#that would be worrisome if he didn't care so little

[nelkcats]

New place, same fight

Danny loves his friends, they have been with him since they were little and they have experienced too many things together, things that have helped them grow, things that only strengthen their friendship. Because Sam and Tucker were everything to him, as he was everything to them.

But at the same time, Danny could admit that he hated his friends; not always, but there were times where they wouldn't stop fighting, where they forced him to choose. The halfa could understand, Sam and Tucker had different world views, they saw different things and occasionally Danny thought they only got along because of him.

That was okay, he learned to live with them, to be the center of their arguments. And when they moved from Amity to Gotham, when they decided to rent an apartment together and go to the same college (which miraculously had all their majors), he thought everything would be fine.

It was idiotic of him. Because at the time he could only see a repeat of what had happened in high school; Sam was having a protest about the cafeteria menu and Tucker had organized the meat lovers (again), and the halfa knew how it was all going to end.

The point is, Danny was tired of repeating the same cycle, a cycle that apparently included Waylon and Poison Ivy fighting in the cafeteria at his new college (and how the hell did his friends manage to get the Rogues of Gotham into their fights?), so when he saw the people in bat suits he exploded.

When Sam and Tucker turned to ask his opinion he shook his head, pointed at Lunch Lady, who had her arms crossed and decided it wasn't his problem before disappear. Literally, no matter if half of Gotham was calling him meta, he was tired.

Red Robin gawked at him before turning his attention to Lunch Lady, who was gathering all the meat around her to form a giant meat monster. And Danny decided it wasn't his problem.

Apparently, Sam and Tucker decided that the bats could take care of it before they looked worried and started looking for Danny. It became obvious that the bats needed help when Danny looked at a giant meat monster two hours later, the halfa arched an eyebrow in dismay, weren't they supposed to be professional heroes? Lunch wasn't even trying...

#dpxdc #Danny loves his friends #but hate their arguments #he thought that they had passed the whole stage of discussions #but apparently not #Danny doesn't even know how Lunch Lady found out about the chaos #maybe she was following him #maybe all the ghosts followed him to gotham #that would be worrisome if he didn't care so little #Danny is no longer a hero and he refuses to go back to that #as much as he refuses to be the center of his friends' discussions #Sam somehow got Ivy and Robin on her side #Tucker settled for having Waylon and Nightwing somehow #dp x dc #dc x dp #Bats had never dealt with ghosts #Lunch Lady far outclassed them #the fact that Robin and Nightwing kept arguing was only a disadvantage #Tim has a feeling that the meta boy could fix everything #but he doesn't know how to find him since he disappeared #the boy's friends also refuse to help until they find him #Lunch is actually having fun #she's not mad she just saw an opportunity and used it

[lovifie]

Her Royal Highness Pt.2

Masterlist

Prologue — Part 1 — Part 2

Three days go by before you open your eyes again.

You are starving and feel like you are swallowing glass.

A look around you lets you know you are in your room, still as always, as if nothing has happened.

But the moment you sit up and let your feet touch the ground, you remember.

And the excruciating pain that radiates from the centre of your torso, makes it hard to think of anything else.

You tried to kill yourself and protect the kingdom, and you failed.

That's how you feel, like a failure. 

And that you let everyone down.

You try to stand up, and the room begins to spin uncontrollably right in front of your eyes.

You sit back down.

Looking around again as the room comes to a stop, you notice a teacup on the nightstand.

You would laugh if it didn't feel like getting stabbed all over again.

But you remember you are alive, and obviously thanks to somebody taking care of you. It wouldn't make sense for them to try to kill you now, but you are not going to risk it.

You stand up again grabbing the headboard to balance yourself.

Slowly, you make your way to the little basin in front of the mirror. The sight that looks back at you is nothing but worrisome. Even though it is dark outside already, you can see the dark circle under your eyes, sickening pale skin and the sweat from the fever you must have experienced in the last days, all pretty visible but still not the most striking thing. 

You are wearing what used to be your favourite nightgown, the silky material thin enough to be see-through, and under it, you can see the bandages. They must have been changed a dozen times, but you can see the blood suppurating through them; most likely from the movement of standing up.

The cold water is refreshing on your skin once you begin to wash your face as if it could help with the way you look. Your hair is another mess, and you brush it with your fingers doing a loose braid on the back to keep it away from your face. 

Once satisfied with the improvement, you put on your slippers and begin to make your way to the Sun Room, assuming that's where everyone must be.

The hall has never seemed so long, each step feeling like running up a mountain and every time you take a breath it pains you.

The combined sensation of the physical constraint of the bandages tight around your body and the asphyxiating pain from the wound makes it impossible to take anything more than a shallow breath.

Trying to stand straight, you take a deep breath slowly, not wanting to mess it up right as you are about to meet them. You were never a great actor, but putting on a brave face is not a big performance; if you can lie to yourself maybe, just maybe, they will buy it too.

The doors make a creaking noise as they open, only adding dramatism to the scene, and you enter the room making eye contact with the not-so-foreign king. 

They all look at you, obviously not expecting you to be walking so soon on your own. When you look into Kyle’s eyes you see a drop of guilt inside them, ashamed of himself for not being faster than you in taking his blade back.

The Prince is also looking at you, for the first time you make eye contact with him, and on that exact second his eyes move going down your body until the source of the blood stains everything it touches.

The nameless knight is also looking at you, with an almost amused expression on his face. You don't even know his name, and still, you feel you will like him the most out of everyone in the room.

Your eyes travel back to the king's face, it is difficult to read it. It feels as if he is not sure himself whether to be relieved that you are alive or disappointed that you come back from the dead ready to jump at his neck.

‘‘Why that face, majesty? You look like you have seen a ghost.’’ You say, even though you know you are in no position to make jokes and expect the king to let you know, but the only thing you hear is a snicker from the knight you still don't know the name of. ‘‘Am I allowed to sit with you to eat?’’

‘‘Please, Princess, it would be a pleasure to eat all together.” He says pointing to the chair opposite him. He is sitting on where your father used to sit. Just now it goes through your mind that you don't know whether your father is still alive or not, deep down you do know, but you are not ready to formulate the question. ‘‘Kyle, serve her a plate, please.’’

‘‘No.’’ You say a bit too quickly to even try and play it out as not being nervous as you try to sit down on the further seat available on the table without breaking eye contact with the king. ‘‘I would like to switch my plate with yours, Your Majesty.’’

‘‘Mine? It is already half eaten.’’ He answers, but still stands up with the plate in his hands and walks up to you.

‘‘I know. I’m sure you cannot blame me for feeling unsure of ingesting something somebody else has not tried already. Really untrusting of me, I know. Must be heredita-’’ A strong grip on the back of your neck makes you shut up. The warm hand far from being reassuring caresses your neck once you are silent.

“Now, now, child. Play nice.” Price whispers close to your ear and stands back up moving his hand to your shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss, really, I am. But you cannot let the pain overtake you. Imagine how I felt when I entered your dad's room, to find him on his last breaths and you laying there, obviously too scared to be on your own and rather ending your life. But don't worry Princess; I promised your dad before he passed that I would take care of you… he even signed the documents that allow me to reign this kingdom until you are ready.”

You were never a great actor, but you still feel like you are being told the history you must perform. Did he really talk to your father? Did your father really trust him this much?

“Now eat. It must already be getting cold. You should really get your own plate, but I’m too tired to fight you on that.” He says letting the plate in front of you and sitting back on his chair. He picks up his pipe from the table lighting it up and giving it a puff before he begins to talk again. “Organising your father's funeral has been a bigger task than I anticipated.”

The confirmation of your dad passing settles on you and it makes your heart ache, you look down at your plate too tired to try and dissimulate your expression. Your cup is empty, and the wine bottle on your left reminds you of how thirsty you are.

The nameless knight notices you staring at the bottle, and picks it up raising it close to your cup. “Ye look like ye could use a drink.” He says, the strong accent catching you by surprise, but moving your glass closer so he can pour it before he regrets it. 

The first glass goes down your throat way too fast to be an alcoholic drink, and after the second one is poured, the king speaks again. 

“Soap, the girl hasn't eaten in almost half a week. Wine on an empty stomach mustn’t be nice.” The king scolds him, finally letting you know his name, oh… well… his nickname. 

“Sorry, Sir.” He says, obviously not sorry, and puts the wine bottle down smiling your way as you take another sip. 

“When is the funeral?” You ask after eating a couple of bites. 

“Tomorrow, it has not been announced yet. The people don't know, we will send a messenger tomorrow at daybreak. The wake will begin at sunrise.” He informs you, looking at you waiting to say something.

But you don't. You nod your head and keep eating slowly, kind of expecting to choke at any given moment. A lot is going on in your head, and you end up thinking about your clothes.

You must wear black clothes, mourning a dead king and a father at the same time. You must look completely desolated, even if you feel numb. 

The same happened at your mother's funeral, not a single tear left your eyes on the whole day; standing next to your father who did the same. Almost as if competing with each other, both stubborn as a mule. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

The wound on your torse pings, as an alarm going off that you cannot eat more without damaging it more, and you put the cutlery down. You stay seated finishing your cup of wine until you look up and realize that they are not talking and it makes you feel like you are intruding on their space. Even though this is your palace, even though Price is sitting on your father's seat, even though it should be them feeling bad. 

“I’ll leave you to finish your meal.” You say taking a breath in to find the strength to stand up again, a warm hand find its way to your lower back and you look up to blue bright eyes.

“Please, let me walk ye back to yer room, Princess” Soap says smiling softly at you, and the wine in your veins and the pain in your stomach, make you agree without another thought.

He lends you his arm and you intertwine yours with him, you say goodnight to everyone else on the table and walk along with Soap back to your room. You notice how he is walking slower than a man his height would walk and you realize he is only doing it so you don't have to walk faster. 

“Yer a wee of a lightweight, Princess.” He says chuckling softly. “Ye just had a cup o’ wine”

“I’m not drunk!” You exclaim suddenly feeling highly offended by his words.

“The tip o’ yer ears are red.” He says unfazed by your anger.

“That’s just the fever.” You say getting your arm free from his and walking faster wanting to get to your room. “Thank you for walking me back, Soap. You can go back now.” You say trying to be as straight as possible, raising your chin a little even though you still need to look up at him for the height difference. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“A’ll see ye tomorrow, Princess.” Soap says smiling and once you enter your room he walks back to the Sun Room.

You barely get any sleep before the maids wake you up and enter the room. They fill the bath with warm water and help you enter removing your clothes and bandages. 

The wound doesn't look as bad as you expected, it was a clean cut and the sutures pulling it together were symmetrical and not that big. A little scar for a big dumb decision. The outside is not what worries you, but the inside. And the fact that there must be an equal scar on your back from where the blade comes through.

After scrubbing the three days' worth of grime off your body, you step up of the bathtub just as Laswell comes into the room.

Kate Laswell is the sage that has been working for your family the longest time, the person you trust the most on the castle and ever since your mother passing, the closest to a maternal figure you have.

“How are you feeling, kid?” She asks, royal formalities ignored and forgotten years ago. 

“As if I have been stabbed in the stomach.” You say drying the skin of your face with a rag.

“Hm, it matched the diagnosis then.” She says smiling stepping closer. “Let me have a look.”

She caresses the skin around the sutures checking the temperature to see if it is infected, moving from the one at the front to the one at the back to check it as well.

“Kate, if I stab myself but I don't die, does it make me weak or strong?” You ask, always keeping the dumbest question for her, knowing just how much it gets under her skin.

She stops looking at the wound and stands up before you. The expression on her face makes it almost worth the whole ordeal.

Almost.

“Stupid, a lucky stupid child. That's what it makes you.” She says sternly but with so much care in her voice you know it's just her way of saying she is glad you are alive. 

She puts the dressing back, promising to talk with you later, and lets you with the maids to get you dressed.

It is your kingdom's custom to wear all-black clothes and to cover as much skin as possible. Lace and delicate fabrics slowly cover your body, gloves, tights, underskirt, a floor-length dress and in request to help you stand straight a corset around your midway keeping your wound in its place and protected.

A black-laced veil covers your head, and though you can see through it, it still hides your face from those who look at you. The last time you needed to put on the mourning clothes, your father refused to let them put in on you, arguing that it was too lugubrious for a child. 

The person in the mirror doesn't look like a princess, it looks like a shadow. Like the ones you see on the corners of your eyes when you turn too fast, the ones kids would be terrified to see.

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

Tired of looking at yourself in the mirror, you make your way to the entry, where Kate told you the procession would start. 

Your dad’s coffin is being transported from inside the castle all the way to the church beside the cemetery down in the town. The carriage was pulled by horses decorated with candles and veils only adding unnecessary dramatism to the process. 

You managed to make your way almost all the way to the middle before anyone noticed you, but Kyle looked up right at that moment and let the king and the prince know my signalling at you with his eyes.

They are also dressed in black, all of them wearing their battle armour. The black metal looks intimidating, especially since you are used to seeing your kingdom's silver armour. 

The Prince once more has his face covered by the helmet so you can only see his eyes and for the first time even if it is through your veil, you make eye contact for more than a mere second, holding each other gaze for a longer moment. 

It gets interrupted by the master of ceremonies, calling your name and telling you to get to your place. He doesn't need to tell you, it is the same as it was for your mother. So you take your place in front of the carriage and hold the banner with your family’s emblem on it against your chest. 

“Princess.” A hand on your shoulder makes you turn and you look up at Kyle who looks at you sympathetically. “The king and Simon are riding horses at the back of the carriage, but Soap and I are walking right behind you, all right? Let us know if you need anything.” He says and once you nod he puts the helmet down covering his face. 

The master of ceremonies looks at you once everyone is at their place, and when you nod at him he orders you to open the doors.

The sun is barely out, and the chilly wind gets inside of your bones. But everyone is waiting for you to begin walking, so you do, and take the first step towards the church.

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

It stinks.

The whole damn church is packed with chrysanthemums.

All white.

Artificial love and appreciation. 

The church was full of them by the time you put your feet in, nobody from town had arrived yet. So it is not the flowers of the kingdom. 

The coffin gets moved from the carriage to the middle of the altar in the church, and you stand before it.

Alone.

Covered from head to toe in black.

Even the banner you brought all the way here was removed from your hands and moved somewhere else.

The townsfolk begin to arrive once the church bells start to ring, and you get yourself ready for what is about to begin.

Hundreds if not thousands of people are going to walk in front of you, bowing, showing their respect to the deceased monarch. 

As time goes by, you begin to feel sick. 

Your wound is no longer comfortably being held by the corset and is hammering at you to take it off.

The smell of the flowers makes you want to throw up as you are not able to smell anything else.

The lace of the gloves is no longer soft against your hands, and it keeps getting caught on your nails. 

Your feet hurt for the walk and standing all morning, the shoes no longer being comfortable. 

The faces of the hundreds of people walking in front of you become a blur, unable to recognise anybody.

You are getting dizzy and you know you cannot get away with it. You remember Kyle's offer and you are about to ask for help when you feel a hand.

It's almost as if he materialized from thin air, the Price is standing next to you. One of his hands on the small of the back involving it, the warmth of his hand covered by the glove brings you back to your feet. 

“Hm?” He hums trying to see if you heard him, and you shake your head. “I said if you are all right? You look like you are going to pass out any moment, do you need a rest?”

It is kind. His voice is deep, and he almost growls it. But it is kind, with worry interlaced with the words that leave his lips.

“I’m okay. Just the smell, makes it hard to breathe.” It's hard to stop looking at his eyes, the only thing you can see of him. He is tall, you barely reach his chest standing so close to him. His shoulders are broad, and his armour only makes more prominent his strong build. 

You managed to peel your eyes away from him and look back at the townspeople in front of you. It does not go unnoticed how the woman in front of you looks from the Prince to you with a curious look. 

To them, this must be like the unthinkable, the princess who is almost always hidden finally makes an appearance and not alone, but with the Prince of a foreign kingdom on her side. 

The Prince's hand is still on your back and moves up to your waist caressing with his thumb ignoring the rest of the people. “I’m right here, Princess.” He whispers just for you to hear. 

And suddenly the chrysanthemums are not the only thing making it hard to breathe.

—————————————————————

“They are having a party.” You tell Laswell. “My father is dead and they are having a party.”

After the funeral, when it was considered that everyone in town had visited the chapel, your father's coffin was taken by the cemetery workers and the gravedigger to bury him. 

The moment people started to dissipate, the Prince left your side and didn't give you another look. The king sent him a look you could not understand and he came to replace his son's place. 

He interjoined his arm with yours and walked you to where both the knights were standing. 

Everyone was moving around and it began a blur of movement, not even realising being back in your room.

You peel the veil off your head and throw it on top of your bed. Still feeling nauseous from the whole ordeal, you move to open the windows in your room and that's when you notice.

Downtown, everyone seems to be invited to a party. You can hear the music, the laughs, smell the food, see the dancing.

You close the windows. 

Laswell enters not too much later and looks at you lying down on your bed looking grumpy like a punished toddler.

“What do you mean?” She asks back at you.

“People downtown, look at the window. I have never seen them having such a party. They are celebrating my father's death!” You exclaim sitting up and feeling tears in your eyes. “My father was not that cruel… was he?”

Kate looks at you sighing as she walks to sit next to you.

“How should I say this? Princess, your father…” She sighs, staying silent for a second before she keeps going. “Your father was a really great father, but… not so great of a king. He was not born in this kingdom, it never belonged to him. Ever since your mother passed away it was more your kingdom than your father, that's why it never felt nice to me that he insisted on keeping you away. The townspeople wanted to see their Princess, but instead, they only saw their deceased Queen's husband.”

“But just because they didn't get to see me doesn't mean my dad was evil. He still took care of them, right?” You argue back.

Laswell sighs, trying to look for the right words to make you understand. “On all the years that have gone by since your mother's passing… how many parties has the town done? How many seasons festivals? How many jousts?” You look up to her thinking about it. None. Not a single celebration of anything. “Exactly.”

—————————————————————

“Farah!” You half whisper-half scream once you reach the forge inside of the castle looking for here.

After your talk with Kate, you are determined to check by yourself how the townspeople feel about the late king. But to do so, you need to visit them, and to do so, you need Farah. So you switch your mourning dress for some pants and a white loose blouse and begin to make your way down the stable.

She is the only person on the castle you would classify as a friend, being only a couple of years younger than her, you grow up together.

The blacksmith's daughter was never the first option of your parents as far as friends were concerned, but you were way too stubborn as a child and Farah was not that bad of a girl.

She's cleaning her latest invention, always working at night when she cannot be reprimanded by her father to do what she is supposed to be working on and not on her own project.

“What are you doing here?” She answers back standing closer to you. “I thought you were sleeping, the maids said you went straight to your room.”

“That's not important now. I wanna go to town, see the people. Have you seen the party?” You ask fidgeting with your hands as you wait for her to answer.

“I don't know, Princess. It's late, and you had an important day. Maybe next time?” She asks looking apologetic at you while she crosses her arms.

“Maybe… but I brought money.” You say smiling getting a coin out of the pocket of your pants. “C’mon, Farah. My treat, yeah?”

