe.”

John’s smile softened as he looked at you. “Are you alright? You seem… distracted.”

You hesitated, your heart skipping a beat. He was always so perceptive. But you couldn’t tell him the truth… Not now, not ever. So, you did what you had done countless times before. You lied… Again.

“Just tired.” You said, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “It’s been a long day.”

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back. “I understand. It’s been a lot. Why don’t we call it a night? You need your rest.”

You nodded, feeling now tired from this day. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You locked up the house and headed upstairs. As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help but glance at John, wondering what would happen if he ever found out the truth. How would he react? Would he be angry, hurt, betrayed?

Once you two were in bed, John pulled you close, his arm wrapped protectively over you. He kissed your temple, whispering a soft “Goodnight, love.” before closing his eyes.

You lay there in the darkness, your eyes wide open as you stared at the ceiling. The evening had gone as well as it could have, but the anxiety was still there. Kate’s visit had been a stark reminder of your real life. Your real job.

You turned slightly to watch John sleep; his face peaceful in the light. He had no idea how many times you’d been there, watching over him from the shadows during his missions, making sure he and his team got out alive. You were always just out of sight, never letting anyone know where you were. It was your way of protecting him.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up.

But for now, John was safe. He was home, with you, and that was all that mattered.

You reached out, brushing a hand over his cheek, feeling the rough stubble under your fingers. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, just leaned into her touch.

“I love you.” You whispered.

It was both a vow and a plea. A promise to keep him safe, and a silent wish that he’d never have to find out the lengths you’d gone to do so.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the arms of your husband.

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[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Read the Kaladin Chapters

As requested by anon. :)

I once did a post about Stormlight Archive characters reading the Stormlight Archive, which you can find here. This post is similar, except characters are only reading the Kaladin chapters.

(But if you're wondering WHERE Hesina & Lirin are, there're in the first post!)

[Stormlight Spoilers through Rhythm of War!]

1. Adolin

Adolin: So, uh, you and Shallan sure...had a time in those chasms, huh? Kaladin: W-We HAD to huddle together for warmth and stuff! Adolin: [eyes narrowing] Uh-huh. Kaladin: Are you mad? Adolin: Of course I'm mad! Adolin: We've been on TONS of adventures and you've NEVER cuddled ME for warmth! Kaladin: ... Kaladin: That's what you're mad about? Adolin: We are cuddling at the FIRST opportunity we get!

2. Shallan

Shallan: I know that you killed my brother. Shallan: But READING about you killing my brother... Shallan: That was a uniquely horrible experience. Kaladin: I-I had to though. He was killing everyone. Shallan (much too brightly): Oh I know! It's not like I haven't killed my own family members! Shallan: Just saying that if I could still successfully suppress memories, I'd be burying that one! [finger guns] Kaladin: ...This post is giving me whiplash.

3. Elhokar

Elhokar: Um, okay. Wow. Elhokar: So multiple of my guards--including Kaladin Stormin' Stormblessed--really did want to kill me! Elhokar: I was SUCH a bad king that even KALADIN STORMBLESSED wanted to kill me! Elhokar: I'd fall over dead if I hadn't already been MURDERED. Kaladin: I did save you, though. Kaladin: ...The first time, anyway. Kaladin: That has to count for something? Elhokar: Yes, and I was invested enough to see you completely lose it after my actual death so... Elhokar: Let bygones be bygones and all of that. Elhokar: But REALLY. Elhokar: So bad at kinging that even KALADIN STORMBLESSED was in the "kill him" party! Elhokar: Not good for my self-esteem, man. Elhokar: Not good.

4. Bridge 4

Teft: So, lad...that Honor Chasm scene, huh? Sigzil: We knew we were all miserable and angry; we did not know you came so close. Moash: Yeah, you idiot! That was the closest you ever came to dying--by your own hand! Probably the only way you COULD die! Lopen: And it would have meant you didn't meet me, the Lopen! That would have been a tragedy on top of a tragedy! Rock: And no stews either! Skar: What we're trying to say is that we're glad Syl stopped you. Drehy: Yeah. You saved all of us. Kaladin: Guys... Rlain: But also...maybe consider some of that therapy you invented. Lyn: Yeah, for real.

5. Thaidakar

Thaidakar: I should definitely recruit this guy for the Ghostbloods. Thaidakar: Always survives... Never gives up... Collects followers wherever he goes... Thaidakar: This guy could DOUBLE recruitment! Thaidakar: I just need a way to make the Ghostbloods seem honorable...

6. Taravangian

Taravangian: Wow, in a different life, you would have been in Kharbranth, studying medicine. Taravangian: Working at my hosptial. Taravangian: Where I killed people in the basement. Taravangian: ... Taravangian: Very glad that didn't happen.

7. Syl

Syl: I was there, of course. But getting to read it made my realize something... Syl: I literally saved you SO MANY times! Syl: Without me, you never would have made it! Syl: Like, repeatedly! Kaladin: It's true. I needed you. Syl: You may address me as "Syl, my lifesaving savior" forever now. Kaladin: I'm not doing that!

8. Dalinar

Dalinar: You never told me the full story. Kaladin: About what, sir? Dalinar: About how my sending Roshone to a "place where he couldn't do any harm" meant sending him to your actual hometown where he tormented your family and sent your brother to the army where he died. Kaladin: Seemed better not to bring it up. Dalinar: I wish that you had. Kaladin: ... Kaladin: I am surprised that this is your takeaway. Not the fact that I, you know, nearly killed your nephew... Dalinar: You did not kill him. You saved him. Dalinar: If we weighed your almost crimes against my actual crimes, there would be no comparison. I am not one to judge someone else's journey. Kaladin: ... Kaladin: This is where we're supposed to add in some humorous joke to end our dialogue, I think. Dalinar: I don't think that's going to happen. Kaladin: No, I guess not.

[waywardchaos3]

Satoru Gojo Kiss Prompt: Back From The Dead

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Prompt(s): “You came back./…” “I promised, didn't I?” + Returned From The Dead Kiss

Rating: Angst with some Fluff

Warning(s): This story contains some manga spoilers, but since I have not read the JJK manga or seen s2 at the moment, it's not totally accurate... I just hope you all enjoy it as this story isn't super specific to the prompts but it's the same idea, yeah?

WC: 1,926

Main Masterlist

A/N - This is yet another story of mine that was inspired by a fic written by another amazing writer here on Tumblr! It was inspired by this fic by the amazing @just-jordie-things!

*I will definitely have to make another story like this that is more based on the events of the manga and the anime when I get the chance too, so stay tuned for that!*

It had been weeks since your long-time boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, had been sealed in that damn box.

The world around you fell into chaos in a matter of minutes since word had got out that the great Satoru Gojo was in the prison realm.

Curses and Curse users seemed to crawl out of the shadows and the depths of hell itself to celebrate his removal from this plane.

Every day there's a new challenge just to keep up with exorcising all of the curses that came out of hiding.

There aren't many jujutsu sorcerers left...

So many have decided to or were forced to retire...

So many have died...

With that being said, there are only a few of you left who can fight this fight.

You included, even though you'd instead go straight after Geto for doing this to Satoru and putting you and so many others through this.

Not only do you have to deal with your desire to go after Geto and fight against curse users and powerful cursed spirits, but you also have to deal with the weight of fear you're carrying, not knowing of his well-being.

Is he even still alive in there?

You hope so...

You've also wondered if he's okay or if he's hurt so many at this point...

You know that time works differently in the prison realm, but that's all you know about it.

The box was supposed to be a rare object, but Suguru Geto had somehow found it and used it with such ease to seal Gojo inside.

Will he ever return?

You don't know for sure, but you hope that if you and the others can get your hands on the box and find a way to unseal him, your hope would be restored.

Thinking about Satoru and Geto being the one who had sealed him away as much as you have been ever since he was sealed into the box causes your mind to be occupied with anxiety for you to patrol the area you were asked to properly.

Your teeth grit together roughly as the thought of Geto being the one behind Satoru being sealed away in that box, your eyes currently focused on a rather rowdy group of teenagers messing around on the other side of the street near an alleyway, distracted.

Your feelings about Geto, who had once been a very close friend of yours, have always complicated, especially after he had reportedly killed his family and went on to slaughter hundreds of non-sorcerers...

You've struggled so much with the way you miss him, too.

No matter what he seems to do or what heinous acts he commits, some nights, you still cry yourself to sleep because you wish that things could go back to the way they were.

On most of those nights, Satoru sat awake with you, comforting you as you wept and reminisced about the good old days when you, Satoru, Shoko, and Geto were friends and would hang out and also go on missions together.

Satoru had spent hours combing his fingers through your hair, cooing softly about how he missed those days, too.

And now that you're here, Satoru is sealed away, and Geto is to blame; it's as though all of your feelings have become crystal clear.

You HATE Suguru Geto!

You hate who he's become.

You hate that he let himself take such a dark path.

You hate that he betrayed you, Satoru, Shoko, and jujutsu sorcerers everywhere.

