#single thing on his own in the beginning he wrote his way out he rose up on his own. but that strength turned into pride and he begins to

[moonlinos]

Hi love 💖

Which romance trope do you associate each skz member with?

For eg: enemies to lovers, forbidden, friends to lovers, boy next door etc

Tbh, from your perspective what relates to them....

Bye, keep writing more 🥰🤗☺️

Ahh I loved writing this, thank you for asking. I got a bit carried away, but it’s not proofread since it’s a drabble so I tried to be less annoying with myself 🙃 Basically a trope for each member + a small blurb 🩷

Chan - Second chance love Maybe it’s because I just wrote about this, but it fits Chan well.

He was your college sweetheart, the one boyfriend you could never truly forget. After he moves to a different country due to a job offer, you’re left to reminisce about the amazing relationship you foolishly let slip through your fingers. You unknowingly compare every boyfriend you have to him, and they all fall short. No guy is as caring as Chan — he missed out on his own birthday party to console you after failing a test. No guy is as romantic as Chan — he was too broke for flowers during your relationship, so he made you paper roses every day until you broke up. No guy would ever live up to what Chan meant to you. Although you want nothing more than to look for him, your falling out wasn’t quite amicable. When you meet again, it’s by pure coincidence. He’s been transferred back to Seoul, where his company is located across the street from the building where you work. You’re completely different from who you were when you were together. Somehow, that’s exactly what you needed, and you find yourselves wanting to give your old romance a second try.

Minho - Friends to lovers This is so strange to me because this is actually my least favorite trope, and this man is my bias.

Minho is the one person at your job who you can stand to be around. You always joked about how his hidden talent is making you laugh even while you’re crying. Having worked together for three years now, you two have your little routine: going out to eat cheap street food after work and getting drunk at your favorite bar on weekends. He’s nothing but a friend to you, but he’s secretly pining after you, just waiting for that right moment to confess his feelings. But that moment never comes — you’re always too focused on work, or whining about yet another failed blind date. It takes one drunken night, when he’s carrying you from your car up to your apartment, for just how sweet, caring, and handsome Minho truly is to dawn on you. From there, you begin to subtly show him your feelings — which would totally make him flustered and maybe even a little annoyed that you could do it so effortlessly while he just waited around like an idiot. When you’re asked why you had a change of heart after being his friend for so long, you simply answer that you had no choice but to fall for him. He’s your best friend and the love of your life all wrapped up into one, how could you not want him?

Changbin - Holiday romance He just screams hot, funny dude you meet on a holiday.

You’re a bit down as you walk into the luau; the beautiful beach does little to distract you from the ugly jealousy inside your chest. Your friends are finding their perfect partners one by one, getting married, and leaving you to be the single friend. Your last friend from your little group is set to get married in two days, her wealthy fiance flying all the guests out to Hawaii for a dream beach wedding. You’re happy for her, but being her bridesmaid was almost like rubbing salt in your wound. Changbin’s loud voice is the first thing you hear after sitting down at the bar. You two get to talking, and his contagious laughter and constant jokes have you enthralled the entire night, and the way the sleeves of his shirt strained against his biceps certainly helped. You end up hooking up that night, leaving you hopeful you won’t be so lonely during yet another wedding. Except he simply disappears when morning comes, a small note explaining he had to catch his flight left on the pillow beside you. He didn’t know if adding his number would be too much — maybe you were just looking to de-stress and have a good time at your friend’s bachelorette party. So he doesn’t, simply signing his name and telling you he had an amazing time with you.

Hyunjin - Forbidden love In so many different ways. A crown prince set to be king, your bodyguard who really shouldn’t have fallen for you because it puts his life at risk, your best friend who’s already in a relationship. A love you know is unattainable, but you pursue it anyway.

The crown prince has a soft spot for you, even though you’re only a village girl who runs your family’s bakery. Despite his guards surrounding him and his cold appearance, he treats you as an equal whenever he visits your shop — which happens frequently, seeing as his mother cannot live without your strawberry pound cake, a recipe that’s been passed down to you by your late father. Hyunjin’s love starts shyly, without him noticing. His father often berates him for being too soft on the help, too kind to people below him — he simply assumes it’s his seemingly too-kind nature that makes him want to befriend you. He begins escaping from the palace under the pretense of fetching his mother’s favorite treat himself, until he finds himself escaping simply to see you. You spend your days teaching him how to bake various treats while he revels in feeling so normal for the first time in his life. Hidden inside your little bakery, he’s not expected to be gracious and courteous, or to be ruthless and calculating. He can simply be himself around you. Only problem is his parents announce he will be marrying a princess from a neighboring kingdom in less than six months.

Jisung - Fake relationship Jisung screams early 2000s romcom for me, you can’t change my mind. The real chaotic ones like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, The Wedding Planner, and of course, The Proposal.

You were certainly not his first option, given his love for tormenting you and your history of bickering at office get-togethers. But Jisung is left with no choice as Christmas is quickly approaching, and his entire family expects to meet his fiance when he visits. In all fairness, he did have one, but she broke off the engagement with no real explanation, leaving him heartbroken and in a huge predicament. He could either come clean to his family and endure two weeks of nagging or find someone to act as his fiance. Unfortunately for him, you’re the only single woman in his department he knows would accept this crazy deal — that’s enough ammo for a year of teasing, and you can’t pass up on that.

Felix - Sunshine/grumpy I know this is the most obvious choice but hear me out, it’s for good reason.

Felix moves back to Australia to get away from the corporate world he’s been sucked into, missing his carefree days at the beach when he was a kid. You move in next door after a year and a half of enduring a terrible writer’s block that threatens your career as a writer. You have no time for futile things, seeing as your livelihood depends on you sitting down and finishing your book before summer ends. Except your neighbor is unrelenting, determined to help you find your lost passion through his carefully curated list of days at his favorite childhood fair and late-night ocean trips to teach you how to swim. It’s irritating at first, and you want nothing more than to get through his silly list as fast as possible lest you drown him during one of your swimming lessons. Only Felix’s outlook on life slowly wins you over, and you find yourself with more than just your forgotten love for writing filling your heart.

Seungmin - Enemies to lovers He also screams romantic comedy. His handsome face hiding his chaotic need to pester everyone he loves makes this the obvious choice to me.

As a lawyer just starting her career, you expect to be faced with the usual issues: overworking, your boss being an asshole, and dealing with cases that make you question your own morals. A co-worker who makes every second of your day unbearable was not on your bingo card. Seungmin is assigned to the same team as you, working under the supervision of the firm’s most prestigious lawyers. His need to be the best drives you up the wall, his competitiveness possibly being the worst trait you’ve seen on a man, only rivaled by his cockiness. If that wasn’t enough, he’s seemingly determined to make your life a living hell, constantly engaging in petty fights and teasing you every chance he gets. When a particular case proves too much for you to handle — hitting too close to home — Seungmin trades his unwelcome jokes for words of encouragement, keeping you company after work hours simply to help you. You see him take a step back from his beloved spotlight for the first time just to watch you shine. You find it odd, to say the least, but you can’t bring yourself to question it in your situation. Little do you know he’s been falling for you since he was first introduced to the team, and his need to rile you up is simply a desperate attempt to make you pay attention to him.

Jeongin - Boy next door I read this one in your message and I just knew it was Jeongin.

He moves next door after a heartbreak, which makes him want nothing more than to run away from the bustling city of Seoul and its cold residents. Jeongin intrigues you from the first day — having lived in that small town your whole life had you desperate for excitement, for what adventures the city could provide you. You have a happy, albeit quite monotonous life. Running the only bookshop in town provides countless stories from your nosy neighbors’ chaotic lives that keep you entertained throughout your days. Still, you’ve grown tired of only hearing about these experiences. Jeongin begins frequenting your bookshop, walking you home, and coming inside for a piece of cake every day. During your talks, you always complain about your dull life in the town, while he swears you wouldn’t trade the tranquility of your little life if you knew how ruthless and lonely the city can be. You fall first, his bright smile and gentle nature capturing your lonely heart. But he falls harder, vowing to help you find the excitement you yearn for in life, even if it means losing you to the city he hates so much.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #skz fic #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #lee know fluff #lee know smut #lee know x reader #seo changbin smut #seo changbin fluff #seo changbin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #felix smut #felix fluff #felix x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin fluff #seungmin x reader #i.n smut #i.n fluff

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Six: Forced Proximity @rowaelinscourt

link to masterlist here

She is a mess because I wrote her in one day between doing my real job and trying not to cry xoxo

Warnings: mild covid references/quarantine days, very poorly edited

level of concern (tell me we're alright)

The apartment was too small.  Aelin hadn’t noticed it until now, but two rooms and a single bathroom with a kitchen that easily melted into the living room was hardly enough space for two people.  Two people who hated each other.

Aelin threw herself down on the couch, gripping her coffee in one hand.  She’d long ago mastered the art of equilibrium where any sort of caffeine was involved so she didn’t spill anything as she sprawled across the plush cushions.  Groaning, she leaned her head back and tried, so very hard, not to lose her ever loving mind.

It was only week three of quarantine and she was going insane.

She missed going outside whenever she felt like it.  She missed going shopping.  She missed her friends.  She missed people.  Instead, she was trapped here with the one person she did not want to be.

“Do you always have to sound like a dying whale?” A very unamused voice called from the kitchen table, a grand ‘ol four steps away.

Aelin flashed a single finger over the top of the couch.  She got a grunt of disapproval in return.

“It’s eight twenty-two, well outside of your precious quiet hours,” she informed her roommate. “I can do whatever I want.”

Another grunt.

Aelin shifted to peek over the couch to glare. “You sound like a dying walrus.”

And Rowan Whitethorn promptly choked on his cereal.  Two days in a row—Aelin was on a winning streak.

When Aelin first moved to Doranelle three months ago, her plan was to have her own apartment, a dog, a perfect new job, and a social life.  What she got was a crash landing with her nemesis, no dog, the worst job known to man, and quarantine.

She and Rowan had been at each other's throats since they met one fateful night at a bar.  Rowan spilled beer on her, an accident, and promptly insulted her two minutes later after trying to hit on her.

As it turned out, he was friends with Aelin’s old roommates' boyfriends.  She should have known he was the worst considering he and Lorcan Salvaterre got on.  

The bar scene ended with a fight, more beer spillage (on purpose), and a promise of vengeance.

Unfortunately for Aelin, her prospective lease fell through and she would have been homeless if not for the extra room in Rowan’s apartment.  And then covid struck and Aelin was trapped.

Hence, her beached whale position (and sounds) from the couch.  Life was one cosmic joke after another.

“You don’t always have to make your presence known, y’know,” Rowan commented as he pretended, he hadn’t almost had multi-grain Wheaties shooting out of his nose.

“Of course I do,” Aelin argued, “how else can I annoy you before quiet hours begin?”

His green eyes flashed and he rose from his seat at the table, already dressed in a button up and slacks.  For Zoom meetings.  Like a lunatic.  If he’d been wearing a tie she would have teased him for it.  Of all things the man should still be in shorts and a t-shirt.  At least the button up stretched in interesting ways over Rowan’s broad shoulders.  He might have been the bane of her existence but he was nice to look at.

“Don’t you have a job?” he asked, putting his dishes in the sink. “Ah, I forgot, you don’t.”

“Freelance writing is a job,” Aelin said.  She sat up straighter so she could better glare at him. “It’s not my fault things have slowed down.”

Indeed, Aelin’s literature degree had taken a hit given the state of the world right now.  She’d hoped she would have a job at a major publishing company or magazine or something.  Instead, she’d been rejected from job after job and was trying to write freelance articles to keep up on rent.  It…wasn’t going well.  Which had led her to content creating for Instagram.  She read books and talked about them and it kept her somewhat sane.  Until Rowan mocked her for it.

“Rent’s due on the fifth!” he called as he disappeared down the hall to his room to shut in for his work day to begin.

Aelin had no idea what he did, only that it involved not having a sense of humor.  Something with marketing?  But his degree was in history if Elide was right…

She shrugged and took a long sip of her coffee.  She had less than twenty minutes before quiet hours started at eight-forty and ended at five thirty when the work day ended and she had every intention of making as much noise as possible.

…

Rowan knew he was an ass.  He’d always been known as the asshole throughout high school, college, the steps in-between.  Even his friends often thought he was worse than Lorcan.  Lorcan of all people.

Granted, ever since Elide came into the picture, Lorcan had mellowed out and even smiled once a week.

Rowan found scowling to be more beneficial.  Especially when it came to getting Sam Cortland to shut up in the daily staff meetings they had over Zoom.

His degree was in art history and appraising--a limited degree where all he’d wanted to do was work in a museum organizing exhibits.  Not writing legal documents for rich men to take art from their rightful owners.

The irony was not lost on him that perhaps he shouldn’t give Aelin such a hard time about her job and the fact she wasn’t using her degree very much.  

The only problem was he’d dug himself into a hole and now he had no idea how to get out.

Aelin, for all eccentricities, was smart and did work hard.  She was doing everything possible to stay afloat--sarcasm included.

Their first meeting at the bar had only gone so miserable because Rowan didn’t know when to shut up and apparently had a unique skill of insulting beautiful women.  What a time to learn that.

English?  Isn’t that the easiest thing to study?

She should have slapped him and not just dumped beer in his lap.

Rowan leaned back in his seat as the project manager started talking over the new contract that would be drawn up between a client and their acquisitions.  It continued on for too long and Rowan just wanted to get back to his own assignments.  By the time late afternoon rolled around, he was ready to log off and be done for the day.

He’d always considered himself to be a homebody, but this was getting ridiculous.  He wanted to be out doing things.  But the trails were closed, his friends were spread out over the country, and there was the risk of a disastrous illness running amuck.

So he was trapped in an apartment with Aelin Galathynius.  The place had always felt enormous until she’d moved in.  But she had a way of filling every space she occupied.  Other than the various bathroom accouterments she had there were the dozens of fleece blankets, the books, the personality.  Even he had to admit she was different from anyone he’d met before.

Unfortunately, she was very good at holding grudges.

He’d tried apologizing for getting off on the wrong foot when she first moved in, but her mind was already made up.  Then came the way she was loud, talkative, rambunctious.  Quarantine was not meant for her.  After one day he’d realized that she needed space and freedom and the ability to do whatever she wanted.  The jury was still out on how he felt about that.

He was finally able to mute his other coworkers when a loud crash echoed from the kitchen.  Rowan rolled his eyes.  It was two, so of course Aelin was getting snacky.  He’d clocked her eating habits and quickly learned she needed to eat at least eight times a day to be in a good mood.  Seven of those times had to involve chocolate.

She had been doing better at keeping quiet while he was in his zoom meetings so Rowan tried to control his ire.  Really, she hadn’t been a bad roommate.  She’d tried to keep the peace between them and even offered to include him on DoorDash orders.  All of her orders were from the local dessert shop and Rowan didn’t eat much sugar so that didn’t help matters.   

Another crash from the kitchen followed by the patter of feet to the linen closet.

“Damndamndamndamn,” Aelin chanted as she went.

Rowan froze.  She’d broken his sink again, hadn’t she?  He glanced at his computer but no one was paying attention, all engaged in their own work.  Besides, he could step away from a minute if he needed to.

Standing, Rowan slipped into the hall and down to the kitchen.  He braced himself for anything and everything.  Knowing Aelin there could be a dead body.

What he was completely unprepared for was the settling plume of flour and mess of various baking items scattered around the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing?” he blurted before he could stop himself.

Aelin turned from the counter, her blonde hair spilling out of a messy bun.  Her t-shirt and shorts (that showed off her lean legs) were covered in a mix of flour and butter, her face smudged too.  He knew he should stop staring.  Really, he’d seen her first thing in the morning looking like the walking dead and in the middle of the night crying to Taylor Swift.  And now, covered in flour, eyes wide with panic.  He would admit it only to himself and deny it if anyone asked him--but she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“It’s cookie Friday,” Aelin said, she had a towel in one hand, spatula in the other.  A bottle of vanilla was tipped over as she was trying to mop up the mess. “Sorry.”

“You hate cooking, or baking, or anything involving an oven,” Rowan reminded her.

“Which is why I’m only going to eat the dough raw,” Aelin said, voice growing quieter with each word.  Her blue eyes were comically wide as she gestured around the kitchen. “Then the thing exploded and the other thing tipped over and it turned into a mess and I was trying to be quiet because you are a grumpy buzzard, even on Fridays, and I know you’re at work but I really needed cookies.”

Aelin continued to look at him with her large eyes as she offered a sympathetic shrug of her shoulders.  

"Sorry?"

Rowan didn't know if he should laugh or be irritated or something else.  But all he really could do was stare at her.  It was such an Aelin thing for her to do that really, he couldn't be mad.

"You know raw cookie dough is bad for you right?" He asked.

"No, it literally feeds the soul," she set.

With a wet thwack, she dropped the towel in the sink and righted the vanilla bottle.  Most of it had spilled out leaving a sickly-sweet scent cloying in the air. "And I don't care what scientists or other miserable things you read say."

Rowan rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to try and reason with her. "Alright fine.  Eat your salmonella."

"I will, thank you," she said.  A patch of flour still clung to her cheek giving her bravado a little less umph than he was sure she wanted. "And I'll clean up, no need to worry your poor old heart about that."

"I'm not old," he said.  Thirty was a perfectly reasonable age.

"Yeah, yeah."  She patted herself down, sending little plumes of flour all over the place.  She tried righting her hair, but it seemed to be of no use—most of the tendrils had broken free and she was stuck with a curling mass in the nape of her neck. "Go back to work, I'm sure nothing will get done without you."

And Rowan in a bought of what had to be pure reckless abandonment shook his head. "Nah.  I'm not that important."

Aelin raised a brow. "Really? Even with your real degree and real work you put into college."

Well.  He deserved that. 

"Yeah?"

Aelin eyed him skeptically before tossing another clean towel at him. "You get the floor I'll get the cabinets."

And then because the apartment had somehow shrunk in the last three months—they were continually in each other’s way.  Rowan brushing her leg, Aelin grabbing his shoulder when she nearly fell over while reaching for the top cabinets, both going for the sink at the same time.  It was chaos.  And because Rowan didn't know how to sort out his own feelings, he found his skin heating at each touch, his heart race at each glance.  And he knew, he knew he was a fool.  But if the past three months had taught him anything—it was that he could be very wrong about a great deal of things.

When the kitchen was somewhat restored to order.  Aelin sighed. "I guess that'll have to do.  I'll dig out the real cleaning products in a minute, I have to meet with one of my editors.  Hopefully one of my articles was accepted this time."

She said the last part flippantly, but Rowan could sense the tension rolling off of her.  She wanted that job to go through, needed it.  

"I'm sure it will," he said.

Aelin rolled her eyes. "You don't have to offer a pity compliment buzzard; I know it's not your style."

“It’s not--” Rowan cursed and looked away, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “We both know what I said back then wasn’t true.  I know it must have taken work and dedication to get your degree.”

“Thanks.  It did.” She was unapologetic with her bold words, just as he would expect her to be. “I won’t keep you.  I promise I’ll have the rest of this cleaned up before bed.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan said. 

Aelin grabbed the dirty towels to take to the small laundry alcove but Rowan stopped her.

“You’ve got flour,” he tried to explain that there was still a steak of flour on her cheek, but he was already reaching out, brushing it away with a quick swipe of his thumb.

Aelin froze, watching him as if she didn’t recognize him.  Not that he could blame her, he was actually being nice.  Her lips parted as if to say something, but Rowan’s phone gave a loud ping from where he’d left it in his room.  He’d hooked his notifications onto a larger speaker setting so he wouldn’t miss anything during the day if he got up to leave his desk.

“Work calls, right?”  Aelin joked with a small, half smile.  And then she was gone down the hall.

Rowan cursed again, running a hand over his face. 

“Get it together, Whitethorn,” he muttered, before he too returned to his room.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

tags are a joke rn. please consider reblogging?

love yall

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #modern au #tog #throne of glass #fluff and fun

[saey707]

Mi Querida

✿ Prompt: Your needy boyfriend is a heavy metal musician ✿

♡ champion focus: viego ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: Honestly I haven't been in the mood to write anything serious (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) So these are just some (cough, self-indulgent, cough...) headcanon blobs for if you were modern Pentakill Viego's partner! Also! This is not my first time writing Penta Viego >:3 You can check out a longer one-shot that I wrote right here! Hope you all enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Viego isn't the most admired musician, especially because of his temperamental attitude and massive ego- But you know when he's away from the cameras and lights he is a completely different person. He may be rough and tough, doesn't give an eff Mutaris the Dissonance on stage, but with you, he's just Viego.