Farah stays looking at you for a second trying to look serious, but quickly her expression changes and walks up to you picking up the coin herself. “Yeah, I think you are right. It can be fun.” She says as she exits the forge and starts to work toward the stables. “Which would Her Majesty fancy?”

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

Taglist: @kristalhi

Hii, how are you doing?

I wanted to say a couple of things:

I said already I think that English is not my first language, but just in case I wanted to remember it. Especially to write Soap's dialogue cause I'm pretty much making up the accent so let me know if I'm butchering it too much.

I think at some point in the same chapter I said Simon had blue eyes, and I'm not sure why since they are brown. So from now forward if I mention them I'll say they are brown, sorry for the mix-up.

And that's it. Hope you like it and thank you for the support!!

#cod mw2 #call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #kate laswell #farah karim #simon imagine #simon riley imagine #simon riley imagines #simon ghost imagine #simon ghost x reader #medieval

[jungle-angel]

Two Birds In A Nest (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob are just beginning to build your lives in Montana and hope that your family will grow with it

Warnings: Talks about starting a family, wanting a family, smut etc.

Your moans were tied together with Bob's even as you felt him gutter into you, an explosion of warmth blooming between your legs as your heavy breathing began to even out with each other's. You reached up, placing a hot hand against Bob's chest, feeling his fast heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Oh baby," he sighed happily, nuzzling your cheeks and your jaw. "My sweet (y/n), I can't get enough of you."

You giggled a little as you felt his baby smooth skin against yours, the both of you still sensitive to each other's kissing and caressing. Bob helped you up from your bed and into the bathroom, running a hot bath for the both of you to get you cleaned up. God it was heaven being in your brand new bathroom and not having to worry about who would be up at some ungodly hour of the morning to hog the shower. The steam carried with it the smell of Bob's Irish Spring body wash that he used on the both of you, gently washing every part of you that he could touch. Back into your shared bedroom you both went, crawling under the warm covers as the blizzard outside began to rage. Your house however, was so cozy and warm, the dogs sleeping soundly in their crates while the cats had taken to the laundry room in the finished basement.

You and Bob lay facing each other, chest to chest, tits pressing against each other and still warm from the bath. He looked like a dream with his soft cheeks, his limpid blue eyes that reminded you of the forget-me-nots that popped in your garden every spring. The lazy but loving smile on his face was almost the same as his dad's, the spitting image in all those family photos of Bob as a baby being held by Joe, his father.

Yet there was something that stirred and ached in your chest. You couldn't put your finger on what it was or why it was there, but it was.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Bob asked, seeing the worrisome look playing with your face.

"Do you ever feel like something's missing?" you asked in reply.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you answered a little sadly. "I just.....I pass by one of the empty rooms and all I can see in there is you standing over a crib.....a little baby in your arms.....maybe you're sitting in the rocker singing and rocking him or her to sleep."

Bob could feel his eyes burning and a few loose tears beginning to form. Growing up the youngest in a big family, he spent endless days playing with all his nieces and nephews, sometimes watching them while his brothers and sisters either didn't have the time to do so or had to go on a SEAL team mission like his oldest sister, Reagan's husband. Picking them up from school, playing with them and taking care of them had made him feel as though there had been a hole somewhere that he could just hardly fill. Ever since the two of you had gotten married, he wanted so badly to have just that....a family of your own and a house that truly felt like home.

"Oh baby," he cooed, kissing your cheeks. "It'll happen, don't you worry."

You had hoped so. God you had hoped so. It was all you could think about, even when you were at the school trying to teach your fifth graders about ancient India and having to fill one side of the chalkboard with a drawing from The Ramayana. Now that you and Bob could finally have the time to try, you were excited, happy, nervous and scared all at once.

"Do you....do you wanna try?" you asked him a little meekly.

You felt him roll his body on top of yours, the heat intensifying a little bit from the heavy duvet you only used in the winter. "Hell yes," Bob murmured, his lips gently grazing against yours.

You felt him kiss you gently, just as he had done earlier that night, the wetness beginning to build again between your legs as his red hot, throbbing cock slipped inside you with ease. You sighed and moaned happily as his hips thrust gently in and out of you, slowly drawing your orgasm out of you. It was almost like the blizzard outside, dizzying and a wild flurry of moans, groaning and skin slapping against skin before everything calmed down and you and Bob were resting skin-to-skin against each other.

"You think this one will take?" you asked sleepily.

"I've got a feeling," Bob yawned.

Sure enough it did. After almost a week of you waking up sick, you and Bob were over the moon to find that it had taken, the tears filling his eyes when he hears the baby's heartbeat for the first time, more so when you learn that it's a little boy, your tiny little August Robert Floyd, who becomes the biggest blessing your family has ever received.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

[simpingland]

'Alone' together// Lucerys Velaryon x fem!reader.

Y/N Celtigar and Luke have been betrothed for years, but the reader is having a hard time finding true friendship on Dragonstone. Some tutoring makes Luke change his mind about his wife to be.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

No one could stand Jace when he was ahead in any of the classes you all shared with the Master. That's why you took every lesson so seriously, just so you could take him down a peg or two. And it could be fun most of the time, but in the long run, you and Jace never quite clicked, causing Rhaena and Luke to stay somewhat aloof from you, preferring the favour of the prince to the favour of a pupil like you.

When everyone heard the news about Lady Celtigar's death, you were only eight. Rhaenyra saw in you a child who longed for her mother as she had longed for her own, and made a pact with your father to take you into her care. He agreed, proposing a marriage in return. It was a good idea, Valyrian blood with Valyrian blood, extending and strengthening houses that moved across the Seven Kingdoms. Unfortunately, though you were the same age as Jace, Baela was also a close child and the idea of her being queen in the future protected Rhaenyra and Jace's reign...so you were promised to Luke.

It could have been worse, they could have promised you Joffrey...or worse...Jace! At least Lucerys, as you found out a few days later, turned out to be a good boy, if a little too childish for your taste. Growing up in Dragonstone had been quicker than anyone expected, but no less hard. The siblings were very close to each other, and they were also very close to their dragons. Rhaena was sweet and pleasant, but there was something about her company that made you feel as if she was there out of obligation. You never had the feeling that you belonged there.

Arguments between the four of you were very common, never worrisome as they were usually the typical ones caused by going on adventures together, by stealing things from each other... although if someone came out crying, it was usually you. You were a studious young woman, always alert and if Rhaenyra found out about all the shenanigans of the group, it was because you told her. They never listened when you justified yourself by saying that lying was not an option for you. At dinners together you were usually the one who was left out of the conversation, even if they were talking about you. If you were lucky and Luke got mad at Jace too, you had the young man sitting next to you as he prattled on about Arrax and how much he hated Jace that day. He never failed to make you laugh. Sadly, that didn't always happen, and it was more common for him to give you the same dirty looks as the rest when you didn't play along.

Rhaenyra already knew about this problem, and she tried to educate you on how being friends with your husband was always the best way to be married. The problem was that you didn't really know how to make friends...because no one understood how you loved them, everything you said or did ended up being used against you. And no matter how much you made up your mind that you shouldn't do anything, you couldn't help but stay at the table with Luke after he failed his geography lesson with the Maester. Jace had already left for his dragon with a victorious smile, and Rhaena accompanied him, the Maester would show her how to feed her little Morning.

Luke was more embarrassed than sad, you could see it in the way he looked down at you as you paced the table with the map.

"Don't you have one of your sewing classes or one of those lame things you like to do?" he asked.

"I don't like boring things...I just like to be quiet. It's different. And no, I can stay and help you."

"No need, thanks..." he tried to concentrate on the map.

"You should learn some trick to memorize the map...a song, a rhyme..."

"That's just stupid." He interrupted you and you instantly stopped wanting to help him. Something must have crossed your eyes because Luke felt bad right away. "Sorry...it's just...Jace will laugh at me if he sees me burst into song if someone asks me to point out the Isles of Tarth."

This made you laugh, and Luke smiled at your reaction. It wasn't very casual to see you laugh genuinely, it was always usually out of politeness or only brought on by the Maester, Rhaenyra, or some guard. Although, if he thought about it, Luke had seen you laugh at times when he had focused more on you than on the dinners.

"It's just a trick, you end up memorising it eventually. Besides, by the time you're Lord of Driftmark you'll have travelled more. It will be easier."

"How do you memorise it?"

"Oh..." you didn't expect that question. Perhaps because the answer was so personal. "I think about my family. Where my grandmothers were born...where my uncle died...where my grandfather won a battle...where my mother was a ward when she was my age..."

It seemed like a sad thing, but it wasn't really sad for you. The maps served you like a history book. You'd always had a head for remembering stories, and it was all because you felt too trapped there, too lonely. You enjoyed visits to the castle, something the others hated, for even the dullest Lord had an anecdote about someone in your family. However, if the Targaryen children wanted to know something about their family, all they had to do was open any history book.

"It's very nice, really, though I think I'd go mad if I used your method." Luke tried to lighten up a bit the turn the conversation seemed about to take.

"Right, I think the simplest thing to do is for us to decorate our own map." You suggested.

"I don't have enough inks to make a nice map."

"I do!"

Luke had to follow you at a quickened pace, even though he was even slightly taller than you, your enthusiasm to show him your full artistic arsenal outweighed physics. You let him into your rooms, where he hadn't been for many years, and he was surprised to see that it was more cluttered than he expected. There were piles of books in every nook and cranny, many open and with notes on their sides. You also had a small desk in front of your balcony. When he looked out, he noticed that you overlooked the beach. It made him tender to know that he could watch you study while he trained with Jace.

The afternoon flew by as Luke decorated a map with colours assigned to houses, animals and creatures. He made trees and mountains, and you taught him to draw castles for important towns. On a thinner piece of paper, you wrote the names of all those places and Luke tried to name the points you pointed out and then you checked it by putting the paper over it. And it didn't take him long to match what he said with what it really was. He was so happy that he even gave you a hug.

From that day on, geography lessons were much more fun for Luke, as he spent more time drawing than memorising, and he showed you all the things he was doing. Jace's concentration would be thrown off by your whispering and giggling. Sometimes you would show him the annotations and drawings you had on your map, and you would have fun imagining an tracing a dragon ride.

He started helping you in Valyrian, Luke's favourite subject. And at dinners he always sat next to you, apart from Rhaena and Jace. Luke always did the talking, for he always had more to tell than you, who spent the whole day engaged in something completely alternative to what the others were doing. Day by day, he would let you feel open enough to give him your opinion on the books you were reading or telling him some childhood stories.

One of the days when Jace and Luke were training, Luke remembered that afternoon, and your little desk overlooking the beach. He stopped to look for you with his eyes, and it took him a while to find your figure, but he did. He couldn't see you clearly, but he could make out that you were leaning on your balcony, concentrating on something, with a pen in your hand.

"It would be good if you were concentrating on something, Lucerys," the older scolded him.

"Sorry, you're right...I'm really getting better though." Luke smiled mischievously at her.

"Only in geography, I'm not going to applaud your need to draw trees in the woods." Jace landed a lazy first punch, pulling Luke's gaze away from yours.

"Hey! Easy!" Luke tried to hit him back, but clearly Jace was better than him.

"Oops, sorry...I didn't remember how much of a pussy you've become since you and Y/N are the best of friends."

It was silly, but the fight that was supposed to be a rehearsal turned into something all too real, and Jace and Luke were soon fighting without swords, using shoves and fists. From a blow that Jace threw disproportionately, Luke felt part of his lower lip split. At the sight of blood, both stopped instantly.

Of course they were brought before Rhaenyra by the guard who at the time was unable to stop them. And you, who could hear all the commotion, went down to check what was going on. Both were dishevelled but only Luke was bleeding.

"I want an explanation, right now!" Rhaenyra looked furious.

"Luke is being unbearable, mother." Jace gave her a terrible look.

"It's you who can't stand to be outdone. You're always the most important." Luke accepted the water-soaked handkerchief you gave him. He let out a small whimper as he felt the sting.

"Maybe it's because I'm the heir to the throne, my education is vital. And you only know how to giggle and be a shitty student."

You couldn't take it anymore, he always used that excuse, that he had to be the best to be a good king. Luke had already confessed to you over dinner that the love and admiration he had for Jace causes him a lot of anxiety, because he felt unfit to rule something as important as Driftmark.

"That doesn't give you any right to hit him..." everyone turned to look at you, and Jace was relieved to find himself back in the same situation where you were making a fool of yourself.

"You weren't there to see it, it would be nice if you stayed out of this for once."

"I didn't do anything wrong, don't talk to me like that." You were getting that high-pitched, agitated voice again that you get when you're feeling overly nervous. Luke could see it, his hand rested on your arm gently.

"It's your fault Luke's an twat now. All you know how to do is be a pain in the ass to everyone, and now you're filling my brother's head with your bullshit."

"What's wrong with you is that you're unbearable and jealous because Baela isn't here to tell you how well you're doing everything."

"And what's wrong with you is that you're such a pain in the ass that your father put you on the first boat that offered to take you off his sight."

"Jace!" Rhaenyra snapped at him. "I command you to stop talking like that. I remember teaching you some manners, didn't I?. Apologize. Right now."

Jace gave a sigh. And with a forced smile, he focused on them both.

"Luke, I'm really sorry I hurt you, maybe I went too far, considering you're also going to spend the rest of your life next to this absolute bore and insufferable woman. It's a big sacrifice on your part."

Jace gave Luke a friendly slap on his shoulder and turned away, forgiving himself. You, on the other hand, had already started to feel the tears forming at the thought of disappearing from your father's sight. It was too delicate of a subject, and you longed for him, Jace had struck another blow too hard.

"Apologize to Y/N, Jace." Luke's voice sounded serious, demanding. Jace turned away.

"By what right are you commanding me around now?"

"I'm your brother, and Y/N will be my wife, your sister-in-law, and we'll all be a family. Show her the respect she deserves, and ask for her forgiveness."

Jace was quiet for a second. Luke's hand moved to reach for your hand and squeezed it, it was cold, but at his touch, it began to warm.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." It was dry, and it was surely not for you, but for Luke. It was still humiliating, and of course, it was you who left that room crying.

You tried to hide your tears from Luke, who was asking you not to leave, but you couldn't even come up with an excuse, you just disappeared from there.

When you didn't show up for dinner, Luke couldn't eat a single bite. Rhaenyra watched as your empty seat provoked something in him that hadn't happened before, he became quiet. Jaxe was also quiet, stressed and recovering from the scold he received from his mother after all that scene. With a nod of his head, Luke had permission to get up and look for you. Your door was open, but inside your room you were hard to find. On the floor, your back against your bed, a candle illuminated one of your maps. You tried to wipe your face a little as Luke sat down next to you.

"You're missing your favourite dessert..." he tried to get a smile out of you, he couldn't. "I'm sure Jace regrets what he said, he didn't say a single word at dinner."

"He regrets a lot of things I'm sure, but never that he spoke ill of me." You told him without so much as a glance at him.

"That's not true. There may be friction, but we're all family."

"Yeah, but I'm not in it. All I try to do is to be fair, to do the right thing. Your mother is a future queen to me, I must always tell her the truth. And none of the three of you seem to understand the great danger you are in every day..."

"I do understand that you do it for us, but soon she will be like a mother to you too." Luke held your hand.

"I miss my family so much...All I really have from them is just memories I didn't even get to live, few years with my mother... I try to love in the present but then I'm faced with this ignorace against my person.Lucerys, every day I feel this sorrow, this silence...I feel so, so lonely."

Then he understood your great passion for maps. And he suddenly felt like a tremendous idiot. I could have been there for you much earlier. But he was convinced that it was a good time to start.

"I've had dreams too...well, they were really nightmares...about being heir to Driftmark and spending my whole life alone. Jace would be here, Mother at King's Landing, Rhaena married, and everyone else would be dead...and you would be left, as always, locked in your rooms, not wanting to talk to anyone."

At last you looked at him, he too had a sad expression. His lip was split at the bottom. His eyes connected with yours.

"I'm sorry you had that impression of me...you...I actually, genuinely like you. A lot."

You watched as Luke smiled mischievously, like his mother did.

"It'll be the only thing I beat Jace at..." he finally got a laugh out of you. "Maybe, we could feel 'alone' together."

"Sounds like a good idea..."

"And we can go to sleep together, but alone." He continued to joke.

"And have lonely blonde and brunette children..." you continued.

"And sail the ocean alone..."

And in unison you both said "but together!"

At the coincidence, you burst out laughing. And more you laughed when Luke got a stitch of pain in his lip from smiling. His little scream was too funny.

"Hey...don't be mean!" he scolded you with a totally fake frown.

"Oh, my prince, I'm sorry! That wound looks bad..."

"Well, the Maester says nothing that can't be fixed with a kiss on the wound in question."

"Haha! Now I really feel sorry for you if you need a kiss from the Maester..."

"I'm afraid you're out of luck, the sages say only kisses from beautiful, blonde women, lousy with Valyrian but great readers with a strangely amusing laugh."

In that light, Luke had made you happier than you had ever imagined. He might still be a little more childish than you'd like, but it was this that made you laugh during dinners and lessons. This dedication to your could be the beginning of a fun and pleasant future, much closer than your inner child had imagined when you read those love stories in your books.

It was you who reached first, and Luke was the first to close his eyes. A tender kiss on the lips, first on his bottom lip, soft and slow, trying not to hurt him. But above was his upper lip, intact, and there you gave him another kiss, more intense, but just as sweet. And Luke pressed his lips together as hard as he could, letting himself be carried away by your soft lips brushing his. When you broke apart, he saw you blush a little, but you immediately laughed at him, who was much more flushed than you were.

"Actually...if I'm going to be your wife, you didn't have to memorise all those places. I would know them for you." You told him as you walked on your way to the kitchen, ready to dine alone with the leftovers from dinner.

"Right..." Luke led the way, holding your hand. "Although then you would never have realised how much you really like me."

#lucerys velaryon #lucerys strong #prince lucerys #lucerys targaryen #luke velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x you #lucerys Velaryon x y/n #lucerys Velaryon fanfic #lucerys velaryon one shot #game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #elliot grihault

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 8<-

Part 9

Pairing: Han x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Under 18 DNI!, unprotected sex (just don’t please), Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, fingering, oral (f receiving), edging

Word Count: 3.8k

Note: Well well well. I‘m back. Hope you like it! Han being equally hot and a little brat is a new kink of mine. So you’re welcome. Comments, Like, Reblogs are always a blessing and if you have ideas for prompts just tell me. ~much love babes

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

"I need help"

Han's first message on that Monday evening sounded worrisome, and since you could put off the phone call to the stylist for a few more minutes, you typed a reply:

"Are you at the studio?"

"Yes. I need you now!!!"

So you set your Ipad aside and looked at yourself again in your selfie camera. Why you checked your hair and face exactly, you didn't know yourself.

Just as you were standing in front of the door to the studio, Chan opened it.

"Hey", you said in surprise, not knowing he was still here.

"Hey. Be careful, Han is very annoying", he said and that made you smile.