Right now, though, you mostly hate him for what he did to Satoru.

When it comes to Satoru, though... you love Satoru Gojo.

You had known him since the two of you were very young children. You became close friends with him, which stayed that way until you got into high school when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

You had been dating ever since.

And even with Satoru sealed away, you love everything about him.

Not sensing any cursed spirits or cursed energy in general, you huff, deeming the area safe for now before starting your trek back to the apartment.

Walking home, you think about how long you've tried to remain positive.

For your students.

For the other sorcerers.

Being the closest to Satoru, you know that you have to put on a brave face and ensure everyone that hope is not entirely lost, that at the end of the day, everything will be okay, and good will triumph because that's how it's supposed to be.

You are feeling hopeless, though, and you've been carrying those feelings since that day in Shibuya when Itadori told you that Satoru had been sealed away.

You remember every second of your short interaction with him that day.

His wide eyes, his shaky voice, the way he had asked you what that meant, and then the look he had given you as he looked to you for guidance on how to help with the situation.

In response, you had sent him off rather quickly to help at the bus station, but truthfully, you just needed him gone so he couldn't see your entire foundation crumbling.

And then came the deaths of your friends... your students... and people you had fought alongside your whole life...; they all began piling up, and you couldn't help but feel hopeless...

What else was there to feel, though?

The man whose mere existence was supposed to put all of this at ease was gone, and now, with how long he's been sealed away, you're starting to think he'll never come back.

Cold raindrops hit your face just as you reach your apartment building.

You consider yourself lucky to have made it to your apartment building before the storm started, but the weight of your anguish squashes such positive emotion.

It's only a matter of time before you're killed too, you think bitterly, more irritated by the notion than afraid.

You know that you're getting reckless, as many of the others who are still fighting the fight have told you.

You're running on little to no sleep... Barely eating anything, which means your energy is always low.

In fact, the last few curses you'd had to exorcize were low enough in grade that you considered yourself lucky, but you knew that if you were to run into a grade one- or a special grade- you'd be lucky if your death is quick and painless.

"What am I going to do?" you mutter to no one and nothing in particular as you dig in your pocket for your keys, ready to enter the building and just go to bed and sleep—or at least try to.

As you're about to enter the building, you realize that the rain seems to have stopped, as you no longer feel the chilly wet drops hitting your skin.

'I could've sworn that the skies were overcast just a minute ago,' you ponder before tilting your head back to look up at the night sky.

Sure enough, the stars aren't visible, and the sprinkle had turned into a full-on downpour.

Even though you're now paying attention to the storm, hearing the distant rumbles of thunder, curiously, you remain dry.

You're not under an awning, and you don't have an umbrella, so you're not sure what's causing this phenomenon.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you stretch your hand out in front of you, reaching as far as you can, and to your surprise, you remain dry.

"What the hell?" you mumble as you look down at the pavement around you.

You can see a clear line before you, where the raindrops are pelting the pavement just in front of your feet.

You've seen and witnessed many weird things in your life as a jujutsu sorcerer, but this has to be the most peculiar thing you have ever seen.

You do a slow 360° turn, and just as you thought, the pavement underneath you is dry.

That's when you notice something strange when you turn away from your apartment building's door.

The dry patch of pavement stretches out another ten or so feet and clings around another figure.

As you look up at the figure, the air gets knocked out of your lungs as you see the familiar head of white hair, causing you to sputter for a second as tears sting your eyes.

"Satoru." you whimper out before running towards him at full speed.

As you reach him, you crash into him, clearly knocking the air out of him.

After stumbling back a few steps from the impact, his strong arms wrap around you, and he's holding you tightly against his chest.

"Oh my god... Satoru..." you gasp out as you cling to him tightly, with your arms around his neck and your legs wrapping around his hips to keep yourself in place, your hands getting lost in his pure white hair as you have your face buried in the crook of his neck.

"I know, sweetheart... I know..." he breathes gently against your neck as his own hands are lost in your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he'd damn near forgotten.

When you finally pull away from him, it's only for a moment, just long enough to see Satoru's pretty face, seeing that it's unharmed, which fills you with relief before your hands grab the collar of his t-shirt as you tug him against you so fast that your lips slam together.

This kiss is messy, your teeth clashing with his, both of you panting so hard that it's challenging to kiss properly, but you don't care about that one bit.

Just a minute ago, you were so sure you'd never seen him again, but now that he's here with you, you'll take any scrap of closeness you can get.

He has one arm wrapped under your legs to help support you, while the other tangles in your hair, pulling you back while he gasps for breath.

You let go, gasping for breath. "Oh my god, you're here, you're real, you-you're alive..." you whimper as you press your forehead against his, your hands cupping his face. "You came back...”

“I'm alive." he nods against your forehead, his lips brushing yours again.

"I promised, didn't I?"

That's right. Itadori mentioned that before he was sealed in the box completely, Satoru had told Itadori to tell you that he promised to return to you, no matter what and no matter how long it took.

"I'm here; I'm home," he says before giving you a long, deep kiss.

He lets go a few moments later, and you look him straight in the eyes.

"I thought-" you choke on your burning throat. "I thought you were gone, I thought- I thought I'd never see you again..."

You're tearing up again, the weight of your emotions confusing you, but you still muster a smile as you look at him. "I thought I lost you..."

"Oh, baby," he sighs, setting you down on your feet so that he can wipe your tears away. You didn't lose me; I'm right here." He assures you, and you nod, leaning into the warmth of his palm. And I'm not going anywhere, never again, okay?"

You nod back at him, shutting your eyes as you relish in the comfort of his presence.

Now that he's back with you, you can finally get your life back on track and end what's been happening with Sukuna and Geto.

Right now, though, all you want to do is stay wrapped up in his embrace, which is what you will do.

[ivystoryweaver]

Day 24: Danger (Poe Dameron)

Angstember Prompt Post || Word Count: 750

Notes: This is the prompt for day 24 but it's day 26. Still wanted to finish it tho. Fear, mentions of death and dying, hurt/comfort-ish. Poe is afraid he's lost you.

Terror stabbed his thundering heart as dread mounted with every step. The First Order attacked and Commander Poe Dameron raced into action, frantically calling for you over comms.

Fingers trembled as he pulled and yanked his flight suit into place, running full speed as he ordered his droid not to wait for him.

He rounded the corner to the hangar when blistering heat surrounded him as a powerful, concussive force knocked him back.

Although disoriented and partially deafened, Poe struggled to clamber to his feet, but fresh terror reared up within him, choking him as Finn rushed to his side.

Despite his best friend's inquiries, every thought, every emotion - the fear, the war, the whole galaxy narrowed like a laser down to one, most important thing.

You.

"She's in there," Poe croaked, eyes wild and frightened as the realization took hold, weakening every limb.

His bones seemed to liquify as the blast doors closed, sealing you and all your commrades in an inevitable fiery death.

"No," he choked out, crawling forward with his arms, even as Finn tried to pull him back.

Blood frozen in his veins, Poe stretched out his hand, trying to explain. "She's in there. She's trapped in there!"

"It's too late!" Finn jerked him up by his flight vest. "I'm sorry. Come on, it's not safe here."

The fear and the heat and the force of the blast throbbed inside him, suffocating him. He was stricken and lifeless, unable to force his insolent body to respond appropriately to the danger surrounding him.

"Please...she's in there..." He rasped out before everything went black.

Poe floated in an endless dark sky full of stars. Debris drifted all around him and war raged in the distance.

He thought fleetingly, that he must be dead. Either that, or he was blasted out of his X-wing and was now dying in the sky - the death of a warrior. Probably the death he deserved, even craved. A life given in the service of freedom. Like all the rebels and Resistance fighters before him.

Like you.

His gut clenched with anguish at the thought of this war extinguishing your light from the universe. Then a sliver of hope danced through his heart at the thought of somehow seeing you again.

As if he wished himself into your presence, his ears, no longer ringing with the deafening blast's effects, picked up on the sound of your sweet voice.

Calling his name.

'Where are you?' Words he felt deep and limitless in his very soul, as if the most raw, real part of him stretched out to find you, even here.

"Poe."

He felt you then, soft hand on his cheek, leaning so close he could feel your breath ghost his lips.

"I saw your eyes open. I know you can hear me."

Wherever you were, that's where he needed to be. The night sky illuminated itself and dissolved somehow, into a blinding overhead light.

"There you are. Poe? Come back to me, baby, please."

Nothing had ever sounded so compelling, so enchanting. Struggling to open his eyes fully, he clawed his way out of darkened space and into the brightness of your countenance.

"Hey," you tearfully whispered, raking your fingers through his curls as one tear dropped onto his cheek.

"Found you," he murmured, throat parched with thirst.

"Yeah, that's right, you found me," you tenderly encouraged. "Thought I lost you for a bit."

His eyes fluttered closed again, but peacefully, rather than distressed. "At least we're together."

"Of course we're together." You frowned, confused. "Hey, stay with me. Don't go. Don't you dare leave me!"

Forcing his eyes open, he lazily smiled. "You look good."