Viego cusses out his laptop screen whenever people leave hate comments on his new singles and you always have to calm him down

You're the only person he allows to help touch up his hair dye. Sometimes he'll put some of the dye of the current colors he's using in your hair so the two of you can match!

No matter how many rings and accessories Viego bears, the one he keeps to match with you will always remain on his ring finger

Viego loves pre-show cuddles and pep talks in his dressing room

If he sees you in the crowd during a performance he'll always toss a rose to you. And he will most definitely start focusing most of his attention on you while he sings (even though it pisses off management)!

Hell, when Viego has the opportunity to, he will get on his knees and crawl to the edge of the stage so he could hold your face or hand while he sings. He knows exactly what he's doing and the effect his stage presence has on you every time he does it

When you're both out in public he will always protect you. Like hell, he'll ever let anyone get too close to his muse!

After performances, your nights together are often spent eating take-out, cuddling up to one another, and watching all of Viego's telenovelas he didn't get to watch live. You always have to hold him and wipe his dripping black mascara when he cries

Epiphanies for new songs consist of you constantly refilling his coffee cup and giving him occasional kisses while you both do your own things in silence

Despite the fact that Viego is a heavy metal musician, it won't stop him from writing love songs for you

He's a hopeless, pathetic romantic! His love songs are always in Spanish because he claims it "comes from his heart, home, and soul". It's how you know Viego is his most authentic and real self with you!

He loves the way your eyes light up when he starts to sing, the huge grin that shines when he begins to strum his guitar

#saeybaewrites #drabble #headcanons #x reader #viego #the ruined king #viego lol #lol #viego league of legends #viego x reader #lol x reader #league of legends x reader #viego santiarul molach vol kalah heigaari #viego santiarul molach vol kalah heigaari x reader #dissonance of pentakill viego #dissonance of pentakill viego x reader

[mslanna]

Almost Doesn't Count

Chapter 23 of Be My Guest now on AO3

In which Raphael inopportunely fails to use his single brain cell, Tav gets s big dose of Should Have Seen That Coming and MsLanna fucks lore five ways from Friday before running for the hills.

To Tav's surprise, answers to their letters arrive. Gale sends a whole sheaf detailing everything that happens in Waterdeep. Untouched by the destruction that ravaged Baldur's Gate, life there is easy. His tower stands, Tara forgave his long absence. He fills pages with anecdotes about his students. The gifted ones he functions as a warning to. And the less talented ones he guides onwards with unwavering support and patience.

He ends with a flamboyant and heartfelt invitation, promising to host Tav whenever and for however long they want.

Of course Tav accepts. They will visit, as soon as they can, as long as they want and see his new life, watch him teach and wield magic. All places are equally far from home if you can use a portal to get there.

Astarion wrote less excessive about what went on in Baldur's Gate. He still looks for a way to walk under the sun again and Tav’s heart hurts for him. They cannot wait to follow the slimmest of leads with him. Soon. Once their little problem is taken care off, his is next.

It’s a comforting thought and as solid a plan for the future as Tav can currently conceive of. They will do absolutely everything. At once. It is easier to think about what they will do once Mephistopheles is dead than worrying constantly about the battles and possibility of losing.

Lae'zel's letters read like update reports on her campaign against Vlaakith. Tav takes to drawing little maps and diagrams to keep things partly straight. It occupies time and lets their answers appear not utterly incoherent.

Wyll confirms Tav’s intel that the devils of Avernus leave him and Karlach alone, which doesn't keep Karlach from not leaving them alone. She has a shit list a mile long and with nobody stopping her, she goes hog wild. The main repercussion seen to be offers to fix her infernal engine to get her out of Avernus again. So far, no luck.

There are even a few lines from Karlach who doesn't want to say much because she's sure Raphael reads every word.

It's something Tav hasn't even considered. They discard the thought quickly again as well. On the one hand, they wouldn't mind. On the other hand, they don't believe he'd do it. The stuttering exchange of words with the outside world fills some of the hole Haarlep left behind.

And Tav can't keep away completely. But the visits are short. They brim with unease and the incubus has more fun things to do than endure the awkwardness between them.

Haarlep themselves shrugged the incident off completely. Nothing in their behaviour indicates they cashed in on their friend, if Tav ever was one, for their own advancement. Only natural, they call it and ask Tav to return the favour any time. But for the human it is a breach that runs deep and keeps them teetering.

And then, just like that, the time has come. Tension that rose over days peaks and submerges the House of Hope. Anticipation and exhilaration run rampant. Everybody balances on the knife's edge – dominance or defeat, the decision looms.

"It is not the end, my love," Raphael keeps assuring Tav that clings to him, "but the beginning. Everything will change but for the better. Have a little confidence in the future – or at least in me. Would I attempt this if I could not prevail?"

Tav shakes their head, rubbing it against the fabric of his doublet. The colours are subtly changed – darker, less blue, more red. Change is heralded in their devil's looks as much as everything else.

"Then let us prepare for the final victory over my father." Raphael drops a kiss onto Tav's head and pushes them away a little. In the gained space, hellfire embraces his change into fiend form.

Tav sighs and can't help but smile. He is resplendent. They run loving fingers over the blackened bones encasing golden hellfire. Raphael is a glorious beast in this form and they regret they didn't get to see him fight like this except as opponent.

The three-skulled head lowers to them, it's mane of fire wafting behind. So close to him the air smells of hot iron and dead ashes. Tav inhales deeply as they place a hand against the white bone.

The final "adieu" is already reverberating in Tav's bones but they don't want to spill it. So they climb onto the bed instead to stand next to the crown of Karsus. Their fingers follow the familiar black lines of Raphael's chest unwilling to let go. Such a foolish longing and yet overpowering.

"Can I come with you?" they ask, longing dilating their eyes and words.

"Of course, you can," Raphael replies gently. "Will you die if you do?"

Tav averts their eyes and wipes at them angrily. "Yes," they breathe. Yes, I will."

"Stay then." Black claws pinch Tav's jaw and gently turn it to face the devil. "Be safe as you always were and I will be back."

Tav bites their lips and shores up their tears for later. There is a battle that has to be fought. They pick up the crown that never felt this heavy in their hands before. But this was the last time for a while. If all went well. Which it would. It had to. There would be a break, time to breathe after this.

"Adieu mein Herz, ich kann dich nicht begleiten." Tav's voice breaks and they cannot continue. "Promise me you come back,” they breathe instead.

"I promise." The long tongue lolls out of the snout, licking over Tav's face. "For you."

Tav presses a last kiss on their devil before he turns and leaves.

The air leaves with him and Tav crumbles on the vast bed. Maybe they should have asked for a spot of stasis just to be numb while time passes anyway. Instead it is up to them once more. They scald their skin in the bath, feeling the full expanse of their body, crab red and hurting in an explicable pain that can be controlled.

The soft sheets are scarping on the sensitive skin after wards, another physical experience to overpower the brain. And the pillows and sheets still smell of Raphael and that must be comfort enough.

They wake and wander the House of Hope. The archivist is rearranging the items on display.

"Raphael will bring more treasured items with him from Mephistar," he says. "He will find the archive well prepared."

Tav stares at the empty pedestal where the Orphic Hammer once lay. It makes sense. Raphael has to know the vaults of his father, at least to an extent. There must be things in there he lusted after for centuries.

They watch the bustle for a while before they meander on. But the House of Hope is only so big. Inevitably, Tav ends up in the boudoir. The world calms for the duration it takes them to reach the bed from the entrance. A familiar calm not yet disturbed by a familiar face.

"Will you not stay?" Haarlep asks and pats the sheets beside them. "One last time."

Tav feels the irresistible pull of the incubus. They yield and climb onto the huge bed, sitting at the headboard next to the incubus. Haarlep wraps a protective wing around them and silence falls.

"I will remember you," Haarlep finally says. "When this is all over and long gone; when humans are distant memories and Faerûn a mythical country that exists only in legends told by molluscs. That's more than most humans get. Just so you know."

Tav leans against them with a sigh. It means nothing. Maybe it means something in the grand game that is life. But they recognise an outstretched hand when they see one. "I hope the molluscs are smarter than me and see through your machinations then."

"Oh, they wont." The incubus laughs. "But, as you were, they will be happy for the duration of the game. Me, a generous dispenser of happiness. Isn't that something?"

"Your happiness doesn't come without a cost," Tav murmurs. "It comes with strings attached."

"Oh, sweet little mouse, every happiness does." Haarlep wraps an arm around Tav's shoulder. "There is only one story and that story is that somebody has to leave first. You have to die one death in the end. And so many smaller ones in advance. Take your pleasure where you can."

"The way you do?"

"I decided when to leave first." Their tone is light. "It makes everything so much more convenient."

"But then it turns into a race. A race to leave first." Tav shakes their head. It's no way they want to live. "That race knows only losers."

Unthinking they peck Haarlep on the cheek before extracting themself from their wing and climbing off the bed.

Tav wanders into the library. Infernal will stay in integral part of their life and there is always more to learn. Those devils turned their language into a weapon and Tav doesn't plan to cut themself publicly.

It's unclear how many devils know or suspect Tav understands. They keep their head down and their mouth shut as yet. But one day all the hells will know. By then, Tav intends to have mastered at least sentences of medium length that are acceptably complicated in grammar.

It doesn't matter that Tav can't really concentrate. They repeat every paragraph as often as necessary. When their head hurts and the eyes start to droop, Tav folds their arms over the book, places their head on them, and closes their eyes. It's uncomfortable. But the alternative it to start studying again.

The door doesn't bang open. The fiend entering, closes it as deliberately again and strides towards Tav with confident, measured steps. The human raises their head, sleepy befuddlement replaced slowly with recognition. They beam and climb onto their desk to rise closer to their devil's height.

"Raphael."

The whisper is a prayer and an affirmation. The skulls grin back and for a moment the tongue lolls out of the central one. Long claws mesh into soft fingers as he leans down to touch his forehead against Tav's. It lasts only a moment before the human wraps their arms around the incandescent body.

Then the devil straightens, lifting Tav off the desk and they wrap their legs around his waist. "You're back," Tav murmurs against the hot bone. "It is over."

"Es ist Vollbracht." The words rumble through Tav's body in an avalanche of safety. Burning wings close around them and the towering figure makes its way through the House of Hope, cradling its prize close. Victory is to be celebrated. The library won't do.

Tav snuggles against him like a cool centre to his world. Finally all his. Finally safe. Nothing but a lavish feast will do to herald this state of perfection. When he unwraps the wing-made cocoon a little, Tav looks up and meets his muzzle with soft lips. He has hells to bring to heel and order, but this takes precedence.

# # #

Avernus is lacking in sunrises. Tav wakes anyway. The room is also lacking in Raphael but they will cut him some slack. He won a decisive battle and made time to spend with them afterwards instead of politicking. They stretch feeling the welcome soreness throughout their body.

For a golden intermezzo, they stay under the blanket, engulfed in the warmth and lingering smell of Raphael. Then they jump up. The rest of their life awaits. And it looks utterly glorious.

The door to his study stands open when Tav emerges from their suite. They peer inside and Raphael cuts the conversation with the attending three devils short. He smiles and Tav wonders how long it was since last they saw him him this relaxed. Secure in himself and his life. To think that their safety meant so much to him, made Tav's heart skip. They allow their body to follow suit and bounce into the study.

Their devil rises to meet them halfway around the desk. "Recovered?" he asks and his index finger gently pries Tav's collar from their throat to reveal a crescent of angry red teeth marks framing their shoulder. "You should have said something.

Tav smiles. The bite hums in a circle around their shoulder, saturated with luxurious memories. "I did." They capture the devils hand and press a kiss on his knuckles. "Not sure about the precise wording, but I am certain 'please' was involved."

"It was indeed." Raphael reluctantly retracts his hand. "What do you need?"

"To know what happen." Tav steps into his personal space. "To know how he died."

"It will be my pleasure." With a swift motion, he sits them on the desk, fingers tracing their face. "Where to begin. We fought a long and hard battle before we reached his palace. My father holed up in the end, maybe hoping for a siege.

"But his home was my home as well. And children will build their own secrets, unsupervised, neglected, ignored. Underestimated." He says the last word with a deep satisfaction. And Tav smiles up at him, enchanted, happy, at home. He traces their lip with his thumb. As it should be.

"Mephistopheles had nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run that I could not access. His last, most loyal guards, I slayed before his eyes all but one who I turned, right under my father's nose, took trusted loyalty and made it mine." The memory is sweet on his lips, a moment to savour for eternity.

"He was at my mercy. Bargaining as all devils will. You should have seen it. The great Mephistopheles, brought low by a cambion." The surge of power he felt then echoes through Raphael. "He offered me anything, everything I wanted in exchange for his life."

"My contract?" Raphael looks down at the human’s hopeful eyes.

"Of course." The curve of Tav's face is soft in his palm. Of course his father offered the contract. One of his last trumps. One that didn't save him in the end. "He offered me everything I had already taken by force. Offered me fealty even, to reverse our roles. And I will not lie, I did consider it. To have him at my disposal, at my mercy for however long it takes for me to tire of it."

He smiles and kisses Tav's forehead. "Then I thought of you and he received and undeservedly quick and painless end.”

"Thank you." The tremor in Tav's voice burrows deep into his chest. "So it is finally over."

"It is." Raphael wraps an arm around them. "You are safe now. I won't let anybody hurt you."

"And I promise not to sell my soul again." Tav snorts slightly and looks up at him with a lopsided grin.

"Don't worry, that can't happen."

"Can't?" Tav leans back further for a better view.

Raphael slips his index finger under their chin. "You already sold your soul, remember?"

"Yes, but Mephistopheles I dead. The contract is void."

"Unless," Raphael smiles, “the devil is killed by another devil. And that devil decides to uphold the former commitment. Your soul is in safe hands."

Tav's face freezes, then a furrow creeps over their brow. "You took my contract?"

"Of course."

Tav doesn't reply. For a long while they just stare at him. Of course. There is nothing of course about this. They were meant to be free. Mephistopheles' death was meant to free them. Not bind them to somebody else. Not even Raphael.

"Why?" they finally ask.

It is Raphael's turn to be dumbstruck. He looks down at the little mouse, finally well and truly caught. Finally all his. What answer do they expect when this has been their truth from the day they stayed with him in his House of Hope? "To keep it safe, of course. To keep you safe."

"I am safe." Tav shakes their head. "Here with you and in Faerûn."

"So you plan to go back."

"Of course. I want to visit all my friends and help them if I can. I left a life behind and I want it back." Tav blinks and breathes deeply. "The House of Hope is my home, I think of this," they gesture around, "as my home. I will always come back."

The news doesn't go down well and Gale's words echo in Tav's mind. They reach up to cup the devil's face with one hand. "Just as you always come back. I love you and I am yours – body, heart and mind."

"But not soul."

Silence falls and Tav tries to wrangle their uproar of emotions. This is not how it is to go. This is all wrong. They need to get through to Raphael, but their words are slipping through their mind like snakes through sand.

"You want to be here," Raphael finally says. It is only half a question.

"Yes."

"With me."

"Yes!"

"As it was before. Willingly. Body, heart, and mind."

"Yes." Tav murmurs. Hope flares up that they are finally getting somewhere. "But I never wanted to be bound to you by a contract!"

"What difference does it make?"

Tav stares at him, looks at the devil they know as if they see him for the first time. He sees no difference. To love is to possess and if that is impossible to obsess. "If you don't know, I don't think I can explain it to you."

The wobble of their lip is quelled by Tav biting down on it hard. They taste blood but it is a welcome counterpoint to the tears rising in their eyes.

"You are mine," the words fall from his lips hard and final. "You want to be mine."

Tav shakes their head. "Not like that, not like a – a thing. I wanted to be yours but like a commitment, not like a possession." They draw themself up with a long sigh. "If I have to spend eternity here after my death, I better go and see something else until then."

Their shoulders hunch up yet Tav turns away anyway. "Goodbye, Raphael."

The words are soft lest their voice break and Tav walks out of the study with measure steps. They don't turn around or stop until they reach the foyer, calling up the portal to Baldur's Gate. Casting a last, blurred glance around their home, Tav steps into the darkness.

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3 fanfiction #mel writes fanfic #be my guest #chapter 24 #sleazy second-hand car dealer

[robinswrld]

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart, L. Sinclair.

# summary: when a snarky red-head comes along, you begin to reflect on your past with the party and a certain sinclair in a sequence of events before, during, and after the appearance of max mayfield. # pairings: lucas sinclair x fem!reader. # warnings: cussing, bittersweet/sad ending, angst angst, unrequited love, the ‘80s, lucas kinda leads the reader on :/ # word count: 2.1k

💭cara’s thoughts: okay first, sorry for kinda totally dropping off the earth! i wrote this like two months ago but i never finished it. but now it is! anyways, some parts are significantly shorter than others! that’s what i’d like to call cara losing her motivation $$ i don’t know why i keep putting myself through writing angst. it kills me but idc!! enjoy <3

FEBRUARY 13, 1982. SOMEWHERE IN HAWKINS, INDIANA.

it was probably around seven in the morning when your house’s landline began the shrill shrieking that woke you from your sleep. lucas had deemed the day, the coldest of the year so far, perfectly suitable for broke person’s ice skating.

unfortunately, while you were preparing, your eleven year old self had neglected that fact that your friend-turned-crush hadn’t mentioned any of your other friends. as usual, you assumed dustin, will, and begrudgingly mike would join you for such occasion.

broke person’s ice-skating was a term you and will came up with back when nancy and jonathan used to take your group to a place called lover’s lake when it was frozen over.

mike and nancy wheeler both possessed a pair of ice skates, nice ice skates. the rest of you, somehow didn’t. however, jonathan byers claimed you didn’t need ice skates to ice skate, earning the confused glances of five other children, including yourself.

the older boy simply covered his huge boots in a plastic bag he stole from his mother’s work and stepped out onto the smooth ice.

it was ridiculous.

while, you and will laughed at him for a good twenty-five minutes before deciding to join him, dustin was the first to accept his own bag. lucas followed almost instantly.

you remember briefly the two slipping the second they rested their feet on the cold surface.

you and will had laughed harder.

that day though, when you arrived at the lake lucas had told you about over the phone, the only person you saw was him.

shit.

he didn’t even seem phased when your head swiveled around the area, trying to catch any sight of your other friends.

his dark eyes glistened pridefully under the rays of the morning sun and he seemed to be sitting on top of cloud nine. or ten, or whatever it was. you wondered what he could possibly be planning as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the singular bench that sat upon the shoreline.

then, you remembered what nancy had said about boys during this month.

as an eleven year old, who didn’t know a single thing about dating boys or girls, kissing, and all that other gross stuff, you didn’t quite comprehend the meaning of her words.

“if you’re really lucky, some boys will go out of they’re way to make you feel special.”

unwarranted hope rose in your chest at the thought lucas dragging you somewhere to ask you out on a date.

nancy went on dates, jonathan sometimes went on dates, your parents went on dates, you could too, right?

it was the absurd and childish words that passed through your head that made your palms begin to sweat. even when standing in the freezing cold, lucas sinclair somehow made your skin grow warm.

a silly crush, mike would have labeled it as. and maybe he was right, but in that moment by the lake, the day before valentine’s day, you swore to whoever was in the skies that you had fallen in love with your friend.

SEPTEMBER 21, 1983. WHEELER RESIDENCE.

your skin was itchy. unbelievably itchy.

so itchy, in fact, that you were distracted long enough to run face-first into the post my mike’s stairwell.

“what are you doing?”

holding your forehead in your hands, you pivoted around to face the boy in question. his usually styled bowl-shaped hair was disheveled in all the ways it could be after a twelve hour long d&d campaign.

most of your friends were long gone.

will was picked up by his brother and dustin had bid you a goodbye before racing out the door to his bike.

the only three that remained was mike, lucas, and yourself.

the entire party could sense the shift in the wheeler’s attitude after eleven’s death. he had gained a moody sneer, cracked far less jokes, and practically attacked anyone who mentioned those changes.

will was first.

but that didn’t matter right now, because you were next.

the excuse of your itchiness flowed out of your mouth along with more relentless pacing, but it seemed mike wasn’t having it.