„I‘m surely gonna survive our moody Jisung.“

"Yea I definitely won‘t. So i'll leave you alone."

Before he could go, you hold him back by his arm.

"You have a meeting with the choreographers in 20 minutes", you reminded him.

He nodded and looked down at you with lustful eyes.

"Thanks. Is that skirt new?"

Embarrassed, you nodded and looked down at yourself. Was the black pleated skirt too short after all? Didn't he like it?

But Chan walked a few steps around you and looked at your ass before pinching it firmly with a hand.

"You're really lucky I have to go to the meeting right now", he whispered with a dangerously spark in his eyes and immediately a warm shiver ran down your spine.

"Have fun with Jisung. He really needs some cheering up."

With those words, he reached under your skirt to feel the warm flesh of your asscheeks and pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. Immediately a sharp gasp escaped you and there he had already disappeared into the elevator.

Since the day in the studio the air around you two was even more charged with energy and you were addicted to all those little flirts that have arisen between you again and again.

Inside the studio, you found a dejected Jisung lounging on the couch in the dim light, staring holes into the ceiling.

"Hey, Hannie."

He immediately straightened up and looked at you with bright eyes.

"Finally... I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"What's wrong?"

You walked up to him and glanced at his laptop on the desk, where a white screen shone at you.

"I've been trying to write lyrics all day. I know the tune, even the damn theme, but I just can't seem to come up with the right words!", he grumbled, tossing his phone onto the desk with the blank note on the screen.

"How am I supposed to help you with that?", you asked, confused.

"Inspiration."

"Huh?"

"I need inspiration and motivation", he explained expertly and crossed his hands behind his head.

Jisung looked even hotter than usual today. He wore beige sweatpants and a black tank top that was cut so wide at the sides that you could see his defined abs peeking out. His hair was a mess from all the hair tussling, and his bright eyes looked at you so intently that you unconsciously nibbled at the buttons of your shirt.

"I thought that seeing you and being around you would help my inspiration. So please come here and sit down! When you're near me, I can work better."

"Oh well, okay... If that’s all.“

So you sat down on the couch next to him and blinked innocently at him. You hadn't missed the needy expression in his eyes, which were constantly glued to your bare legs peeking out from under the short skirt. He sat silently at the other end of the sofa for a while and you could feel how restless he was. He wasn’t lacking inspiration. He was just horny.

But you wouldn't make it that easy for him.

He was always such a tease, that you wanted to see him struggle a little bit. That's when he turned back to you.

"To be honest, I lack motivation too... To cure my artistic block, you may have to get closer."

There was a playful grin on his lips and you were having a hard time resisting his charm anyway. So you went along with his games and moved a little closer until your shoulder touched his. Seemingly by accident, you leaned forward a bit to take a look at his cell phone, which he was holding again.

As you did so, a strand of hair fell into your face and Jisung's eyes were unashamedly focused directly on your cleavage hovering in front of his face.

"Better?", you asked hypocritically, and he opened and closed his mouth in overwhelm without a sound coming out. His hands clenched around the phone that he had to hold himself due to the fact how easily it would be to reach you and rip those clothes off of your body.

"A little. But I don't think it's enough yet."

Without further hesitation, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you onto his lap so that your face was only a hand's width away from his.

"That's even better", he stated with amusement, letting his hands roam down your sides until they were firmly on your hips.

"How are you going to write lyrics like that?", you asked with an amused laugh, and he just shrugged.

"I have to think of some first, don't I? You can help me best with that topic."

"What do you want it to be about?", you continued to ask, not wanting to be lulled by his cologne and sparkling eyes. His fingers were already circling your hipbones and with each movement of his legs under you, your skirt pushed up.

"I want to write about love, comfort and joy... So what do you think?"

You gasped softly as he suddenly pressed your hips against him for a moment. Wearing only panties under your skirt, the sensation of your bare skin on his thighs was tingling. His gaze took on a suggestive tinge and you could see his desire from a distance.

"That sounds like a good topic", you murmured, gently running your fingers over his chest.

"Do you think, you can inspire me, honey?", he asked seductively and squeezed your hips.

"I can try", you answered and began tugging at the buttons of your shirt with your fingers.

Greedily he watched your movements as you agonisingly slowly undid the top buttons one by one. You couldn’t get enough of his impatient facial expression that looked like he could hardly sit still.

Then he became impatient and asked:

"May I? Please, I need to see your boobs so bad!"

After you nodded, he immediately set to work with greedy fingers and opened your shirt. At first your bra popped out and when the shirt was completely open, he looked at your body as if he had never seen anything more beautiful. With both hands he pushed the shirt completely off your shoulders until it fell to the floor behind you.

Now you were just sitting in your black lace bra on his lap and you could already feel something happening underneath you in his pants.

"Your boobs are fucking pretty...", he murmured, stroking up your sides with warm fingertips until he touched the fabric of your bra. Almost reverently, he stroked the edge of the bra, along your breasts, until he slid the straps off your shoulders and began spreading wet kisses down your neck. Relatively quickly, he worked his way to your neckline, where there was no place he didn't explored with his mouth.

He sucked on sensitive spots and licked over your skin, as if it tasted sweeter than anything he had experienced before.

With his hands he had already hurriedly pushed up your skirt up and freed your ass. With both hands he squeezed your ass hard and pressed you firmly against his growing bulge. There he finally drove up your back to the clasp of your bra and looked at you questioningly. You could only nod, overwhelmed by his seductive touch.

With one fluid motion, he undid the clasp and tossed the bra aside. His eyes bubbled with passion and he immediately groped your breasts with his hands.

He gently kneaded your flesh and said:

"Your so fucking hot. Do you even know that, jagi?"

You laughed softly and ran your hands over his chest. He just had eyes for you and began to suck the skin of your boobs between his teeth. His sloppy kisses and licking sent the heat between your legs and you couldn't help but grind your desperate cunt against his bulge. But he took his time to worship every millimeter of your skin and kissed again your neck, up to your jaw, until he reached the corners of your mouth.

Briefly he released his lips from your heated skin to look at you.

"So you're really okay with an arrangement with me?", he asked carefully to make sure you really agreed.

"Yes Jisung. I really want this too."

"Even though I'm lousy at flirting?", he smiled and you giggled at the memory of your first encounter.

"I'm sitting half naked on your lap with your mouth all over me... So take that as a win."

"I really do", he laughed and suddenly grabbed your chin, to kiss you deeply.

His lips tasted like caramel and coffee and you wanted to taste as much of him as possible. It was addicting and when the kiss got more and more sensual, as he touched every inch of your body, you began to rub your hips harder against his bulge. Desire burned in your veins, which is why you pulled his tank top over his head in one motion and tossed it carelessly aside. So you could finally look at his defined torso and you ran your fingers over each of his wiry abs.

Meanwhile he sucked on your nipple and kneaded the other one between his fingers. His tongue moved so sensually against your aroused breasts that you had to sigh softly. Completely absorbed in your body, he let his tongue circle around your nipple and bit into it, eliciting a hiss from you. Then he worked your skin further, sucking it so hard that red spots appeared so high up your neck you wouldn't be able to cover it up.

As he looked at his work, he grinned with satisfaction. Alarmed, you stared at him and gave him a slap on the chest.

"Ji! What if someone sees the marks?"

"Then they'll know you had fun", he replied cheekily, pressing his lips hard against yours again.

By now he was getting more and more impatient and even through the fabric of his pants you could feel that his length was already painfully hard. His hips began to rub against yours and your panties were already completely soaked.

He licked his tongue keenly into your mouth and his fast movements made you drowsy. Abruptly he pushed you back on the couch by your shoulders and knelt between your legs. With his hands he impatiently pushed your knees apart to get a glimpse of your middle.

"Fuck your so wet and your just mine right now."

"I'm just helping a friend", you teased him and looked up at him through your thick eyelashes.

A breathless laugh escaped him before he literally ripped your panties off your body. It landed somewhere in the room, as did your skirt, which he pulled off so fast it made you dizzy. Two fingers stroked teasingly over your cunt, and as he did so, his eyes bored relentlessly into yours. By the time you saw the mean grin, it was too late. He penetrated you hard with three fingers and began pumping them into you, not letting you take a breath.

The teasing between you two was obviously even stronger, when you fucked.

Immediately your hips snapped up, but he pressed them roughly back onto the couch. His thumbs circled over your clit and stars danced before your eyes, while you wheezed overwhelmed.

Now you could no longer suppress the unholy sounds.

Jisung's fingers were merciless and brought you closer and closer to the redemptive orgasm in no time. All the while he maintained eye contact, enjoying the aroused expression on your face, the half-open lips, and how your body squirmed beneath him.

"Look at you, so eager and needy to be used by me - you're such a cutie", he shot back and already the knot in your stomach was tightening. Just before the high was finally reached, he pulled his fingers out of you. Stunned, you stared at him, but he just laughed evilly.

"What the fuck, Ji?"

"Just wait, and I'll think about letting you come, honey."

If he didn’t climbed back between your legs, you would have hit him. But he started circling your clit with his tongue and you were suddenly caught in the rush of arousal again. He was insanely good with his mouth tightly pressed on your pussy, his tongue softly nudging your hole and humming against your cunt as you quivered beneath him. He didn’t rushed while eating you out. His hands pinned your thighs to your sides to keep them spread as his tongue licked stripes up the center of your pulsating pussy, triggering your desperate whimpers of need.

"You look so pretty, can't wait to feel you hugging my cock“, he grunted and grabbed your thighs harder and buried his face between your legs again. He did things with his tongue that you didn't even know were possible and the sounds of his mouth on you, echoed in your head.

His words turned you on even more and you yearned more and more for release, but Jisung was a brat and played his little games with you, as always.

He forced you to keep your trembling legs spread open, cleaning up the wetness that pooled down your thighs incessantly and onto the couch but just before you could finally come he broke off each time until you were about to cry.

"Hannie, please! Don't do this to me!"

You could clearly see that he loved the small whimpers you let out as soon as he stoped the stimulation on your pussy, feeling so empty without him filling you up and he practically was enflamed by your small tears of frustration as he continuously urged you towards orgasm only to leave you desperately on the edge, clit puffy and sensitive from his constant abuse.

"So what do you want, honey? Say it!", he commanded challengingly and you had to force yourself to actually beg him.

"Fuck me, Hannie! Please fuck me already! I want your dick inside of me, now!

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He literally ripped off his pants and underwear and placed himself in front of your entrance. He was blessed with a beautiful thick and above average dick, that would ruin you.

Teasingly he slipped his tip through your folds and you already knew that he would stretch you out. Oh he loved the look of frustration building up on your face as he continuously had denied your release, but now he wanted to fuck you, until you would scream his name. And he definitely wouldn’t go easy on you.

He sunk his whole length into you in one motion.

His movements were slow at first and he savored every second. His arms were right next to your head and he looked deep into your eyes as his speed increased.

"Fuck you do feel amazing around me... So tight", he groaned and the interrupted orgasm rolled in with triple strength. But when you saw the gleam in his eyes, you knew he was up to something again. He visibly enjoyed the desperation in your eyes and every moan that he forced out of you, with every thrust into your pulsating cunt.

He constantly brought you to the brink of an orgasm with his length, twitching deep inside your core. Just as he got the sense that you were about to cum he hastily removed himself, cruel chuckles leaving him as you almost sobbed beneath him.

"I'm going to kill you, Hannie“, you huffed and pushed your hips against him.

Amused, he ran his hands through his hair and looked down at you. As he did so, he tried to memorize every little detail of your naked body. You were perfect and he knew he was already addicted to you and your body.

"You really want me this bad darling?", he teased.

"Shut up, idiot!" you pressed out, tears in the corners of your eyes.

He would drag it out until your high came over you with such force that you were just a fucked out mess with nothing else on your mind than his dick.

With your legs wrapped around his hips, you pulled him closer to you. He reached into your hair and pulled your head back by it as he thrusted hard into your aching pussy again. This time the ruts of his hips were exaggerated and sloppy. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head while he kept a bruising grip on your thighs, burying his dick further into your cunt. The filthy sounds of your wet pussy tightening around his length filled the room, soft curses falling from his lips once your hands tugged on his damp hair, mouth meeting his in a rough, passionate kiss while he continued his pleasurable abuse on your hole. He was stirred up even more by your pleas and bratty moans and would think of them, every time he would need to get off.

Just before you finally came, he broke off again in mid-motion. The pressure aches in every fiber of your body and you feared to faint if he doesn't finally let you release.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Jisung's chest shook slightly as low chuckles left his kiss-bruised lips, hands softly pinching your ass as you wriggled beneath him, raising your hips to push your cunt further toward his leaking cock as soft pants and begs slipped past your glossy lips. He rubbed the head of his length between your folds, teasing your needy figure as you clawed your nails into his back.

"I can't get enough of the desperate tears in your eyes and the needy moans. You are so incredibly hot when all you want is my cock.“

"Fuck you!"

The insult crossed your lips before you could realize it. Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and looked as if you being bratty was turning him on even more. Before he could react, you straighten up, grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him back until he was sitting under you.

This time you were the one overpowering him and you quickly sinked down on his length. Without consideration, you started riding his throbbing dick hard while resting your hands on his shoulders.

You elicited overwhelmed moans from him and you felt him twitch inside you. Soon he was gripping your hips so tightly with his hands that there would be definitely bruises left behind.

He snapped his hips into yours harder and harder and moaned: "I'm going to make you come so hard that everyone in the building will know who's fucking you right now."

It sounded like a promise he would keep, as the knot in your lower belly was so tense by now that you would probably explode. As his thrusts got even faster and he felt you tighten around him, he pressed you down on his length with both hands and that's when you finally came.

His name kept bubbling over your lips mixed with pornographic moans and whimpers and so he kept thrusting into you, making you work out your massive orgasm until the last second. It was overwhelming and you could see stars flashing in front of your eyes.

But he didn’t let go of you, instead he pushed you back onto the couch by your shoulders while you weren't fully conscious yet.

"You didn't think I was done with you already, did you?", he asked leaning over you, slowly pushing his length into your fucked out core again. Whimpering, you curled your fingers into his back and he began thrusting into you again.

He made you cum again and again until you were an absolute mess beneath him, legs trembling, tear stained cheeks and pussy aching from his torment. You scratched his back with your fingernails, trying to find something to hold on to, while your head and body felt like you were flying in ecstasy. Either you were in heaven or in hell. Your body was on fire and Jisung fucked you so good that you were a completely cockdrunk mess.

But eventually, he couldn’t hold back anymore and his thrusts became messier, until he came inside you with a growl.

Breathing heavily, you laid together for quite a while. Even though the couch was small, you snuggled together so that you could lie on it. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and pulled you to his chest.

Your legs wouldn't stop shaking and Jisung stroked your head as gently as if he hadn't just destroyed your pussy.

"You did that very well. You're really something special, darling."

His voice was like honey and he caressed you with so much loving attention that you snuggled closer, breathing in his scent and running your fingers dreamily over his chest.

"Did it help?", you asked, looking up at him.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead and looked at your face, as if in it alone he could find all the inspiration he was looking for.

"Definitely! I even have an idea for the hook already," he said with a grin, stroking his hand down your back.

"I think you're my muse."

Immediately your cheeks turned red and you hid your face against his chest.

"I'm glad if I could help“, you said sheepishly, and he lifted your chin a little with two fingers so you were looking into his eyes. The amber around his dark pupils sparkled beautifully and you lost yourself in it.

"You have to stay with us forever. Could you promise me that?", he asked, sounding way more serious. Like he was really afraid of losing something important.

"I don't plan to go anywhere“, you answered him and that's when your lips collided.

This kiss was different. It was sensual, slow and full of affection. There were hundreds of emotions all at once, all of them wrapping you in warmth. It was even as if you could feel his gratitude from his mere touch.

All of this mixed into a single feeling that filled everything like sunlight: pure happiness.

->Part 10

——————————————————————-

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Taglist (closed):

@poisonivy21 @elizalabs3 @chartrucewhore @smutlemononeshot @hgema @bookwyrm28 @gemini-demon @jeongchaos @jihanlovic @comingupwithacoolnameishard @marked-unknown @yuhjoeyuh @bakedlilgoonie @itstorimf @toomuchtellyneck @ana-stasssiaaa @galaxypox @n034sy @amara-mars @purple-belle @amararosesblog @tori719 @rindomo @freakinthesheets-excelexcel @niaalove @crazyllamasurfer @luunaruwu @jenseok17 @mariegalea @kimseungminsprincess @julciaqwerty @officialshania @whore4stucky9104 @foxinnie8 @i-dont-know-me-either @sirenthalia @uno7 @jeonnginns @mixling-blog @httpsmultifandom @hyunlixwife @eastleighsblog @tzalethhwang @queenofdragons12 @fixation-dump @midsoulz @emmxxsworld @scarletrosesposts @sugahannie @jinniespuppy

#bang chan #stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids ot8 #stray kids x you #stray kids han #han jisung x reader #han jisung #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #skz #skz han #skz jisung #skz han jisung #skz series #fluff #fanfiction #ot8 x reader #skz ot8 #ot8 x you #stray kids jisung #han jisung x you #bang chan x reader #changbin

[ashesbreadandbutter]

Vox x Alastor || Tell Me Who Did This, Now.

So I know I know, commission work yes yes I'm getting to it BUT! I wrote a little blurb for that little comic @milariro drew for radiostatic which is literally like my favorite ship I think. 👀

Anyway hope y'all like it! ÙwÚ

Word Count: 2k

Rating: PG(?), maybe PG-13. Mostly angsty ish feel?

-

It isn't the first time he's lost track of him somewhere but every time it happens Alastor hopes it's the last. 

He hasn't seen Vox in days and considering how close they are… it's strange, worrisome. 

Vox usually keeps up with him, taking the time to send messages and letters and pop up at the most sudden of times and Alastor always responds. Life in hell has been growing on the two of them, Vox has been so excited recently… so eager to announce that he had a dream, one where he could publicize the two of them, where they could happily pursue their goals… together and Alastor both loved… and despised the very idea. 

Really he himself is fine with his little following; those few sinners, Vox included, who seemed to always tune in but he'd be a liar if he told himself that he didn't see this …new behavior that seemed to jump out of his friend. Vox was a big dreamer, they had spent many long hours talking to each other, laughing and joking while also spewing their deepest hopes and dreams…well usually it was Vox who did so while Alastor listened and encouraged him but he couldn't help but want to stop the other at the same time.

To tell him that he didn't need to go out there and get big and famous or whatever because Alastor likes the way Vox already is but his friend, his silly friend had his hopes for their pitiful, shameful lives down here so who would Alastor really be to stop him?

To put it lightly, Alastor is anxious over the other demon who was still just hardly taller than Alastor's own shoulder. He's worried that something might have happened to his friend considering how long he's been missing now. After all, Alastor had noticed the way they seemed to draw more attention these days when they were out together… the sneaky glances and judging gazes the other sinners would give them.

Alastor doesn't care, couldn't care less especially considering how easy most demons are to get rid of but… Vox had seemed to grow rather conscious of his presence outside because of it all. 