Gasping out a laugh, you struggled to understand. "I look what? You're crazy."

His eyes darted around him as he eased into full consciousness. "Where are we?"

"Med bay. You almost got incinerated. The blast in the hangar knocked you into a wall. You've got a nasty concussion." Sniffling, you granted him a weak smile. "But you'll live."

Realization seeped into the contours of his handsome face, making his lip tremble and his eyes leak with fresh tears. "You're here? I thought you were - "

"I know, Finn told me," you softly reassured him. "I wasn't in my ship. Not yet."

"You're here," he gasped, relief surging though his frayed nerves and battered body. "You're here."

Gingerly climbing into bed beside him, you pressed your cheek over his beating heart. "That's right. We're here. We're okay."

Angstember Masterlist || Poe Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[binhourly]

Sanctuary

Summary: A princess bound between an indefinite pull of duty and forbidden love.

Word Count: 4107

Tags: Royalty Setting / Forbidden Love / Lightest Political Intrigue / Love Triangle / Angst / Unrequited Love.

Pairing: Royal Guard!Lee Minho x Princess!Reader

Trigger Warning: Discussion of Forced Marriage / Mild Sexual Content, Implied Intimacy / Foreseeable Infidelity / Manhandling / Self-Harm Ideation.

Songs: i. Once Upon a December by Liz Callaway ii. Skin to Skin by Amira Elfeky

NOTE: welcome! i’m still figuring out the ropes and ends of tumblr so i’m not the best at handling this website, please be patient or lend me a helping hand. with that, enjoy and leave some feedback!

MINHO STANDS in his uniform on the opposite side of the Garden Sanctuary, a level of strict authority still etched in the bends of his spine despite being far away from the court ball.

He observes you with such fine quality, each trace a long drag of a sharp knife against every curve of your skin. Usually, his training makes him skilled enough to go unnoticed, but it's as though the moon itself betrays him, hanging fatly in the sky, its reflection coming down and sitting on the rippling surface of the fountain's water, crystallising back in the royal guard's eyes.

Despite knowing the boy for so long, you occasionally forget that his constant watchful eye is simply part of his duties—a fact that remains unchanged.

Your face grows hot regardless.

"Many people seem to think me foolish for believing the world could change enough to grant me a choice in who I love," your voice is low, like it's far too ashamed to ask the question in his company. "Do you think of me in that light?"

The boy moves further inside, black boots pressing into the cherry blossom petals that continue to swirl down around him. "Perhaps," he finally speaks, his voice incredibly close now.

You sneer up at him in annoyance. He doesn't seem moved at all by the obvious tremble in your voice. "Then I'll hold you in the same way I think about everyone else: a dead, soulless, ugly being." Your words go against all sensible thinking. It's as if the torture that comes from his willingness to forget the history between you makes you lean into childish remarks.

Minho still peers over you with a tight pull to his back, never allowing one strand of his long hair to fall out of place. "And am I to believe those images you've conjured up of me are true, Princess?" There are pieces of a smug grin found in his eyes, a strange sense of pride that these emotions you harbour for him are strong enough that you've turned irritable. Albeit his stoic attitude, this is also him giving sound to his fiery jealousy after the sudden marriage proposal in the banquet hall.

"How dare you call me that!" you gasp, nails digging into your thigh. The year hasn't fully completed yet since Minho was appointed to your father's high council. Even after the weighted armour was added to his muscular body, and his presence at revels is no longer by your side drinking away the night, but to watch over your family, you still hold no doubt that he'll ever divert from the boy you love.

"Is that not what you are?" Oh, how wrong you were.

"Yes..." Your eyes gloss over with tears, but this time you mean for him to see all your suffering. "I am the kingdom's princess, but I only become one to you when you wish me away."

There's an almost fierce glimmer in your stare, a silent proclamation that you've tried and exhausted yourself from acting out this contrived narrative that was roped in your hands by the newly appointed royal guard in the first place. You're done keeping quiet for the sake of your family. You want some semi-balance of peace, not to hold all of the war that comes each time Minho stalls near the entrance of the palace to guide you into a carriage, his gloved hands holding onto yours.

The royal guard finally crouches down, kneeling on one leg, the sheathed sword by his belt jutting out behind him. "That's not far from the truth." Minho does not allow the domineering nature of his face to change despite being a mere inch away from you.

A couple of months ago, the lining of his eyes and lips would have struggled under the weight of your gaze and softened immediately at the sight of you beckoning him over.

You've become the jester to your own memories.

     "It is precisely why I am here, to offer my deepest apologies, Princess. I was so young," he says, voice quieter now, as if he's speaking more to himself than to you. "We were both so young, weren't we? Free in a way I never understood at the time. I let myself believe in things I had no right to, and I pulled you into those beliefs... I mislead you." There's something effortlessly elegant in the way you sit on the dirt ground, your gown spilled out around you in sparkling blankets of purple. Minho looks away, but he cannot, for the life of him, train that idea out of his head and thinks he'll forever live inside the torment of his own hypocrisy.

     "But we've grown, and that entails more responsibilities—duties that need to be fulfilled."

Minho looks down, undoing his crossed arms behind his back and exposing a pair of pointed shoes in his hands—you hadn't even noticed he was carrying anything this whole time. Being swayed by raging emotions makes anyone irreversibly selfish and tardy, especially when sprinting away with a dress clutched to your chest. The boy gently pulls at your ankle, allowing the material to rub against your heel.

     "Your loyalty should not go to me. I am one man against a nation that needs you, my Princess." Your brows furrow at his response. At the name. Recognising that Minho is soothing the blow of the truth by doing something sweet.

In a silent outburst, you shake your legs in his hands, kicking the material off your feet again.

"Go! I want you gone. Now!" Against the serenity of the Garden Sanctuary, your yells are the driving knife to a portrait painting, the chirping sounds of roaming critters nowhere to be heard. Just the continuous echo of your words each time the royal guard tries to capture your springing ankles before they hit him in the face.

It lasts for a few minutes before he successfully takes you by surprise and locks them closer to his body, the position having you open and perfectly snug around him. With that, you learn just how in control Minho has always been. It makes you feel a little giddy having successfully coaxed it out of him.

You breathe heavily. "I order you." Instant dread coils in your stomach at the sudden use of authority.

Something lively swims in Minho's eyes. It rips into the clouded fragments that have settled there for some time, allowing a piece of him to peek through. You almost want to riot against anyone who claims the royal guard was ever ruthless and arrogant. Maybe he was.

"I take my orders from the King." His eyes slit back into their vacant stare.

After many months of feeling him watch you—in your place at your throne while he guards the door, when you slink back into your chambers and can't help but wince at the burning residue on your backside—you can no longer foretell his actions or what he's thinking.

His hand has perched further up your ankle, the expensive fabric of your gown bunching up, showcasing it rests warmly on your bare knee now. The placement doesn't seem to reach Minho, but it's contributed densely to why you can't keep a steady flow of air pushing past your lips. "And do I have the pleasure to blame my father for your little crusade to find me?"

"No, that one is my own hanging." His voice drags, each word affixed to a thought he won't fully admit. One image in particular clings to him—the sight of you, tear-streaked and marked by the King's hand after disobeying him—owns him completely, every part of his being bound to the memory.

Quickly, he composes himself, slowly standing up, letting his hands grip the sheath of the sword, his knuckles splayed white from the sheer force of erasing the image out of his head.

"I might've become someone you deem dead and soulless, but I thought it was best to end the night with the dance you were promised. I'm a firm believer that you can still reclaim something lost. But again, it's your choice whether you want to accept it from this ugly man."

Softness rewrites the chided look on your face. Embarrassingly enough, it took no more than a minute before you agreed to it. It wasn't even a small nod. You followed him up like you were always linked to him, a shadow to a body. And perhaps that was the whole point of this strange bond—constantly accepting offers that were already his.

Minho pulls you in closer by pressing his palm into your lower back, surprising you greatly when he bends slightly, wrapping his whole arm around your torso, fingers giving your heart the same suction a corset would, before gently lifting you off the rubbled floor, the end of your dress, crumpled and stained, swinging against your ankles.

You stare at him in wonder, the moonlight failing to pale his skin. "You know, I do have legs. Quite capable ones, at that." There's a hint of amusement in your words.

His eyes flutter over the expanse of your face, the dim lighting darkening his stare into perfect black pearls. "Yes, you're right. I was given a taste of that power when I tried giving back your shoes and nearly got kicked in the face for my sincerity." Minho leans in a fraction closer, his voice dropping lower. "Still, it's part of my duty to protect the royal family, and I extend that same oath to stubborn twigs or insects."

The royal guard leads you, swearing each pull around the garden was a secret dance that awoke ash-filled ancestors, all in tune with each other. It feels so ethereal and otherworldly, like a kaleidoscope of colourful ball gowns around the gushing fountain.

"And you? What would you do if I said you've become my greatest torture? How would you protect your princess then?"

Minho pauses, the statement crashing into him like a tidal wave. "Even in your torment... so long as you think about me, I've already done my part."