“could you sit down?” he said, his words underlined with blatant disinterest. “you’re annoying me.”

you understood where he was coming from. eleven was your friend too. he was simply upset. blaming himself for what happened not to long ago.

so, you did as he said, and sat yourself on the musty basement couch. the boy next to you, your best friend, seemed just as agitated. however, his wasn’t pointed at you.

“could you stop being such an asshole?”

a gasp tumbled past your lips before you could stop it. lucas had never really talked back to mike after the whole “she’s a weirdo” incident.

“you’re acting like you’re the only one who lost her.” he reasoned. “i get she was your first girlfriend, or whatever, but she was our friend too.”

mike scoffed, his back turning to face you.

“i’m serious, man. you’ve been acting like steve harrington for the past two weeks! we were having fun half an hour ago!”

the smaller boy didn’t reply.

“did you even hear yourself when you snapped at will the other day? he just got back, man.”

this time, mike turned again and sat himself in-between you. what shocked you most was when he stuck both of his hands out in your’s and lucas’ direction.

he grumbled unintelligibly under his breath.

“what?”

his face contorted in mockery, “i drew first blood.”

you spared a glance at lucas, only to find him beaming at his friend.

“‘s alright, mike.”

“learned your lesson, huh, mike?”

just like the first time at the lake, you swore again to the people above, you wouldn’t stop loving lucas sinclair until your heart stopped beating.

OCTOBER 31, 1984. HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL.

you were sick to your stomach the very second your gaze fell upon her. max.

she was gorgeous. fiery red hair with the brightest eyes you’d ever seen. her skin was pale, but it held some kind of sunlight glow that complemented the light freckles that dusted her cheeks.

lucas liked her, you could tell. dustin liked her, you could tell. mike didn’t like her, you could tell. will maybe liked her? you weren’t sure.

it didn’t stop you from sitting in your room and wondering what she had that you didn’t. maybe it was the californian roots. you weren’t from california, you would never be from california.

however, you knew that lucas and dustin didn’t like max because of where she was from. the red-head could just as well have been from hawkins or some other rundown town in shitty indiana, they wouldn’t care.

they liked her because she was max.

you couldn’t be max.

her laugh sounded way different than yours. her smile was beautiful. she looked really pretty in a dress too. you couldn’t blame them. she was gorgeous.

you couldn’t hate her just because she was max. she was good. and she’s be good for either of them.

MAY 26, 1985. HENDERSON RESIDENCE.

nowadays, you spent your time with will. being the only two not in a relationship in the group pushed you both to the side. at least you were there together?

you both laughed at dustin’s stupid recommendation to “give it a shot!”

there were so many reasons that wouldn’t work.

reason a; you were still madly in love with lucas and you couldn’t just push that aside like a sugar packet.

reason b; will took his time to explain to you the meaning of homosexuality. which he dubbed, he was. he liked boys!

reason c; will was your fucking friend! you didn’t have a crush on him, and he didn’t have a crush on you. easy peasy!

while dustin was sure you liked each other because of your denial, you slapped will’s arm as you were bent over in hysterics. he was equally as a mess, tears falling from his eyes.

“yeah right!” he’d phrased through harsh wheezing. “okay dustin!”

now that you think of it, that’s the first time you’d seen will laugh like that in a long time. for some reason, even if it meant your unfortunate demise, you’d stay single for the rest of your life if it made will smile that way.

MARCH 24, 1986. WHEELER’S RESIDENCE.

this was the first time you realized you weren’t okay. the first time you realized just how much your hands shook. first time you realized the way your stomach churned painfully even when lucas and max weren’t in sight.

you weren’t okay.

lucas always seemed to make it worse.

for the first time in two days, you sat alone on mike’s front porch, simply listening quietly to your thoughts. the door creaked open behind you but you paid it no mind.

you weren’t okay.

lucas made it worse.

“hey.”

you didn’t acknowledge him. you were tired of hiding everything. sick of being alone because it felt as though you were mentally cheating on a mirage of lucas sinclair.

you weren’t okay.

and lucas made it worse.

“do you remember halloween in 8th grade?”

of course i do, you wanted to say, i would never forget.

you chose silence as your answer. you were so tired of pretending you were fine. you weren’t okay and lucas made it worse.

“do you remember what you said?”

how could i forget? i embarrassed myself.

“you said i was your best friend and that you loved me more than dustin and mike.” his words quieted near the end as if he was afraid to say them.

you said i was your best friend and that you’d always be with me, your conscious says, and then you left and ran up to max, i remember.

“i was an idiot, wasn’t i?”

yes, you wanna say so badly, yes you’re still an idiot. you’re so stupid it hurts me. you’re an idiot.

“you loved me.” he says in disbelief, “that’s crazy.”

i love you.

“what?”

you said it out loud. oh well, you shrug. what’s the worse that can happen? you lose a friend, he doesn’t love you back, he shames you — you didn’t think any of that irrelevant bullshit bothered you anymore.

you weren’t okay.

“present tense love?”

you shrug again.

“come on, give me some answers here.”

your head lulled against the cool brick wall to your left as a light sigh was finally released from your mouth. “yeah.”

lucas’ eyebrows furrowed together painfully, “yeah? yeah to what?”

“present tense.”

“you-you love me?” his throat was clogged. he couldn’t breathe. the world stopped.

“yeah.”

his throat was clogged. he couldn’t breathe. the world stopped. if he coughed, he’d bleed. if he inhaled, he’d choke. his throat was clogged. he couldn’t breathe. the world stopped.

“shit, man.”

“don’t worry,” you went with. you wouldn’t be the person to get in between a wounded relationship, whether it was an active relationship or not. “i get it. you love max, you love her a lot.”

it was lucas’ turn to sigh. “i do, but i love you too. just..”

“in a friendly way?”

“yeah.”

you laughed. the nails on chalkboard sound hurt his ears. it had never sounded like that before, so why now?

“i think i’m gonna go home.”

“what?”

“i’m gonna go home, lucas.”

“okay.”

you hoped this was him finally letting you go. giving you a freedom you craved after three years of yearning.

you stood steadily, not allowing the bare-ness of your arms phase you. you began following the small staircase down to the rough pavement, your mind ignoring the consequences of your actions.

you didn’t care anyways.

and it seemed lucas didn’t either. he didn’t bother to remind you that a inter-dimensional wizard was out on the loose, killing teenagers with boat loads of trauma.

whatever, you thought. you were tired of pretending you were fine. you weren’t okay and that was alright.

“hey!”

turning around, lucas trailing down your similar path with his jacket folded over his forearm. the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes were visible, yet you didn’t comment on them. “take it, can’t have you catching a cold.”

“thanks, lucas.”

“be careful.” i’m sorry, he means.

“i always am.” it’s okay, you mean.

#lucas sinclair x reader #lucas sinclair #stranger things x reader #stranger things #lucas sinclair angst #stranger things angst #gn!reader #robinswrld!

[ofgentleresolve-a]

HELLO DID SOMEONE SAY DEVELOPMENT MEMES, LET ME YEET SOME YOUR WAY WIEHDIWHED

💥 COLLISION, 🍩 DONUT, 🍧 SHAVED ICE, 🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL & 🌌 MILKY WAY for Lam!!

give me chara development or give me death ( ft. oc emoji asks meme w/ @jeoseungsaja )

💥 COLLISION was answered! i'll do 😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

as you might be able to tell, lam is quite...the crybaby although he's more likely to stress cry aka cry out of frustration when he can't properly express himself. comes with repressing his emotions for at least the first twenty-one years of his life :/

as for what can make him cry, surprising, it's never any of the super serious things that make him cry....like when he woke up from the accident and robin was sent to serve time, he didn't shed a single tear. he felt completely numb about it and may or may not have scolded himself over being an emotionless asshole too. that being said, when he dropped his pen involuntarily due to his arm acting up and he could no longer use it the way he used to, that's when the waterworks started...😭

🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?

milkshakes!! he likes the cold refresh sweet drinks like boba, tum tim krop, and che bà màu!!

🍧 SHAVED ICE was answered!! so i'll do 💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

since he's a plant guy, i have to do this one 😂

lilac daisy, white peony, violets, white lilacs, and lettuce

okay so a lot of these flowers ( whose definition i’m getting off of google search results ) have a lot to do with renewal and modesty, but starting with liliac daisy, that’s a symbol for new beginnings but also fidelity, something that lam is VERY known for. white peony means bashfulness but also if you want to apologize and seek forgiveness, that’s the flower you send...violets mean modesty, but also honesty, wisdom, determination, and rembrance. white lilacs are for purity bc in a way, while he is jaded, he hasn’t given up on people yet.

and then the lettuce? well he’s a practical guy. literally give him a head of lettuce instead of roses, i guarantee you’ll make him very happy JFKSLDJFKL

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

probably what robin said to him that he was a bad person, a bad friend, who was only using her for his own needs...that he was like everyone else who came before him...really made him question if he was a good person or not...( although that can also be attributed to just being in a codependent, really toxic friendhship )

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

and this is where i make the oddly personal statement that there is reason i relate to lam so much....anyways so basically one day i was like ‘what if i put all of my student anxieties and internal expectations into one person and then multiplied the pressure the feel by like three? yeah, that’s how lam was born jfsdklfjsk but that’s also back when i wrote him as a student...nowadays i like to think he’s growing and changing along with me as we transition out of school and into working life <3

#jeoseungsaja #( headcanons: lamon. ) #can't help loving others ( headcanons. ) #ALEX!! thanks for sending these in!! #hopefully these also make sense...i had a lot of fun with the last one ngl JFKSLDJFLKDSJ #but anyways pls have a wonderful day and care you <3 #under the same sky ( queue. )

[wizardnuke]

And when my cries to god were met with indifference I picked up a pen. I wrote my OWN deliverance

YEAHAHGGHHSHHHSHH

#that's what gets me. that's the line that fucking. KILLS me in more way than one bc like that's. god idk how to explain it he just did every #single thing on his own in the beginning he wrote his way out he rose up on his own. but that strength turned into pride and he begins to #victimize himself. he's right. god met his prayers with indifference. he had to figure out how to get out himself. that's something I #understand horribly well and it continues with his need to leave a legacy and his feeling that he's running out of time it's that slow #motion car crash (I've used that comparison before but it's the best I can think of) of 'I need to do more I need to make a name for myself #I need to be enough I need to prove that I'm enough and I'm valuable & I'm someone that can't be replaced I am inimitable I am an original' #that turns into arrogance and corruption and desperation into greed but it's so twisted up in his head that he can't tell the difference. #hamilton is not a good man. I hate the fandom so much bc he's not a good man and I don't want him to be seen as such especially when people #don't recognize that he didn't get it together until after it's quiet uptown and even then he wasn't good he's still a damn politician. #imo it's the line 'I start to shake when I realize that we're in the same spot my son died is that why' that he fucking gets it through his #head that he's been so wrong this entire time but anyway. that desperation served him well but it stayed when he'd made a name for himself #and it turned into corruption. and in hurricane. he's 100% victimizing himself. 'I'll write my way out' my fucking guy you fucked your way #in. this is your fault. there's no coming back from this. so it's a mixture of genuine 'the only person I've relied on is myself and it #hurts but I did it I got out and I'm proud' and 'I won't acknowledge that I've fucked up bc how can I do wrong when all I want to do is #serve this country' which he hasn't done in a while by that point. I get that. it's awful but I understand the fear and the anger that that #comes from and that's why I'm still so attached to that dumb fucking musical bc I've never seen or heard anything that so accurately brings #across the desperation that he has. that I have. every day you fight like you're running out of time. and when my prayers to god were met #with indifference I picked up a pen I wrote my own deliverance' he's wrong. but in his mind he's right and it makes sense that he thinks #that and god. slow motion car crash. nothing good can come from it the second act is about corruption and greed and arrogance and everyone #woobifies the man. you can't do that and also fucking don't do it to the historical people my god #I hate it sm when people woobify characters they do it to tony too. and peter lol like stop #they're arrogant angry fucks that want to help people so desperately that they'll tear themselves apart in order to do it #tony is arrogant. he gets better he begins to catch himself and his ptsd didn't help but he's arrogant. every damn mcu character is dknfkdnf #peter isn't. Arrogant per say. but he's steve's type of stubborn and that's dangerous. all of these people are dangerous and not always #morally correct and. why woobify these characters when you can explore how they actually interact with the world with each other #isn't human error fucking incredible. focus on it. show people's shortfalls show their mistakes and their unforgivable actions and show how #they react to it. show if they realize. tony realizes. steve has the potential to. hamilton certainly fuckin didn't for a long time #stevetony fascinates me bc of how similar and incredibly different they are. they have an understanding. #that's what tony giving him the shield was. the handshake. even in a1 on the helicarrier they saw themselves in each other's eyes #the writers preferred drama to them using their similarities and differences as a strength and it sucks bc that's what's interesting

[seijorhi]

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you. 

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere iwaizumi #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere iwaizumi hajime #yandere iwaizumi hajime x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: stalking #i've said it like 48 times today #but ily fairy #you deserve the world #if you haven't gone to wish her a happy bday #GO NOW

[astramusings]

Relationship shortfics PT.1

Character(s): Gorou and Kazuha(Separately)

Genre/warnings: Fluffy shortfics, no warnings it's just fluff, for Kazuha y/n has a cryo vision, pronouns not mentioned, not read through.

Description/prompt: fluffy shortfics for Kazuha and Gorou.

A/N: This was lowkey super cute to write up! I am a little biased when it comes to Kazuha so I unintentionally wrote more for him.

Giving gifts

Being able to surprise you with gifts is almost one of Gorou’s favorite things to do. Just seeing the way your face lights up when you receive them is enough to have his heart pounding in his chest.

There is a tremor in Gorou's hands as he holds a neatly wrapped gift out to you, the wrapping paper covering the gift is white, decorated in soft pink cherry blossoms that remind you solely of the islands that make up Inazuma. The burnt orange and white ears that lay on top of his head are twitching in what could only be perceived as nervousness given the situation. His crystal teal-colored eyes are unwavering as you carefully unwrap the gift in your hands, nimble fingers careful not to rip the precious paper. After successfully opening the box, your eyes flick up to catch the look on Gorou's face to find his eyes haven't left your form for a single millisecond.

Once the lid of the wooden box is removed, a sparkling necklace is revealed in the shape of a cherry blossom, the flower petals a beautiful rose-gold, and resting in the center of it is a vibrant amethyst gemstone. Upon seeing such an elegant piece of jewelry, tears begin to well in your eyes due to how perfect it is for you. Gorou understood your tastes perfectly when it came to buying gifts for you usually, this was no different.

"Ah, why are you crying, kitten? I thought it was perfect!" Gorou's voice breaks the silence the second one of those tears slip down your, in his eyes, perfectly sculpted face. After hearing your failed attempts to choke out a reassurance, the fox-hybrid wraps his arms around your delicate form, warm hands running down the expanse of your back.

"These better be happy tears, kitten." he whispers, breath barely audible over the light breeze washing over the two of you.

Taking you on dates

Surprising you with a date is Kazuha’s specialty and his favorite thing to do when it comes to you. Each passing date seems to be more astounding than the one before it, he really did want to see which ones you reacted to the most.

There is a delicate breeze in the air that sends thin wisps of your hair grazing over the smooth skin of your cheeks, nearly tickling them with how delicate the touch is, similar to the kisses Kazuha places upon your skin. Kazuha. Your mind drifts back to the white-haired man that captured your heart nearly a year ago, the hint of a smile curving the corners of your lips up at your fond memories together. You were sitting on the bow of the Alcor, legs crossed underneath as you studied the waves of the ocean spreading out beyond where the ship was anchored at an unknown island. The Liyue cryo vision on your hip was emitting a soft light, the cool energy spreading through your veins like an icy wildfire while you made little frost flowers in your hands to keep yourself entertained.

Kazuha had told you not to leave the Alcor, his melodic voice not giving you much room to protest, especially when those gentle lips pressed against your own in such a nice form of persuasion. Vermillion eyes lit up with both pride and relief as you agreed to his terms, a smile blossoming over the man's pale cheeks before he turned to vanish onto the unexplored island after whispering a promise to your lips.

"Fifteen minutes, that's all I need. After that time is up, you may follow my footsteps directly North, the wind will guide you to my location."

Those fifteen minutes pass rather swiftly, the sun was beginning to set, dying golden rays sinking below the horizon of the vast ocean ahead. Time was up and you needed to find out where your darling samurai had gone. After traveling for nearly five minutes, (the journey is much quicker due to a few wind currents) you come to a halt, a few feet away from a cliff. The sky behind the cliff has shifted from a soft glow of orange thanks to the dying sun, to a vast array of pinks and purples. Vibrant colors left in the sun's wake swirl together amongst the clouds, creating various shades that could have seemed impossible. On the cliff sits your samurai, Kazuha's hair usually worn up is now cascading down his shoulders, the backdrop of the sky behind him only aids in accenting his beauty.

Beside Kazuha sits miniature oil lanterns as well as a basket most likely full of new foods you have been dying to try. As his head turns to lock his eyes over your form, all breath leaves your lungs at how undeniably fond his ruby gaze is. His eyes latch onto yours, freezing you in place, a warm smile blossoming over his cheeks as it always does when he lays eyes on you.

"Join me, my dove. There are many poems I want to share with you under the blanket of the stars tonight."

#gorou x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #gorou x you #gorou x y/n #kazuha #gorou #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you

[deathbyjoong]

ATEEZ Honeymoon HCs

Summary: I wrote a few thousand words on what I thought a honeymoon would be like with each member of ATEEZ. I hope you all enjoy ✨

Many many thanks to @bfyunho​ for beta-ing and generally being my favorite person 💕

Warnings: fluff and smut. 18+ ONLY!

Seonghwa

Y’all already KNOW that a honeymoon with Seonghwa is just gonna be two weeks of him exercising his duality

Constant love-making? Absolutely. But also! Lots of interesting things to do and many opportunities to make memories

Where’s he gonna do that? A large resort suite all to yourselves in Mediterranean ItalyIt’s warm, sensual, fun, perfect--everything you ever wanted

Days spent wandering the town, swimming, finding museums and restaurants

Seonghwa insists on taking selfies at every single location--he wants to know every single one of these moments long after his memory has failed him

Sunbathing on a private sailboat on the Amalfi Coast, soaking in the vitamin D 

The ship’s captain finds a beautiful, unoccupied spot in a shallow cove, and drops anchor

He then heads into the cabin of the boat to give you and your husband some privacy

Seonghwa sits on a lounge chair behind you, rubbing sunscreen on your shoulders

He’s letting his hands move just as slowly and sensually across your skin as he wants, taking his time in listening to your breath hitch in your throat

Eventually ducking his head down to press his lips to a spot on your neck he hasn’t covered yet, while his thumbs still rub circles on your shoulders

Giving all his attention to that one area, biting lightly then sucking the skin to soothe it

You lean your head back, giving him all the access he could want, and a soft sigh escapes your parted lips

His hair tickles your shoulder, but Seonghwa doesn’t linger long before he’s turning you to face him so he can kiss you properly

He’s got the ties of your swimsuit undone in seconds, and you throw your legs over Seonghwa’s hips as soon as it’s off

You grind yourself on him, abusing his swim shorts in your pursuit of a little friction

Hwa grips you by the waist, firmly but not enough to hurt. Just enough to get you close--enough to help you rise and fall on him

Something occurs to you, and you break the kiss to breathlessly murmur in his ear

“You need sunscreen, too. You’re gonna burn.”

Hwa chuckles, dangerously low, flashing his teeth as he reaches down with one hand and picks up the bottle he’d set on the deck

“My wife is so considerate,” he coos, handing it to you

You take it, rolling your eyes. But Seonghwa’s arms tighten around you once more, and you’re brought close to the tent in his shorts again

“Will you put some on me too, then?” He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that are completely betrayed by his pupils, blown wide

You squeeze some of the lotion into your hands and let the bottle fall down as you spread it over his shoulders

You’re consumed by his kiss again, gripping his shoulders, arms, neck, wherever you can reach

His skin rubs slick against yours because of the sunscreen, and all you can taste is the salt on Seonghwa’s lips as he does away with his shorts and finally pushes into you

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes of soft moans, grinding, and his mouth against your neck for you to come, head thrown back and facing the sun

Your husband isn’t long after, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder as he loses himself in you

When you’ve come down from your high, Seonghwa stands slowly and pulls you with him

“Let’s go swimming.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon wading in the shallow waters of the cove, soaking in the sun and kicking up the white sand with your toes

When the sun starts to slide down the sky, setting everything aglow with orange and gold, Seonghwa stands behind you and holds his lips to the back of your head

His arms are around you, and your joined form sways gently with the waves until the sun falls away completely

When you get back to the resort, you both shower off and Seonghwa presents you with a beautiful dress to wear to dinner

He wines and dines you every single night, even making an effort to learn some Italian to more easily place your orders and interact with locals

And each night, he lifts his glass and toasts, “To you, Mrs. Park.”