There's been times where he's even mentioned it, brought it up when it was just him and Alastor together.. Alastor could never forget it, the first time it was ever brought up… the way that Vox seemed to look over his shoulder and double check locks and doors with the excuse of making sure they were ‘safe’. 

It angers Alastor. 

Annoys him so bad to the point that he'd kill them, split their skulls and the ground they walked and before Vox’s very own feet but… for some reason whenever Alastor gets to that point… the point of nearly no return, Vox will lightly brush his hand against his own and while that kind, warm smile and tell Alastor that it was okay. 

That they didn't matter. 

That he didn't care. 

And so on and so forth. 

Alastor moves through the room now, annoyance dripping into the air around him as he seems to get ready to go somewhere… to go look for him because after everything they've been through so far he could admit that he didn't… like it when he couldn't keep tabs on Vox. When they weren't together so Alastor could defend him if needed. When he couldn't hover around Vox like a hawk threatening to peck out anyone's eyes who dared to even spill a drop of liquor on his shoes. He's smiling but he's anything but happy as he gets dressed to go out and hunt down Vox himself..

It's not until he's all ready, a clawed hand reaching out to his front door when his ears suddenly perk as the sound of knocking from the other side fills the room. 

Alastor freezes for a moment, his mind simply going blank in that very moment except for the thought of Vox that lingered and as he shifted gears and continued to reach out and turn the door before another knock could be heard, Alastor found himself faced with Vox. 

Immediately there's a surge of electricity that rushes through his body at being faced with his friend. 

He's relieved, for starters, just seeing him but then that turns into confusion, then slowly into unbridled rage when he takes in the sight of the other more closely. 

“Al..” Vox chuckles softly, that little chuckle that Alastor had grown rather fond of over their time of knowing each other even in those moments when he did it after telling some stupid joke or when it happened when they seemed to press close to each other in the moments when they could. He usually loves hearing it but this time he does not. 

Especially because it's glitchy, corrupted from what he can see. 

Not while Vox stands before him looking like a stray, beaten dog who practically limped its way back to its owner.

“I know I'm later than I said I'd be but hey, I'm here now yeah?” Vox starts off, or at least attempts to through riggidy default settings and his scratchy voice box though Alastor seems to understand him anyway. 

He doesn't want to though. 

He doesn't want to be faced by him when he's like this and all Alastor manages to do is let out a glitchy sound himself though unlike Vox he's not tired or worn, he's energized, livid. 

His eyes move over Vox's form; looking at his heavily dirtied and wrinkled shirt that seemed to be missing a few buttons then they look at the way Vox seems to cradle one of his arms and of course Alastor takes in his screen which seemed shattered, clearly punched in. 

Rightfully so, Vox seems to grow self conscious as the way Alastor hasn't responded yet. He knew that appearing like this at such a late hour would be one thing for the man but it's so strange to see Alastor so… serious. Vox laughs a little, lowering his gaze as if shy, unwilling to show his face as he slowly looks down to his shoes.

A moment of silence washes over them and Vox can't help but rub his already sore arm.

Maybe he shouldn't have come after all? Perhaps Alastor was even angry with him for doing so after already being hours late… Vox knew he shouldn't have come, should have just dealt with this on his own like he preferred to do so but they both knew Alastor would have come looking for him if he hadn't shown up because that's just who Alastor was when it came to Vox. 

His rushing thoughts come in bundles, so much so that the silence becomes deafening and Vox can't help the way his body wants to just naturally step back and walk away as if he never came to begin with, and maybe that was for the best? He hates bothering Alastor, hated not being strong enough to always hold his ground or to scare others away like Alastor so easily seemed to do and maybe it makes him feel inferior, unworthy of being with the other man which always makes his heart ache when he comes down to such a conclusion. He has so many dreams for them but at times much like these ones he wondered if he was just getting reality messed up with said dreams. 

It's not until a finger slips under his screen and lifts it to make Vox's gaze focus on Alastor's once more but this time… Vox seemed to freeze at what he saw on the other's face, his functioning eye growing wider at the scene as he finds himself suddenly holding his breath. 

He's distorted, glitching and reversing, sigils forming in the air behind him as his eyes look into Vox's. His neck twisted over to the side and eyes big, red, and ticking in a way that makes it seem that Alastor is just barely clinging to patience… like he could burst at any moment in a fit of claws and teeth and as Vox stares up at him, shocked, he can feel shivers run up his back as Alastor continues to hold his head in place. He's gentle but firm, refusing to let this go which was something Vox would also say to him..

To just forget it and move on but no, nonono.

Alastor refused not to be pissed and as far as he knew, he had worked to do..

People to punish, bitches to burn. 

“Who… Did this.. to you?” He says and with the way the room seems to shake it's clear that Alastor is not in fact asking but instead demanding to know. Vox can feel the bloodlust leaking off of the other demon, the fury he carries and Vox was sure that if he was anyone else in hell in that very moment that Alastor probably…wouldn't have hesitated to spill his blood and the ground he stood on. 

Vox recognized the look, his eyes slowly lowering again now while Alastor shifts his hand to caress the side of Vox's face, running his thumb over the undamaged side and though it's a kind gesture Vox can feel the way Alastor's hand seems to lightly shake. 

Vox makes a soft sound, something that he didn't make often and closes the gap between the two of them, wrapping his arms around Alastor and clinging to him and at first the taller of the two freezes at the reaction before slowly but surely… calming, at least as much as he could right now. 

It takes a moment for Alastor to immediately respond but Vox doesn't mind, not when he can feel how warm Alastor was and smell his scent so closely and after everything it seems to take some pressure off the TV demon. When Alastor does hug him back his hold is a bit firmer, a bit tighter, like he may get upset if Vox dares to pull away from him now. 

“Alastor, please…” Vox sighs softly,  brokenly and though Vox's voice box is fucked Alastor still makes out those words and the gentle way Vox seems to speak to him. 

“Please just…just leave it.” He says next, moving to bury his head in Alastor's chest and stepping in closer only to tumble forward onto a knee making Alastor jolt and quickly grip him closer before he finds himself in both of them. “Please let it go… I'll be okay, I'll recover. I always do don't I?” he says, practically begging the other man and Alastor feels his face twitch and he's never before more angry at his own curse for not being able to show just how upset he is right now. Yes of course he was sure Vox would be okay but he despised the idea of the other growing used to being treated this way by others...

“I'll be okay see?” Vox tries to convince the other or maybe… he's trying to convince himself now as he lifts his head and gives Alastor that silly, stupid smile again and it both annoys the deer demon but also convinces him enough to not leave right now and go hunt down however did this for there was all the time in the world to do such later. 

Vox had come to him at this time for a reason and even if the reason was simply because Vox had no one else Alastor didn't care. He'd help him just like he always did… and so with a huff Alastor looks down to Vox with that everlasting smile though it does seem strained. 

“Come inside… I'll take care of you.” He says and though Vox still feels guilty for showing up and possibly ruining Alastor's day with his appearance he also feels… grateful knowing Alastor was there just like he always was. So Vox gives in, sighing and nodding softly, gathering himself and getting to his feet and as Alastor holds the door wide open for him he trails in before the door closes back and snaps shut behind the two of them now allowing them to be alone together, where they were always guaranteed safety from the hellish world around them. 

Where Alastor could continue to keep a close eye on him for just a while longer. 

~

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #alastor x vox #alastor #viviz #hazbin hotel fandom #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #fanart #radiostatic #alastor the radio demon #vox x alastor #blurb #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #i will write almost anythin #writing commissions #please commission me #writing comms open #fanfic writing #writers of tumblr #writer for hire #writing #writeblr #hurt/comfort #fav ship

[moon-alight]

i like your previous update

One more request 🥺

When you unconscious during a fight

Because you overwork yourself

Hello! I hope you meant &Team otherwise this is awkward 😅 (Also, I like to overwork myself, it is my form of therapy lol 🤣)

Masterlist

&Team reaction to their s/o fainting during an argument

Warnings: fainting, bit of angst

Word Count: 1004

-K

-This guy is a hothead, alright, but he would see the signs you showed of feeling unwell or ill so he tried to be a bit less harsh

-But he did not realize you were so ill you would faint. Absolutely startled when he watched your body fall to the ground.

-Immediately by your side and trying to wake you up but is unsuccesful for the first couple minutes until you finally do

-Absolutely scolds you (with tears in his eyes) that you should take better care of yourself and how much you scared him

-Forgets whatever you two had fight over beforehand and hugs you tightly against him

-Fuma

-The argument was probably about you not taking enough care of yourself as he had watched you get worse and worse

-When he was trying to prove his point, you fainted and he felt his heart sink in his chest

-You would wake up on your bed with a wet cloth against your forehead and a glass of water on the nightstand with painkillers and a note

-'You are the most worrisome person in this world. Take the painkillers, drink some water, I'll be right home with food x'

-The cold was both nice and cold which did not make sense at all.

-Fuma would arrive minutes later with your favorite food so you could still talk things out while regaining energy

-Nicholas

-My man had never called 119 (Japanese Emergency Number) as fast as he had when you fainted during your argument

-Absolutely shaking and trembling when he explained to the help-line what had happened

-You'd wake up before the ambulance arrived but Nicholas made you stay on the ground as he knew you'd still be dizzy

-Stays by your side the entire time even when the doctor is checking you for your vital signs and blood pressue

-When you seem to be just fine (maybe low blood sugar) he hands you a coke and lets the doctors leave

-Clings to you afterwards and never lets go, afraid you'd faint again.

-EJ

-It was a mild argument but it was serious enough to talk about it inside the kitchen in the afternoon.

-He watched you hold onto the kitchen isle and frowned but did not say anything until he saw how weak you'd become

-Didn't let you faint and instead sat you down on a chair as he got a glass of water for you

-Would sit next to you, rubbing up and down your arm gently as he encourages you to drink a little

-You'd soon feel better but the argument was long forgotten. Ej's just glad you're okay now.

-Yuma

-I say this at every oportunity but Yuma is a hothead!

-Will not notice anything until you've completely blacked out

-He would stare at your unconscious body for a moment in pure shock before he scrambled to get his phone and call 119

-Explains to the emergency line what happened but begins to ramble and does not know how to stop because of the pure panic

-When the ambulance arrived and checked your signs (probably when you're awake) he just stood there and watched

-Would complain about how much you scared him afterwards and ask you to never push yourself to that point again

-Jo

-Again, I wholeheartedly believe you never end up in a bad fight

-But argument happen (even if he tries his best to avoid them) and you're trying to talk things out

-You'd feel terrible suddenly and tumbled to the ground

-Jo called Ej because he had no clue what to do and the poor boy was panicking

-Ej called an ambulance for ya'll and explained to Jo that he should get you some drinks and food for when you'd wake up

-When you're checked by the doctors and have consumed a bit of the food Jo had given you, he'd stare at you with teary eyes

-"I thought I'd lost you."

-Please hold this man

-Harua (this time I didn't forget, aha!)

-Ya'lls arguments are usually easily resolved so just when you two had apologized to one another, you'd feel a wave of nausea wash over you

-He watched it happen and screamed when you hit the ground

-Tried to shake you awake to no avail which is when the panic probably started to set in

-Didn't even think to call the emergency number because he was freaking out

-When you did wake up and asked him for a glass of water this guy returned with water, chocolate, an apple and three cans of coke

-Helped you up towards the couch and hugged you as if you'd disappear if he'd let you go

-Taki

-He was listening to you explaining your point of view of the argument when he noticed you'd act weird

-He called out for you but you did not respond. After a second, you fainted.

-Taki was happy it happened inside the dorms because he could call out to K who came over and calmed him down a little

-When you'd wake up, K would give you some water before he'd leave to give you some privacy.

-You were sure Taki had never hugged you as tight as he had in that moment and stroked your hair to remind himself you were okay

-Maki

-You'd been complaining about a headache all day which he was reminded of when you'd faint during the argument you two had

-He knew it wasn't healthy to not eat or stay hydrated when it was so warm during the day so he wasn't very surprised when your body shut down

-Still freaked out a little but got you some coke (with lots of sugar) and an apple before sitting by your side and stroking your hair

-You'd wake up confusedly and he'd help you sit up while explaining what had happened

-He'd make you drink the coke so you'd at least have a bit of sugar in your system before he'd scold you for being so reckless

#&team #&team drabbles #&team scenarios #&team imagines #&team fluff #&team headcanons #&team nicholas #&team k #&team ej #&team fuma #&team yuma #&team jo #&team harua #&team taki #&team maki

[the-faceless-bride]

Yandere 701 Headcanons

A/n: I haven't really gotten into all the boys in room 701, I will write for them soon I promise and that will be part two to this one, but for now it's only Jack, Legoshi, Collot, and Voss

Warnings: yandere behavior, reader is a herbivore {bunny type but is not fully said so, there for it can be any herbivore you would like} violence, threats, murderer, dark content, and Su•cide

🐺Legoshi❤️‍🩹

Yandere Type -> protective, worrisome, aware

How it started -> you were one of Haru's friends a sweet little thing in the gardening club. Now when he first started visiting the gardening club it was for Haru... But the more he saw you the more interested he became. So small, so soft and fluffy, and yet unafraid... So willing to stand up and get in others' faces whether they had fangs or not. You stood up for Haru quite a bit however Haru had always looked out for herself first and you never if not rarely got the same treatment from her, he felt you needed him...

🐺❤️‍🩹• Legoshi is very protective, he is ok with you going on your own, and he is alright with you having friends... (for the most part) however if you do go out he has to know several things first, where are you going? Who is going with you? What time will you be back? Are you coming back to him right after? Can he go? If not, why?

He wants you to be safe and wants to be the one to keep you safe, and if he deems it not safe for you, he either comes along whether you know it or not, or he doesn't let you go at all. Simple as that. It can go one of two ways, either he tries to make excuses as to why you can't go or explains how he already planned to take you out that night, or he just has to make a hard call and forces you to stay home even if he feels bad afterward.

🐺❤️‍🩹• Legoshi is very worrisome, he worries about everything all the time. Are you ok? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Cold? To warm? Maybe you'd like to go to the garden? Or maybe stay home with him? Have you eaten today? Does he do too much? Do you ever get bored of him?

He is worried that one day you'll decide you hate him and just run away; of course, he wouldn't just let you go, or more so he CAN'T let you go. It would tear his heat to shreds, he would have to force you to stay and then you would hate him and that would also hurt him but not as bad as you going away forever.

🐺❤️‍🩹• now Legoshi isn't delusional, and while he tries to justify what he is doing, telling himself that you need him and you don't always know what's best and that he only wants you to be loved, cared for, and protected he knows deep down that what he is doing isn't morally right.

But even then he tries to justify, saying that he IS a carnivore and they survive on feeding the flesh of others, so his existence isn't morally correct.

Deepest fear -> he is afraid of hurting you, not just accidentally scratching you, or pulling your ear a bit too hard. He means getting carried away and losing in his feelings that he devours you... Afraid that one day he will just snap and he'll clamp down on your soft neck... If he did that he would probably take himself out of this world out of guilt...

🐶Jack🐕‍🦺

Yandere Type -> worshiper, Clingy, Stalker

How it started -> he was being pushed around, being a dog that is known for being domesticated and weak he is always being pushed around by the bigger guys. But when a small little thing like you came to his aid, he swears you were a fluffy little angel, and while he was mocked for being saved by someone like you... He didn't even care. Not when butterflies, rose petals and star dust seemed to dance around your head.

🐶🐕‍🦺• Jack looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, you could tell him you made the earth and he would believe you. Anything you tell him he takes as truth with no questions and will defend your words no matter what. He doesn't care if what you said was wrong or what you said isn't true and he knows it, he gaslights himself into believing whatever you tell him. Once you say something no one can convince him otherwise not even his best friend legoshi...

🐶🐕‍🦺• Jack is very very very clingy... He has to be breathing the same air as you to be happy. He always has his hands on you. Not even in a sexual way. He just always has to be holding your hand, fluffing up your fur, petting your ears, and nuzzling up to you.

He doesn't care who is around, they can leave. Or sit there and watch. He doesn't care, he is already bullied for being him so what could be worse? Being called a simp? Or obsessed? Oh please, he's heard worse from his own mother.

🐶🐕‍🦺• Jack is always around you. Even when you think you're alone, you're not. Even before you were dating he watched you from afar, either just sneaking around your dorm room door, a bench at the park, or just following your car.

You've already shared many intimate experiences together and you just don't know it. He knows pretty much everything there is to know about you. He always tells you it was "just a hunch" when he 'guesses' the things you like when he does anything or gets anything for you. It wasn't a hunch he knew because he saw it...

Deepest fear -> you leaving him behind, one day you feeling suffocated by him to the point of loathing him and just packing your things and leaving him behind... It would shatter his soul. He would lose his sanity and would probably end up damaging himself, emotionally, mentally, and physically

🐶Collot🐩

Yandere Type -> delusional, playful, manipulative

How it started -> most girls flock to him, but he doesn't fully know why. But he isn't one to complain about the attention from pretty girls. However, that doesn't mean he exactly enjoys being labeled as this heartless playboy leaving a trail of broken hearts. He just likes to explore his feelings sometimes he feels a type of way about someone only for that feeling to drift and find a better feeling with someone else. He doesn't mean for it to seem like he is a heartless player but it comes across that way. You were very cute and very sweet but just seemed to have a sour taste about him. But that changed when you we being chased around by some boy rabbits trying to get you to go out with them, and in a moment to try and save yourself you found Collot and pretended to be dating so the boys would get scared of the large dog...

🐶🐩• he is quite delusional, he truly doesn't see what he is doing as wrong. To him it's just his feelings, everyone has feelings, and some are just more extreme... Right? He just doesn't get it.

But if you tried to explain it, he really wouldn't listen. He had never felt this way before how would you possibly know what was going on with him? He likes you, isn't that enough?

🐶🐩• Collot is very playful, he uses that to mask his unusual acts and way of thinking. For example the time he 'playfully' shoved Jack for standing a little too close to you. Or the time he jokingly told someone that if they let their hand get too close to your butt again he'd have to bite it off.

He again doesn't see anything wrong with these 'jokes' and he can always just blame when he gets to rough on him just being a big dog. And that's a bonus to him! while yes he is big and can be intimidating to anything smaller than him he is still a dog, and others still don't really take him seriously. He can get away with a lot.

🐶🐩• Collot is manipulative but unintentionally so, he is just really good at talking things into going his way. Thanks to his laid-back nature and seemingly unfazed aura, "yeah you can hang out with them, I mean that seemed a little grabby about you but if you really trust them don't worry about me. Go ahead and have fun, just text me once in a while yeah? Just so I know nothings happenin' to ya."

It's that kind of manipulation where he just makes you second-guess your choice of friends, and who you are in a moral sense.

deepest fear -> being pushed to the side because you find someone more alluring than him. Collot isn't a firm believer in karma and what comes around goes around, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't ditched someone he was talking to simply because he found someone he was more interested in. It wasn't maliciously, he is just a go with the flow 'it is what it is and shrugs-it-off kinda dog and he doesn't fully grasp the fact that not everyone is like that and his actions have caused others heartache in the past, and normally if someone he was talking to did the same to him he again would just shrug it off... But if you were to... He doesn't think he could just shrug it off.