The confession catches you off guard, half-expecting the royal guard to respond curtly, the same way he dismisses you by naming you by your status. But his hunger for you was just as devouring, has always been secretly consuming. So, you allow it to swallow you whole—in the same darkness that eats mostly at your heart.

"Princess?"

The sudden urgency of your name being called in the distance diminishes the magical glow, and the idea of being caught, arm interlocked with someone other than the awaiting King, makes the frantic glances over your shoulder near the tall arch opening turn jittery, fear running deep into the small passage of yourself that believed—begrudgingly—in the role your father had carved for you.

"You need to hide," you whisper hurriedly, crawling out of his grasp. The royal guard remains in a trance, his two brown eyes drinking in every detail of your face, committing it to memory. He only snaps out of it at your frantic prodding and pushing. "Minho! Take cover behind that statue there."

After quietly ensuring that no part of him is visible to any witness, you reposition yourself, sitting on the cool stone of the fountain rather than draping yourself across the floor. All parts of your previous sadness feel inconsequential now that Minho has lowered his guard and danced with you. Now, you wait.

The arch has intricate carvings of flowers—honeysuckles, red carnations, and white lilies—all woven within the stringy pieces of the vines. It doesn't look wild, as though it gradually grew and found its home around the arch. These flowers are carefully plucked and placed, constantly attended to, ensuring every beautiful piece of the garden is enhanced. When Prince Hyunjin waltzes through and hesitates by the open gateway, you swear his long red hair could set them ablaze, orange flames haloing above him.

Hyunjin is completely unaware of the full-bodied man hiding in plain sight.

"I found you." The boy wears a small smile, uncertainty weighing down each corner. Hyunjin expects you to yell. "I understand I'm not welcome, but I want to—I don't think what your father did was in good grace, and I beg for a chance to properly introduce myself. It could help ease the nerves and the surprise a bit."

"I know who you are; that should save us this conversation." There's no interest in your eyes. His words, no matter how gentle, could never penetrate your heart. They don't make you feel anything.

Hyunjin continues regardless, his hands ruffling the ends of his blouse that tie in lovely bows. "Then not an introduction, but a moment. Although this is a marriage of convenience, I'm not a selfish fool to deny you the chance for organic love, and I won't force your hand either."

You've heard stories about this prince. The most infamous one was when he disguised himself as a civil servant. It was said that he was hired as the village healer's apprentice after rumours spread about the boy's miraculous access to expensive medicine. After months of suspicion and a tragic arrest, it was revealed that he'd been stealing from the palace's cabinets and distributing the medicine for free. Hyunjin is undoubtedly the sweetest soul, so your hatred towards him only willed you to want to be alone so you could continue under false pretences.

There's a certain stillness. You're waiting in the breaks of silence, searching for any sign that Minho is still there, watching.

Hyunjin sits beside you on the stone, avoiding your gaze. "I'll make sure no one speaks against you for taking your time. With enough power, I can also silence your father." Hyunjin shows no distaste for his sensitivity, no trace of second-hand embarrassment crossing his features. He means every word he says.

"Would you like to see what I bought you?" At a simple nod, Hyunjin pulls out something blindingly gold in the midst of the dark night, a vibrant fire emblem in the middle of it. The conclusion that it was a hair accessory only came when the prince politely asked if he could do the honour of fixing it into your locks.

"What you're wearing is a sacred piece from my lineage," he speaks, breaths away from your face, the feeling of his hand heavy above the crown of your head. "It's traditional to wear it at important ceremonies to welcome harmony and good fortune. My parents were hoping to see it on me at my own coronation, but I think it's only fitting for you to wear it at our wedding." Hyunjin reclines back, watching you with keen eagerness, disregarding the idea that you only crossed paths through allyship and Kingdom honour. "Going into unfamiliar grounds could be easier if you had a constant token of hope."

Curious and flustered, you peer down into the still puddle of water inside the fountain. Your reflection greets you among the fallen petals immediately, hair pulled up halfway with pieces cascading down around a face so undoubtedly... royal.

The awaiting king deeply sighs. "You torment me with your beauty, Princess."

The sentiment around the hair accessory has turned you attentive to what you've constantly ignored.

Hyunjin notices the change. It felt like you were scrying the black pool, face entranced and eyes wet, looking for something he can't quite put his finger on. It was like your whole future was constellated, and you were desperately trying to read between the stars, hoping just maybe a meteor shower would smudge the already promised destiny.

You were a princess birthed with a written story, similar to how being birthed from a warrior father already gave Minho the necessity to grow into a warrior son. That he never needed to learn devotion, that it came to him instinctively, like a person finding a lone drum and knowing to slap it to make a roaring sound.

Minho was who he was. And yet, the royal guard entwines his fingers around the leather hilt of his sword behind the statue, his mind so far drawn with a splitting anger that cleaved and reconstructed his sworn oath to protect the kingdom that he was ready to use it against the awaiting king.

SILENT MURMURS are being passed around behind your bedroom door. It wasn't what originally brought you out of your sleep on this quiet night, the scheduled wedding tomorrow morning attributing greatly to that, but it was the one thing louder than your anxious breathing.

The guard assigned to your care, Kim Seungmin, seems to greet the incoming person with more authority, which could only mean the unknown person was of higher rank than the other guard.

The two don't let you ponder for too long as the suspect's name is spoken all too soon. "Commander Lee, what are you doing in this wing?" Minho.

Fleeing the comfort of your bed, you flatten the side of your head against the door, eavesdropping on their conversation.

     "The King ordered closer surveillance in the awaiting Queen's room." His voice is low, smooth—but the words send a cold chill down your spine. You knew better than to take Minho's words at face value. He had always been skilled at hiding his true intentions behind a mask of loyalty, a master of keeping secrets tucked beneath the surface.

Seungmin's reply comes quickly. "There must be a mistake—"

     "Is there?" Judging from the slight edge to his controlled question, Minho wasn't searching for confirmation. It was a chilling assertion, daring Seungmin to challenge him.

     "No... of course not, Commander. I'm just respectfully asking why I wasn't told this before my shift."

A moment of silence lingered. "You seem to misunderstand your position." A soft, deliberate step echos, and then another, until a dark shadow slithers beneath the door, alarming too close to the other. You could only imagine how terrifying he must have looked—teeth grounded, jaw clenched. "Courtesy is not required here, only the demand for your obedience. If there's new orders it's in your best interest to follow without concerning yourself with the specifics. Do I make myself clear?"

     "Without questions, Commander."

     "I will stand guard here, post yourself below her window."

The hurried, precise shuffling beyond the door could only be from Seungmin, surmising that he was carrying out his Commander's orders. With the guard now gone, nothing stood between you and Minho. He would come inside at any moment—his authority granting him the right to cross the threshold.

In panic, you quickly push off the door and move to the middle of the room, watching the door creak open slowly.

Minho stands at the outer shell of the doorway, his uniform barely hiding the rise and fall of his chest. You could only assume it was the aftermath of watching you in the full glory of your sleepless state. The commander says nothing, but his eyes quickly trail up, catching the way your hair piles and pins perfectly on your head with a gold embellishment.

Shame instantly hits you. The whole night had been such a daze that you had forgotten to remove it by the time you entered your room. But it was too late; Minho's stare had already hardened, and the urge to tear it off felt fruitless.

     "What are you doing here?" you ask, the tone of your voice never really sounding as surprised as you'd hoped. Minho can practically sense the way your eyes glitter at his presence.

The commander's attention is fractioned. He knows he should answer you, even though there isn't a well-crafted one, but Minho chooses to let his eyes wander, following the way his gaze lowers, drinking in every detail of you. From the way your collarbones sit to the sheer nightgown lazily draped over your shoulders, leaving nothing to shield your body from the intensity of his stare. But you don't move to grab your robe, because you think he deserves to see you like this—completely open to him.

Minho abruptly walks into the comfort of your room, his steps unsteady, as if the space around you collapses, leaving only the unspoken truth that even when you were children, he had never reached further than the foot of your stairs.

It's almost maddening when he kneels in front of you, and you can't help but feel skeptical as you note how his eyes look almost cleansed from the service of the palace. Then, by some strange force of nature, Minho unsheathes his sword, allowing the steel to rest placidly in his open palms as he offers it to you.

     "What is this?" you ask, and perhaps out of frustration—or perhaps because he knows there's never enough time alone with you—Minho forces the sword into your hand. The new weight alarms you as the tip clinks against the floor.

     "Minho, speak! You're scaring me to my wits' end."

He grips the tip of the blade hard enough that it should tear into his skin, but his eyes—sharp, unwavering—never flinch, revealing no trace of pain. With deliberate slowness, he aligns the blade to his shoulder, adjusting it a few times when Minho senses your hesitation.

     "Your father will handpick a group of guards for your protection," he finally speaks, his voice steady but distant. "They will follow you to the new kingdom and serve you as I've done these past months."

His stare briefly flicks to meet yours, but quickly returns downward, focused on the task at hand. "I will be among them," he continues, a hint of desperation buried beneath his rigid composure. "But due to my inexperience, I will not be chosen unless you personally vouch for me."