Hongjoong

It took exactly zero convincing for you to get Hongjoong to agree to Paris

He loved the idea right away, because it’s a city known for its art and fashion

You reserve a penthouse room in the heart of Paris, with floor to ceiling windows and sheer white curtains

The two of you arrive in Paris decked out in the most impeccable airport fashion, ready to paint the city red

Unfortunately, the jet lag hits you both a little harder than expected

So you spend the rest of the first day sleeping and eating in bed, to the backdrop of sultry French soul music playing over the radio

The next morning, you wake up just as the sun is beginning to peek over the rooftops

It sends gold rays through the blue light of the morning

You slept with the windows cracked, and the soft breeze blows through the curtains

He’s sleeping next to you, and you curl up against him, perfectly content to get a few more minutes of sleep

His t-shirt smells like him--like home-- and you smile to yourself

But something less wholesome is going on his head

Hongjoong’s eyebrows tilt and his lips part as he whimpers in his sleep

It’s an expression you recognize, although he’s only ever made it while he’s very much awake

Usually as you take him, nails grazing down his stomach, watching his head fall back against the pillows

You have to wonder if that’s what he’s dreaming about, but you’re not about to sit by and let the dream version of you have all the fun

Throwing a leg over his hips, you rest your hands on Joong’s chest and slowly kiss his neck

He moans softly, eyes opening as he wakes

His hands find your hips, pulling you against the growing hardness in his sweatpants, and there’s a sheepish smirk on his face

“Sounded like a good dream,” you whisper against his lips

Hongjoong smiles in the dim light, his eyes flicking to your mouth

“It was,” he replies

His hand is creeping up your back, fingers purposely snagging on your t-shirt

“But nothing compared to this, and nothing compared to you,” he says, and kisses you firmly

You’re not usually one for morning sex, but this lazy love is exquisite in its own way

It’s all slow touches and kisses that are soft but not lacking in passion

Hongjoong shifts to be on top of you and your noses bump, causing both of you to giggle a bit

Joong hides his face in your neck, but takes the opportunity to place a few kisses there

The pair of you take your time in climbing the mountain, but you reach the peak at the same time, hands clasped and legs tangled

You tilt your head a little to watch his face as he comes because the sight of him, and the sounds he’s making, are nothing short of gorgeous

Following an equally slow comedown, you shower off together and clamber back into bed for another couple hours of sleep

When you’re both a bit more rested, you set out on foot to explore the city

Munching on croissants with Hongjoong at an outdoor cafe, and sipping espressos before setting off again

You stop at a small flower stand, and Joong buys you a handful of roses

As you walk on, he has his hands in his pockets, and you loop your arm through his

The content smile playing on his lips gives you a high, and you bask in the moment

The following day, you drive to the Musee du Louvre, and stay until closing time

Joong looks at the art, and you look at him, admiring your own masterpiece

You’re thankful you ended up here because it gives you a perfect, constant view of his profile, from his starry eyes to the tip of his nose to his lovely mouth

He catches you staring at him, and blushes while trying to suppress a smile

You do another day trip to the palace and gardens at Versailles, holding hands as you stroll through the ornate, golden halls and endless paths adorned by flowers

And, of course, it’s not a trip to Paris, or a trip with Hongjoong, if there isn’t shopping for clothes at some point

You pick outfits out for each other in the city’s best boutiques de vetements, from sleek luxury retailers to some of the more underrated shops in the art district

The two of you end up having to buy another suitcase for all the clothes you bring back, but this turn of events is shocking to no one

It’s the most fun you could have on a vacation, and your only consolation for having to go home at the end of the week is getting to start the best adventure of all

Being married to your best friend

Yunho

You’ve always wanted to visit Austria

What better occasion than your honeymoon to spend a week in Salzburg?

It’s all wonderful-- the music, scenery, history, and dancing!

It’s a series of beautiful moments from the very start of your trip

You and Yunho watch Harry Potter together on the plane there, sharing earbuds and mouthing the spells together

At one point, Yunho moves the armrest so the two of you can comfortably hold hands

You doze off together, heads resting against each other, and are only awoken by the captain announcing that you’ve landed

You were worried about jet lag, but your Energizer bunny husband has an abundance of contagious excitement

You drop your bags at the hotel, change clothes, and immediately set off on your first adventure

It’s a sunny, breezy day and the sweet aroma of flowers on balconies is everywhere

You’re strolling hand in hand down a cobblestone road in the historic district of the town when you and Yunho hear the music at the same time

You’re drawn like magnets to the sound of a small band playing on the sidewalk

Yunho pulls you in for a dance, just like you knew he would, one grasping yours and the other pulling you close by the waist

As he swings you in circles, you think to yourself, this is why you married him

His carefree nature, spontaneity, and the joy his spirit radiates

And the laughter in your ears that’s just as much music as the instruments being played on the corner of the street

Though you don’t know the steps, and you’re pretty sure Yunho is making them up on the spot, you never once stumble over each other

He ends the dance by twirling you around, tickled pink at how much fun you’re both having

Next, you find a little outdoor cafe, and insist on feeding him yourself

Yunho is blushing and acting like he thinks it’s ridiculous, but when you finally give up, he picks up the fork and hands it back to you with a sheepish smile

You giggle and scoop up a piece of the chocolate cake you’re sharing, watching his cheeks turn pink as he accepts it

By the time the cake is finished, you’ve got a bit of chocolate icing on the corner of your mouth

Instead of just pointing it out to you, Yunho becomes Yunhoe

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reaches across the little table and swipes his thumb across your lip

You thought he was just being cute, until he brings his hand back to his mouth and sucks the icing off his thumb

As you watch with a smirk, Yunho gives you a look that makes it clear he’s doing the math in his head of how quickly you can get back to the hotel room

He throws a handful of Euros on the table (more than the bill would’ve been) and grabs your hand

Twenty minutes later, you stumble backwards out of the elevator, arms thrown around Yunho’s shoulders

His mouth is hot over yours, and you have to laugh at yourself for not even making it one day before jumping each other

But hey-- what are honeymoons for, right?

He breaks your kiss only to swipe the key card at the room door, but his lips are right back on yours as soon as he can

Yunho picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and blindly pushes the door open behind you

You’re not sure whose idea it was, or if either of you even thought about it, but you end up bent over the balcony railing, your lower half shielded from pedestrians below only by flower boxes

Yunho’s got one hand around your waist, and the other hand braced on the railing

He’s groaning softly between kisses against the side of your neck, thrusting into you from behind

At one point his hand drifts from your waist to press into your clit, causing your head to fall back against his shoulder

Yunho puts a hand over your mouth to stifle the moans that you can’t keep in

You come shortly after with a muffled cry into his palm, and Yunho bites into your shoulder as gently as he can to muffle his own noise when he comes a moment later

You take a few moments to come down before Yunho walks you inside to clean off

You collapse onto the bed together for a much-needed nap, dozing off peacefully in your favorite place in the world-- your husband’s arms

Yeosang

You had to reason with Yeosang just a little to get him to agree to go to Greece for your honeymoon

But once he realized why you picked it out of all places, he came around

It offers food, sunshine, fresh air, and many adventures in a place made for exploring

Getting excited on the plane ride in, giggling with each other and looking out the window at the islands like a couple of excited kids

You go searching for the best views in Santorini, climbing through the endless maze of steps between white and blue buildings

So many selfies--Yeosang smiling shyly with his cheek pressed to the side of your head

After a while, he really starts to relax and have fun, and his smiles in your pictures get wider and wider

One day is devoted entirely to walking through the market in town, buying random food items just because they smell good and holding them out for the other to try

At one point Yeosang slips away while you’re not paying attention

Trying not to panic, you look around, feeling like a child who’s lost their mom at a supermarket

Just as you’re starting to lose your breath, Yeosang catches you by the waist

You knew it was him just by his touch, but you still look to his face for the reassurance that he’s there

There’s a glint in his eye that implies he’s amused by your concern at losing him, but he tells you it’s okay, and shows you where he went:

A bright bouquet of flowers no doubt native to the island is bursting from his hands in marvelous yellows, pinks, and whites

You recognize Asphodels, but the rest are beautiful, nameless mysteries

They almost get crushed between your bodies as you throw your arms around Sangie and kiss him in full public view

No one seems to mind it though-- it appears as though love is in the air on this day, carried by the light sea breeze and lit by the sun

Yeosang smiles into the kiss before reminding you to be careful of your flowers

You take them from him with a grin, but when you’re on your way home, the smile turns into a pout

“Sang?” “Yeah?” “My feet hurt.”

Yeosang fakes a dramatic sigh, but it’s not another second before he’s crouching in front of you, holding his arms out behind him

You gleefully climb on, and Yeosang carries you the rest of the short walk to your AirBnB

He’ll never say it out loud, but his favorite thing in the world is feeling your arms around his shoulders

Just like on your wedding day, just like now, just like he wants every day for the rest of his life

Another day, the two of you are hiking through some of the more rural parts of Santorini, and happen upon a beautiful wild olive grove near a cliff face

You come back the next morning with a blanket and some snacks, and spend the entire day in the shade

Admiring him as you sit by the seaside, because he looks so stunning among the greens and blues and yellows

Again--SO. MANY. SELFIES

It’s not your fault he looks that good

Maybe he looks a little too good

Maybe you make a mess of your picnic blanket after grabbing your husband and pulling him on top of you

Once Yeosang looks around and ascertains that there’s absolutely no one around, he’s all game

His hands are bunching the skirt up around your hips, his mouth greedy and searching your neck for any spot that’ll make you whimper when he sucks into it

Your spot in paradise turns into rapture as his fingers meet your core, massaging you until you start to dig your nails into his shoulder

You’ve got one hand on his bicep and the other in his hair when he takes you in one smooth motion, finding his rhythm like he never dropped it in the first place

You come apart beneath him, and beneath the softly rustling leaves of the olive trees

The two of you fall asleep shortly after, completely relaxed in each other’s arms

Holding hands on your walks through the town at night, underneath the twinkle lights

You’ve married your best friend, and this is the best beginning to your lives together that you could ever imagine

Happiness settles around you like a light blanket, and you hope it stays forever

San

Don’t ask me why, but a glass igloo hotel in Iceland seems perfect

It’s cozy but not too small, and it’s the picture of quiet luxury

The glass walls and ceiling give you a beautiful view of the wide Icelandic sky, which is clear as crystal after a fresh snowfall

There’s a fireplace against one wall, with a fuzzy rug in front of it and many, many pillows

You spend the first evening snuggled up there with San, sipping hot chocolate and talking about every random thing you can think of

He keeps finding reasons to say “my wife”, getting all giggly every time he does

After you fall asleep, another storm rolls through, dropping an extra foot of powdery snow all around you

You and San are oblivious, however, because you’re both fast asleep under several layers of blankets

Safe and warm in your little nest, you nuzzle your face into San’s neck, and he tightens his arms around you in his sleep

Because being with you, and keeping you close, comes as naturally to him as breathing

When you wake up, you see the wonderland outside and it’s not even a discussion-- you and Sannie are outside as fast as you can put on your clothes

You play in the snow together, and his adorable laugh echoes around you every time he beans you with a snowball

Chasing each other around like little kids, giggling and kicking up the snow

San catches you by the waist and spins you around, making sure to never drop you

You wrestle around a bit but eventually end up making snow angels together

When you stand up to admire your outlines in the snow, San pulls you close and presses his face into your hair

Putting an arm around his waist, you brush some of the snow off his jacket

He catches your hand, and holds it to his chest, where you can feel his heart pounding

“Never forget that this beats for you, okay?”

You almost cry, but opt to pull San to you and press kisses all over his face instead

He just giggles and accepts every single peck on his quickly-heating cheeks

Later that day, you make your way to the hot springs nearby, running as fast as you can to the water’s edge after dropping your coats

It’s a rush to the senses, slipping into the hot spring and away from the frigid air

San is behind you, gripping your hand tightly

You find a ledge that’s been carved into the rock underwater, and make yourselves comfortable on it

San leans back, eyes closed, and you can see the puffs of his breath coming slower and slower as he fully relaxes

You lean back against his arm, enjoying the feeling of his skin and the soft water pooling around you

You end up throwing your legs over his thighs and curling into his side

His arm goes around your shoulders, and you feel every bit of worry leave your body

You’re heavy with relaxation, but you feel lighter than ever

That evening, you’re watching a movie and sipping spiked hot chocolate when a flash of green lights up the igloo

Gasping, you stand up to stare skywards, mouth open

San turns off the movie and moves next to you, taking your hand and squeezing it lightly

You watch the Northern Lights in silence as they ripple across the sky in vivid purples, blues, and greens

A few minutes into the show, you glance over at San to see his eyes glittering with all the colors

He looks so beautiful, holding entire galaxies, and he doesn’t even realize it

When the lights begin to fade down, you reach over and pull San to you

He knew what you wanted from the first millisecond of touch

He responds in kind, tugging you as close to him as he can and making quick work of both your shirts

Chests pressed together and breathing ragged, you let yourselves fall back onto the rug

Arms and legs tangle as you make love beneath the glass ceiling, and the auroras begin to flicker again, making everything that much more beautiful

Falling asleep in each others’ arms, not only for the warmth, but because you love him more than anything in the world

Mingi

Madagascar!

It’s a lesser known honeymoon destination, with fewer people than some of the more popular spots in Europe or the Caribbean

You have your own bungalow on the beach, with room service twice a day and spa services as well

Getting massages and face masks with Mingi? Yes. Doing so in matching fluffy white robes? Double yes.

Going on a safari adventure to see the lemurs!

You and Mingi pile into the backseat of an open-air Jeep and a driver takes you around one of the wildlife refuges

You two have the time of your lives looking at all the animals, grabbing each other and pointing when you see a new one

He’s smiling so big the entire time, and his happiness is contagious

You both sleep in late every day just because you can--no alarms, just birds twittering and sunlight filtering through the blinds

Waking up in each other’s arms, nestled under a layer of soft blankets

All you have to do is open your eyes, and Mingi is right there, sleeping soundly with the corners of his mouth turned up

His hair is tousled and he looks so peaceful

That is, until you try to get up to make breakfast, and he refuses to let you get out of bed

He doesn’t even wake up; just throws one arm around you and hugs you tight, humming in his sleep with a little pout on his lips

You can’t help but smile, and relent to his cute charm

An hour or so later, when both of you wake up, Mingi kisses you all over your face

It’s the best way to say “good morning” in his opinion, and you’re pretty sure he’s right

Another day, you do a guided hike through Amber Mountain National Park

There are even more lemurs, and many other animals

The air is so clean you can’t even believe it, and peace seeps into you with each step further into the lush, green wilderness

You stop to swim in an emerald pool at the foot of a small waterfall, and your guide steps away to give you a moment of privacy

You get close to Mingi, resting your hands on his shoulders and pressing your forehead to his

The water flows softly around you, but Mingi is your rock--steadfast and comfortable to you always

He kisses you sweetly, and you feel any tension he might have had leaving his body with each deep inhale

Your favorite moment from the trip, however, has to be your journey to the Avenue of the Baobabs

The Baobab trees have long been a legendary symbol of the African wilds, but seeing them up close in reality is its own level of breathtaking

Nothing could have prepared you for just how massive the Baobabs are, towering above the horizon as you approach in your tour Jeep

You’re dropped off at the beginning of the path that winds through hundreds of the giant trees, and told to meet back there in a couple of hours

Mingi pulls you down the trail excitedly, telling you that if he had to be a tree, he would be one of these

You snap your favorite photo ever that afternoon

It’s a picture of Mingi, grinning widely, hugging a Baobab (or trying to, since that particular tree had a diameter of about fifteen feet)

He looks so happy, almost childlike, and the joy just radiates off of him

That picture gets framed the second you return from your trip, and it’s also the lockscreen on your phone

Although your days are spent visiting every destination on the island, your evenings are a much-needed quiet time to recharge

You and Mingi snuggle up for a movie some nights, and other nights you drink on the porch and listen to the sounds of the jungle

Sometimes you get distracted from the movie or the scenery, and kiss Mingi a whole bunch instead

He’s more than willing to pull you close, and even carry you off, when you whisper something sinful in his ear

But no matter what you get up to, his love and sweetness are in every touch

Whether you’re out and about, or enjoying a quiet moment to yourselves, his arm is around you always, and you never have to ask twice for extra kisses

Wooyoung

A beach resort in Turks and Caicos seems like the perfect place to go with Wooyoung

Hear me out-- it’s got music and tourists that are just as loud as he is

Crystal clear, bright blue waters greet you as the two of you hitch a ride from the airport

All the windows in the cab are down, because it’s sunny and just the right kind of warm

Salty sea air fills your lungs and the wind breezes through your hair

You’re given complementary rum punch when you check in, and it’s the perfect start to your trip

You and Wooyoung drop your bags off at the room and immediately change into your swimsuits

The resort backs right up to the beach, so you run out in your sandals, hand in hand as you make a beeline toward the water

The sand is hot beneath your feet, but you don’t even notice because you’re so excited and the water! is so! blue!

You crash into the surf seconds later, the warm water swirling around your legs

You wade through the water until you’re chest deep, then kick up your feet and float on your back

There are no breakers, nor boats allowed, in the calm waters of the bay, so you float in the soft blue for a little bit, content to just let the tide wash you back to shore in whatever timeline it sees fit

You reach out at the line between sea and sky, meeting the skin of Wooyoung’s arm

He’s still standing, staring in wonder at the paradise around you, but he takes your hand without thinking

He’s your anchor, letting you float without drifting away

You spend the next several hours going back and forth between the sea and the sand, finding beach chairs to lounge on while you lay in the sun

As the sun starts to fall in the sky, you decide to head back to the room to shower off and get dressed for a fancy dinner

You’re minding your business, rinsing the shampoo out of your hair, when the bathroom door opens and Wooyoung pokes his face inside

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. It’ll save water,” you respond, smiling

Woo sheds his swimshorts and joins you, slipping in as fast as he can to keep the steam inside the glass door of the shower

You massage shampoo into his hair, enjoying his little hums of appreciation

He rinses it out while you wash your body, and you stand behind him as he washes off too

His back is to you and you openly stare at the water running down his back

You feel heavy, relaxed, from spending all day in the sun, but there’s one thing that could make this afternoon even better

Once all the soap is off of him, you step forward and kiss the spot between his shoulder blades

Never a stranger to your unspoken wishes, Wooyoung leans his head back as you kiss your way up to his shoulder

When you can’t reach any more, he turns and kisses you, hard

He’s got one hand snaked around your waist and the other holding your face to his

Your arms are around his shoulders in a heartbeat, and he backs you against the tile

It’s cold, but the warm water is still running between your bodies, giving you shivers

Wooyoung breaks the kiss only to kneel in front of you, throwing your leg over his shoulder

He brings you to the edge with his mouth, then stands again, keeping your leg hitched over his hip

When he fucks you, you’re worried that people are going to see the scratches on his shoulders the next day at the beach

But eventually, you can’t be bothered to think about it, and you lose yourself in his touch instead

You come apart shortly after, chests heaving and skin pressed to wet skin

A little while later, you’re toasting one another over dinner

The restaurant offers many amazing local delicacies, and Wooyoung insists on hand-feeding you at least half of them throughout your trip

There’s live music every night at the resort’s restaurant & bar, and Wooyoung doesn’t think twice about pulling you with him to the dancefloor

You’re not overly confident in your dancing skills, but Woo pulls you close and shows you some simple steps as other couples join around you

After a couple of songs, you’re able to get into the groove of the funky music that the island loves so much

Wooyoung’s smile is all you need to know you’re moving the right way, and you dance to a few more songs before going back to the bar counter for more fruity drinks

The two of you continue to get tipsy, then walk to the beach and make out in the sand like a couple of teenagers

You’re both giggling between kisses, digging your toes into the sand, and existing purely in the moment

Everything is sweet, from the taste of pineapple on his tongue to the heady aroma of plumeria blooms in the trees

Every day is a beach day in this place. You’ve never had this much fun, splashing and playing in the water, laughing nonstop

One afternoon, Wooyoung is passed out on a beach chair under an umbrella, lulled to sleep by the day’s warmth and the sounds of the ocean

After taking a picture of him to giggle at later, you get an idea

The air is fragrant with the sweet smell of the thousands of flowering bushes that are planted throughout the resort’s grounds

Nobody would miss a few of those flowers, would they? If you were to, say, pluck some and decorate your husband with them?