🐶Voss🤏

Yandere Type -> Demanding, Clingy, possessive

How it started -> he again was being ignored for being one of the little guys, he asked three times for no pickles and he still. Got. Pickles. But no matter how angry he got or how much he told the guy he still didn't listen. But you overheard and stood up next to him and said "Excuse me! He said No. Pickles." you sassed the large carnivore and while Voss would normally be pissed at someone stepping into his business but... Seeing someone small like you being able to get sass one of the big guys and get away with it... It made him feel something he never had before...

🤏🐶• Voss is quite demanding in your relationship, but he is so small and cute that he kinda gets away with it. He is demanding in a way of always wanted to be around you and gets quite valgure when you don't let him.

He will shit-talk your friends, and he will ask you if you wish he was different, "do you wish I was taller?" "Oh I see, you just want me to be quiet and just sit in the background huh!" he isn't always mean, but he can be when he gets insecure.

🤏🐶• Voss is clingy, very clingy. He is always on you. Not holding your hand, not following you. He is ON you. You might be small but he is smaller, he is on your shoulder, and he won't get down. Voss just wants you to want him, he wants to be in your lap and just talk, and show you that he really likes you. More than he has ever liked anyone.

Even his friends were shocked at how clingy Voss was, while yeah he hung onto them but only when he needed to get around quick with them but he never clung to them like this, and while they think it's good he found a partner they don't think it's the healthiest.

🤏🐶• Voss doesn't want you being around ANYONE, he doesn't want you talking about interacting with anyone that isn't one of his close friends or you have to interact with them due to class or work reasons. He hates the idea of you not spending time with him and having fun with someone else.

Deepest fear -> being replaced. He is a small guy, he is always pushed to the back and is only ever seen when he is with someone bigger. He is afraid of you not finding him interesting anymore. Afraid you will see his as everyone else does. He just wants you to love and want him as much as he does you.

I hope you enjoyed, sorry I was away for so long. I have gotten back into beastars if anyone wants to ask for them 👉👈

#beastars x reader #beastars jack #beastars #beastars imagine #beastars legosi #yandere beastars x reader #beastars legoshi #beastars legoshi x reader #yandere legoshi #Beastars jack x reader #Yandere jack #yandere beastars #beastars room 701 #Beastars 701 x reader #Yandere beastars 701 #beastars collot #collot beastars x reader #collot x reader #Yandere collot #beastars voss #Voss x reader #Yandere voss x reader #room 701

[losttinwritings]

jealous, are we?

[Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Fem!Reader] [876 words]

SUMMARY: In which jealousy is the cause to expose yours and Rafe's secret relationship.

WARNINGS: Nope, except jealous Rafe.

A-N: This is not the other rafe fic im working on, as it's not done yet. I'm just focussing on editing my old mcyt fics at the moment. Also, again, this is #25 from my prompt list!

[masterlist]

It wasn't really your intention to keep yours and Rafe's relationship a secret from both your friends and his own. Especially considering you were a pogue, and he was a kook.

You knew you should have at least told them that you had been dating the kook boy for the past two months. So you could avoid this whole situation from happening. Yet, you both kind of just never found the right time to do so and just forgot to mention it to them. 

So now, Rafe sat there with his friends in the Wreck . His gaze locked directly to the furthest table away from him and onto your figure, focussing closely on where your figure sat. Attempting to ignore the guy sitting across from you, as his fists clenched together angrily down by his side. 

He watched as a small smile adorned careful features as you politely nodded your head along towards the conversation the other guy was having with you. You were simply unaware of the true intentions behind the guy talking to you. You had only even gone over there because your own friends had practically begged you to. 

He just knew the other guy was working on the courage to finally ask for your phone number soon. Especially remembering how he overheard your friend, Kie, mentioning how she'd noticed that the guy would constantly steal brief glances in your direction since he had entered the shop. 

Rafe wished he had stopped you from moving over there, as now he was paying the price for that. He blamed your best friend for making you leave her side. But maybe he should have expected this kind of thing to happen at some point. His friends (and yours) weren't even aware of him dating Y/n at that point in time. 

The kook forced himself to not audibly let out a huff in frustration, at the sight of you still over there. A mix of jealousy and anger pooling in the pit of his stomach, as he fought to not let it show how much this situation was bothering him. He did trust you. He knows he does. But the constant worrisome thoughts continued to linger in his mind.

What if you left him for someone better? 

What if you didn't love him anymore? 

What if…What if…

All these thoughts only began to annoy him further, and he knew a scowl must have settled onto his features as of now. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take you sitting over there all friendly and laughing with him.

Abruptly, he stood up from where he sat, catching the attention of both Topper and Kelce nearby. His fists were still clenched tightly at his sides, as his friends looked on in confusion at him.

"Are you okay, Rafe?" Topper asked, but his question remained unanswered as both he and Kelce watched the boy in question storm off.

Both spotted his retreating form till they followed his gaze, and they landed on where you sat now, and that's when it clicked for them. That he was jealous. Why? They weren't sure. 

Meanwhile, Rafe landed beside his pogue girlfriend, who had now noticed him walk up to the table. Your eyes widened a little, as you were suddenly pulled from where you had previously been sitting.

You watched his eyes, in confusion for a moment before he was pulling you from your seat, and you felt his lips fall onto your own. Which you didn't even hesitate to reciprocate in the slightest. 

The boy, most likely a touron, as Rafe didn't recognise him, who sat across from you, in surprise managed to stutter out a few apologies and scurried off out of sight.

You and Rafe now pulled away once he had left you two, embarrassed. You felt your smile widen a little now. Each kiss you both shared still always managed to leave you breathless and in pure bliss every time. 

"Jealous, are we?" Your smile quickly changes into a small smirk, once you remembered how he had stormed over here moments before. Your hands entangling together around his neck and your eyes connecting with his own. 

"No." Rafe lied, but it was obvious from his features to you that he was. His head is now finding its way to bury into the crook of your neck. His jealousy was slowly fading from where it had formed now. A smile on his face finally managed to replace the anger that had previously overcome him.

"But hey, kook or not, at least everyone knows now that you're mine." He nodded, both of you glancing back in the direction of Topper, and Kelce still sat at the table behind you, shocked.

Then, peeking over at Kiara, who also looked in an equal state of shock, from where she was behind the counter, not expecting for you to be dating the kook prince.

#fanfiction #imagines #angst #fluff #x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks x reader #outer banks

[treasureofmammon]

(English isn't my native language, sorry for any mistake)

You asked for requests- well, lately, i can't take a MC who has many siblings (6-7) out my mind. They're at RAD, everyone getting ready for an important event. They get a call saying thay their eldest brother (who is kinda like Lucifer) suffered a car accident and all the siblings have to be there bc they don't know if he will make it. It went like

-you can't go, the event-

Mc:My brother was only 18 when our parents died and he had to take care of all of us, the company, and solve all the legal problems. I wasn't asking to go, I'm saying I'm going.

Anyway, you don't have to do it. Have a nice day/night ♡♡ drink water

I was feeling uninspired, but many of you gave me great ideas when I asked. Here is Anon's idea: an MC with a lot of brothers, their situation is similar to the Seven rulers of the Devildom, but then, a tragedy strikes.

🖤 It's not optional 🖤

👥️Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor + Solomon + MC (gn!reader) + OG MC's family.

⚠️Warnings: Angst, parental figures, siblinghood (is that a word?), fluff. I took A LOT of creative liberty.

📝 Note: Anon, I hope that this is of your liking. It took me some time to actually write this one; it was a special and cute challenge. Thank you for sharing!

✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️

You looked up to your bedroom's ceiling, feeling a sting in your stomach, an itch that doesn't go away, a rare premonition. You have always had those since you were a child, especially when something bad it's about to happen; but, for some reason, they've become stronger and clearer since you arrived here, in the Devildom.

Now you know beforehand when Mammon's "entrepreneur" adventures are going to fail, although to no avail as he does whatever he wants anyway. Or when Lucifer is getting so somnolent at his desk that he'll drop asleep and spill his coffee on the papers. Or when Satan is trying to get a special tome from his messy piles of books, making them fall and get trapped under thousands of them. Or when Beel is so hungry, he might destroy the kitchen or, worse, the whole house.

But none of those premonitions feel like today's. It's been days since your human world phone doesn't ring. Your oldest brother won't call. At first, you thought it was a relief since he has the horrible habit of calling you twice or thrice on the same day; but now it feels worrisome.

One day, you were secretly eating ice cream in the kitchen, and seconds later, you were in front of a group of intimidating and very hot men. And your brother knew. Of course he did. He just was so busy with work that he forgot to mentioned that he signed off your request for an exchange student program that you so much wanted to experience, and that he got a call that week that you were accepted. Obviously, none of you were expecting it to be in literal hell. And yet, he didn't mention it: not a warning, not a comment, not even a word.

As you feel yourself drowsy under the moonlight coming parted through your bedroom window, you remember your siblings. You know that your eldest brother wasn't always like that: a dictator, a nosy young man, a general in charge of his six little bratty siblings. No. He once was a refreshing young adult, responsible yes, but free. He would ride his motorcycle with his babe hugging him tightly on the back, and feel the sea ​​breeze; or party in College and then wake up ready for a chemistry exam that he'd destroyed with a 100%; or organize a movie night at home on summer break with you all, piling up a bunch of pillows and bedsheets until you 7 had the living room completely transformed into a fort just to watch Mulan for the nth time that month.

But he changed. He changed that exact summer break actually: he left school, sold his motorcycle, broke up with his significant other and all that just to raise you, to raise all 6 of you. After all, he was barely 18 when your mom and dad died, and he had to take care of you all.

He could have called that day that you were inadvertently teleported to the Devildom, but he forgot because he had a stack of paperwork that he needed to finished before his boss (who, by the way, you like to call Mr. McCrankyPants since you were eight years old), threatened to fire him again.

As it sinks in, you feel your heart squeeze. You reach your human world cellphone, but it rings before you grab it. Your second eldest brother is calling you. The coincidence would have scared you before if it wasn't so regular now. So, with tranquility, you answer the phone and hear with attention what you already sort of knew: —MC?—, a sniff and a broken voice —Big brother was on a car accident—.

Lucifer calls you out: —No! No! You can't go to the human realm! I understand your situation, but Lord Diavolo gave us explicit orders to keep you safe in the House of Lamention, so I'm afraid we- —. You interrupt him with a defeated face, you look up to Lucifer and say honestly —You can't understand, do you Luci? After all, you're the oldest...—. You direct your gaze back to your suitcase, filling it up quickly with mainly clothes and some personal items.

—What do you mean?—, Lucifer asks. His brothers are all in the threshold of your bedroom door, watching you prepare to leave, hearing the discussion, setting the mood with their sadden faces.

—Because you've never had anyone to give his all for you. Rather, it's always you who carefully takes care of your brothers. But not the other way around... If you did have someone, you'd understand—.

Lucifer stays silent. Of course, he understands. Of course, he used to have someone, too. However, he won't say because, as of now, he looks at his brothers, all of them amazed by your words, all of them touched by your sensibility, all of them understandably empathetic.

So a long pause fills the house, until Mammon breaks the silence —I get it—, he says with a rare serious tone that always surprises his brothers —Let'em leave, it's until the matter it's settle, right?—. Lucifer sighs, —No, we have clear orders that...—. Annoyed, Mammon cuts out Lucifer's words: —Clear orders? The heaven with that shit, Lucifer. If it was ya, I...—, but Mammon shuts himself up, biting his lower lip.

—Mammon is right, but... how long is it gonna be?— Beel asks with a sad puppy face.

—Exactly, it might be way too long. It's better if you stay here and wait for news at home..., with us—, Belphie adds.

—We will be here for you, hon—, Asmo says with a worried face expression.

—You'll always have us for you, MC— adds Satan.

—And we can play video games to keep you distracted if that helps—, Leviathan suggests.

You close your suitcase and make your way out of your bedroom to the house's entry. The brothers don't stop you. They just watch. At the main door, Solomon awaits. —Solomon! If you take them there, I swear...— Lucifer shouts. Although Solomon ignores Luci as he places his hand gently on your shoulder and chants a spell.

—MC?— Asmo calls out for you one last time. You look back and smile at them.

— You know, boys? My brother was only 18 when our parents died, and he had to take care of all of us, get a crappy job, stop his studies, solve any legal problems, and pay the mortgage. Now he needs me. I wasn't asking for permission to go, I'm saying I'm going. It's not optional... Wouldn't you do the same for Lucifer?—. And with that, a blueish light surrounds you and Solomon in a circle, and before you know it, you're back in the human realm.

The hours at the hospital are dready boring. While your big brother sleeps in a coma, his lungs breathe artificially thanks to the machine at his left. You just sit at his side, although he's unconscious, you tell him all sorts of jokes and adventures from back in the Devildom. You thank him for his existence and pleading, you ask him to be strong. A roller coaster of emotions that has been going on for days now, not only for you but for all your other 5 siblings.

As for this right moment, you breathe in and out, grounding yourself like the nurse suggested, focusing on the stains on the hospital room's ceiling. Until you hear a familiar voice: —Have you tried with the healing spell I taught you?—. Quickly, you look back, —Satan?! No, everyone! What are you guys-—. But you don't finish your question, because this time is Lucifer who interrupts you: —We couldn't let you go unprotected, and worse, mad at us.—, he smiles sincerely and you feel as if half of your family was there now. A weight lifts from your shoulders and your eyes water. —Solomon, did you bring them here? Thank you—.

Solomon smiles: —Who knows? Maybe I did, or maybe I found them in the human realm already—, he finishes with a wink.

Worried, you try to ask them: —But without Lord Diavolo's permission...—.

—Doncha worry about it—, Mammon assures you and continues —So, have ya tried with Satan's spell?—.

You look down and pout, —Y-yes. But it didn't work—.

—I see...—, Lucifer says and then commands to his brothers —if that's how it is, then, everyone: you know what to do—.

Gently, Asmo holds your hand and helps you stand up from the uncomfortable chair; then, he places you in front of your brother's bed, with your back to them. That's when you feel it: 7 hands on your back. A warm energy suddenly runs through your body, and tears come down your cheeks. It's their magic powers being transferred to you briefly.

—Come on, MC— Solomon orders, watching from the side —... give it another try—.

Crying, you chant —May the vestiges of pain that linger within the person before me be eliminated. I am the one they call MC... Hear my command!—.

You sniff, tears escaping your pretty eyes, as you wait, expecting, praying to whatever there's to pray that it works. Only seconds, but they feel like eternities. Until your brother's eyes are finally open, although confused. You gasp thankful for the miracle, and you make a mental note to thank each of your 7 lovely demons and teacher. You know that you will reward each of them after. There will be time.

For now, you hold your big brother's hand tightly, looking at him as if he hanged the moon and the stars, crying of happiness. But all he says is: —MC? Why are you crying? Are you ok?—. As always, you're the priority in his mind.

✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️🖤🌟✨️

[Note; The character(s) depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me: Treasure of Mammon, meaning this is fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].

📌 Masterlist

#Treasure of Mammon writing #Treasure of Mammon asks #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me mc #obey me x gn!reader #obey me gn!reader #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me lore

[lets-try-some-writing]

I've eaten up all your feral!Orion content and it's SO GOOD!! Do you...have any thoughts on feral!Orion and Megatronus???

I do love me some feral Orion. So of course here is some more for you dear anon!

Previous part here.

The Terror of the Pits

Megatronus met Orion in a rather simple way. Orion Pax came down from the upper echelons of Iacon to ask him some questions about his ideals and beliefs. While not normally something he would entertain, Orion had a look in his optics that Megatron knew well, the gaze of a hunter. Thus, intrigued with the archivist, he allowed an audience... then two... then three... and before long he was having bi deca-cycle meetings with the head archivist.

Orion was well educated in all manners and knew far more than he likely should have about anatomy, methods of making mecha "disappear", and how to get out of arrests and assault charges. Not only that, but Megatronus noted nearly immediately the fanged denta the archivist had and the slightly clawed digits that he sported. At first he thought them mods or upgrades made for appearances sake, but upon meeting Ratchet around the time Orion began associating with him regularly, those thoughts went out the window.

He watched on in total bewilderment as Orion went from normal mech™ to possessive nightmare fuel straight from the deepest pits of Cybertron in under a Klik whenever Ratchet turned up. Orion did not play games when it came to his medic and Megatronus was quick to stay the frag away from any action that Orion saw as a threat. He was there to observe the archivist nearly shred a gladiator after the mech in question made an inappropriate comment toward Ratchet and since that cycle he never again judged Orion based off his appearance and kept himself in line.

Ratchet was off limits and that was fine in Megatronus's book. Orion was a good companion and grew to be an excellent aid in his efforts. Thus he could easily overlook a little hyper aggression on the archivist's part. He was content to merely observe Orion's little habits and keep himself out of them, however he should have known that as his and Orion's friendship grew stronger, so would Orion's tendency to act out of the norm.

It was small things at first, a simple lingering touch here, a slight growl there, and the odd instance of Orion stepping in front of him almost protectively. That was it for a while and despite being odd, it was nothing worthy of much note. They were friends and gladiators tended to behave similarly when they felt the need to make a point. Of course then Orion seemed to get bolder and those small things evolved into something more.

Next thing Megatronus knew, Orion followed him fragging everywhere when he was in the pits visiting. The archivist was not as tall as him, but Primus his field made up for the lost height easily. Orion took no slag and made himself to be Megatronus's personal guard even though it was completely unneeded. The younger mech was not afraid to size up gladiators nearly double his size nor did he hesitate to begin growling and making a show of himself with flared plating when he felt Megatronus was in any sort of danger.

It was odd, very much so. However when asked Ratchet simply shrugged and offered the truth like it wasn't the strangest thing of the century.

Megatronus: Why is he like this? Is he perhaps malfunctioning?

Ratchet: No, not at all. He's just got active base coding.

Megatronus: Orion Pax? The archivist? Who hurt him badly enough to have him acting on base coding?

Ratchet: No one. According to Alpha Trion he came straight from the wilds and the coding has just stuck.

Megatronus: Then all this-?

Ratchet: Its a sign that he cares. You get used to it.

It was worrisome at first, but Megatronus let it be. Orion could be as wild as he wished so long as he didn't cause any wars or civil unrest. Thus Megatronus also overlooked the scratches that were most decidedly not from battle that he found carved onto his back almost as boldly as a "kick me" sign. He got a bit of mockery for it from his fellows, but that mockery quickly evaporated like smoke when his archivist threw himself into the arena during a particularly tense fight and practically mauled Megatronus's opponent.

Orion was downright feral as he latched on and dug into his enemy with enough strength to have Megatronus considering weather or not Orion was a civilian or not. Of course what terrified him most was how Orion's mouth seemed to open far larger than it should have as he bit down on the other gladiator's neck all while his optics widened so impossibly that it was frightening. It took three separate mecha to get Orion off Megatronus's opponent and even then it also took Ratchet to calm Orion down enough to peel him off where he had practically welded himself to Megatronus's side.