The words feel rehearsed, as if he's reciting a script, unable to show the full depth of the vulnerability you so desperately wish for. Even now, his plea for you to choose him is masked in formality.

     "I—I can't. Minho, my father... he's a force of nature—"

     "And soon you'll be a woman. A wife. A queen. He would be a fool not to listen to you."

His tone is unshaken, a surge of power stirring you to your core. Then, he tilts his head, baring the curve of his neck to the sharpness of his own blade.

     "For you, it would not take an ambush to end me," he says, the words carrying the familiar weight of the boy you've always known. Minho lifts the sword again, allowing it to touch the other side of his neck, the cold steel grazing his skin like a self-made vow, knighting himself with a warrior's solemnity. "Only with your permission."

You feel the truth in the way he kneels now. You know that the only love a commander understands is forged in war. Never gentle—always a violent and sacrificial offering, trusting you with the one thing he's never entrusted to anyone—his vulnerability, hidden beneath armour.

In a flash, the sword is discarded on the floor where your knees meet the cold stone. You throw an arm around him, pulling the only man that has ever mattered into your embrace, because Minho would never dare to make the first move.

Your silk gown, which was gifted by your mother to wear on your first night with Hyunjin, crumbles and gathers above your waist as a result of Minho positioning himself between your legs. His fingers burn your skin as they trail down to haul your knees closer to him, tenderly palming your lower half in slow but aggravating movements. You consider the proximity isn't close enough, that you need more than his chest pressed flat against yours, and think that if there were a way to bring him closer, you would steal it in a heartbeat.

Minho weaves his hands into your hair, bunching a fistful with a sharp tug to the side, eliciting a lewd sound that slips past your lips. He meets the sound with a stare that's nothing short of sinful, a smile playing on his lips more wicked than anything you've ever seen—like a portrait of Hades himself. He leans in, his mouth washing over your neck with open-mouthed kisses, working the plushness of his lips and tongue to distract you from the sudden, violent yank as he rips the gold accessory from your hair—the one gifted by the prince he so clearly despises—and hurls it to the side, as though ridding you of everything poisonous.

[allthesmutl0vers]

Hi! I have a request if you accept.

George and the reader have been dating (sort of secretly) for a while now. The reader is someone who falls outside the typical, generic Slytherin image. She is kind and calm (well, mostly). Until some of her rude bully friends started messing with George, his family and this 'blood traitor' thing about the Weasley name. This is a definite turning point. The reader definitely proves to everyone that she is truly a Slytherin. She shows her scary and cruel side to those who deserve it. From now on, no one will mess with the ones she loves, she can do anything for the guy she loves. Possessive and protective. George's jaw drops... and after all this they may need to find some privacy.

Oo! I love this idea!!😃 Thank you so much for sending it to me 💗Let me see what I can do. Sorry this took me a day to get to, love.

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 🫶

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,959

Summary: Nobody in Slytherin could ever imagine being caught dead with someone from another house, let alone from Gryffindor. Nobody but you, at least. You've always kept to yourself, especially when it comes to your relationship with a certain Weasley twin. Everyone, including even your friends, wonders how you ended up in Slytherin. When those same friends go too far with their deplorable insults, you decide to show them exactly why you were sorted into Slytherin.

TW: Bullying, Name calling, Violence, Smut (P! in V! -You're on birth control), Oral (F! Receiving), Praise, Possessive!George, Protective!George, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Breeding adjacent?- Not sure about this last tw, lmk in the comments if that's what it is.

Song Inspo: Click here (River: Bishop Briggs)

"I'm just saying, this school has gone to the dogs," Pansy huffs. "I mean, seriously, how could Dumbledore think having a werewolf as a professor is a good idea?"

"It was last year, Pansy. Get over it," I mutter as I try to focus on my book. She's nice enough, but I swear to Merlin, she can never just sit in silence. And when she can't think of anything to talk about, she somehow finds a way to talk shit about someone else.

"Didn't peg you for a half-breed sympathizer," pansy quips, leaning back on her hands as we sit in the courtyard.

I roll my eyes, cursing myself for saying anything at all. Because now I'm sucked into a conversation I never wanted to be a part of. "I could say the same thing to you. Isn't your family currently harboring Greyback?" I ask with a raised brow over my book.

"Hush up about that, will you?" Pansy asks as she looks around the courtyard in a panic. "Nobody is supposed to know."

I do my best to ignore her, trying to go back to my book. But when I see George Weasley come into the courtyard with his twins and a band of Gryffindors, and a mix of the other two houses, I can't pull my eyes away.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket. It lights up like a sparkler, and he begins to toss it back and forth with Fred while the others around them 'oo' and 'ahh.' Probably the Whiz-Bangs he was telling me about in our last little rendezvous in the room of requirement, a new invention that they've been working on. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, biting the corner of his lower lip as he catches it again.

I smile back, wishing more than anything that I could just go up and be with him publicly. George has mentioned wanting to go public with our relationship, but being a Slytherin princess makes it a little more than difficult.

Going back generations, all of my family has been sorted into Slytherin. And although my parents are a little more progressive than most Slytherin alumni, they've made it clear how they feel about me dating outside of my house.

"Ugh, look them over there. Tossing around that garbage," Pansy huffs, annoyed.

Before I can say anything, she's already up and walking over with Daphne Greengrass. Shit. I stand up, too, and walk behind them as we approach the small circle that has started to form around Fred and George. "Hey!" Pansy shouts, shoving her way through.

Fred and George look between me and Pansy with confused looks and a knot of nerves forms deep in my stomach. "What do you want, Parkinson?" Fred bites back.

"Surprised you managed to slither your way out of the dungeon," George adds with a smirk.

Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. "How dare you talk to me like that," she spits at them with a venom-laced tone. "I'm just shocked you managed to actually make something. Aren't you failing nearly everything? What's up? Weasley's can't afford a tutor?" She quips.

My fists clench at my sides. It's not fair to blame the children for parents not making more money. Especially when they're the kindest people in the world. I watch George's jaw tick with annoyance. "Better than sucking dick to get a good grade. Or were you on your knees in front of Snape for another reason?" George fires back.

I purse my lips to keep myself from smiling. Nobody is supposed to know that except for me, but the look on Pansy's face makes it well worth telling George about.

Pansy's face turns bright red as everyone around us gasps and starts whispering among themselves. "Shut up," she seethes with anger. She turns to me, and I see her nostrils flare. She knows I had to be the one who told him. "How fucking dare you?" She spits at me. "You promised not to tell anyone. And you tell that filthy fucking blood traitor?!" She practically screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I look over at George, who is already drawing his wand. I shake my head softly before turning back to Pansy. "Actually, he just guessed. You just outed yourself," I quip, taking a step closer to her. "And don't fucking talk about him like that," I snap at her.

"You're defending him?!" She gasps, pointing to George. "You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Have some fucking class," she says with disgust. "Talking with blood traitors," she shakes her head. "What would your parents say?"

Everyone around us falls silent. I've never talked this much. Most of these people have probably never heard me talk at all. "You're one to talk about class, Parkinson," I step closer to her. "Your family is so fucking inbred it's a miracle you're even able to write your name."

Pansy begins to shake with anger as she draws her wand, and I draw mine, too, holding it at my side. "You disgust me. The fact you can call yourself a Slytherin with that filthy mud-blood of a mother is beyond me," she snaps. "And defending a blood traitor to top it off?" She scoffs with disgust.

I grip my wand tight. "Say blood traitor one more time, and I'll remind you just how much of a Slytherin I am."

Pansy clenches her jaw before she opens her mouth. "Blood-"

"Flipendo!" I flick my wand, throwing Pansy back five feet and making her land on her ass. Everyone laughs, including Fred and George.

Pansy stands up in a hurry, brushing off her skit as she aims her wand at me. "Locomotor Wibbly!" she flicks her wand at me, casting the jelly-legs jinx.

George steps in front of me, dodging the jinx with a wave of his wand. "That's enough!" He yells, making everyone fall silent again. Fred and George don't yell in anger, so it catches everyone, myself included by surprise.

"I got it, Georgie," I say without looking at him as I move to stand in front of him. "Levicorpus!" I jinx Pansy, holding her up in the air by her ankles with a dangle of my wand. She screams, frantically trying to cover herself with her skirt. "Had enough?" I ask her with a bite in my tone.

"Let me down!" She screams as everyone points and laughs at her granny panties. Don't try to jinx someone on laundry day.

"That doesn't sound like an apology," I taunt with a smirk as I turn, waving my wand and Pansy over the fountain, holding her a few inches above the water.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy screams as I feel George put a hand possessively on my waist.

"Don't apologize to me," I taunt, leaning into George's touch. Fuck what anyone says.

Pansy looks at George and Fred, who moves to stand at George's side. "I'm sorry!" She cries with tears falling as she hangs upside down over the fountain.