You slip away from the chairs and your sleeping Woo to gather a few blooms from the nearest row of landscaping, returning with sweet-smelling handfuls of them

You giggle to yourself, putting the flowers all around Wooyoung’s head like a little halo of yellows, whites, and pinks

He doesn’t even notice them until he wakes up, gets back in the water, and sees a bunch of petals in the surf around him

You laugh and take photos of all of it

Being on a catamaran at sunset, sitting side by side with your head on his shoulder

The sky is painted in vivid oranges and reds, and Woo’s hand rests on your thigh, his breathing slow and even next to you

The wind is a bit cool on your wet skin, but the sun still delivers warmth, and you inhale the smell of saltwater on Wooyoung’s skin

He turns his face slightly to kiss the top of your head, and you smile knowing that his love for you comes without him even having to think about it

As the boat smoothly cuts through the water, you feel completely at peace

You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and it’s hard to think about your life turning out any other way than this moment, with this man

Jongho

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Incredible local food, soccer matches, constant music, breathtaking city scenery--it’s a neotropical dream

First of all, Jongho is amazing to travel with

Being the eldest of his family, he’s well-prepared with a bag full of snacks, meds, toiletries, headphones, and neck pillows for both of you

He looks so cute on the flight, snuggled up in his complimentary blanket and neck pillow

He’s pouting in his sleep and you take several photos just because

When you get to the hotel room, he bravely offers to carry your luggage up the stairs for you

But he makes you wait at the bottom of the stairs so that he can come back and scoop you into his arms

Because he insists on carrying you bridal-style at every opportunity, starting with your arrival to the room

It’s a suite on the second floor, with its own balcony overlooking the main walkway below

You can look out over shops and restaurants and bars, all the nightlife in one place

You change out of your airport clothes, then venture out to grab some drinks and go shopping-- the boys had bullied Jongho into promising that he’d bring back gifts

The two of you are buzzing by the time night falls, but your feet are sore from walking and you’re exhausted from the flight

So you grab some food to-go from one of the restaurants and take it back to the room

You chow through dinner with the balcony doors open, allowing the music and chatter of the streets to carry in on the soft, warm breeze

Going into food comas immediately after eating, you and Jongho pass out on top of the covers, facing each other with hands clasped in the middle

You wake up to brilliant sunlight and Jongho’s arm thrown over you

He’s your life-size teddy bear, and you snuggle closer to him for warmth and comfort

When you both get up and around, you surprise Jongho with tickets to this year’s Superclasico-- only the biggest soccer match in Buenos Aires!

Jongho tries to play it cool, but you can tell he’s absolutely giddy at getting to attend a sports game while he’s here

He loves soccer, after all, and he can’t stop smiling the entire way to the stadium

He practically drags you by the hand to your seats, which are so close to the field that you can hear the footballers yelling to each other

Jongho doesn’t sit down a single time during the game, shouting excitedly in Korean even though he doesn’t know anything about these teams or who to root for

He’s just glad to be there, and it’s an absolutely fantastic match

On your short walk home, he’s got so much energy from being amped up by the game that he stops you on the sidewalk and tells you to get on his back

You blush profusely, but who are you to say no? Besides, you love seeing him be this carefree

The two of you stick out like a sore thumb in the streets of Argentina since you’re giggling like crazy and he’s singing to you in a language that definitely isn’t local

You indulge in some amazing street food before going back to the hotel and getting ready for the evening

He got tickets to a theater show, and it gives you an opportunity to get all dressed up

Your husband looks so handsome in his casual suit, and when you walk out in your dress, he’s holding roses

The show is wonderful, and you’re both part of the standing ovation it receives

You throw off your shoes when you get home, but there’s so much excitement outside that the night is hardly over

Standing on your balcony, listening to singing in the streets and bars below, with Jongho’s arms around you from behind

This man clearly did his research before coming here, because he actually knows some of the songs in Spanish and you bet your ass he serenades you as musicians pass by below

There are fireworks some nights for no apparent reason other than that the city exists to be a technicolor celebration of life

There is no better place to start this marriage, and no better person to be married to

#ateez #ateez headcanons #ateez fic #ateez hcs #ateez fluff #ateez smut #seonghwa #hongjoong #yeosang #yunho #mingi #san #jongho #wooyoung #kpop #Kpop hcs #fic #writing #my writing

[damonalbarn]

Hey I was wondering if you knew the article that Justine spoke about suzi in?!

It was in The Guardian in 2000. Here you go:

Sweet revenge

In the mid 90s, Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn were the First Couple of Britpop. Then he used a Blur album to rake over their break-up, while she languished in obscurity amid rumours of heroin addiction. Now she's back with a new album, and it's her turn to exorcise her demons.

Caroline Sullivan

Friday March 24, 2000

As Alison Moyet once said, it's hard to write a decent song when you're happy. Rock bands thrive on romantic turmoil in their private lives, without which they would be reduced to padding out lyrics with football scores and the weather.

Thus it was for Blur's Damon Albarn in mid-1998 when he sat down to write what would become the 13 album. His eight-year relationship with Justine Frischmann of the chart-topping Elastica, whom he once described as **"the only person who's ever been completely necessary to me" **had just ended, at her instigation. Pained and humiliated, he decided to exact revenge by exposing their most intimate details to public scrutiny.

The outcome? Embarrassment for Frischmann, a number one album for Blur and a bit of a result for Albarn.

Break-up albums are by definition both embittered and yearning - in the case of Marvin Gaye's vindictive Here, My Dear, they're just plain nasty - but 13 got more up-close and personal than could be considered gentlemanly. Albarn portrayed his former partner as neurotic, even slipping apparent drug references into the single Tender: "Tender is the ghost, the ghost I love the most/Hiding from the sun, waiting for the night to come". Frischmann was the ghost, supposedly, who was on the verge of being consumed by what one music paper euphemistically called "the darkness at the heart of Elastica".

Frischmann's response can be found on a song called The Way I Like It, which appears on Elastica's first album in five years, The Menace (out next month): "Well, I'm living all right and I'm doing okay/Had a lover who was made of sand, and the wind blew him away".

This is unlikely to be her last word on the subject. As she ambivalently begins her first round of interviews since 1996, she's finding that everyone has the same three questions. Why did Elastica nearly sabotage a promising career by taking so long to follow up their million-selling debut? Had Frischmann taken leave of her senses when she walked out on Mr Britpop? And what about the drug rumours?

"One journalist said to me, 'Dahling, I heard you were on heroin - Mahvelous!' " she says with some amusement. "Drugs are around, but I'm not that interested and never have been, although there have been elements of party animal in my band. The rumours are a lot to do with rock'n'roll mythology, where people want to believe you're having a more exciting time than you are."

The only drugs on her person today, as she perches on the edge of an armchair in her publicist's north London living room, are Marlboro Lights. Her other indulgences are two cups of herbal tea and a Cadbury's Flake cupcake, which she nibbles with well-bred pleasure. Her dark eyes are clear, and her long, tanned body is a testament to the virtues of a daily swim in a pool near her Notting Hill home. Only Elastica know whether they really succumbed to heroin and hedonism after their self-titled debut made them more famous than they'd ever expected to be, but if they did, Frischmann, 30, seems little the worse for it.

Given the current predominance of damnable boy bands, the Britpop mid-90s are beginning to seem like a halcyon period for English music. It was a time when the underground went overground, and a self-described "little punk band" like Elastica could sell 80,000 albums in a week.

More than a few loser guitar groups saw Britpop as a licence to print money, but Elastica, led with cool elan by the androgynous Frischmann, were one of its gems. The Blur connection was a marketing godsend (Frischmann and Albarn met on the London indie circuit, she as guitarist in an early line-up of Suede and girlfriend of frontman Brett Anderson, he as a cherubic baggy hopeful), yet the spiky-haired Elastica LP embodied that euphoric time like nothing else.

Frischmann, guitarist Donna Matthews, drummer Justin Welch and bassist Annie Holland were unprepared for the album soaring to number one in its first week. When they signed their record deal, Frischmann, whose great-grandfather was a conductor of the Tsar's orchestra at the Summer Palace in Byelorussia, was five years into an architecture degree at London University. A liberal north London Jewish upbringing - her engineer father built the Oxford Street landmark Centrepoint - had instilled expectations of success, but the reality of being photographed in the supermarket and having her rubbish stolen was a shock. Fiercely independent, she also resented her unsought role as half of Britpop's First Couple.

There was more. Two of Frischmann's musical heroes, The Stranglers and Wire, decided that two Elastica songs were suspiciously similar to two of their own tracks, and won royalties. Meanwhile, there were malicious rumours that Albarn had done much of the work on the record. He hadn't, but he did find Justine's success in America, where she was substantially out-selling Blur, hard to endure.

"It was very hard for him to deal with and he's very confrontational," she says, with the flattering openness of someone who prefers interviews to be more like conversations. She admits she often says too much, but in an era of image control and spin, her honesty makes her a one-off. Not that she's likely to land herself in it too badly - she possesses the intellectual ammunition to look after herself, which must have been instrumental in attracting two of rock's more articulate stars, Albarn and Anderson.

She's been accused of being a professional rock girlfriend, though it was probably they who were lucky to get her. She spent the cab ride over reading the Sylvia Plath letters in Monday's Guardian, and muses on the irony of the poet's subjugating herself to Ted Hughes when she was the more gifted. (Her new boyfriend, by the way, is an unknown photographer, "though that'll probably change, because men seem to get famous when I go out with them".)

"I reacted the way a lot of women do, by being passive," she continues. "He put a lot of pressure on me to give up Elastica. He said, 'You don't want to be in a band, you want to settle down and have kids.' " In so many words? "In so many words. He kept putting on pressure till I started to believe him." She adds bemusedly: "I've met his new girlfriend, and one of the first things she said was that he wanted her to give up travelling with her work to stay home with the baby [Missy, born last autumn]. I'm surprised he's got away with being thought of as a nice person for so long."

After 18 months, during which they did seven American and three Japanese tours, Elastica came off the road to record company demands for an immediate second album. Annie Holland's response was to quit the group, while Donna Matthews became renowned for hard partying on the nocturnal west London scene. They lethargically recorded some demos, but their heart wasn't in it. By 1997, when a second album should have been ready to go, Frischmann and Matthews were barely speaking, and there was nothing useable down on tape.

Holland's replacement, Sheila Chipperfield (of the circus Chipperfields), was deemed not good enough and left by mutual consent. By 1998, their continued lack of productivity was being likened to the Stone Roses' lengthy and ultimately self-destructive holiday between their first and second LPs.

"I didn't think Elastica were going to continue at that point, and we did kinda split up," she says, absently stroking her publicist's cat. Frischmann is a cat person; she's owned a tabby called Benjamin since she was 10. "Unconditional love," she coos. The pet's place in her life is so assured that prospective boyfriends are subjected to his feline scrutiny before she'll go out with them.

On top of everything else, in early 1998 her relationship with Albarn was in trouble. Frischmann retains enough of the indie ethic to detest the phenomenon of celebrity couples, and was dismayed when they became one. "I really hated the tabloid interest, and I went out of my way not to be photographed with him. Only about three pictures of us together exist, I think. In many ways, I think the media interest broke us up, because it made me feel the relationship was quite ugly, and I had to get away from it. There were other factors, too, obviously, because we were together for eight years, and I finally felt it was better the devil you didn't know, really."

Albarn's ego seems to have been severely undermined by having a girlfriend who was nearly as successful as he was, and something of a sex symbol to boot. Despite adopting a resolutely boyish T-shirt-and-jeans uniform, she's thoroughly feminine, a mix that got her voted fifth most fanciable woman in a lesbian magazine.

"I'm completely heterosexual, so I didn't know how to take that. It scares the shit out of me, the idea of being with a girl. I'm glad I've narrowed it down to half the people in the world."

She seems to view Albarn with indulgent exasperation these days, simultaneously praising his intelligence ("The Gallaghers just couldn't compete") and ticking off his flaws. "Damon adores being in the press, and sees all press as good press. He orchestrated that rivalry thing with Oasis. He really wanted kids, and I didn't feel our relationship was stable enough. He was a naughty boy, and he wasn't the right person to have kids with. I had this cathartic moment..."

At which point they split up. Albarn wrote 13 and then met Suzi Winstanley, an artist. "She was pregnant within three months," Justine observes wickedly.

Of the acclaimed 13, she's tactful, describing several songs as "really lovely". She studies her cigarette for a while before adding, "but I'm cynical about selling a record on the back of our relationship". But you're doing the same now. "It's true, but at the time I had no right of reply."

Elastica finally pulled themselves together last year, just as the music industry was about to write them off (their American label had already "very kindly let us go", as she puts it). Holland rejoined, Matthews went to Wales to sort out her life and the band banged out an EP and played the Reading Festival. Things came together quickly after that. They spent the last £10,000 of the recording budget on re-recording a dozen tracks, finishing the album, after years of procrastinating, in six weeks. They've called it The Menace "because that's what it was like to make".

It's dark and resolutely uncommercial - all wrong for 2000's pop-oriented climate. It's unlikely to match the success of the first one, which is fine with them. Call it (though Justine doesn't) their White Album. Its 70s punk aesthetic brings to mind angry girls such as the Slits and the Au Pairs, although the defining mood isn't anger so much as catharsis. None of the songs is specifically about Albarn, she claims. "The dark feeling is due to the sense of isolation, tasting success and getting frightened by it. I was questioning whether I wanted to be in a band any more, and there was no one I could ask for advice. Getting success and everything you ever dreamed about is hard to handle, and makes you question everything."

She's better prepared for success, if it comes again, this time. Already the privacy-preserving barriers are in place. The next interview of the day is with Time Out magazine, which wants a list of her favourite restaurants. "I'm not telling them where I eat," she says reflexively. "I'm gonna lie."

#questions #damon albarn #justine frischmann #blur #elastica

[coexiising]

art deco - anakin skywalker

SUMMARY ◆ You’ve been Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan for almost five years now, recieving training from one of the most brilliant Jedi Knights you have ever met. In an attempt to further your training, you and your Master take a trip to Naboo, however, it is soon revealed that your feelings will get in the way. 

WARNING(S) ◆ Smut, lowkey slow burn, anakin being hot but what’s new, dirty talk, authority kink, virginity kink, bye

WORDS ◆ 7.8k and i regret nothing

NOTE ◆ I wrote this during heartbreak so this is me totally projecting

»»————-　✼　————-««

THERE WAS SOMETHING INCREASINGLY PLEASANT ABOUT BEING ON NABOO. You were quick to realize that the planet’s beauty that was always spoken about was not just a thing of rumors, and that, in fact, the place was even more beautiful than you could possibly imagine. The way that every tree hung perfectly, with it’s branches begging to be touched by a passerby, and how every single animal that grazed along it’s pastures had a sense of calm that you had never felt in all your years of living in the galaxy.

The villa along the large lake a few miles away from the main city was a thing of dreamlike structures. It’s columns held intricate pieces of wood and stone and the balconies that overlooked both water and flower fields were more welcoming than you could ever imagine. A own little touch of paradise, and you would be staying here for only a week.

The war, which you had been flung into only a few years into your training, was going on longer than anyone anticipated. The separatists were not letting up on their preposition to become a sovereign state, and the deaths of thousands mass produced clones has become a daily thing. It took a great toll on everyone involved, and more specifically the Padawan’s like yourself that were not at all prepared for this type of environment for your training. When you were just a youngling, all you expected was to go on lots of missions with your Master that would be Jedi affairs, not Republic ones. In a way, you felt as if you were being robbed of something that you weren’t quite sure how to pinpoint, an innocence in a way.

This was the Council’s way of trying to make it up to you. You knew that it wasn’t supposed to actually be a vacation, no, you were meant to keep up with your training, just in a different environment that would make you more akin with the Force. And that place was Naboo, tranquility in the form of a planet.

“I can feel your apprehension,” Your Master told you, walking in front of you up the stone stairs that came up to the front door of the place you would be staying in with him. Behind you was a ship, no one inside to accompany the two of you. To do this right, as the Council said, you were not to be distracted by anyone else, no clones, no droids, no nothing.

If only they knew that it didn’t matter if there was no one other than your Master to engage with, because Anakin Skywalker, alone, was able to distract you for hours on end if you really put your mind to it. Anakin and you were very similar in age, early adult years, and yet he had the role of Master and you were still just a Padawan. You knew that it was because of his efforts during the Battle of Geonosis at the very beginning of the war, and that alone was enough to grant him the title of Jedi Knight, but it still was awkward at points when he talked down on you, because really, he had only two years more experience in life than you did.

You did what you were told. You always did. As a youngling you had a temper, a rebellious streak that for a time was almost concerning for the Council and the Master’s that taught you. And yet, here you were, a respectful young Jedi. Over the years you have grown, probably more than any other youngling that the Order has ever seen. It was like overnight somehow you turned from a child to a young woman, and you were adamant about completing your studies so that you could become a Jedi Knight. Those plans, however, got incredibly tainted with the war, and then with the introduction of you and your Master. It was a rather uncalled for pairing. You were hoping for someone like Master Yoda to take you as his Padawan or even for master Plo Koon, yet it was wildly noted that you were picked by Anakin Skywalker yourself. A rather odd thing and he still hasn’t told you completely why.

Anakin was not entirely a man of secrets. You could ask him things about almost anything and he would tell you. The only thing that he kept guarded in the deepest parts of his mind was things of his past, and his reasoning behind making such vast decisions like taking on a Padawan during a large civil war. But you and Anakin still managed to be very close, the Force growing strong between both of you as if it too agreed in your compatibility.

You shook your head, immediately refuting his accusations. “No, it’s not apprehension,” you told him, eyes coming up to meet the back of his head since he wasn’t looking at you. “Just concern, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Your Master questioned. The second that his foot came up to the top of the stairs, his figure turned around and faced you, those bold, blue eyes of his racing to meet your own. “If you have any doubts about anything, tell me, I am your Master after all.”

That’s exactly that problem, you thought to yourself, making sure that your mental shields were up to guard it. That was the last thing that you needed, for him to know the things that you wished to push down into the darkest depths of your mind. That was the Jedi way, after all, keep all those emotions that were considered dangerous and a path to the dark side in a little cage in your mind and throw away the key. The thought of simply just being with him here alone made your brain almost electrify yourself, thinking about all the possibilities of slipping up and revealing all your emotions towards your Master directly to him. It was something to fear, and yet you were not allowed to fear.

You offered him the fakest smile that you could muster, saying, “Yes, Master, I’m alright. Let’s just get inside, it’s almost dark.” The setting sun was directly to your back, illuminating him in front of you like he was something to be marvelled at. And to your defense, Anakin Skywalker was definitely something to be marvelled at. His chiseled cheeks only looked more distinguished in the golden light, along with his dark brown hair that seemed to catch it just right. It made you feel weak in the knees, these thoughts of him, and you knew it was wrong to think of him in such ways - but you just couldn’t stop. Every time you tried to vilify him in your mind, another reason why you should love popped right back up in its place. It was a deadly cycle that you have shamelessly fallen victim to, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it or further this attraction. It was forbidden.

The moment that you stepped into the building, a sigh left your lips, eyes taking in all your surroundings. It was marvellous. There were marbled stone floors that were covered in rugs in some places, plush couches in the middle of the room, and off to the side were the counters of the kitchen, all looking as if no one had ever stepped foot in here. Suddenly you felt out of place here, like you weren’t good enough to live in such a lavish way. After all, your temple rooms were nothing compared to this. They were bland, sandy and brown colors everywhere. Only a dresser with a small mirror and a bed were in it. Yet here, there were different hues of reds, greens, and blues, tables and chairs and fancy lamps, and plants that added almost another dimension to the already breathtaking house.