Orion Pax was from then on known as a terror in the pits not to be trifled with. Not a spark dared go anywhere near Megatronus with anything but pure intent when Orion was around simply because there were also a few incidents reported to him by Soundwave of Orion hunting certain mecha down to leave ominous dead things on their porches.

It just kept escalating as their friendship grew and eventually Megatronus grew to appreciate the little things Orion did. He liked the way Orion wrapped his field around him and he greatly enjoyed the random gifts Orion brought. They were always a tad ridiculous, but he was proud to weave the bits of plating Orion collected from his foes into a charm that he wore when he wanted to make a statement. And while a little more irritating, it was rather humorous to have Orion go out of his way to bring Megatronus his energon for him and only after checking for contamination.

It was almost like he had his own attack dog, but Orion was far too clever to be awarded such a pathetic title. No, with the way he would hunt down those he thought wronged Megatronus with a vengeance? He deserved the title of Terror of the Pits.

In the end Megatronus took great pride in painting Orion's armor a few vorns after their meeting and proclaiming him an honorary gladiator with how often he somehow managed to kick the afts of his fellows during spars. Orion was a challenge the gladiators liked to face and Orion was always calmer after getting down on all fours and going wild against the heavily armored gladiators who could take a great deal more of a beating than the soft little city mecha.

Good times.

Megatronus never forgot those simple days and had a great deal of fun making bets with Ratchet regarding who Orion would fight and who would win. Ratchet usually won, but Megatronus told himself it was because Ratchet had known Orion longer.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #ratchet #megatron #feral orion pax #orion pax #pre war cybertron #gotta love the feral little critter #he just wants to keep his people safe #and if that means leaving ominous messages written in energon on his enemies walls then so be it #Ratchet is so tired of it all he doesnt even care anymore #Meanwhile megatronus is having the time of his life sending orion in to beat up his fellows

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Tender | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader with chronic fatigue

✦ word count— 3.6k

✦ summary— snippets of life with chronic fatigue while dating Damian.

✦ warnings— light angst, depictions of chronic illness/disability, mentions of food, nudity implied in a non-sexual context, mentions of meds and doctors, fluff.

✦ author's note— this fic was comissioned through donation.

════════════════════════

Rain hadn't made its appearance this month; worrisome for a city like Gotham where rain seemed to be a permanent fixture.

You couldn't remember a night without rain in the past three years, or such a hot morning for that matter. So this was a first in a long time, therefore you were somewhat unprepared.

It was your fault for not checking the weather app the night before and it was the climate's fault for not giving you a truce. Although if you were to go there, we all knew the actual people responsible for the changing climate — for most problems, to an extent.

You left the bed slowly, trying not to make noise. Damian was awake already, probably training, yet you didn't want him to know you were too.

His help was always welcomed, and treasured, and he gave it with joy and ease. You hadn't imagined he would be as thoughtful or patient — you knew him to be kind, definitely nicer than he pretended to be, but this was different.

He took it so seriously, too, consulting people whose actual job was to be caregivers had been his first move and you were a tad ashamed to admit it shocked you. A part of you had wanted him to do it, but you expected him to simply read a book and go from there. And read he did, but he didn't stop there; you didn't understand how at the time.

You understood why: he loved you. But the how was elusive with everything he had on his shoulders. It would have been so easy for him to simply pay somebody to take care of you and go on with his routine, but it seemed that the thought never crossed his mind.

Showers were a little easier now that you lived with him and got to use a bigger bathroom. You tried not to rely on the shower bench too much in the mornings, partially scared you would get sleepy too early.

Damian was back from training by the time you were about to choose a pair of shoes. His hair was damp and apart from his shoe-less feet, he was ready for work too.

"You should still take a jacket."

"I hate carrying things around."

He pinched his nose. "I will take it with me, then." At your questioning look, he added, "I will be picking you up from work today."

"You don't have to. Caroline likes driving me home."

Caroline was your favorite coworker and it wasn't just because she would eat lunch with you and drive you home from work. She was just pleasant to be around, never overbearing when it came to your symptoms, and the only one who kindly woke you up after your scheduled naps.

Damian sat next to you on the grey loveseat. He picked up the top you had decided against and folded it, something you had never been able to do without a surface. "I just want you to be ready for Friday."

"I am ready, Damian."

"Fine." He leaned to kiss the side of your head.

════════════════════════

You sometimes wondered if driving was really all that fulfilling. It seemed stressful from the passenger seat. Or maybe those were your nerves speaking.

Turns out you weren't ready for your medical appointment on Friday.

"Do you want me to go in there with you?"

"I think so."

You knew how lucky you were that you had a partner who was willing to do this, somebody who cleared his schedule for your comfort. Damian must have been aware that doctors took him more seriously than they did you, or that they only believed the things you said once he corroborated them or added more details.

He opened the door for you and offered his hand to help you out of the car. You took it without a second thought, not trusting yourself or the wonky pavement underneath.

Damian rested his hand on your lower back, steadying you as your wobbly legs carried you into the building.

Bouts of pain generally made their appearance when you had appointments. Out of stress, the doctor explained. It made sense, but along came drowsiness and you wished you could simply skip one appointment or two from time to time.

Of course you never said as much. It would be pointless, honestly; Damian would simply force the doctor to see you at home and the same stress, drowsiness, and overall tiredness would keep their chokehold on you.

You always spoke more when Damian was there, and when you struggled to remember something, he filled in the blanks. He carried your tracker with him, and the diary he had started on his own for good measure. The doctor always asked if he was taking care of himself too — you used to hate the question, seeing it as a reminder that you didn't really do a good job taking care of him in comparison to what he did for you; it took a long tearful conversation with Damian for you to understand he would always ask for attention if you weren't doing a good job at providing it.

"We have different needs," he had said in that incredibly infuriating yet attractive matter-of-fact tone of his.

The elevator traveled up smoothly, barely rattling when it landed on your floor. Damian let you out first and as quickly as you crossed the doors, his hand was already back on your body. It was almost a reflex of his, he did it even when you weren't in pain, a simple 'I'm here'.

You sighed in relief as you kicked your shoes off. As comfortable as they were, they were still restricting. Damian put the keys on the console table and before you could sit on the bench next to the table, he wrapped an arm around you and coaxed you into your shared bedroom.

The sheets had been changed that morning. The faint aroma of fabric softener lingered just enough to avoid a headache. Your sleeping clothes were neatly folded on the bench in front of the bed, with the basket Damian always kept full of snacks and where he hid notes for you to find.

His notes varied from encouraging words to doodles. with fragments of poems in between both extremes. You had taken the habit of texting short messages to him in return, sometimes silly things when you knew he would have a stressful day; other times reminders of how much loved him.

Your text chain would be incomprehensible for anybody but yourselves. You liked them. You liked that despite everything, you had that silly thing to laugh about, something mundane just for you and him.

Eyeing the clothes, you twisted your mouth. Your back was killing you. "Would you... help me?"

Damian dropped his cell phone onto the bedside table, still unlocked, white glare signaling he was in the middle of drafting an e-mail. "Hold onto something."

You did so, letting him take care of the rest. Not only did he take your pants off, which was the most painful part of getting changed this particular day, but guided your legs into a pair of cotton sleeping shorts one by one. You didn't even ask him help with your top yet Damian gently sat you on the bed and instructed you to lift your arms so you could wear your matching set.

Both of you undid the bed, he let you arrange your pillows to your need and only went back to pick his cell phone back up once you assured him you were comfortable. He handed you the remote, placed a bottle of water near you, and sat on his desk chair to continue whatever it was he was doing.

Your eyes grew heavy about 10 minutes into an episode of a show you started the past week. You had hoped you would hold on a little longer, maybe until Damian had to go.

"I will be back soon," Damian announced softly, prescription in his hand. "Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Some kind of dessert?"

He approached the bed. You braced yourself for a chastising reminder that you ate too much sugar sometimes. Damian leaned in and kissed your temple. "Take a nap, beloved, get some rest. I will wake you up when it's time for dinner."

════════════════════════

Some days, a dull ache woke you up, and trying to move became a whole odyssey. Breathing exercises worked well enough to give you the drive to try it again, but that didn’t mean you were always successful.

Others, you left the bed just fine just to find yourself needing to lay down an hour or so into your day.

Today, the sun was up in full, threading into the bedroom through the only slither left by the curtains. You had already texted your boss earlier to let them know you couldn’t go to work. You didn’t know if they had answered already or not.

You could hear pencil against paper, meaning Damian was sketching near the window.

“You’ll be late,” you reminded him.

He didn’t stop sketching as he answered, "I’m not going. My girlfriend is more important than a stupid meeting."

“Bruce—”

The mention of his father made him sigh, interrupting you. “He wishes for you to feel better soon.”

You grumbled. Both of them were as stubborn and you weren't about to waste your energy on fighting either of them right now.

“Do you want to change position?”

“I want to pee.”

Damian dropped the sketchbook and the pencil onto the sofa and walked toward the bed. Wordlessly, he helped you up and off the mattress.

You slowly made it to the bathroom, turning the light on just to be sure you wouldn't fall.

“Don’t close the door.”

“I know, Dami.”   You had been here many times before. He was always helpful, if not a little overbearing when it came to movement which you understood and often made things genuinely bearable.

Back on the bed, you drank water from your bottle.

Damian gave you that look that meant he wanted to say something yet knew it wasn't the time. You decided not to ask and laid down once again.

He handed you the remote in case you wanted to watch something, but the only thing you wanted was to sleep for a day or two.

Such an urge wasn't new, but you were kind enough to yourself not to ignore it when you could barely leave the bed.

"You should eat something."

There it was.

"Later," you pleaded.

You could almost hear him deflate. Still, Damian kissed your cheek and went back to the sofa, letting you try and get some sleep.

He would insist again later, no matter what you did, and you would probably get away with just having a smoothie. But you kept that to yourself, not only needing sleep out of tiredness but as a manner to pass the time.

Damian knew as much, he also knew there was nothing more he could do right now to help so he and his stubbornness focused on the sketch and only paused to watch you breathe.

════════════════════════

Panic coiled in Damian's stomach. Waking up to an empty bed at 5:00 in the morning was not only uncommon and worrisome, but one of his worst nightmares.

He always feared you would wander around the condo in the middle of the night only to fall asleep in an uncomfortable place or position, perhaps in pain, or both.

He padded his way along the hallway and checked the home office first. Your untouched desk, still donning the big water bottle he got you so you wouldn't use homework as an excuse for dehydration, wasn't as good of a sign as he hoped.

You weren't in any of the other bedrooms, nor the training room. He considered calling your parents, and as if you had visited them in the middle of the night; it wasn't insane to think you would miss your family. Yet his stomach sunk at the mere thought.

Had he done something wrong? Everything had been just fine before he left for patrol, you had even joked you would be awake waiting for him this time even though both of you knew you wouldn't last more than needed. He never expected such things from you, he didn't need them, a part of him didn't even want them because they would mean putting your health in jeopardy.

Damian found you in the kitchen. Sat on your stool, with your head tilted to the side and your mouth half-open, you read something on your phone.

He cleared his throat, but it didn't have its intended effect and you jumped. Your tired eyes bore into his and Damian almost sighed out of relief.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"It's Nicole's birthday."

He hummed. "You told me yesterday."

"I'm making her a cake. We have everything I need. Well, that's not true, but I can order everything else when the store opens and—" you interrupted yourself, frowning. You didn't like the way he was looking at you. "What?"

Inhaling deeply, he leaned his elbows on the island. Your eyes were on him and he would rather die than admit he was scared of upsetting you. He should have been past it, but he didn't know what to do sometimes. He couldn't simply forbid you from doing things, no matter how easy it might have made some situations in the long run.

"Wouldn't it be too extraneous?"

"Damian." Your 'are you fucking kidding me?' tone did nothing to placate him. "We have a stand mixer."

Right. The bulky ugly thing in the corner. He didn't mind having appliances on the countertops, no matter how bad they looked, it made things easier for you and that was all that mattered. He just specifically found the stand-mixer ugly.

"Just don't lift the bowl," he said, doing his best to not sound defeated. Your face lit up like a child who had just gotten just what they wanted for their birthday. "Call me when you're about to pour the batter. I'll do it."

Damian heard you opening and closing drawers and cupboards as he trained and although he paid more attention to the changing sounds than to what he was doing, he ended up drenched in sweat.

On his way to take a shower, he caught a snippet of the song you were humming as you moved around the kitchen and he could only hope your good spirit could last at least until noon.

The difficult parts never bothered him, nor doing the bulk of the work around the place. It wasn't like he did everything, the cleaning service came three times a week and you always left things as tidy as possible. But even if he had to do it all, he wouldn't be bothered.

He felt normal like this, useful. He liked doing things for you just like he had liked doing things for his mother when he was a child. Back then he thought that was what a man was supposed to do, protect, and provide to an extent. He didn't seek gender affirmation anymore, and he knew now he hadn't done anything for his mother out of a manly instinct; he simply loved her.

Much like he loved you albeit in a different way. Damian couldn't fathom himself without loving you, without being there for you. He had been born to fight and he had been reborn to care for you.

It wasn't always easy, he was the first to admit it. He didn't know what it was like to be in your shoes, he had no idea the kind of pain you were in or how heavy the fatigue you had to bear on your shoulders felt. He just hated that he couldn't take any of it away, that as much help as he could give, there should have been something more to do.

He grew tired sometimes. And you were oh so sweet about it, telling him to get some rest, pretending you didn't need help to get out of bed in the middle of the night just so he would go back to sleep. But Damian only slept well when you were comfortable, when things were normal to the standards you both had accorded.

At first, he had planned on being as strict as possible, to take care of everything so you wouldn't have to do anything. It didn't last. He couldn't live with the guilt that washed over him every time your face fell when he stopped you from doing something.

Learning to compromise had been the hardest thing he had done. And now here he was, about to bake a cake with you because it was your best friend's birthday.

He would do anything you asked him. It was a well-known fact about him. That meant indulging you sometimes, accepting things his brain told him weren't a good idea.

The loud stand-mixer greeted him back into the kitchen. You had a spatula in your hand, attention solely on the rotating flat beater.

"What were you going to do if I weren't here?"

You didn't speak until the mix was fully incorporated and the mixer was off. "Use a spoon."

"A spoon."

"Yes. Scoop little by little..."

He chuckled. "You are precious."

════════════════════════

"Take a break."

Damian had already walked away from you when you lifted your head to face the doorway. It wasn't an uncommon interaction. If you could call it as such.

Before you could even think to stand up, he was back with an unbreakable glass full of water. He set it on your desk, knowing full well you got nervous when people handed you things.

"I'm never finishing this," you sighed in frustration.

He stared at you, then at the glass. Once you picked the glass up and took a sip, he spoke, "Is it too difficult?"

"I can't focus. I'm not even halfway into the stupid paper, but I feel weird."

"Weird?"

"Like there's static in my head."

He nodded as though he understood. You both knew he didn't, not really.

"When is it due?"

"Monday."

You knew what he was thinking, 'What kind of professor would ever do that?' and the answer was quite simple: your least favorite professor.

Instead of asking anything about the awful faculty member of your college, he said, "We could do it this weekend."

"I'm not letting you do my homework."

"I have no intentions of doing your homework. I will help you focus, you will do it yourself."

"I had plans for our weekend."

He looked at you as though you had grown a second head. Plans weren't really a thing for both of you, not in the strict sense — a routine was needed, and medical appointments were non-negotiable, but apart from that, the mere idea of making plans was avoided.

"That movie you said looked interesting is on VOD. I thought we could watch it."

He visibly relaxed. Crisis averted. "We can watch it once your homework is done."

"You have things to do at night."

"Before patrol, beloved." Damian put his hand on your shoulder, leaning into your personal space to rest his head on top of yours as he continued making plans, "We will do your homework then take a nap, have lunch, watch the movie..."

You welcomed his touch, pressing your back to the chair just to have him a little closer. "Yeah?"

He hummed, nuzzling into your hair. "It will be a good weekend."

════════════════════════

Damian ignored your greeting as he crossed the bedroom to enter the bathroom. You heard the water running and decided to let it go, going back to the notes you had taken earlier. You had a note-taking system now, after many trials and errors, but that didn't mean things always stuck.

In all honesty, you were doing your best not to fall asleep. Between the sound of the water and the cozy blankets you were under, the words started to jumble. Your heavy eyes were begging to close and you almost gave in, but the bathroom door opened and Damian caught your attention again.

He sat on the bed, glanced at your notes, then turned to the side to put his phone to charge.

"Bad day?"

"Terrible."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He laid on his back, facing the ceiling.

You couldn't help the sigh that escaped you. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just be here."

You removed your notes from the bed. "I'm here."

He shifted to rest his head on your shoulder. The conversation was over. The awareness that came with living with him was different from anything you had experienced before, and his vulnerability was different than anyone else's.

You didn't think he was scared of it, not when it came to you, but he wasn't fond of it either. It wasn't difficult to see why. But you liked how it manifested, almost as second nature.

You almost cried the first time he swallowed his pride and admitted he couldn't understand what you were going through. He saw it, he paid attention to it, but he couldn't feel it. And it was so worth it, enough for you to understand truly what you meant to him.

If Damian was somebody else, or if he loved you any less, that would have been the first and the last time he admitted to not knowing everything.

You took his hand, bringing it close to your face. You kissed his bruised knuckles, careful not to move the bandage.

He sighed. Damian shuffled on the bed to lay on his side, head on your shoulder as he let you hold his hand for as long as you wanted.

Putting your free hand on the back of his head, you buried your fingers into his damp hair. He nuzzled into you, barely humming to assure you he was comfortable.

For the first time in your entire relationship, he fell asleep before you.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x plus size reader

[itzgruvia]

Gruvia Week 2024:

Day 1: Laughter.

type: soft/comfort, warm, fluff, attempt at humor.

characters: Gray and Juvia, a slight mention of Cana, Gildarts and Macao, and little bit of levy.

this fic is also posted in AO3

Gray likes to joke around, he loves to tease his friends most of the time by cracking jokes or using his sarcastic humour, he doesn't want to admit and say that his jokes are better than Natsu, but judging by the reactions of their guildmates, he could admit just a tiny bit that his humour is better.

And Gray is not boosting himself up, this is coming from an objective perspective not his, because in the end of the day Gray doesn't care if he makes his friends laugh or not, if he finds the situation funny, he'll just use it as an opportunity to crack himself up or to humiliate Natsu, which works everytime.

does he enjoy making his friends laugh? no, not really, or maybe? he doesn't know but he doesn't make an effort to spark the joy around them, that's not his thing it's usually Lucy's.

However, there is an exception where he drops the cold and serious demeanor and tries to elevate the mood.