I smirk and pull my wand back, breaking the invisible rope that holds her upside down and she falls into the fountain with a splash. I walk over to the fountain, leaning over the side. "Don't ever let me hear you say shit about any of them again. Got it?" I spit at her as she drips with water.

Pansy nods without a word, sniffling back her tears. I let out a deep breath and turn to see the large crowd that gathered as I dueled with Pansy. "Show's over," I tell them all as I walk up to George.

"Damn, didn't know you had that in you," Fred jokes, running a hand through his red hair.

I huff a laugh. "You know what they say about the quiet ones," I smirk. "I couldn't let her stand there and talk shit about you guys or your family," I tell them both before turning to look up at George. "Let alone my boyfriend," I say softly, admitting what we are aloud for the first time.

George smiles wide and pulls me into his chest. "Finally ready to admit it, huh?" He chuckles, the vibration of it reverberating against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Maybe," I shrug and smile looking up into his eyes.

George bites his lip and leans down to my ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down my spine as he speaks softly in my ear. "As much as I would love to show you off right now, I need you."

My thighs clench at his words as he pulls back to look into my eyes. "Room of requirement?" I tease.

"That or I take you right here, show everyone who you belong to. But better decide quick, angel."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Room of requirement it is."

George leads me through the castle with his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and for the first time, I don't mind giving people a glimpse into my personal life. All of the whispers about George Weasley being with a Slytherin girl roll right off of my back. They don't matter. All that matters right now is getting to where we're going and George blowing my back out.

The door to the room of requirement opens and we walk inside to see the usual lay it that it knows we need.

A bed along the wall, with the silkiest sheets I have ever felt in my life, a small bathroom to clean up in, and a table with a chair. Not really sex up for sex. It appears to be for a student who needs their own room for the night. But it's perfect for what we need it for.

George kisses me as he walks me backward to the bed. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up by my thighs without missing a beat. George lays me back on the bed, my head landing on the pillow as he kneels between my thighs.

I moan as George kisses down my jaw, trailing kisses to the sweet spot behind my ear and down my neck, nipping and sucking the tender skin as the blood beneath his lips rushes through my veins.

George props himself up with one arm as his free hand slides up my thigh, gripping it tightly right at the apex. "I've waited so long to make you mine," he groans as my hands work to unbutton his pants between us.

"I was already yours," I breathe as I get his pants undone.

George's fingers slide my panties to the side as he runs his fingers through my folds, landing on my clit and eliciting a moan to leave my lips. "But now everyone knows you belong to me," he moans softly as I pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and pump it in my hand.

"My parents are going to lose their fucking minds," I moan when he inserts two fingers inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

George smirks and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. "Then you can stay with me and mine," he says like a promise. "Let them lose it, I'll be your shield."

I flip us over so I'm straddling his hips, grinding myself down on him. "Careful, Georgie. Or else I might start to think you're in love with me," I tease as I unbutton my shirt and toss it aside.

George sits up, his chest flush with mine as I straddle him. He reaches around me, kissing my chest as he removes my bra. "Would that be such a bad thing, angel?" George teases as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to suck, nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth.

My head falls back as my fingers run through his hair, pulling him back, and he releases my nipple with a 'pop.' "Only if you don't mean it," I moan softly.

George groans with pleasure. He removes the rest of our clothes with a flick of his wand and impales me on his hard, waiting cock, making me gasp loudly. "Does it feel like I mean it?" He growls, his hand wrapping around to the back of my hair and pulling my head back.

I lift myself up and thrust back down on him, taking him deep inside of me. "Fuck, yes," I moan.

George grips my hip with a bruising force as he works me on top of him. "Then say it. Say you love me," he demands in a husky voice.

"I love you," I moan as he releases his grip on my hair just enough for me to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I love you, George."

George moans as his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me down with him as he lays back and thrusts his hips into mine. "God, I love you, too," he moans. "Such a good girl for me," he groans as his free hand lands on my ass with a hard smack.

I gasp and moan as the sting slowly melts into pleasure, and he does it again. "Yes, George," I pant as he thrusts up into me with a brutal pace.

George flips us, removing his cock from me and diving between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders, and he holds my hips down, and his tongue lands on my clit. "Fuck!" I cry out as my hands grip his hair. "George!"

George uses his fingers to hold my folds apart, opening me up more for him, lapping at my clit with his whole tongue, and shaking his head, threatening to send me right over the edge. My legs clamp around his face, and he moans right onto my clit, adding vibration to top everything else off. The overstimulation is too much, and my fingers tug at his hair, desperate to be free and also not wanting him to stop what he's doing.

"G-G-George!" I cry out with a whimper as my legs start to shake around his head. "Please!"

George grips my thighs from underneath and pushes them up to my chest. "Don't interrupt my meal," he warns me with a dark gaze. "Now keep those fucking legs up."

I hold the metal bedframe above my head with a white-knuckled grip, and George keeps my legs pushed up to my chest. "You wanna cum, angel?" George teases me as he flicks my clit with an annoying soft touch with his tongue.

"Yes, George, please," I beg helplessly as my back arches.

"Then do it. Cum on my face like the good girl you are for me," he taunts before his tongue laps at my clit again. His words and his tongue send me over the edge. My toes curl, and my back and neck arch so far I'm scared they'll break, but I can't bring myself to care if they do.

After George rides me through my orgasm, he leans over me, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts into me harshly. "Fuck!" I moan loudly as he leans down to nip at my neck.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside of you," he moans as he holds my thighs. "Think you can cum for me again, angel?"

I shake my head. "I- I can't," I moan pathetically, already feeling another one build. I grips his wrists as his hands hold my thighs up to my chest.

"Mm, I think you can," he teases. He knows I can. He does this every time. It's a game to us, I tell him I can't cum again, and he drags another one out of me. He punctuates with another hard thrust, and I swear I can feel him in my guts with the angle he's fucking me. "Hands on the bedframe," he demands.

I reach above my head, gripping the metal bedframe again. "Such a good girl for me," George moans as he pulls my legs up to rest on his shoulders and leans down, forcing me to take him deeper. "Want me to fill you up, angel?" He teases.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" I moan loudly as he fucks me hard.

"Beg for it," George says sternly, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace.

I whimper underneath him, keeping my hands above my head. "Please, Georgie. Please fill me with your cum," I beg pathetically, the way he can make me.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg," George moans as his thrusts quicken again, slamming into me harder.

The tether inside of me begins to fray, ready to snap once again. "George, I'm gonna cum again," I pant with a moan as my eyes roll back.

One of George's hands grips the back of my neck. "Me too, angel. Eyes up, baby," he demands as his thrusts begin to stagger.

My hands leave the bedframe, gripping his arms as he thrusts into me again, and our orgasms hit at the same time. The room a symphony of moans, pants, and a mix of each other's names. Once we ride out our highs, George lays down next to me on the bed, letting out a heavy breath as he pulls me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the last class of the day, and fuck whatever consequences that come from us not being careful as we snuck in here together.

And a big 'fuck you' to my parents if they have anything negative to say when they hear about my relationship. They can get fucked, because I know I will be.

[yuenthevoices]

Okay so I haven't seen Transformers One yet (just had midterms) but honestly from the bits i've seen of it - from movie clips on tiktok to some of the hilarious promo stuff they have Bee do - i'm ABSOLUTELY in love with it. some of my favorite stuff i've seen are the little, more niche details i don't see enough of that really show how much care has actually been put into the movie. don't worry, no spoilers for the actual movie - mostly about official promo clips and such.

for example, i saw a bit of an interview where it's said the animation team all grew up with transformers, and were even fighting to animate their favs. there was also another interview i saw where someone - i believe a story boarder/director - seemed genuinely pretty sad that they couldn't do the Megatron gladiator and Orion Pax archivist backstories because it would make the movie too long. like, there is just so much genuine love for the franchise that makes the movie so good and so interesting its crazy like ahduaogeuaisahe

alright alright so enough of my rant i know some of y'all are here for the x reader stuff soooo here's some TF One headcanons! also do keep in mind that this is from my very limited knowledge of the movie characters so prob oc? if they were to somehow meet humans

B-127 (Badassatron)

first off, he's such a silly guy and so adhd coded

but honestly, as a human, be just a bit careful around him, seeing as he accidentally knife-handed quite a few people, and some on purpose

he'd either be as clumsy as he is with his friends that he built, or would literally be too scared to get within touching distance of a human

if you want to get closer to him, honestly just listen to him - with some small input here and there to show you're listening - and he'd want to hang around you a lot more

really, just be nice, don't baby him, and let him yap as much as he wants - bonus points if you sometimes yap to him as well, i'm sure he'd be a great listening, with a lot of input from him, of course

Elita One

honestly, i wish i knew or could tell more about her, but any clips or trailers i've seen her in are pretty limited glimpses into her character

the trait i see the most from these glimpses however, is how she's ambitious and diligent

she'd probably respect you a great deal if you're as ambitious and diligent as she is, and would probably be a bit proud if you compliment her work ethic as well

i think she'd like someone who matches her, aiming for higher goals with the work and strength to prove it - especially since you're a human

bonus points if you can kick ass as well

D-16

similar case to Elita, except i think i have a bit more to go off of, considering how much he shows up in promo trailers and stuff

honestly, kinda hard for me to say?