“It’s - It’s,” You started, not able to find the correct words for what you were trying to say.

Luckily, Anakin finished your sentence, “Breathtaking. It’s breathtaking.”

You turned to look back at him, taking in his features for just a moment more.

Breathtaking, you thought to yourself. Yes, everything here is just breathtaking.

-

The soft silks of your bed sheets rolled between your fingers, tempting you to lay into bed and never get back up. How on Earth were you supposed to keep training when you were living like this? You could imagine yourself, not as a Jedi but as a normal person, eating wild berries as you sat on your bed near the balcony, looking towards the horizon and not having one single worry in that head of yours. It was tantalizing, the perfect picture in your mind of what you wished to be.

“You think too loud.”

You spun around to only be met with your Master, who was leaning against your doorframe effortlessly. A heat rose up to your cheeks, realizing that you hadn’t been taking the proper precautions of keeping those thoughts only to yourself. They were just little flings of ideas, nothing too brash that could get you into any trouble. “Sorry, Master, I shouldn’t have been thinking of slacking off when we have work to do in the coming days.”

A chuckle escaped his lips from deep within his chest. “It’s okay, Y/N, really, if I am being honest, I was thinking the same not too long ago.”

That was shocking news to you. You always thought that Anakin always wanted to be on the run, as if this trip that he had to take with you was annoying to him because he had to take time away from the front lines of the war. But it also made sense, even victorious war generals get tired sooner or later. Perhaps you didn’t know him as much as you thought that you did. This trip wasn’t just for you, it was for the both of you. It was good to go back to basics, remember the first feelings of the force and go from there.

“And here I was thinking that you didn’t want to be here,” You mused.

Your Master laughed at your jest. “No, quite the opposite. It’ll be nice to take a step back from life for a little bit and get some much needed rest.”

“I didn’t know that General Skywalker knew what rest meant,” You continued on your playful banter.

“I don’t,” He chuckled. “Maybe you can teach me?”

Now that sends you through a loop. You knew that he was probably just playing around with you, since you were teasing him a little bit. But that sentence was enough for that place in your mind to unlock all the fantasies you had in your head about him, the ones that you only dared touch when you knew you were alone and it was the dead of night so no was there to read them. You held yourself back from becoming flustered, knowing the moment you showed any signs of it that he would know that something was up. Instead you simply nodded your head, taking your eyes off of him to the balcony that was open to your room, seeing the way that the moonlight illuminated the waves of the water. “Perhaps after training tomorrow, we could go by the water?” You asked him.

“Sure thing,” Anakin said, turning on his heel and making his way out of your room. You took a sigh of relief at his absence, not because you wanted him gone, but because seeing him in such a leisurely setting was starting to get to your head. That dizzy feeling that got to your head every time you looked at him for too long started to subside, and you were left with only your thoughts as you put away some robes you packed for the stay.

The moment that your head hit the soft, plush pillow of your large bed, you were completely enveloped by sleep. In your dreams you only saw you and Anakin, happy and smiling in the gracious flower fields of Naboo, preparing meals together half dressed in the kitchen, and falling asleep in each other's arms. It was so real and lifelike that when you woke up in the morning, you felt as if you had awoken from an alternate universe.

-

Anakin didn’t know what he was doing.

Of course he was excited to be able to take a break from the long, withheld war between the Republic and the Separatists, but at the same time he knew that being alone with you was going to be a struggle for him. Anakin loved to train you, he really did. You were a loyal Padawan to the Order and was eager to learn the ways of the Force by his instruction. He knew the moment that he saw you that he wanted to train you. But he hadn’t prepared for him to become so emotionally attached to you, and it was tearing the young Jedi apart.

It was incredibly taboo of him to gain these feelings for two reasons. One: the Jedi were forbidden from attachment. And although Anakin hadn’t been known for following all the rules of the Jedi, he knew that attachment could possibly lead to dark places if he wasn’t careful. Two: you were his Padawan. It may have been different if you were within the same ranks as him, but you were not. He was supposed to be your teacher, and there was no way that he would take advantage of his position of power over you if you were not willing.

He, too, was having doubts about this vacation. Anakin almost asked his First in Command, Rex, if he would accompany the two Jedi for the week, but there was too much going on for the clone to take time off. So it was just you and him, alone in this house on this beautiful planet. Anakin was uneasy up until the moment he walked in your room last night when for a half a second he could sense your aura from the Force, and it was also uneasy about being with him alone. It was strange, since you were clearly hiding these thoughts from him with your mental shields whenever you were around him. But the moment he left you alone, those shields came down.

“Don’t think about keeping yourself up, the Force will do that on it’s own as long as you keep the connection with it. Focus on the rocks,” Anakin told you, walking around you in circles as you were in a handstand, mentally bringing up some rocks off the ground and stacking them off to your side. This was generally a lesson that a youngling would be given, though it was a good mental exercise. And in Anakin’s opinion: it was way better than meditating. “Feel it flow through you, allow it to take you over and become one with it.” These were the same things that Master Obi-Wan had taught him.

It was a bright, sunny day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as the time reached a little bit past noon. Training outside in the fields of Naboo were easier than doing so at the Jedi Temple, considering there was more nature that was akin to all aspects of the force. And the sun felt good on both of your skin, smelling the natural air that had a fluorescent scent to it rather than the smog and industrial life of Coruscant.

Your muscles were beginning to strain from underneath you as your head tilted to the side, watching all the rocks fall into place to your left. Even though the Force provided much needed relief on your arms, they were beginning to let out. There was one more rock for you to move and it was the smallest one, a tiny little pebble that needed to go on the top. It was such a small mass, yet with all of this mental and physical strain, it felt like a boulder to move across the air slowly with your mind. All you wanted was for Master Skywalker to feel proud of you. You wanted to see that smile on his face as you lifted that last pebble up and was allowed to finish your studies for the day.

The more you concentrated, the more you could feel the Force flow right through you. It could be felt in the tingling of your palms, sending vibrations towards the center of your chest while your blood flowed. Almost more importantly, you could feel Anakin’s eyes on you, waiting patiently for you to make your next move. Slowly, but surely, the little pebble made its way towards the top of the stacked rocks. Your eyes widened with joy, but immediately squinted back up when it shook a tiny bit. The moment that the bottom of it hit the top, you released your much concentrated attachment with the Force, and allowed yourself to fall seamlessly to the ground. The blood rushed back to your head, making your eyes darken to adjust. Once you could see again, you saw Anakin standing over you, that grin you had looked forward to seeing on his face.

“Not bad, Padawan,” He said in an appealing tone, extending a hand to help you up to your feet. You were quick to take it, ignoring the way that your heart soared as your skin touched against his skin. “We should go back to the house.” He almost turned and began walking away, but you scrunch your nose up and kept his hand in a tight grip, prompting him to look right back at you with a confused look. “What’s up?”

“You promised we could go to the water afterwards,” You told him, hoping that you were jogging his memory from last night.

But you didn’t need to jog Anakin’s memory, because he had been thinking about it ever since you asked. Thinking about having to watch you submerge under the water and come back up, drops of clear blue dripping down your exposed shoulders, and keeping himself from doing something that he would most likely regret when you would reject him, scolding him for his thinking. He thought about the way he wanted to put his hands on your hips and pull you as close as you possibly could get to him, taking the opportunity to pepper kisses along your smooth skin. It killed him to think that you probably didn’t think the same way about him, it was going to goddamn tear him apart.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to go back on his promise to you. It was the least he could do after thinking such sinful things about you. Anakin’s gave you a nod and walked beside you on the short trail to the large lake. You could hear the water ripple towards the small shoreline, coming up and then receding back again in a timely fashion. You kicked off your shoes, deciding that your tank top and pants were okay to get wet, especially since you wouldn’t take the risk of undressing in front of Anakin. As much as the thought was tempting, you knew better than to test your luck. Anakin watched with intensity as you got into the water, going deep enough to where only the tops of your shoulders and up were exposed. Maker, he cursed himself, did you have to look so good barely doing anything?

You cocked your head to the side. “Well . . . are you going to get in or just stare at me?” You asked, immediately submerging yourself under the water to ignore what he had to say about your teasing. Your heart thumped profusely as you sat there under the water holding your breath. Anakin had been looking at you.

He mentally cursed himself once again, taking his shoes off and following you into the water. It did feel good, the water having an almost calming effect over him as he walked deeper in the lake. He looked around him, taking in the appearance of all the beautiful trees that lined up, beautiful fruit hanging off of the branches. Little flowers were along the bay, facing right towards him as if they were welcoming him to their home.

The sun spilled harsh rays along his skin, causing Anakin to dip his head down fully into the water. Once he came back up for air, his eyes shifted over to you, both of you holding a type of eye contact that you swore almost knocked your breath out. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, like he was looking right into your soul and you to his, a sense of desire burning a pit in your stomach. Feeling exposed, you shifted your gaze to the fish swimming in the water near you. You could still feel his eyes on you, in them holding truths that he wished to tell you, but being unable to put the words together to explain.

-

“There’s something that you’re not telling me.”

Your eyes opened at your Master’s voice and looked directly at him. You had been meditating on your bed before sleeping, knowing that you hadn’t gotten the necessary amount of meditating that you needed for the day. At the temple they usually kept you on some kind of schedule, though here with Anakin rules were a little - no, more loose than normal.

Anakin once again stood in your doorframe, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in, like he didn’t feel like he had a place stepping into your bedroom. You searched his face to gauge a feeling for what he was talking about, looking for hints of mischief or anger. There was nothing, his face was completely blank, almost too blank like he was hiding something from you.

You knew you had nothing to hide - or at least nothing that he should know about. “I don’t know what you mean, Master,” You replied, uncrossing your legs from their criss cross position and hugging them close to your chest. “Have I done something wrong?”

That answer seemed to not satisfy him, because for a moment something flickered in his eyes. “No, nothing like that,” He told you, furrowing his brows together and taking a tentative step closer into your room. “It’s just, I get this feeling when I’m around you. Your force signature . . . like something is just gnawing at you and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Oh, you were screwed. Alarms blared in your mind, thinking about how you had let your thoughts run too much during this trip. All the worst outcomes of this came to your mind, like how he would laugh at your growing feelings towards him, how much you wanted him almost shamelessly. It made your stomach twist into several knots, wanting to bury yourself into a hole and never ever come out of it again.

Your face and the Force must’ve told it all, because he spoke again, saying, “There. Right there. I can feel it, Y/N. Just talk to me. What is going on?” Your bottom lip quivered, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this. This was it. The day you had been dreading and hoping didn’t come. Everything was about to come crash down onto your life.

“I can’t,” You said in a low voice, shifting your weight to sit at the edge of the bed, putting your head into your hands and staring down at the plush carpet in an attempt to get away from his stare. Almost as if you thought if you looked away long enough, he would suddenly disappear.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’? You’re my Padawan, you can tell me anything.”

Padawan. The title felt foreign in your mind now. It was something that you knew you couldn’t hold onto for much longer once the truth was out. You would be stripped of it and be a Jedi no more. The council would hear of your feelings and immediately expel you. Padawan. Padawan. Padawan. The more the word bounced around in your mind the more you felt tears welling up into your eyes.

And you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it, but your hands were balling up into fists as you said, “That’s what’s wrong!” Your head tilted up, seeing that Anakin had walked closer to you, towering over your frame. His face showed confusion, not understanding what you were alluding to. He didn’t even have to say it, but his expression was saying explain.

How could you even begin?

You were wordless.

“Please . .  . I just want to help you,” Anakin told you, his hand coming to grab onto your forearm. The touch felt like hot coals on your body, scorching your soul. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” Which you knew translated to I don’t like not knowing how to fix it.

“It’s you,” You confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

For a moment, Anakin thought that he had stepped into some parallel universe. Or that this was some sort of prank let on by someone else. There was no way that this was happening, you were confessing. You had been thinking about him, probably as much as he was thinking about you. It felt as if the world had turned on its axis and was spinning the opposite direction.

You, on the other hand, was waiting for the words that never came. You expected him to immediately tell you that he was going to report you to the Council. And yet, he stood there, almost looking as dumbfounded as you did, maybe even more. This prompted you to stand up, his hand falling down and getting dangerously close to your own.

“I know . . .” You started again, seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything. “I know that it’s wrong, that I shouldn’t be thinking of you in the ways that I am. But I can’t stop, Anakin, you consume me.”

The usage of his name snapped him back to reality and out of his own spinning thoughts, and hearing it come from specifically your lips was not helping his frame of mind. It sounded . . . different coming from your mouth. Like you were saying it like a praise rather than just a passing phrase like most people did. He wanted you to say it over and over again, repeating it like a mantra you were to speak or you would die if you didn’t. His eyes flickered into your own and saw how scared you were of how he would react and how he was definitely not helping to settle your nerves.

In truth, he didn’t know how to handle this situation. After all, this was not a lesson that had been given to him and he was definitely not in the best place to tell you anything, since his emotions were starting to cloud his judgement and all he could think was how he wished to tell you he felt the same way.

You waited for his response, getting impatient and wanting to just get this over with. You were waiting for the words he was supposed to say.

But Anakin didn’t always do the things he was supposed to do.

“You and I both know that forming attachments isn’t allowed,” Anakin said. “And yet I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

A visible look of shock washed over your face, mouth opening slightly and eyes widening, heart pounding against your ribcage. His hand reached down and grabbed your own, fingertips softly touching the palm of your hand. This felt like a dream. Were you sure that you weren’t dreaming? No, this was definitely real. Anakin was in front of you for sure, confessing that he was feeling the exact same way.

Anakin tipped his head down to meet your own, his breath fanning along your face, making you shiver. Your breath hitched in your throat, his lips brushing against your own, almost like he was testing you. You could feel the tips of his hair tickling against your forehead, nose against nose. You were so close. The hand on your own was grasping now, pulling your body close to his. And the two of you sat there, lips millimeters close while each of your minds buzzed with the feeling of doing something so daring.

You felt yourself going mad, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t wait. All of your feelings erupted inside of your throat and suddenly you were kissing him, lips smashing against his own with no care in the world. You didn’t care about the Council, the Code . . . anything. All you cared about was Anakin, wanting as much of him that he was willing to give you.

You had never really kissed anyone before. There was a moment back when you were only ten and you were with another youngling, seeing one of the citizens of Coruscant kissing each other on the street. Interested in what they were doing, you and your friend kissed, thinking that it was weird and dismissing it. That had been your first kiss, a rather embarrassing one, but it was nothing compared to the way Anakin kissed you. He kissed you like there was a purpose to every single move of his muscles. He kissed you like you were forbidden fruit and he was starving.

His other hand came up to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and keeping your face close to his. For just a moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you made a small sound, butterflies swarming in your stomach. You tried to mimic what he was doing, going with your instincts and grasping onto his bicep, feeling the taut muscles under your touch.

Everything about yours and his actions were needy and hungry, wanting each other with such need that you had pushed down for so long. All of it seemed to come out of you like crashing waves. The kissing was nice, though after a while you needed more, you were dying for more of him. Please, Anakin, you thought.

What do you want, Padawan? He asked through his thoughts to you, hand coming to caress your face to look down at you. You looked into those big, blue eyes of his that never ceased to awaken something within you.

“You, Anakin, I want you,” You whispered to him, as if someone was going to hear if you talked too loud. “Please.” You thought that you probably sounded like someone desperate, and in a way you were, you had waited for this forever and had convinced yourself that it would never happen. But he thought the exact opposite, he marvelled in the way that you looked at him, wanting to show you how much you truly meant to him. The attraction and lust was there, intermingled with something more that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

He didn’t hesitate to give you what you wanted, slowly inching you towards the bed and helping you rest on your back, the silk sheets against the back of your arms and neck. Anakin was quick to follow, climbing on top of you and connecting his lips onto the skin right below your jaw. His lips were soft like snowflakes falling onto your skin, creating a masterpiece on your skin like you were his canvas. It all felt too good, the Force heightening the sensations to an almost unbearable amount. It sent shockwaves to your core, igniting a feeling you often only felt during the late hours of the night.

Seeing how well your body responded to him, well, almost drove Anakin crazy. You were so willing, so ready for him that his mind became cloudy, the only thing he could make out was his thoughts of you. Nothing about the war, the Council, the fact that he was your Master . . . It all blew away with the wind. His lips trailed down from your jaw to your neck, paying extra attention to the places that made you breath out more than the others. Your hands found their respective place in his hair, feeling the softness of the dirty blonde curls between your fingers.

Your clothes suddenly felt foreign on your body, you wanted them off, you wanted his off so that you could see all of him. He seemed to hear your thoughts, humming against your skin and pulling away, pressing a soft, firm kiss to your lips and helping you get out of them, and in turn you helped him get out of his.

Anakin’s body was like nothing you imagined. He was breathtaking. You knew that he had a nice body because of all the training and countless amounts of physical strain he has been through, but looking at those abs that he had, along with the sun kissed skin he had, you felt your throat close up, feeling inferior to what he looked like. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” He spoke to your thoughts. “Don’t ever think that you’re not.” And you believed him.

His hands came to your hips, fingers toying with the fabric of your underwear that was the only thing blocking him from seeing you fully. His eyes scanned you, taking in the sheer and utter beauty before him. He wanted to kiss, lick, and nip on every single inch of skin on you. He wanted to learn each and every single curve, hear every story behind your scars, and know just what touches would have you squirming from underneath him.

No one has seen you this exposed before. You didn’t know whether or not to feel embarrassed, because he seemed to know what he was doing. It was not that you had taken the Jedi code to heart, but you simply hadn’t known anyone that you found enough to take that last piece of innocence from you - no one except Master Skywalker. And only now did you actually realize what was going to happen.

Your whole body felt hot, needing to feel the release that was beginning to build up from all of his kisses and your imagination running its course. “Anakin,” You breathed out, not knowing how to form into words what you wanted from him. Of course he knew, he could feel your force signature morph into something almost sinful, something he was sure he was emitting himself. After all, neither of you were hiding anything anymore. He knew exactly what he was going to do to you so that he could hear the plethora of moans that he knew you had just for him, wanting to hear his name come off of your lips in pleasure.

His head ducked down and kissed your hipbone, fingers hooking under your underwear and slowly sliding them off. Your eyes stayed on his actions, mouth forming into an ‘O’ when you realized what he was going to do. He was going to use his mouth on you. These were only things that you thought in your deepest, darkest fantasies, like he had reached into those parts of your mind and did exactly what you wanted.

As if Anakin was just tempting you, he pressed another slow kiss to the inside of your thigh and then did the same thing to the other side. Your hips lifted up only slightly, showing him that you couldn’t wait much longer. A chuckle left him, eyes reaching your own and saying, “Eager?” You weren’t even ashamed when you shook your head, keeping eye contact with him as he licked a bold stripe right up your slit. It felt as if an earthquake hit your body, your back arching and hands gripping onto his hair.

He hummed against you, liking the way that you responded to his actions. If he had it his way, he would sit here with you like this for hours on end, bringing you up to that high place again and again until you were a wrecked mess before him. It made him simply go crazy to think that he was the first person to ever do this to you, that he would be the first of anyone to hear those moans and profanities that slipped from your cherry kissed lips. Anakin’s own thoughts made him groan out, a noise that you played on repeat in your mind as your eyes screwed closed.

Your thighs quivered beside his face, attempting to squeeze shut so that you could keep him there forever. But his hands came and held them in place, fingers digging into your muscles that gave in to his touch like it was nothing. You were putty in his hands, the only movement you had was your hands pulling on his hair and the arch of your back while he lapped his tongue against you with no mercy.

“Stay still,” He told you, pulling away for a moment to lick what was left of you on his lips. You nodded, chest heaving and heart sinking at the loss of contact. But Anakin didn’t leave for long, his mouth on your clit accompanied with one of his fingers circling your entrance. You nearly lost it when he dipped his middle finger in experimentally, gauging your reaction. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, which only amplified once his finger pushed into you all the way.

You didn’t even attempt to try and censor the obscenities that came out of your mouth, mixed in rhyme with his name. Anakin. Anakin. Anakin. It was the only word that felt real in your mind.

You waited for that final jump towards a euphoric end, but it never came. Instead Anakin pulled away from you and his fingers left, making you feel uneasily empty. Opening your eyes, you saw that he was pulling down his boxers, taking his cock into his hands and watching as you almost became slack jawed - realizing what was about to happen. A moment of worry nestled its way into your mind, making your heart thump. If anyone was to find out, you would surely not be accepted back into the Order. You would never be able to have Anakin again. Jedi were not to fear, and yet here you were, fearing that you would lose the one person that you cared about - the only one you knew cared about you.