Juvia is the exception and while he yet does not realise the reason why he tries to goof around her more than usual, he just focuses on that bright smile that appears on her face. 

but that realization hit him today and it was quite a hit.

they were on their usual morning routine in the Guild main room, everyone was minding their own business, an unusual and rare moment ( because Natsu and Gajeel aren't around), but Gray would take it any day than losing his cool and fight without sense.

so he was enjoying the quiet ambience and of course Juvia was besides him, knitting some hat for him, although he told her he doesn't need it but her stubborn self exclaimed:" nonetheless Gray-sama! Juvia will impress you with her knitting skills! she has improved over the months".

he can tell by how many bandages were wrapped on her fingers on both hands, he is worried that she might hurt herself if she doesn't tune down her excitement.

and even if he tells her that, she wouldn't listen to him because she will delude herself with 'Gray-sama's worrisome is like medicine to me!' nonsense and it's too early in the morning for Gray to hear that.

so he just enjoyed the silence between them while she focused on her threads.

Few minutes ticked by and he can sense the frustration coming from the water mage next to him, he glanced to his side and noticed the -cute- frown and her hands tightly holding her straight needles.

her hands worked their way through the confusing loops of threads, their movement were shilly shally, not knowing how to continue the work, suddenly her hands stopped working and she dropped the craft on the table disappointedly.

she sighed.

" it didn't work out?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"No" she replied, her shoulders were hunched and her frown was still in her face, Gray doesn't know why he feels annoyed at her dejected expression but he felt the urge of making her feel better.

and what's best than making her laugh? ( also because he doesn't know how to comfort people and he is afraid he might ruin Juvia's mood by trying)

he scanned the guild for a potential target to use them for his humour and saw Cana dazed on the bar, her head between her arms, completely passed out, it is very unnatural for Cana to not express her love to her barrel of wine at his time, but Gray knows the reason.

"So Cana is not herself today", he nodded towards the brown haired woman, Mira was shaking her shoulder to wake her up.

"Yes, Juvia wonders why" she replied, her frown turning from frustration to worrying about her friend, Gray knows how much she cares about Cana, yet seeing her worry about her makes Gray smile slightly.

He got back at the task at hand, humiliating Cana with no guilt.

"well, I know why", with a smug expression he turned to her.

"I heard that she called Macao dad" he started, both of their heads leaned on each other as they began whispering.

"what?!" Juvia gasped, her smile widing a little.

" yeah, she was really drunk that she mistook him with Gildarts" Juvia laughed a little, it was a progress.

"Gildarts heard about it and challenged Macao and almost turned the guild upside down if Cana didn't stop him" Gray continued as he saw Cana batting Mira's hand away, she didn't want to be disturbed from her drunken slumber.

"Juvia can not believe this" she laughed, and it was like the bells of heaven in his ears, he felt satisfied.

"yeah, Cana felt so embarrassed that her dad destroyed half the guild, Macao wanted to seize the opportunity.. like asking her if she wants him to be her stepdad" Juvia cackled at that mention, and Gray joined in, they laughed to the point that their guildmates throw at them weird looks.

"and then she told him that the reason why she confused him with her dad is because he is old" their laughter turned into a chortle, Juvia wiped small tears from her eyes and all Gray could do is laugh beside her, looking at her softly.

that's when it hit him.

he loves Juvia's laugh, that's why he likes to joke with her more than he does with the others, because Juvia's laugh gives life around him. and when that hit him he cringed at himself internally.

You are lost Gray , he thought.

One morning, Levy had a task to sort out the new books from the boxes that were delivered to her in the Guild, and Gray was bored -Juvia wasn't around yet- and saw how she struggled with the boxes, so he offered to help her out. also the fact that she is actually pregnant and shouldn't be moving too much.

Levy was grateful that she got another set of hands to help her organise the books, it was a lot of them, and Gajeel was in a job.

Gray was getting the books out of the box and putting them in their own category of genres.

" Isn't this the book that Lucy wanted to read?" he held a medium sized book, with a hard cover titled 'The Persistence Of Joy', Levy took a look at it and snorted.

"Yeah she did, but she got spoiled by another book nerd when she was in her mission, and dropped it immediately" she replied, sorting the books at the same time.

Gray hummed in acknowledgment and got back to organising the books.

"So, what's up with you and Juvia?" she took a moment and added "again", Gray rolled his eyes at her remark, he adores Levy's company but the amount of books she reads makes her read between the lines a little too much for his liking.

"what do you mean?" he responded with boredom against his will instead of ignoring her completely.

"Well, it seems like you enjoy her company, last time I saw you laughing to tears with her" she explained, a little bit dramatically.

"have you ever laughed with a person before Levy?" he put the book that was in his hand on top of the others with force that dust was coming out of it, he looked at her pointedly.

she rolled her eyes, and went to put them in their shelves, Gray took that as a sign that she dropped the subject and he can finally focus on finishing his job, he began to regret ever offering a helping hand.

after a moment of blissful silence.

" I am just saying that you were laughing because of he-"

"i swear to god Levy" he glared at her, Levy just lifted her hands to show that she completely understood his point and won't make any unnecessary comments.

Finally, after finishing putting the books in their respective places, he hurriedly left the library alone since Levy was more engrossed in reading a new book that she found. the work was not tiring but he wanted to see Juvia so badly, he knows she is waiting in the Guild's Main room.

he heard her laughter from the door of the library's hall, and when he opened the doors, he spotted her laughing with Mirajane and Wendy.

He smiled softly as he looked at her, she shined brighter than ever with her eyes closed and the sound of joy she made, he could never get tired of it no matter how many times he hears it.

Maybe her laughter makes him crave laughing as well, it makes him want to reach for that joyful moment. So he joined them, completely oblivious about Levy's presence, poking her head out of the door and smiling.

#gray fullbuster #gruvia #fairy tail #gray x juvia #juvia lockser #fairy tail juvia #fairy tail 100 years quest #juvia loxar #gruvia week 2024

[quitealotofsodapop]

[I wait with bated subscribe button.]

ask and ye shall receive. chapter three is being outlined (things be heating up, but chap. 4 is when things get spicy)

[Even though he knows the Monkey King isn't really his birth parent (glaring at Nuwa), he knew that the choice to raise MK fell on his heavy shoulders. Even if MK is a *little* upset when he finds out via S4 Memory Scroll-ing with Macaque that he's a monkey demon..] + [the memory of Wukong standing outside in the city streets, affixing a strong glamour spell to the baby's head, and sobbing as he forces himself to stop holding them long enough to disappear and make a noise that alerts the pig chef inside the shop.] + [The first thing MK does when he reunites with Wukong, is hug him tight and say "I never blamed you." Wukong is confused until the realisation that MK was in his memories kicks in, and he starts sobbing too.]

cursed scrolling is not a very nice way to figure out that you're some weird monkey thing-y made for some cryptic person by a deadbeat goddess, but it could be worse.

watching the moment Wukong actually sets him down for good is honestly heartbreaking. he's visibly fighting with himself to put the infant down and put the glamor on as he cries, and even after alerting the shopkeep of the little one on the doorstep he isn't able to keep himself from looking back hesitating and looking back as he tries to subtly flee the scene. the scene breifly shifts to show that Wukong circled back in the following days "just to make sure he chose the right home" as they scroll divers heard him telling himself, as well as "this is the last check-in, just to be sure". he said that every time.

Macaque can tell just by looking at Wukong that his instincts are screaming at him for leaving the infant, hence the constant checking to make sure the infant was safe. to see Wukong in such a disheveled state due to his instincts and hormones, possibly to the extent he was neglecting himself in favor of making sure MK was okay, is worrisome, especially knowing that he didn't have anyone to snap him out of it or help. the whole time the memory is unfolding MK wants nothing more than to go give his mentor a big hug.

he ends up giving him that hug, and thankfully too. while hopping back through some of his own deepest regrets Wukong had begun to feel even worse than he already did about a lot of things, leaving MK included. he felt really guilty, so to have MK practically tackle him into a hug and tell him it's okay? he starts ugly crying in an instant.

[He just wished he had more time to know this odd, horse-like dragon that Wukong adored as a brother.]

Wukong speaks very highly of him, and DBK is honestly glad that it seems his Xiandi had someone to care for him. from what he'd seen of the dragon, he seemed very respectable and nice to be around, the kind of person he'd want looking out for Wukong. Wukong's always been bad at letting people go/grieving, so DBK understands entirely that Wukong needs time and that this isn't easy on him.

[This is THEIR happy ending, and Mac's not gonna let Azure take that away from them.]

THIS!

I love the idea of them choosing to reconnect, to work through things, figure out how they've changed and how they fit together now, and most importantly, choosing to come out stronger. choosing to ensure that no one and nothing comes between them like that ever again (let alone the same three assholes a second time).

[Fun fact; since Stone Eggs are able to "steal" the Dao of others, it ws common in Stone Monkey days for widowed monkeys to start the egg-making process while buried next to their mate in hopes that both of their traits lived on in the baby.]

do- do you think Wukong would ever visit Macaque's grave? not bury himself ofc, but lay there next to him? do you think he'd tell his beloved's grave about how the pregnancy was going, telling him all the things he'd wanted to tell him about his egg had things not gone so awry? do you think if Yuebie ever "kicked" he'd switch to telling her about Macaque, but in a way that made it seem like he was meditating a conversation/introducing the two? do you think Wukong told the grave that he wanted her to look like him? do you think going there ultimately did help make her look like him?

[and Jiuweihuli is treating the situation as if she's expecting a grandchild. Even when Wukong explains that Mac only "started the process", that doesn't deter the demonesses.]

she def uses grandma rights to spoil Yuebei rotten once she's born, and even before she's born considering some of the baby shower gifts she gets for the expecting monkey. she becomes a pretty substantial rock for Wukong once he gets past the whiplash of her doing anything more than tolerating him. Macaque also def goes to her for parenting/relationship advice, when he was down in the dumps about his fight with Wukong just before ep 1 of s4 he def went to her asking about "how to fix things so Wukong doesn't leave him and take the kid".

[Yuebei, aka "The God Killer" toddles into a fancy heavenly party and all the Celestials scatter like they saw a tiger enter the room. The infant monkey just jumps on the banquet table and starts chowing down on the hors d'oeuvres like her baba before her.]

those close to Wukong laugh at the familiarity of the whole scene. Wukong doesn't know whether to be proud or worried at the prospect of Yuebei growing up to be like he was in his youth.

[Yuebei and her big bro MK share the trait of "I believe, so it is",]

she got it from him.

[DBK has to be reprimanded for almost getting into a fight with Nezha over their protective instincts towards Wukong in this state.]

DBK remembers how adamant Wukong was the celestial realm doesn't learn of his unborn egg, so he sees the third lotus prince and assumes he's there for nefarious reasons. Ne Zha just wants to make sure Wukong will live through labor.

[Yuebei def stares at the tapes Guanyin provides in silence, tears rolling down her face as she sees and hears her Baba in different eras, telling his baby that they may never meet but that he loves them no matter what!! Especially if one of the things she yelled at Wukong was along the lines of; "You never do anything for me!"]

Guanyin sits there next to her, kinda side hugging her while rubbing circles into her back as Yuebei takes in everything before her. she has questions, some of which Guanyin answers, others they tell her she should ask her baba about, Yuebei pretty much makes a break for home as soon as Guanyin's done talking. Wukong was kinda teary eyed when she got back, but he tried to hide it.

[One of the rarer nicknames he had for her was "little moonlight" whenever he was particularly wistful.]

oooo Imagine Wukong puts her down for bed for bed one night and Macaque overhears him telling her "goodnight my little moonlight", how would he react??

[The subsetquent hours is Macaque fellign like sh*t for making Wukong hate him again + Yuebei crying when Mac raised his voice. He's convinced that he F-d Up Big, and that Wukong would never trust him again- oh hey a text from Mei.]

oh god, Yuebei bursting into tears is def what cuts the argument short with Wukong unwilling to continue the fight with Yuebei so upset and Macaque stunned into silence over waking her up with his yelling. the horror, guilt, shame he must have felt realizing that he did that, he scared her. not make harmad or fussy, he scared her so bad she started wailing.

he thinks it's going to put his progress with her all the way back to square one, but the situation ultimately doesn't allow that. he feels a tad bit guilty almost at how he's relieved she still trust him enough to call for him, when as soon as they enter the celestial realm to dethrone azure he hears her chirping for both Wukong and him.

as mentioned above, I think that after the fight he'd go see Jiuweihuli for advice on how to un-f up the situation, that he likely looked more like him busting through her office of the theater's door a crying mess as he sobs about "ruining everything" before she manages to calm him down enough to get a read on the situation and give him some actually reassurance/advice.

[Macaque still goes to Water Curtain Cave to see whats up... only to find no Monkey Kids, and the smell of a familar lion...]

as soon as Macaque recognizes the horridly familiar scent as Azure's he loses his mind at the implication of whats going on. Macaque was aware the brotherhood wanted Wukong... more permanently out of the picture back in the journey days, so he was also likely aware of their plot invovling the scroll of memory, and didn't mei's text say something about a scroll... ? and she said Yuebei was being "babysat"... right?...

if what he thinks is happening, is happening, it better not be, because if it is he's going to skin the damn lion.

[Wukong: *secretly watching from the doorway, falling in love with his Warrior all over again*]

something about getting to see Macaque being the parent he often told Wukong he wanted to someday be just makes the old king's weary heart melt with some form of love and joy so overwhelming it makes just wanna melt into the moment.

[Yellowtusk is the only one of the Brotherhood trio who recognises that people have changed in the last few hundred years.] + [Yellowtusk recognises that perhaps even he has changed. Being made to relive your mistakes throught the Scroll can do that.] + [Yellowtusk is Wise because he recognises that the best option is to jump this sinking ship now while there's still time.]

he is aware he has already done too much to be forgiven for by his other sworn brothers, but if not for them he'll do this for himself. he doesn't deserve to have the other two nitwits drag him down too. and if not for himself then his morals, this is not what he joined the brotherhood to fight for, and he'll stick to his principles on that even when it puts him against his two remaining brothers.

referencing this Slow Boiled au post.

[watching the moment Wukong actually sets him down for good is honestly heartbreaking. he's visibly fighting with himself to put the infant down and put the glamor on as he cries, and even after alerting the shopkeep of the little one on the doorstep he isn't able to keep himself from looking back hesitating and looking back as he tries to subtly flee the scene. the scene breifly shifts to show that Wukong circled back in the following days "just to make sure he chose the right home" as they scroll divers heard him telling himself, as well as "this is the last check-in, just to be sure". he said that every time.]

oh gosh. THIS

the whole scene is silent save for the sounds of rain, baby MK crying, and Wukong softly shushing him with monkey noises and "I know, I know." Placing the baby down on the storefront and visibly hesistating to make the sound that alerts Pigsy inside.

And Wukong is a mess at this point. Like even more so than when MK met him in "A Hero is Born". He's visibly exhausted and unkempt, looking like he's barely holding it together. Macaque can tell in an instant that his Peaches was in a critical mental and physical at the time.

As MK and Mac see this scene end (shadow monkey trying not to cry too), it cuts to multiple times throughout MK's childhood (ala Leela in Futurama) where Wukong watched over him. Either as a bird, a butterfly, a ladybug, anything that wasn't too strenuous on the de-powered monkey. And MK can just *see* how much his "birth mother" still loved him after all.

[he ends up giving him that hug, and thankfully too. while hopping back through some of his own deepest regrets Wukong had begun to feel even worse than he already did about a lot of things, leaving MK included. he felt really guilty, so to have MK practically tackle him into a hug and tell him it's okay? he starts ugly crying in an instant.]

MK is ugly-crying too. Like full ghibli tears even before Wukong tiredly turns to greet them.

Wukong eventually tries to break the tension by commenting on Mac's own crying + the clingy subject monkeys he picked up. But Macaque just responds by softly enveloping them all in a big shadowy hug (and maybe whispering a few "im sorry"s for the fight earlier).

[Wukong speaks very highly of him, and DBK is honestly glad that it seems his Xiandi had someone to care for him. from what he'd seen of the dragon, he seemed very respectable and nice to be around, the kind of person he'd want looking out for Wukong. Wukong's always been bad at letting people go/grieving, so DBK understands entirely that Wukong needs time and that this isn't easy on him.]

DBK and Ao Lie would have gotten along like a house on fire. Both are princes with a lot on thier shoulders, protective brothers, and complete sweethearts at their core. When DBK is in the Scroll, he sees how Ao Lie cared for his Xiandi during the Journey and is glad that someone truly cared for Wukong during his most vulnerable state.

[I love the idea of them choosing to reconnect, to work through things, figure out how they've changed and how they fit together now, and most importantly, choosing to come out stronger. choosing to ensure that no one and nothing comes between them like that ever again (let alone the same three assholes a second time).]

YES. The choice to fall back in love and make it work!

To learn and relearn new things about eachother despite the troubles they've had in the past! To overcomes hurdles that would have broken them before. To both come out better together. And raise a super-cute baby too.

While it wasn't nessasary, the Brotherhood incident accidentally causes th ebond between Shadowpeach to become stronger since they're literally tackling their pasts head-on.

[do- do you think Wukong would ever visit Macaque's grave? not bury himself ofc, but lay there next to him? do you think he'd tell his beloved's grave about how the pregnancy was going, telling him all the things he'd wanted to tell him about his egg had things not gone so awry? do you think if Yuebie ever "kicked" he'd switch to telling her about Macaque, but in a way that made it seem like he was meditating a conversation/introducing the two? do you think Wukong told the grave that he wanted her to look like him? do you think going there ultimately did help make her look like him?]

Depends if Mac even had one, given that it looked like his body was dragged straight down (then again Wukong could have seen that as normal given how himself got physically kidnapped into Hell the first time).

And oooohhhh the idea that Wukong yearned so much for his former mate that he desperately wanted even a "hint" of him to live in his baby. Like even incidentally. ;_;

Mac sees a memory of Wukong lying down in the "Shame Temple" (I hc as where Mac and his last fight took place hence Shame), and talking to seemingly no one... until Mac notices how Wukong seems to be talking to him??

Memory!Wukong: "What do you think little moonlight? Will you love theatre as much as he did?" *a few seconds past, Wukong reacts to a kick* "Hah! I knew it! I bet he would have taken you to your first play before you could even walk. I just hope that you don't inherit my stage fright..."

And Macaque is just trying his best to blink away tears. "Little moonlight" is what him and Wukong often call Yuebei. He didn't know that Wukong had already dubbed the little cub that long before she was even born. And he's currently grappling the fact that Wukong loved him so so much even after the battle that took Mac's life.

[she def uses grandma rights to spoil Yuebei rotten once she's born, and even before she's born considering some of the baby shower gifts she gets for the expecting monkey. she becomes a pretty substantial rock for Wukong once he gets past the whiplash of her doing anything more than tolerating him.]

The old vixen has had enough experience with rowdy twins to know how Wukong is feeling, especially in the direct aftermath of Yuebei's birth. She's the first of the honorary grandparents (sans Pigsy) to take one look at a sleep-deprived monkey couple and go "Oh no. You too are getting some rest. Let me handle the kit for a few hours."

Wukong is still a little confused why she's so kind to him after all that happened during the Journey.