again, i think he'd appreciate someone similar to him, considering how much time he spends with orion, it'd be a nice change of pace

someone who won't take bs, maybe a teeny bit of malicious compliance, and someone who doesn't try to hide their opinions

considering how mush shit miners seem to take from those who can transform, seeing someone else - especially some smaller, squisher being - being proactive and not taking shit, he'd probably be interested

Orion Pax

ok so only doing orion pax and not optimus prime because in total i've only seen like 3 clips of him as optimus soooo yea

i could see him with a jokester kind of person, but also with a more calm caretaker kind of person as well

being a jokester with him would be fun, and he'd probably have no problem with carrying you around to places for plans

being a calm caretaker would possibly be a little more stressful, but still fun with him nonetheless

either way, he'd still be somewhat careful, keeping in mind that he is much larger and sturdier than humans are

just don't play dead on him please, he'd genuinely freak out and run you over to D-16 and ask him what's wrong (D-16 probably won't find it nearly as funny lol)

[bastardtrait]

and everybody clapped! listen i am not about to write nuance into konner fuckin prescott ok i do not care what happened 2 this mid ass bitch. this was wish fulfilment for me ONLY literally bye.

transcript:

KONNER: I'll fuckin' be. Eddie Whiteduck. You made it. EDDIE/TOBY: ... TOBY: Hi, Konner. KONNER: Toby, my man. Well, what's with the cold shoulder, man? Eddie?

EDDIE: No cold shoulder, Konner. How've you been? KONNER: Wouldn't you like to know? Heh! Well, prison was pretty crazy. I dunno. If I'd been responsible for sending a literal teenager to prison, I'd feel a way about that. Y'know? EDDIE: I wouldn't, actually. Especially if I'd been hate crimed by said literal teenager.

KONNER: ...you ruined my life, Eddie. I want you to know that. I can't leave Copperdale because of you, what with how expensive this goddamn province has become. You, that's your fault. [SFX: Concerned murmuring...] TOBY: Wow. Took no time at all for that mask to slip, eh? EDDIE: I ruined your life, huh? Not you, the one who...was literally charged with assault?

EDDIE: Alright, let me see if this is right, Konner: when we were in high school, you spent so much of it bullying me because you're a racist homophobe. Then, one night, you snap, and you attack me, literally calling me slurs. Then you're expelled. Then you're tried as an adult and go through adult repercussions 'cause guess what: you were. Absolutely none of this had any direct impact from me. All of this sounds like the consequences of your actions. So.

EDDIE: You had thirty years to come up with something to say to me and that's all you got? KONNER: Goddamn you, Eddie. Smug fuckin' piece a shit.

TOBY: Glad to know you're the exact same shitty-ass eighteen-year old kid you were thirty years ago man. Konner Prescott, the spoiled brat who never did anything wrong. Your parents fucked up with your ass. KONNER: They're dead, Toby, you piece of shit, keep their name out of your mouth. TOBY: Uh huh. And here you are, still leaning on them. You're pathetic.

EDDIE: Is this all you came here to do? Insult people at the last place you felt at all relevant? A high school reunion, no less? KONNER: Fuck you. EDDIE: You'd love that, wouldn't you? Get out of my face. You couldn't pick up my dry cleaning.

KONNER, from across the room: KYNZ! We're leaving! Get your damn sandwich and let's go! MCKYNSLEIGH: (sigh) Well...it's been nice, you guys. JAY: (muttering) McKynsleigh...do you need to call someone? KONNER: KYNZ! MCKYNSLEIGH: ...no, Jay. Thanks, but, no.

TOBY: ...are you okay? EDDIE: I...will be. (sigh) Need air. TOBY: Okay. I love you, Eddie. EDDIE: ... (smile) I love you too. I'll be back.

[dovahkiining]

"ghostknife is fine" "make vyncent worse to balance it out" but that's not the point... the point isn't that they'll never recover the point is that despite the fact they will things can never go back to how they were... they will never be those two teens watching bad movies together and cracking fumbly jokes again. the bond they have is something close to unbreakable but it has been reforged into something new. it's about the fact they've swapped moral grounds it's about the fact that william is going into a direction he doesn't want to go in and vyncent doesn't want to follow. it's about passing glances holding something beyond puppy-love and flustering cheeks... come on... like of course they'll come back to this of course they will but nonetheless we can mourn the gentleness of what they used to have

[longagoitwastuesday]

Kusakabe, dear, you're too beautiful to be saying that kind of stuff

[aeolianblues]

I'm not an extrovert. At all. In everyday life, I'm a yapper, sure, but I need someone to first assure me I am okay to yap, so I don't start conversations, even when I really want to join in sometimes! It's just the social anxiety acting up. God knows where from and why I lose a lot of my inhibitions when it comes to talking to people about music. I don't know where the confidence has suddenly sprung from. I've made a crazy amount of friends in musical circles, either just talking to people about common music or (since it is after all in music circles) talking to bands about their own music. I let out a sigh of relief any time an interaction goes well, because in truth it's going against my every instinct. I wish I could do that in everyday life

[frodolives]

1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow

It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...

🧔🏻‍♂️ queerqueg Follow

the franklin expedition is dead as hell

👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow

Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan

10,558 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all

#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh

659 notes

🎨 asherbrowndurand

Just painted this

2 notes

ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927

RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed

🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow

HERITAGE POST

📝 shakespearesforehead Follow

How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol

82,170 notes

🌄 loyalromantic Follow

poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/

#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect

6,884 notes

🎀 thefopdiaries Follow

I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling

📜 bartlebi-thescrivener

i think i hauve consumption

112 notes

🐋 whaler4life

They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME

11 notes

🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow

I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense

#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo

56 notes

🤵🏻‍♂️ byronicherotournament Follow

🙈 butchbronte Follow

Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist

📖 sapphichelenburns Follow

It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep

🙈 butchbronte Follow

I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened

📖 sapphichelenburns Follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily

8,027 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon

#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting

522 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH

#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....

2,309 notes

⭐️ newamerican

Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol

#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure

0 notes

[fadingstrawberrynightmare]

order of writing. below is first. tags second. picture of text from friend and text after it are last.

by anticipating my needs when you thought I was distressed you are continuing to carve a place in my heart

I do think I would be at my best with two. specifically these two.

my friend is right. but do I even have the capacity to employ this in a way that allows me to enjoy you in all of the ways that I want

[wewontbesleeping]

can i say something that will be very controversial in today's swiftie climate? i would love another taylor/ed collab

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere knight who wants you instead of the princess.

Dead dove Do not Eat Tw. For noncon, MDNI, Fem pov

Yandere knight who has been training in the palace for a very long time. It's an honor for a commoner like him to even set foot into the castle walls, so he works earnestly.

Yandere knight who's been catching glimpses of not only the lovely princess throughout the years, but her handmaidens as well. You're a daughter of a somewhat lesser noble house, and therefore you have essentially been given to the royal family until you're eventually married off to another courtier.

But of all the noble ladies, who often ignore him, he finds you to be the most approachable and kind to him and the other squires. He's developed a bit of a crush on you over the years, and he eventually found it in himself to express his feelings. They were innocent and pure then, and he stood there blushing and awkward waiting for you to accept or deny. He would've taken a no from you. Really, he would have.

But then that pompous bitch got in the way.

The princess had you pulled away by her other attendants before you could answer, and she all but sneered at him.

"My maids are not for common rife like you to sully," she spat, a look of disdain carved on her delicate features.

Yandere knight who was deployed to the battlefront soon after. He spent years in misery knowing it was that royal woman's meddling that had both sent him here and stopped him from knowing how you truly felt.

Yandere knight who carved through foe upon foe with the flash of his sword while thinking of you. He would wipe blood from his face and wonder what it would take to have you. He resolves to become so renowned that he could have you and the respect he deserved all those years ago anyways.

Yandere knight who comes back as the hero of the nation. A parade is thrown for him upon his return, and flowers are thrown at his feet by the masses of people. He is awarded a noble title, a duke (impressive), a territory of land to manage, and the blessing to have the hand of any eligible lady in the land from the king.

The implication was for him to go for the princess, sitting there in a gown befitting of an engagement party. She wasn't the heir to the throne, and having a young, impressionable Duke to have and father a potential crown prince or princess was certainly a draw for her to act so sweet and lovely despite her previous attitudes. He had to use all the will in his body to hide his disdainful glare towards her. Instead, he strode up with a near giddy grin, breezed past the waiting royal, and knelt before you.

"[Name], I shall have you as my wife," He says with a beaming smile. You try to protest, but he's already sweeping you into his arms. The king seems surprised by his choice, but as he stares between Yandere Knight, lovestruck and beaming, and you, squirming and utterly shocked, he realizes that he cannot simply go back on his word. The king waves his hand, and your fate is sealed.