It was your moment to choose. You knew that if you backed out, at least you would be able to work under him still and not have his affections. It would be better than never seeing him again. And yet, you couldn’t see your life without him, all of him. Not just the side that was your Master.

Anakin sensed your worry, taking your chin in his hands so that you looked up at him. “Are you sure?” He asked you, not wanting to move forward before you were ready. And God, were you ready.

And with all the courage that you mustered up, you gave him a small smile and said, “Yes.” You felt like you were flinging yourself off of some sort of cliff, or even more sinfully feeling like you were Persephone, cutting up her own slice of pomegranate and looking right into Hades eyes as she tasted the fruit, securing your fate that you would stay with him. You would stay with Anakin, even if it was only for this night.

He nestled between your legs and you could feel his tip press against your entrance. Air was caught in your lungs, sitting up on your elbows so that you could see as he eased himself into you. A sting of pain and a subtle feeling of pleasure was seated inside of you, watching as his cock be enveloped by you inch by inch. Anakin hissed at the feeling, you were so goddamn tight and he never wanted to stop from being inside of you. Once all of him was inside, he leaned over so his head was in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your searing skin as you adjusted to him bottoming out.

You urged him to continue, thinking that the discomfort would soon go away with time. And you were eager to get all of him that you could, temptation coming forward instead of reason. He pulled out all the way then eased himself back in, continuing the slower pace and watching your reaction before him, your hands reaching to his back and finding their place there. One of his hands kept your legs open, taking you by your thigh and hoisting it up.

It took all that he could muster to not just ram into you, the want starting to cloud his judgment. The Force felt as if it was pushing both you and him towards each other, the connection almost driving each of you crazy. “You feel . . .” He started. “You feel so good.” That alone, along with the raspiness in his voice, made a fire erupt in your stomach. You sighed in response, eyes fluttering closed once again.

And then, much to his surprise, you whispered, “Go faster, Anakin.” You needed him so bad you felt like you were going to explode, lust enveloping the both of you and intertwining with your Force energies.

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he gripped onto the leg he lifted up, beginning a slightly faster rhythm that had you arching your neck and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Anakin was so big, stretching you out in just the right way that had you almost keeling over if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on you. Your one leg wrapped along his waist, heel digging into his back while his pace increased.

This angle he had you in made you yelp and moan shamelessly, not caring if people all the way in the capital could hear you as you yelled his name like a prayer. His pace finally became a fast rhythm and you found comfort in being to finally feel nothing but pleasure with every deep stroke he made.

In this place, it was only you and him. Like you were in your own little place of paradise where you could explore each other in every way. There was nothing that could take this moment from you or him, this moment would forever be engraved in your mind for many years to come, remembering the way that he moaned out your name and the way he looked when you opened your eyes to peek at his face. His brows were furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead and mouth spilled open saying nothing but your name.

He made you feel so good, so euphoric that the fire grew and grew, becoming a wildfire raging inside of you. And you looked so heavenly to him, the way that your eyes only looked at him, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust he gave you. You took him so well, like you were made for only him. His hips brushed against your own, hand coming up to caress your cheek, forcing you to look at him in the eyes.

You weren’t going to last much longer. Not with the way that he was pounding into you with sheer force you didn’t know was possible until now. But you didn’t want this to end, you never wanted this to end in fear that things would go back to the way they were before. You would have to try and forget that this ever happened. It wasn’t something you wanted to do and didn’t even know if you had the strength to do it. After this moment both of you would be connected.

You made a guttural noise, teetering over the edge of what felt like a wave of bliss. This was it, there was no way that you could keep yourself from it now. It only took a singular deep stroke of his cock to send you right over the edge, your back arching and body spasming, his name rolling off of your tongue in the most sinful way you have ever said it before. Your hands gripped for any part of him that you could reach, groping his muscles to keep him close to you. He didn’t stop moving inside of you, making you ride it out even harder as he chased his own high.

You were so sensitive as he fucked into you, giving you no mercy. He groaned as you came, watching the way that your eyes screwed shut and mouth opening in as you sucked in harsh breaths. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you and you knew that he was close, wondering if he was going to cum inside of you or pull out before he did. He did the latter, taking one more deep stroke before pulling out. Anakin was about to start stroking himself with his hand but you rushed with your own to meet him there, using your own and pumping a few times.

A string of profanities came from his lips as he came, white hot liquid spurting onto your stomach, dripping like beads coating your skin. He had no shame as he shuddered, muscles flexing with every passing second. He drank in your body, seeing how wet you were for him, how soft your hand was on his cock, how much he longed to see you like this more times before you and him left back for the war. And soon enough he was finished, the only thing between both of you was both of your panting breaths.

Anakin moved to grab something on the floor, realizing that it was the shirt he had on before and moving to wipe your stomach off, dropping it to the floor and coming to lay down next to you. You winced for a moment as you moved to look at him, his own eyes staring at the ceiling. You were scared of what was to come next, if there was anything that was supposed to come next. You knew that the two of you couldn’t be together, at least openly, though it was even risky to continue doing something like this in private.

“Anakin,” You called out to him, forcing him to look at you. “What will happen next?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know,” He responded. All he knew was that he wanted you, again and again. In the domestic moments and in the explicit ones like before. You were so tantalizing, and he realized now that because he had tasted the forbidden fruit that was you, he would never be able to stop. There was simply no way that he would be able to conceal his want for you from you anymore.

You waited for his answer, knowing that it would probably be one you didn’t want to hear. But for the second time this evening, Anakin surprised you again.

He leaned over and kissed you.

And you knew his answer from that.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars smut

[ragingbookdragon]

I Won't Give Up On Us

Jason Todd x Reader Story!

Word Count: 12.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence, Canonical Character Death, Angst

Author's Note: I wrote this a few years ago I believe, but hadn't posted it back. So I edited (mostly) and fixed it for y'all! Enjoy! -Thorne

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She sat on the water-tower and watched as they moved across the rooftops; they stopped in the middle and began discussing something. The tall one looked down at the smaller one and nodded to the street. “Stay along the rooftops and check the streets while I look for Selina.”

“Selina’s not around here Batman,” she called coyly.

The two of them whirled around, their eyes moving up until they found her. “Kit.”

She stood up from the water-tower and spread her arms. “In the flesh, Batman.”

The young boy beside him took a step forward. “Where’s Catwoman, Kit?”

Her eyes flitted to the bright colored boy, and she grinned. “Careful Robin…foxes eat birds.”

Scoffing, he crossed his arms over his suited chest. “You wouldn’t do a damn thing to me.”

She raised an eyebrow and hopped down, landing in front of them. “You aren’t the only one with skills, Robin. And we both know who’s the better fighter.” She walked by them, stopping at the ledge before turning to Batman. “Selina had business elsewhere.”

“Where is she?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno. She might be my mentor, but she doesn’t tell me everything.” Gesturing to him, she quipped, “You’d have better luck using those detective skills of yours to find her.”

As she started to walk away, she paused and turned as if remembering something and looked at Robin. “Do you always keep your wallet on you? Or is it just right now?”

“What are you talking about, Kit?” he questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.

She flashed a grin and waved a black leather wallet, enjoying the way his eyes widened at the sight, then patted at his pants; her tone was heavy with challenge as she provoked, “Catch me if you can, little bird.” That was all she said before taking off down the wall, running along the streets.

Robin jerked forward, seemingly forgetting that Batman was beside him as he hauled after her. “GET BACK HERE, KIT!”

Batman sighed as he watched the two teens chase each other, one continually shouting the other giggling, then a voice called from behind him. “They’re almost like a miniature version of us, aren’t they, Bat?”

He tipped his head to the woman standing on the other rooftop. “Selina.”

She smirked and turned, walking away. “Let’s play a game of tag, shall we?” He grunted as he began running after her.

***

She could hear Robin’s feet slam against the pavement with each step he took, and she huffed a laugh. “You’re not supposed to let people hear you, Robin! I thought Batman taught you how to be quiet!”

“I’m gonna be quiet when I get my wallet back from you!”

“Is that before or after I take the money inside?”

“DON’T TOUCH MY MONEY, KIT!”

“So touchy, Robin.” Her hands gripped the ledge as she pulled herself up and onto the rooftop; her feet carried her to the edge of the building, and she peered over it, mumbling to herself, “That’s a little too big of a jump for me to make.”

She turned around and was met by his chest as he slammed into her; her eyes widened as everything moved in slow-motion as they fell over the edge. The wind whipped by them as they fell, and she couldn’t stop the blood-curdling scream that tore through her throat.

An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, then the click of the grapple-gun sounded in her ears, followed by his low and confident voice. “I’ve got us Kit, don’t worry.”

Her hands clenched in his suit as the grapple hooked into a building, and they swung down to the roof below. When their feet touched the ground, she pulled away and slung her fist into his stomach. He bent over, holding his stomach and she exploded. “Are you insane, Robin! We could’ve died! How about next time, you watch where the fuck you’re running!”

She turned away and stalked off when a hand curled in hers. “Wait a second, Kit.” She paused, glancing down at him, then he rose and rubbed the spot she’d punched. “Damn, you’ve got one hell of an arm.” She felt the corner of her mouth raise and he matched her grin. “See…you’re not that mad at me.”

Scoffing, she retorted, “Considering the fact that we almost became a giant splatter on the pavement? I’m a little mad.”

“I had us.”

She leaned forward and poked his chest. “And what would’ve happened if you hadn’t?”

He paused for a minute, then laced his fingers with hers. “Then we wouldn’t have been able to go to prom in a few weeks.” He went quiet, then looked at her. “You are still gonna go to prom with me, right, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, Jason…I am.”

Grinning, he nodded to the diner just across the street. “Wanna get some food?”

“Sure.”

They began walking towards the diner, sliding down the fire-escape and to the street; they crossed the street and stepped into the joint. When the food was ready, they took it back to the roof, sitting down on the ledge, eating, while cracking jokes back and forth.

(Y/N) was sipping on her milkshake when Jason went quiet, and she eyed him. “What’s wrong, Jay?”

He glanced at her then shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something. You aren’t usually this quiet.”

Jason stayed silent for a moment. “…I’m going to Ethiopia soon.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned close. “For what?”

His gaze seemed heavy when he looked at her. “I’m finding my mother.”

“I thought Catherine was your mom?”

Jason nodded. “She was…but she wasn’t my biological mother.”

“When are you leaving?”

“In a couple days.”

“You’re going to be back in time for prom, right?”

Jason snorted. “Yes, (Y/N). I won’t stand you up at prom.”

She grinned. “Good.” It was silent for a second, then she spoke softly. “Does Bruce know?” When he didn’t answer, she found her own, sighing, “Jason, it’s not a good idea to leave without letting Bruce know.”

He nodded. “I know…but Bruce isn’t who I need to tell right now.” He took her hand. “It’s you.” His other hand fumbled in his utility belt, and he pulled out a silver band that held a peridot in the middle; he held it out to her, and she took it, then stared at him.

“Jason…what’s this?”

“A ring.”

(Y/N) sighed and rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. Couldn’t figure that out myself.” She paused. “Why though?”

“It’s a promise ring.”

She felt the breath leave her lungs and her eyes went wide. “A promise ring?”

He nodded and squeezed her hand. “I know we’re too young to get married right now, (Y/N). But I love you, and at some point, in my life, I that to become ‘our life’.”

(Y/N) was speechless at his confession, and she pulled off her mask, questioning, “Are you being serious right now? Because if this is a joke, after I beat the shit out of you, I will break up with you, and never speak to you again.”

Jason snorted. “I’m being one-hundred percent serious, (Y/N). I want to marry you someday, and this ring serves as a testament to that.” He squeezed her hand again. “So, what do you say? Wanna make a promise?”

(Y/N) felt tears gather in her eyes, and she shifted, wrapping her arms around his neck; she nodded, and choked out, “Yes!” She pulled back, pressing her lips to his; she murmured against his mouth. “Yes, I do.”

Jason grinned, and pulled her close, and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Jason.”

***A Few Weeks Later***

She walked into the apartment, closing the door behind her; she kicked off the black heels and began fumbling with the dress zipper. Selina tipped her head around the wall. “What are you doing home so early, hon?” She glanced down at her wristwatch. “Prom wasn’t supposed to be over until eleven. It’s nine.”

(Y/N) glanced at her as she pulled the zipper down. “Jason wasn’t there.”

“He stood you up?”

She shrugged. “If he did, he’d better have a damn good reason for it.”

Selina observed her for a few seconds. “Are you okay, hon?”

“I’m beginning to worry about Jason.” She sighed.

“Why’s that?”

“Because ever since Jason left for Ethiopia, he hasn’t sent me a single message.” (Y/N) paused and looked at her. “Jason isn’t one to keep me in the dark. He would’ve called by now.”

Selina moved forward and placed her hands on (Y/N)’s shoulders. “He’s probably spending time with his mom.”

(Y/N) stared at her before sighing, nodding, “You’re probably right.” She pulled away from Selina’s grip and moved to her bedroom, stopping as she closed the door. “I’ll go see Bruce tomorrow and ask.”

“You might not be able to find Bruce.”

She cocked an eyebrow at her comment. “And why not?”

Selina’s gaze turned solemn. “Something’s wrong with Bruce he’s becoming…ruthless and careless.”

(Y/N) took in her words and nodded. “I’ll see if I can find him. That or I’ll just ask Alfred. He’ll know.”

Selina nodded. “Goodnight hon.”

“Night Selina.”

***The Next Day***

She stood in apprehension at the view of the manor; no matter how many times she’d been there, she was still shocked at the sheer size of it. She stepped up to the door and rang the doorbell, then turned and stared out at the long driveway, listening as the doorbell chimed.

The door opened and (Y/N) spun back around, expecting Alfred to be there. “Hey Alfred, is—Dick?” She stopped and stared at him. “Holy crap! Dick! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Dick smiled at her and opened his arms. (Y/N) leaned in and gave him a hug before pulling away. “What are you doing back in Gotham?”

Dick’s face dropped, and he stared at her. “Bruce needed my help.”

“Selina told me he’s been on edge for a while. It’s good that you’re here to keep him grounded.”

Dick nodded and motioned inside. “Want to come in?”

(Y/N) nodded and stepped by him. “This place gets even cooler every time I come over.”

He chuckled. “It does, doesn’t it?” They stepped into the kitchen and Dick went to the refrigerator. “Want something to drink?”

“Did Alfred make any fruit tea?”

“I think he made mango and peach tea.”

“I’ll take some of that.” He pulled out a pitcher and poured each of them a glass; he handed hers to her and she sipped it. “Alfred makes the best tea, I swear.”

Dick smiled and sat beside her, giving her a once over. “You look good, (Y/N).”

She was surprised at his comment and pointed to herself. “Me?”

“Yes (Y/N). You.” He snorted.

“Thank you, Dick.” She smiled. “Don’t ask me for a loan though, cause I ain’t givin’ you money.”

Dick laughed at her and shook his head. “I’m not going to ask you for a loan, (Y/N).”

“Good…‘cause I don’t have a lot of money.”

The two of them let out laughs, and Dick’s eyes caught the ring on her finger; he nodded at it. “Are you wearing a ring?”

(Y/N) glanced down at it, then back to him and nodded. “Jason gave it to me a few weeks ago.” She twirled it between her fingers, and she felt a smile form. “It’s a promise ring.” (Y/N) paused, then looked up at Dick. “Which brings me to the reason why I’m here…is Jason still in Ethiopia with his mom? He hasn’t messaged me yet, and I’m beginning to worry about him.”

Dick’s expression gave way from surprise to pure shock, and he leaned forward, his tone laced with disbelief. “…Have—have you not been told, (Y/N)?”

She blinked at him. “Told what?” Dick went silent, and (Y/N) cocked her head at him. “What haven’t I been told, Dick?”

He stared at her with a face that made her heart thump ominously and his voice held a tone of solemnity. “…Jason was killed in Ethiopia a few weeks ago.”

(Y/N) thought her heart stopped as she breathed out the only word she could manage. “…What?”

***Part Two***

Noise. Everything that came out of his mouth was pure noise. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as she rose from the bar seat. Dick looked at her concerned and rose to follow her. “(Y/N)? Where are you going?” She didn’t respond, her feet carrying her towards the study; she entered the room and slid to the wall, moving the clock from its position. (Y/N) skipped the steps, moving as fast as she could into the cave.

She came upon him, standing in front of the Batcomputer talking to Alfred; he turned to her, and she let out a withering whisper. “Is it true?” His eyebrows furrowed and he opened his, but she cut him off, this time, her voice a screech. “IS IT TRUE?!”

He shut his mouth for a few seconds, then murmured, “…Yes he’s…gone.”

(Y/N) saw red and she flew forward, her fists pounding into his chest. “HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME! HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM ME!” Bruce didn’t respond, didn’t even react to her punches; he just took each blow. After a few seconds of continual punches, he reached out and grabbed her arms; (Y/N) struggled, thrashing against him. “Let go of me!”

He didn’t, instead he brought her forward and circled his arms around her; she struggled for a few moments, but then the realization set in, and she felt her knees weaken. They caved and she let him lower her down as she cried.

Her hands clenched in his suit, and she stared up at him, wailing, “What happened?”

Bruce’s eyes shut and he whispered, “Joker killed him in Ethiopia.” (Y/N)’s eyes momentarily widened, before shutting and she buried her face in his shoulder as she sobbed.

***

She cried for hours, and he sat with her on the floor of the cave the entire time; Alfred and Dick had gone upstairs earlier to give them privacy. (Y/N) didn’t feel like moving, didn’t feel like talking, but she forced herself to; she shifted her eyes to Bruce’s and whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me he di—why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t know how to. I’ve been so occupied with Gotham that I didn’t have time.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He looked down at her and she felt tears gather in her eyes again. “I deserved to know. I should’ve been the first person you told.”

Bruce looked away but nodded. “I know…I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

“How’d…how’d he die?”

There was a pause, then Bruce’s voice came out no higher than a broken whisper. “It was my fault…I wasn’t fast enough.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Bruce.”

“Yes, it was. I told him to wait but I should’ve known he would’ve gone to save her.”

(Y/N) glanced up at him at the mention of ‘her’. “Her? Who’s her?”

“Sheila Haywood. Jason’s mother.”

“So, he found her? Did he save her?”

Bruce let out a cold laugh that unsettled her. “He tried to…only to be betrayed by her and given to the Joker.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and he continued. “He beat Jason to a bloody pulp…then blew up the warehouse they were in.”

“He…killed them both?”

“Yes.”

She sucked in a breath, closing her eyes as the tears ran down her cheeks. “I thought he was still there…still spending time with her…I never imagined this would’ve happened.”

A comforting hand caressed the side of her head and Bruce apologized again. “I’m sorry, (Y/N)…I’m so sorry.” She said nothing and leaned her head onto his shoulder again and let the tears come.

***

The weeks after that were unimaginable, and (Y/N) couldn’t bear to bring herself to his grave. Too afraid that seeing it, would make it real. Make it true. But after wrestling with herself and telling herself that she owed it to him to go, she finally made her way over. Each step was heavy, and she found it increasingly hard to breathe as she walked; she stopped, a hand holding the cold iron. I can’t do this…I can’t…I’m not ready.

(Y/N) moved to turn when a hand rested on her shoulder; she looked up to see Dick smiling sadly down at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew at some point you’d go see him…I’ve been waiting to go with you.”

She reared back and glared. “How do you know I need someone to go with me?”

“Because you can’t even open the gate, (Y/N).”

She looked back to her hand, seeing it begin to turn a shade lighter from clenching so tightly; (Y/N) let out a shaky breath. “I need help, Dick. I’m…scared to go alone.”

“I’ll go with you.” He said, his hand shifting from her shoulder to her hand, and his fingers curled around it.

She glanced at him through the tears in her eyes. “You will?” He nodded and she stepped back, letting him open the gate.

Their steps were quiet as the moved through the cemetery, and eventually, her eyes landed on his headstone. (Y/N) pulled away from Dick and stumbled to the stone, dropping to her knees in front of it; her fingers rose shakily, and she placed a hand to it.

It was freezing, and it made her throat close as she traced the letters of his name. “I didn’t…I didn’t even get to say goodbye. The plane was boarding, and he could only wave as he ran to catch it.”