Wukong: "Didn't I like, almost kill you with my staff?" Jiuweihuli, brushing it off: "That was centuries ago, love. Times change."

The vixen and her twins are far quicker to forgive than some allies in the Monkey King's past. In Jiuweihuli's mind, Wukong had been an expecting mom/dad who was trying their best to protect their family. She has done worse to protect her skulk. She does make plenty of jokes about Wukong "copying" her during the Journey tho.

She's still very critical of Macaque during this time, despite him being her fave understudy. But she's the first to hug him and give advice regarding him and Wukong's fight just pre-S4. She recognises that her honorary-kit is trying their best to make things right, and wants to be there for him throughout it all.

[DBK remembers how adamant Wukong was the celestial realm doesn't learn of his unborn egg, so he sees the third lotus prince and assumes he's there for nefarious reasons. Ne Zha just wants to make sure Wukong will live through labor.]

Theres a flurry of chaos when PIF and DBK arrive on scene after the LBD battle, since they don't know that Ne Zha knows about the Stone Egg. And Ne Zha doesn't know that the two bros have reconciled in that time since their last fight. A very quick fight occurs until Wukong, in his laborous rage, yells "KNOCK IT OFF" - stopping the battle in it's tracks.

[Guanyin sits there next to her, kinda side hugging her while rubbing circles into her back as Yuebei takes in everything before her. she has questions, some of which Guanyin answers, others they tell her she should ask her baba about,]

Guanyin is such a good grandparent figure :3 Wukong is glad that they sorta force-adopted him all those centuries ago.

[oooo Imagine Wukong puts her down for bed for bed one night and Macaque overhears him telling her "goodnight my little moonlight", how would he react??]

Macaque hears Wukong whispering to Yuebei, calling her his "little moonlight", and Mac just starts happy-crying. "Little Moonlight"? As in mini version of Wukong's "Moonlight" nickname for Mac when they were together? Wukong gets ambushed with a happy purring shadow monkey the second he exits the bedroom.

[oh god, Yuebei bursting into tears is def what cuts the argument short with Wukong unwilling to continue the fight with Yuebei so upset and Macaque stunned into silence over waking her up with his yelling. the horror, guilt, shame he must have felt realizing that he did that, he scared her. not make harmad or fussy, he scared her so bad she started wailing.]

Oh this whole squence... the Fight just before Ep 1 of S4.

The whole thing was an arguement that they really should have talked out and come to a compromise on... but relationship progress is tricky. And when voices get raised, both just shut down the second Yuebei starts crying. Macaque ofc solely blames himself for scaring the baby, since it was his voice she reacted to.

Macaque leaves his and Wukong's shared space (likely the hut on FFM, just renovated to be baby-proof), and shadow slinks his way to the theatre where he collaspes into Jiuweihuli's arms, sobbing about how "he's ruined everything again".

Then the idea of Macaque storming the throne room to get Yuebei back, no matter if he's lost all progress with her, only to hear her beautiful happy chirp! upon seeing him!? Oh he's scooping his little girl up right into his arms and kissing her fluffy head all over whispering "im sorry" for scaring her so badly.

Also being inside the Scroll of Memory and seeing how much Wukong sacrificed to ensure Yuebei's birth and MK's safety, makes Mac appreciate them all even more.

[if what he thinks is happening, is happening, it better not be, because if it is he's going to skin the damn lion.]

If Yuebei hadn't gone baby Hercules-mode on the Brotherhood, you best be sure that Macaque really would have skinned Azure for indirectly kidnapping his and Wukong's baby (the MKrew kids basically panicked and gave him Yuebei to hold while they went into the Scroll).

[something about getting to see Macaque being the parent he often told Wukong he wanted to someday be just makes the old king's weary heart melt with some form of love and joy so overwhelming it makes just wanna melt into the moment.]

Lets just say, seeing Macaque treat Yuebei (and be extension MK) as his own cubs, is something that just makes Wukong's heart soar like it did millennia ago when they'd fantasized about having a massive family post-war.

And seeing Macaque still adoring their little moonlight, even after their arguement + the situation at hand, makes Wukong adore him even more.

[he is aware he has already done too much to be forgiven for by his other sworn brothers, but if not for them he'll do this for himself. he doesn't deserve to have the other two nitwits drag him down too. and if not for himself then his morals, this is not what he joined the brotherhood to fight for, and he'll stick to his principles on that even when it puts him against his two remaining brothers.]

Yellowtusk is a smart elephant. He's willing to call up his old patron Samantabhadra and the other bodhisattvas for an assist if it means his brothers are forced to their senses. Even in canon, he's the first to recognise that Azure's hold on the throne wasn't sustainable. Combined with Peng's goading, and the kidnapping of their former brother's child, Yellowtusk is shuting down this takeover early.

Thank you for loving this Au as much as I do! It's such a fun one to play around in!

#slow boiled stone egg au #lmk aus #pregnancy tw #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #shadowpeach #qi xiaotian #lmk dbk #lmk demon bull king #lmk yuebei #yuebei xing #lmk yellowtusk #long post #lmk #lego monkie kid

[fervency-if]

ROs AND THE POTENTIAL ROs reaction to the age-old question... "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Aah, the question for the ages... I had replied to this question before, back when there were only The Physician, Aubrey, Vesa, and Narciso, tried to search for it, and...

...I don't know. I just thought it looked funny. Content-free for worm. But I did find it. In either case... From that certain post:

The Physician would giggle and say "worms are quite interesting creatures, aren't they? I do believe I would like you well enough."

Aubrey would raise an eyebrow and ask "what on earth are you talking about? Did you, per chance, have some liquor just now? Why didn't you tell me so; I would have loved to share a glass with you!"

Narciso would be quite amused, but reply in a very flat voice "I would never have gotten to know you in the first place if you were a worm." (And another thing: he does not like worms. He's squeamish.)

Vesa would laugh, poke the tip of the main character's nose, and say "of course I would!"

And the two other people from the Physician's path:

Roswhen would laugh and tell them that they would probably be an adorable worm. Oh, they very much prefer them as a human, but if? Yes, they would love them if they were a worm.

Elan would be a bit confused by the question, but it would make him chuckle, too. Why are they asking this? But he would love them. He would take good care of them and all. Yet... Please, don't transform into a worm if you can help it. It would feel awkward.

As for some upcoming ones and such, since you asked about potential love interests also:

Francesco would give them a smirk, a little bit open and pearly-teethed; "no. Of course I couldn't love a worm," before winking and taking the main character's hand, giving it a little kiss.

Bess would ask if it was a regular worm, or a more... human-like one. Human intelligence, and all that. Yes, she could love them if so, but she's very sorry to say that she wouldn't find her the least bit attractive anymore. How unfortunate.

Maryam would joke around, pretending to be shocked; "what are you trying to tell me? Have you been a worm all along? Or do you feel a worm-like transformation coming your way? This is worrisome!"

Bryars would sigh, shake his head, and put a hand upon his forehead in a most dramatic manner. "Ah! A worm? Will I, forever, be known as the lover of worms? Oh, so be it! I simply love you too much."

Lili would tell them that they would make sure to get themselves a garden with good soil, so their beloved worm could live well. Also, they would make themselves a scarecrow. Watch out for birds!

#fervency ros #worm

[mingtinys]

Bad Day

pairing : jeong yunho x gn!reader

angst , hurt / comfort

warnings : language , yelling , insecurities

word count : 2.5 k

requested ? no

a/n : i feel like we rarely see yunho being anything but a ball of sunshine , so i thought this would be an interesting perspective to write about

"Hello..?" The voice on the phone is mumbled, but deep and undeniably Mingi's. He sounds tired, like he's fighting off the last remnants of sleep after being woken too soon. You suddenly feel bad for calling so late, especially after a dance practice. Maybe you were overreacting.

"Sorry, is this a bad time?"

A yawn. "No, no, you're fine. What's up?"

"I just haven't heard from Yunho yet, do you know if he's still up?" Based on what Yunho had told you this morning, dance practice ended at 9 pm. It's now midnight and you'd yet to hear from Ateez's lead dancer.

There's a pause.

"Is he not with you?"

Your heart sinks just a little at the thought of Yunho being unheard from by even his best friend. But you push any worrisome thoughts down for the time being. Perhaps his phone is dead or he came back to the dorms without Mingi noticing.

"No, did he say he was supposed to be with me?" Your words come out more urgent than you wish them to. Mingi must take notice because when he speaks next his voice loses its tired edge and he seems more alert.

"Oh, no! He didn't say anything. It was just a rough practice today so I figured he'd go straight to see you— hold on let me go ask Hongjoong."

There's shuffling on the other side, which you presume to be Mingi going to Hongjoong's room. It only takes a few seconds for you to hear his voice again, this time just a little more distant.

"Hyung, do you know where Yunho is? Y/N's asking."

Hongjoong's voice is too quiet for you to make out anything he says. At some point, Mingi drops to a whisper as well and the two discuss to themselves. You mess with your fingers as you wait for Mingi to reiterate the conversation.

"You still there?" His voice finally comes through. You give a short confirmation and Mingi continues. "Hongjoong said he's still at the studio."

Though still concerned for him working way past normal hours, you let out a relieved sigh. Mingi says goodnight to Hongjoong on the other side and you take it upon yourself to ask one more question. "Do you think it's best just to let him be then?"

He takes a beat to think. Then, "I actually think he'd appreciate seeing you, maybe it’ll cheer him up."

"What exactly happened?"

"We had a new choreographer today, the guy was a serious piece of work. It's like nothing any of us did was up to his standards, but he was particularly hard on Yunho. He seemed pretty dejected by the end of it." He explains.

Your heart aches for Yunho, someone who takes immense joy and pride in his work. To be shot down and berated time after time must have been grating.

"Alright, I'll go see if I can get him to at least rest. Thank you, Mingi."

"Of course– oh and Y/N?" Mingi asks a second before you can hit "end."

"Hmm?"

"Can you tell him he did well, even if he doesn't think so? He wouldn't hear it from us, but he tends to listen to you."

Mingi doesn't get sentimental often, nor does he take such a serious tone. It's unsettling really, but sweet, and it leaves no doubt in your mind that tonight's practice really was hell.

"I will, you all take care of yourselves as well."

"We will. Goodnight, Y/N."

You bid him goodnight as well before ending the call.

It doesn't take long to gather your things and head to the dance studio. Maybe thirty minutes max, which included a stop at a nearby 24-hour convenience store for two cans of cold coffee.

The night-time security guard happily allows you in with a polite greeting. If he's not supposed to, he doesn't make it known. After a full year of dating Yunho, you were on friendly terms with most of KQ's staff, so it’s easy to get away with stuff like this.

The practice room pulses with a new song that echoes down the halls. It's way too loud for this time of night, but makes navigating KQ's halls a little easier. You follow the increasing volume until it comes to a crescendo just past a door with a small glass window cut into it. Through it, you spot Yunho dressed in sweats and mid-dance. Though his body isn't moving as fluidly with the music as it usually does. Instead, his moves are jagged and forceful, but most of all sluggish. You aren't sure how long exactly he's been going at this, but it's clear exhaustion set in long ago. 

Yunho stops suddenly, muttering to himself as he strides across the room to pause the music. He leans against the desk where the laptop sits on and drops his head into his hands. His shoulders move up and down with heavy breaths, and you feel awkward interrupting such a moment without warning.

So you lightly rasp three times on the door to alert him of your presence before easing into the room. You just barely catch the tail end of him muttering out a quiet, "fuck."

It's rare to hear him curse in a non-lighthearted matter. But in just a few seconds, Yunho straightens himself out as if nothing happened. He must have been expecting the security guard or quite literally anyone else, because he completely freezes when he turns around and sees you.

You're finally able to fully take in his appearance, and he looks rough. You're not sure you've ever seen him so sweaty and worn out in your life. His grey t-shirt is drenched, and it sticks to his skin in a way you can't imagine being comfortable. Strands of dark brown hair clump together and splay across his forehead. His breathing is deep and heavy, like he's trying to suck down as much air as humanly possible. You aren't able to tell if his red and puffy features are due to overheating or crying; maybe both. Yunho's usually bright and excited brown eyes look dull and lifeless. Dark under circles hang below, making his face look more gaunt than usual. It's truly a pitiful sight to behold.

"Babe... what are you doing here?" The way he forces a sweet saccharine tone into his voice sinks your heart into your stomach. He really does try his best to cover his beaten-down demeanor. But it's strained, and the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Mingi said you were practicing late, thought I'd bring some coffee." You extend one of the cans to him, and he takes it before setting it down next to the laptop.

Again, he attempts a smile. "Thank you, I'll call you after I'm done, yeah?"

"Why don't you take a break?" your hand comes to rest on his bicep, grazing over the feverish skin with your thumb. "We can sit, have some coffee, talk about your day. . ."

"Not right now babe, maybe another time okay?" He grows antsy with each word and shrugs off your hand. It's clear something is bothering him. And unfortunately, when Yunho feels an overwhelming rush of negative emotions he tends to put on a brave face and lock himself away until it passes. You've always respected his need for space while he learns it's okay to lean on you during these times. But you have to admit, it's frustrating when he shuts you out. He's too concerned with keeping up his playful and joyous demeanor to even consider the idea of looking for support.

"Yunho—" you start, but are immediately cut off by the overpowering speakers as he restarts the song and strides back to the center of the floor.

He picks back up from the start, and you decide it's best to wait him out. It's useless to try and pry something out of him right now. So you set your things down and lean against a wall.

Normally you enjoy watching Yunho dance, whether it be practices or performances. He's insanely talented, yet most of all, takes immense joy in dancing. His grace radiates across the stage and never fails to bring a smile to your face. But right now he just seems … sad. He isn't enjoying it like usual, nor is he putting much heart into it.

Frustration emanates throughout the room with him at the center. It's such a rare sight to see. Yunho absolutely at his wit's end, struggling like someone had placed one hundred pound weights on each shoulder.

You're startled from your thoughts at the sound of a loud thud and shouted "shit!" You look up just in time to see Yunho on the floor, large hands gripping his ankle and face contorted in pain.

You're kneeling beside him within seconds, hands hovering around where he's holding, unsure of how to help. "Shit, Yunho."

"I'm fine! Just– why don't you head home?" He slowly picks himself off the ground, wincing every time he accidentally puts too much pressure on his left foot. He's able to stand, albeit wobbly, but it's a good sign of nothing being broken. Probably just a sprain, easily fixed with ice and a good night's rest. If he ever lets you talk some sense into his head.

"Why don't we go home together?"

"I really can't, okay? Please just go!" It comes out harsher than he'd intended. But the frustration is getting to him, and you know he's trying anything to get you to leave before he fully implodes. So you don't have to see him any worse than he already is.

"I don't know what exactly happened today and I understand you're upset, but that doesn't mean it's okay to take it out on me."

A flash of irritation etches itself into his features, but it's gone just as fast as it came. Yunho takes a deep breath. Then another. "You're right, I'm sorry for blowing up at you. But please, I just want to be alone right now."

There's still an edge of urgency in his strained voice, but you accept the apology.

There's a moment of silence that blankets the room as the music fades to an end. In the commotion, you barely registered it was still playing. But its absence now leaves a palpable tension in the room, the only sounds being Yunho's ragged breaths. He must have expected you to just leave without another word from the way he's expectantly looking at you.

You shift in your spot.

"Babe please–"

"I'm not going until I know you're okay."

The muscles in his jaw visibly tense and his fists curl into balls at his side, knuckles white from the pressure. "It was just a bad day." He spits through clenched teeth.

You nod and another few moments pass. There's a glossy sheen over his already reddened eyes. He pushes down what sounds like the start of a cry, but it only causes his chest to constrict and spasm further.

"We had a new choreographer today and he–"

A pathetic hiccup breaks past his lips and it's the first leak in his already crumbling dam that is able to break through the disguise he put on. He tries to conceal it, turning his back to you and roughly gripping at his hair. It's a poor attempt at best, made even more pitiful by him still nursing his left ankle.

You rush to comfort him any way you know how when the next sob rips its way through his throat. Wrapping your arms securely around his midsection and giving a reassuring squeeze. You press a kiss to his shoulder blade and rest your head against his back, mumbling kind affirmations to coax the full story out of him.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong!" Sobs shake through his entire body as he finally gives in. "But nothing I did was good enough. He just kept saying 'it's not right, you're too slow, too awkward, too lazy.'"

"He sounds like an idiot," you mumble against Yunho's back.

He doesn't hear your comment, or if he did he doesn't acknowledge it. "I thought I could stay late and fix it but— it's not fucking working. I can't get it, I keep stumbling and forgetting the moves, and I–"

Another sob breaks his sentence in half, but he continues on.

"And I hate feeling like this. I never meant to yell or for you to see me like this," he's rushing through his words, trying to redeem any piece of himself he can at this point. "I'm so sorry, you shouldn't have to—"

"Yunho, please look at me." He doesn't respond at first, only stills in your hold at the request. "Please."

Begrudgingly, he turns around. His hands fall from his hair and hang loosely at his sides, shoulders slumped. Yunho still refuses to meet your eyes, head tilted down at the floor instead.

Your hands come to cup his jaw ever so gently, swiping away stray tears. You tilt your head to catch his watery gaze. For the first time ever, Yunho feels unbelievably small in your grasp and it makes your heart ache in a way that tightens a knot in your throat.

"Please stop apologizing, Yunho." Your voice is merely a whisper. "I love you, so much. Good and bad days alike, I promise nothing will ever change that."

His eyes squeeze shut and his lip quivers ever so slightly. He tries to drop his head back down, but your palms on his jaw support the weight. "You don't always have to act so brave all the time. It's okay to be upset, I would never judge you for it."

Slowly, his eyes flutter open, wet lashes clumping together as another wave of tears rolls in. He scans your face, soft brown irises darting back and forth. If he's looking for any sign of dishonesty; it isn't there. Your words are genuine and tell him everything he didn't know he needed to hear.

A newfound vulnerability registers in his expression. It hits him all at once as he collapses into your embrace. Strong arms pulling you impossibly close, he smells of sweat and floor cleaner with just a hint of his body wash lingering on his skin. He fists the back of your shirt, shaky hands grasping desperately as if harsh waves have been pushing him deeper and deeper underwater and you’re the only thing keeping him afloat.

You cradle his head into the crook of your neck protectively. Smoothing back his hair and tracing delicate circles across the skin at the base of his neck. Wet tears absorb into the fabric of your shirt, but it doesn't matter.

"I wanna go home." He whimpers against your skin, but makes no attempt to let go. In fact, he tightens his hold on your shirt even more so. There's no rush to get home, so you let him stay, prepared to hold him for as long as he needs.

"You did well today, Yunho. I'm really proud of you, everyone is." You whisper, and you really hope this time he's able to believe it.

#yunho #ateez #yunho drabble #jeong yunho drabble #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho fanfic #ateez x reader #yunho imagine #jeong yunho imagine #ateez yunho #yunho imagines #ateez imagines #yunho angst #ateez angsty #yunho oneshot #yunho hurt/comfort