Yandere knight feels bad for not giving you a proper wedding. In fact, he feels bad about not taking you to your new home before he's pulling up your skirts. He's a dog, he knows, but you're just so tempting now that you're all his. He shoving you down onto the plush upholstery of the carriage seats, and you let out a startled cry.

Yandere knight who cannot claim he's chivalrous. He wishes he could, but he loves the way your breasts look pushed up so tightly in the laced bodice of yours. He lets out a groan, petting your hair and shushing you as you whimper under his wandering touch. Button after button becomes undone.

"Love, you'll never wear such stifling clothing again. You hear me? All robes and lace from now on. None of this nonsense," He murmurs into your skin. He pulled your corset and chemise from your body, and he pressed fervent kisses to the crook of your neck. He grasps at your breasts, kneading them experimentally. He's had time to experience women on the battlefield. A fling or two in some field on the outskirts of a freshly liberated village. He would think of you the whole time and imagine what he was latching his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple while a random girl cried out underneath him. But this was real. Your warmth beneath his much heavier form was on of the most beautiful feeling he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

He parted your legs, and he could feel you shy away from him. He laughed. As if you had a choice. He knew you would love him eventually, but for now you can't blame him for how ravenous he was as he felt between your shaking, parted legs. He smirked as his lips met yours. His fingers slid against your folds, gathering slick arousal on his digits with a curious hum. He grinds his thumb against your clit as he slowly pushes his way into your warm, spongy walls.

"Oh? Is it good there? Or here? Where, love? You gotta use your words," He teases and licks the tears rolling down your cheeks, peppering your soft skin with kisses. He feels you pulse and stretch around his hand, and he relishes the way your back arches when he curls his fingers just right against that sweet little spot. Desperate noises tumble out of you, and he smiles.

He pulls his fingers out, and you cry out at the sudden sensation. Your chest is heaving with small moans, and your pretty pussy is drooling onto the carriage cushions. He pushes your legs up to your chest for a better grip, and his shudders at the way your twitching feels against the head of his cock.

Yandere knight knows that, as he thrusts into you, he's going to enjoy the luxury of finally having you both under his body and under his control.

[uravichii]

pov: you're drop-dead gorgeous (and they don't know how to deal with it)

character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there's no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕

notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you're so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎‍♀️

bakugo katsuki thinks you're so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he'd watch intently the way you'd smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there's even anything to fix. he'll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), "tell me why you're so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!"

bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he's just mesmerized by the whole thing.

"katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we're gonna be late."

his only response is: "fuck off."

because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. "tch, you don't even need any of this shit."

"you don't like it, katsuki?" you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.

"h-hah?! i didn't say that!" he shoves it to your hand, "now do this glittery shit next!"

and you just ditch whatever plans you'd made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he'll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍‍♀️ he doesn't know how he just let it happen but he's like, "whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n."

he then proceeds to tell you that, "every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness."

"forgive them for what?"

he stares blankly at you. "for breathing the same air as you."

bakugo katsuki's not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.

and of course, he captions it, "u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n."

shinsou hitoshi is convinced he's dating a model. he doesn't know how it happened, but he is a little proud of whatever the hell was in him that managed to rizz you up.

he thinks you look amazing in absolutely anything. so when you go clothes shopping together, he casually picks up all types of clothes from the racks until there's a whole pile of them in his arms.

when you shoot him a questioning look about it, he only says, "think you'll look amazing in these, babe."

he also picks up some accessories and just wears them on youー hats, sunglasses, hair pins, and you just let him because each time you let him accessorize you, he gives those little comments like, "amazing." "cute" "this one's tacky; i put it on you as a joke but you pull it off for some reason." "yes. slayed." he made you wear cat ears one time and he just melts right there, immediately taking a photo of you for his new lockscreen.

it bothers shinsou hitoshi a lot when people stare at you even when they can clearly see his hand on the small of your back. he'll slide closer to you and kiss the top of your head all the while he gives them a death stare he wishes he could do more.

he squeezes your waist a little to call your attention.

"hm? what's up, hitoshi?"

he looks at you blankly, taking in your features in awe as if for the first time again. then he stuffs your face into his chest, your legs staggering as you grab a hold of his forearms.

"hey, what are you doing?" you giggle in his chest. he's relieved you can't see his flushed cheeks. "hitoshiii"

"you're too good for this world, y/n. i need to start gatekeeping you."

what blows shinsou hitoshi's mind the most is how you're probably unaware of your effect on him, no matter how many times he's called you all synonyms of the word, 'beautiful'

he's sat on the couch, a tiny smile of adoration tugging on his lips when he sees you running up to him. your eyes brim with excitement as you call his name, truly the prettiest ones he's ever seen.

"something happened?ー" he pauses when you lean your face so close to his. he sinks back into the couch as the tips of ears start to turn red.

it takes a moment until he realizes that you're showing off the purple eyeshadow you had done on yourself, batting your eyelashes at him as you wait for his response bc right now he's just staring at you like 😦💘‼️‼️‼️

"it's the one you picked out from the mall yesterday. is it pretty?"

"y/n." his hands slowly find their way to your waist, "i don't believe you're real sometimes. you are possibly the most beautiful person i've ever seen."

"really?"

"god," he pulls you by the waist until you're sat on his lap, your legs straddling him. "you have no idea."

remember how bakugo said all those extras should be groveling at your feet and worshipping you? yeah, it's kaminari denki. he worships you.

he thinks you're beautiful and he's LOUD about it.

he's constantly bragging about you to his friends and showing off your photos (if you're comfy w/ that), "oh this? oh yeah, this is is y/n, the coolest, funniest, drop dead gorgeous, most ethereal person on earth and they're dating ME."

and bakugo would just grab his phone and knock it against his head with a thud 🤕, "WE FUCKING GET IT. NOW, SHUT UP, DUMBASS."

he'll rub his head while cackling, "whatever, i'm dating Y/N. who cares about anything if you're dating y/n?"

kaminari denki doesn't love you just for your beauty though. you're not just some eye candy to him. if someone ever called you one though, you bet he's zapping their ass and with the whole bakusquad by his side because somehow they feel obligated to protect you now too. 🧍‍♀️ (denki's effect)

and just as much as he compliments your beauty everyday, he never forgets to let you know how beautiful your heart is too. in fact, he calls you 'angel' because how could someone be this beautiful and be so kind and caring to him at the same time?

"sometimes.." he looks up pensively from his lap where you lay your head, "i feel like i've been blessed by the heavens when i got to date you.

"denkiー"

"don't even think i'm exaggerating, y/n!" he pokes your cheek when you turn your head to look at him, "you're amazing. i don't know what i did for you to give me a chance."

there are times though when a part of kaminari denki feels a little insecure because he thinks he looks quite stupid next to you, and it doesn't help either that the bakusquad never lets him hear the end of it 😔

"denki, you don't look stupid because you're next to me. you do that on your own."

"aww, thank yー hol' up." 🤨

he's pouting but you immediately wipe that off by apologizing and peppering his face with kisses, ending it with a loud smooch on his lips with a "mmmwah!"

kaminari denki now can't remember what you're even apologizing for in the first place.

you and todoroki shouto are so beautiful, the visuals are blinding 😩 you'd walk to your classroom together, him opening the door for you and you smiling at him, lovingly squeezing his arm as a silent 'thank you,' and people just stare with their mouths agape, not knowing who exactly to be jealous of.

shouto definitely stares the most though until it concerns midoriya, "t-todoroki-kun, you haven't moved in three minutes. are you okay?" because he might as well have drawn hearts on his eyes and stab an arrow to his heart with the way he looks at you.

todoroki shouto always kisses your eyes, nose, cheeks, hair, and your lips, of course, just to let you know how beautiful he thinks they are.

he thinks whatever you do or wear is so pretty, hence, the many, many photos of you on his phone. his lockscreen changes every 2 days because everyday he just gets a prettier shot of you, and he always shows them to you and to his friends and siblings ☹️ because everyone, including you, should appreciate what a beauty you are!

"this looks great! you'd make a great photographer, shouto" you lean in to kiss his cheek, immediately sending a flush across his face.

"well..." he looks to the ground, the feeling of your lips still lingering on his right cheek. "that's all you... you're beautiful. i don't know how it has anything to do with me, but thank you."

and then he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to silently ask for another kiss. you laugh softly at this, and when you cup his cheeks in your hands and start planting kisses all over his face the way he does to you, shouto confirms it in his mindー y/n is an angel.

todoroki shouto would get a little overboard with the photos though because he'll spam that button and keep every single one. when you ask why keep the blurry ones, he explains, "that's still a photo of you. why would i delete it?"

he also has a photo of his point of view from when he had his head on your lap. he said he wanted to capture "the happiest moment of his life." you convince yourself it's sweet but it's literally just a photo of your chin in a weird angle.

"shouto, that's just my chin."

he looks at you dead in the eye. "y/n, you have a lovely chin."

you call him a weirdo, which surprises him a little, but then you drape your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all over his face again because who else in the world would say that to you?