Dick knelt beside her and rested a hand on her back. “None of us did (Y/N).”

“I thought he was still in Ethiopia with his mom…” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him; (Y/N) wrapped an arm under his and around his back, resting her head against his chest. “I don’t know what to do, Dick.” (Y/N) gazed at her hand to the silver band resting on her finger and choked out a sob. “What do I do now?” She stared up at him, hoping he had the answers, but all he did was close his eyes and shake his head.

“I…I don’t know, (Y/N).” he whispered.

Her eyes moved back to the stone, and she felt the tears run down her face. “This can’t be real…he can’t be gone.” (Y/N) sobbed, and the words poured from her mouth. “We were supposed to go to prom. We were supposed to graduate and go to college. Move in together and get…and get…” She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘married’, and she felt Dick’s arms tighten around her and his head dropped to her shoulder.

Soon, she felt the material of her jacket go damp and he whispered, “I wasn’t the brother I should’ve been for him. God, I was so angry at Bruce that I stayed away from Gotham, and I never got to know him well enough as I should’ve.”

(Y/N) pulled back to look at Dick, and she took one of his hands; he met her eyes and she murmured, “You were enough, Dick. He knew you cared for him.” He nodded, and (Y/N) rested her head back against his chest. After a few moments, she whispered, “I don’t know what to do anymore, Dick. I can’t even bring myself to leave my room most days let alone putting on my suit on anymore.”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) let her eyes trace his name and she confessed brokenly, “Because I can’t be Kit without my Robin.” She shut her eyes and brought a hand to her face and cried into it. Dick said nothing, he just held her as she broke down, and he let himself break down too.

***Five Years Later***

She gripped the handle of her whip and followed after Selina as she stepped into the jewelry store. Her eyes moved around the room, then went back to Selina who was busy cutting a hole in the glass case. “Selina…what are we doing?”

Selina snorted. “I believe we’re stealing this six-million-dollar diamond and ruby necklace, (Y/N).”

“No. I mean what are we doing, Selina.”

She stopped cutting and rose, arching an elegant brow at (Y/N). “Alright. You’ve been acting like this for a few weeks now. In fact, it’s been like this since you’ve put the suit back on.” She motioned to (Y/N). “What’s up with you?”

Taking a few breaths of courage, she removed her mask and stared at her mentor. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

“And what does that mean?”

(Y/N) loosened the whip at her side. “It means that you’re breaking the law, Selina. And it’s wrong.”

Selina huffed a laugh and turned back to the case, beginning to cut again. “You’re a little old to be playing Cops and Robbers, Kit.” The crack of her whip sounded, and she watched it curl around Selina’s wrist; her eyes turned back to (Y/N), gaping at her. “(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “I’m not letting you take this Selina. It’s wrong.” Selina huffed a cold laugh and gripped the whip in her hand, tugging it roughly; (Y/N) flew forward and she landed at her feet. She looked up and saw Selina picking up the necklace, then glance down at her.

“All these years I’ve taken care of you. All these years that I’ve trained you and this is how you give it back to me? By turning sides?” Selina scoffed. “You can get the hell out of my place and find your own.” (Y/N) scrambled to her feet beginning to give chase; she ran past the alarm and threw an arm out, slamming her hand down on the switch. Selina glanced over her shoulder. “You little bitch!”

“I’m going to be a bigger bitch when I take that necklace back from you Selina!” The two of them slammed through the doors on the roof, hands and feet flying.

They both fought and (Y/N) felt Selina’s claws dig into her shoulder. She let out a cry and slammed her palm up into Selina’s chin. The older woman fell backwards, and (Y/N) watched the necklace fly from her pouch. Their eyes met and each of them scrambled, trying to reach it first. (Y/N) gripped the bolas at her side and slung them as hard as she could. They caught Selina’s ankles, and she dropped; she slid to her feet and scooped up the necklace, and she didn’t look back as she ran, hopping ledges and rooftops, listening to Selina cuss at her the entire way.

(Y/N) ran for what seemed like hours, and once she made sure she was safe, she sat down on a rooftop and caught her breath. Her hand shifted to her pocket, and she looked at the necklace. I could sell this if I wanted to. (Y/N) shook her head and shoved the necklace back in her pocket. No. I made my choice. No more stealing. She sighed and turned back to go to Selina’s apartment when she remembered that she couldn’t go back there. So where to now? (Y/N) looked around when a building caught her eye. I can go to him…he’ll help me. She began running again, moving in the direction of the manor.

***

Bruce stood in front of the Batcomputer, moving through the cases when Tim walked up. “Bruce? Can I help you with anything?”

“No. Go see if Dick or Alfred need anything though.”

Tim nodded and began moving when a figure came into view. “Holy crap! Kit?!”

Immediately, everyone was facing the entrance of the cave and they watched as (Y/N) stepped closer; Bruce rose from his seat and moved in front of her, noticing she was out of her suit. “What are you doing here, (Y/N)?”

Her eyes moved from his to the Batcomputer and she nodded at it. “Selina got arrested then.”

“You knew?”

(Y/N) looked at him and stepped forward, moving her hand towards him to reveal the necklace. “I came to give this to you…to return it.”

Bruce took it, looking at her curiously and the others stepped towards her. “Why’d you turn on Selina?”

She took a deep breath and held out her suit, declaring, “I don’t want to be a criminal anymore. I’m tired of breaking the law and seeing other people get away with it.”

To say that they were surprised at her confession was an understatement; Dick tipped his head. “But…stealing is kind of your thing? Why don’t you want to do it anymore, (Y/N)?”

“Because it’s not what Jason would want me to keep doing.” (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m ready to change but I don’t want to be a criminal. I want to be like you guys…” She swallowed thickly. “I want to be someone that would make Jason proud.”

They were silent for a moment, then Bruce took her suit from her and passed it to Alfred. “If you’re going to join us, you’ll need a new training regimen. We start at dawn.”

That was all he said before turning around, and (Y/N) called out to him. “By the way��Selina kicked me out. So…can I maybe stay here?” He waved a hand and (Y/N) let a smile grace her face.

“Welcome to the Batfamily (Y/N).”

(Y/N) glanced at Dick’s hand held outwards and she smiled, taking it firmly; he shifted and pulled her into a hug, listening as she giggled. “Thanks Dick.”

They pulled away and Bruce walked back over. “You need a new suit Kit. Yours is ripped.”

“Vixen.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Everyone has to grow up sometime. I’m not Kit anymore…I’m Vixen.”

Bruce eyed her before walking past her. “You prove to me that you can be like us, and you can be Vixen…until then you’re Kit.”

“Looks like you have a long road ahead of you (Y/N).” Dick remarked.

She nodded at him. “Right on.” She glanced over at Tim who was still wearing his suit. “Hey…Robin.” He turned to her, and his eyes flashed with fear as she stepped in front of him; (Y/N) pointed to the symbol. “Make sure you honor that uniform. Are we clear?” Tim nodded fervently and she reached up, ruffling his hair. “Good.” (Y/N) walked away and stopped at the stairs, glancing over her shoulder at him. “He’d be proud someone like you filled his shoes.”

“Are you okay with this, (Y/N)?”

Her eyes moved to Dick’s, and she nodded, her voice solemn. “Jason’s gone, Dick. I can’t change that.” (Y/N)’s hand rose to close around the ring on the chain at her neck. “But I can honor him by knowing that Tim’s doing a damn good job as Robin.” She began moving up the stairs and murmured, “And I know he’d be proud that I’m fighting crime instead of making it.”

***Part Three***

She hit the floor, listening as the sound echoed through the cave, and grunted, grabbing her side, the throbbing telling her she was going to see a black bruise soon. He shifted over and knelt beside her. “Are you alright?”

She nodded and clamored to her feet, assuming another defensive position. “Let’s go again.”

“This is the fifth time we’ve done this, (Y/N). Aren’t you tired yet?”

“Again.” She reiterated.

Bruce complied and entered an offensive stance. “Remember (Y/N), it’s not just about blocking each hit, it’s knowing what’s coming next.”

“Got it. Go.”

They circled each other for a few seconds, each of them wondering who was going to move first; Bruce shifted fast, and she readied herself for the coming blows. They came swiftly, and she reminded herself to focus on what he was going to do next. Who am I kidding? The man is unpredictable. (Y/N) kept up, and she saw him grin ever-so-slightly.

“Good. You’re keeping up well.” She blocked the palm he threw at her, returning it with a kick to his side, then backing up; he followed her. “Let’s see if you can go faster.”

“Wait don’t go faster! I’m barely keeping myself on track right now!” Bruce chuckled, but went faster anyway and (Y/N) found herself panicking as each fist came.

“Don’t panic, (Y/N). Focus.” She took a deep breath as she blocked his foot and he said, “When it comes down to a life-or-death fight, you need to be able to keep calm. If you let your enemy get the better of your fear and panic, it’s all over.”

“Is that how you felt when you fought Bane?”

He nodded. “I will admit, that was one of the most fearful moments of my entire life.”

“I imagine having your back broken is.” Bruce shifted again, and (Y/N) saw his foot fly. “Fuck.”

She saw it too late, and it hit her square in the chest; she dropped to the ground, the wind knocked from her lungs. (Y/N) put her hands to her chest and tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come in; her eyes widened in panic, and she looked up at Bruce who immediately moved to her side.

“(Y/N).” She motioned to her chest, and he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Just relax. The more you panic, the harder it will be for you to breathe.” She closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down, then she inhaled deeply, feeling the breath expand in her deprived lungs. She let out a shaky breath and he asked, “Are you alright now?”

(Y/N) opened her eyes, and she jerked, elbow meeting his chest; Bruce’s eyes widened, and she shifted again, taking advantage of the opening he’d given her. The arm she’d hit him with came back and gripped one of his arms and she swung herself around it, placing her legs over his chest, as she pulled it back. Bruce’s back bent on the mat as he tried to move, but she tightened her grip on his arm and her legs, keeping him locked in place.

“Tap out.” He grunted and tried to move but couldn’t and she said again, this time firmer, “Tap. Out.” After a few seconds, she heard his free hand tapping the mat and she let go, rolling off. (Y/N) rose to her feet and crossed her arms, smiling triumphantly. “I win.”

Bruce climbed to his feet and stood in front of her, a hard look in his eyes. At first, (Y/N) began to panic at the look, then the corner of his mouth turned up and he passed her murmuring, “Good job.”

She turned around and watched his back in disbelief as he walked to the shower room and then turned to Dick who was walking over, a towel in his hand. “Did…did that just happen? Did he just give me approval?”

Dick snorted as he passed her the towel. “Don’t get used to it, ‘cause it probably won’t happen again for a long time.”

Tim walked up beside her as she laughed. “Here (Y/N). I got your water.”

She smiled as she took it from him. “Thanks kiddo.” (Y/N) drank from the bottle then glanced at Dick. “I thought you were supposed to be in Blüdhaven. Why are you here?”

“Bruce said there’s some new player in Gotham and I figured he could use a hand.”

“Yeah, that Red Hood guy.” She replied.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You know him?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “Bruce hasn’t let Tim or me patrol since he’s come into town.”

“Is he that dangerous?” (Y/N) passed him and walked over to the Batcomputer, typing on it; a few seconds later, the image of eight decapitated heads appeared on the screen. “Holy shit.”

She nodded at his shock. “He’s effectively taken over the drug trade in Gotham City, and is waging a one-man-war on Black Mask.”

“Is he winning?”

“So far? It appears so.” She paused and clicked the mouse. “I can’t exactly condone his actions because he’s killing people, but he’s keeping the drugs away from children and schools, so I’m not overly angry with him.”

Dick hummed, glancing at Tim. “You doing good, Timmy?”

The young boy nodded with a smile. “(Y/N)’s been helping me a lot.”

“Shove off, Dick.” She muttered when she saw the look on his face.

He spluttered. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You were thinking it.” She moved towards the steps, climbing them towards the door.

Dick followed her. “Going to see Jason?”

(Y/N) nodded as they stepped into the study. “Didn’t get to see him last week because of exams.”

“How’d those go?”

She flashed a grin over her shoulder. “Passed with flying colors.”

Dick reached over and patted her head. “Good job, (Y/N).”

She swatted his hand but smiled nevertheless at his congratulations. “Thanks Dick.” He smiled as he watched her climb the stairs and move towards her room.

(Y/N) walked inside her room and closed the door, immediately stripping from the sweaty work-out clothes; she dropped them into her hamper and moved into the bathroom, stepping into the shower. Once she was finished, she pulled on her underclothes, then put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Her eyes drifted to the zip-up hoodie in her closet; she pulled it off the hanger and slipped it on. Even after so long, it still fit her; she could faintly smell the scent of his cologne in it and she sighed, closing the closet, and moving to the door. (Y/N) walked down the steps and to the garage, grabbing her keys as she walked by.

***

The drive to the cemetery didn’t take long, and she stepped across the grass, still covered with dew. She pulled out the bottle of water from her bag, along with the old rag she’d grabbed; she poured the water on the rag then ran it over the surface of the stone, cleaning away the dirt.

“Sorry I wasn’t here last week, Jay. I had exams that week and I was too busy cramming. Honestly, it feels like a shit excuse on my part, but I know you’d understand.” (Y/N) grinned. “I remember how well you did in school. Right next to me, you were the best there was.” She pulled the rag away and wrung it out, putting it away, then she placed the vase of flowers at it, shifting it into place.

“I should mention that I passed my exams with A’s. (Y/N) (L/N) is one step closer to graduating. To be honest, school sucks. My nights are much more fun.” She snorted and pulled a photo album from her bag. “Tim helped me put this together a few days ago. He likes photography a lot.” (Y/N) opened it and reclined against the headstone. “You’d like Tim, Jason. He’s a good kid…smart, God he’s smart. Probably smarter than all of us…even Bruce.” She flipped the pages. “This is an old picture…the first gala you ever dragged me to.”

(Y/N) snorted. “I kept stepping on your shoes when we danced, but you just smiled at me…here’s you and I at the fairgrounds. I remember you threw up on the teacups because you ate too much. Ugh, that was so gross. Hilarious, but gross. Here’s that photo of you, Dick, Roy, and I at the pool. The chicken fight was fun and watching you and Dick pout because Roy and I beat you both was even more so.” Her fingers moved the pages, and she came across one of them; they froze on it. “…This was the last photo you and I took together. The Christmas party Bruce threw the year before you died.” A sad smile crossed her face, and she flipped the page again. “For now, that’s all we have.”

She closed the book and turned to the stone. “But I’ll make sure to take more photos so I can show you. Something tells me that the family is going to get a lot bigger in the future.” (Y/N) rose from the ground and collected her things, then stood in front of the stone. All at once, she felt someone’s eyes on her and immediately, she turned and eyes darting around, but saw nothing. Confused and unnerved, she faced the stone again. “I’ll see you later, Jason. I love you.”

(Y/N) quickly walked to her car and climbed in, pulling away from the sidewalk; she picked up her phone and pushed a button, listening to it ring.

Hello?

“Hey Bruce.”

What’s wrong?

“I think someone was around Jason’s grave.”

There was silence on the line, then his voice came over low and quiet. Why do you say that?

“Because it felt like someone was watching me.”

You sure it wasn’t someone else visiting?

(Y/N) huffed a mirthless laugh. “Bruce, I was the only person in the cemetery.”

I’ll see about putting up a camera in the quadrant that Jason’s grave is in.

“Alright. Hey…about patrol tonight. Can—”

We’ll talk about it tonight.

“Okay.” (Y/N) hung up and continued her drive towards Gotham University.

***

She stood in front of the Batcomputer, watching Bruce type away. “Have you found anything else about him?”

“Not yet. Dick’s going with me tonight, so we’ll see what it brings.”

“About tonight…Bruce, I think you should let me patrol again.”

“No.”

She sighed and leaned against the panel. “C’mon, Bruce. You can’t beat this guy on your own, not even with Dick’s help.” (Y/N) reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you, Bruce. It’s what you’ve been training me to do.”

“She’s got a point Bruce.” They turned to see Dick walking towards them, already suited up. “(Y/N)’s been working her ass off to get back into the field. And after what we saw this morning, she’s damn sure earned it.”

(Y/N) turned back to Bruce who took in Dick’s words, then he rose from the chair and began walking off; she sighed and scratched the back of her head. “I swear it’s one step forwards and two steps back.”

“Don’t take it too personal (Y/N). He’s just worried about the new guy.”

Her response was cut off by Bruce who stepped up to her. He held out a black suit with silver streaks on it; she eyed it. “What’s this?”

“That’s your new suit…Vixen.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she gaped at him. “Are you…are you serious right now?”

Bruce nodded. “Dick’s right. You’ve earned the name and right to start patrolling again.” He took in the joy on her face and thumped her forehead. “Go suit up. We leave in ten.”

She scrambled to the changing room and stripped her clothes, pulling on the new suit. It fit like a glove, and she admired the suit in the mirror. She pulled on the domino mask and walked back out to them.

Bruce handed her a grapple gun and motioned to a sleek-black bike. “New bike’s yours too.”

“Holy crap this is awesome!” she yelled, pulling him in for a hug.

“Are you done yet?” Bruce sighed, patting her head.

“Don’t be an ass, Bruce. Enjoy the moment.”

He let out a chuckle as she pulled away, then his tone dropped into a serious one. “Listen to me very carefully, I don’t want you engaging the Red Hood, understood?”

She tipped her head. “I get it, but why not?”

“He’s too dangerous and unpredictable. Leave him to Dick and me. You stick to South Gotham.”

(Y/N) nodded and made her way to her bike. “I’ll stay in contact. Good hunting boys.” She pulled off and drove down the ramps.

***

She stood along the ledge of the building, watching the city below her; the night hadn’t been busy, but it certainly stretched along. Her eyes followed the cars and pedestrians when a flash of red caught them. Holy shit! It’s him! He paused on a roof top, then kept moving; (Y/N) grabbed her gun and aimed it for the building he’d just left when she paused. Maybe I should call Bruce…I’ll just tail him for now and get Bruce information.

She nodded her head and fired, slinging to the other building. Her feet hit the top and she was thankful that her shoes muffled noise as she began running after him. Tailing him wasn’t so hard as he didn’t turn around; he obviously wasn’t expecting someone to follow him. (Y/N) followed him, then, she lost sight of him.

Dropping down into the alley she’d seen him drop into, she let out a ‘huh’ and looked around, whispering, “I don’t understand…he was just here?”

“You’re good, but you aren’t the best.” She spun around to see him standing in front of her; (Y/N) reacted, throwing a fist. He caught it, and she brought her knee up to his stomach; he must’ve been expecting it too because he blocked it with his palm. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Too bad pal. I’m on the job right now.” (Y/N) jerked her fist from his grasp and threw her other one.

He dodged each punch and kick she sent, and he sighed. “I’m not going to fight you.”

That made her pause and she stopped with her hands raised defensively. “And why not?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you, Kit.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Look you’re obviously new in town, so I’ll give you this one for free. My name isn’t Kit anymore. It’s Vixen.”

He leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest; he tipped his head back and flirted, “Vixen, huh? That referring to you growing out of Kit…or becoming a rather alluring seductress?”

(Y/N) uncurled the whip from her side. “Depends on who’s asking.” Whatever response he had was cut off as she cracked it towards him.

Quick as flash, and obviously well trained, Red Hood grabbed the whip and curled his arm around it, jerking it roughly. (Y/N) flew forward and he shifted, grabbing her wrists; he turned them around and her back hit the wall as he shoved her arms above her head. She thrashed until he murmured, “Stop moving.”

She yanked at his grip, then looked at his helmet; she spit at it. “Let me go you fucker.”

He chuckled at her. “Man, you’ve certainly grown a mouth.” He observed her. “Those were nice flowers you left.”

(Y/N) stilled at that and she stared wide-eyed at him. “…What?”

“A nice mix you had going. Forget-Me-Nots, that’s self-explanatory. Primroses for eternal love, Red Tulips for undying love, Rainflowers for atonement, and Sword Lilies for an August birthday.” (Y/N) felt the breath leave her lungs, and all she could do was stare, too stunned to speak. “You’re still holding onto him, aren’t you?”

Her eyes narrowed and she felt tears swim in her vision as she tugged at her arms. “You sonovabitch. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve visited his grave every week for the past five years, always bringing the same blend of flowers, and the same rag to clean with.”

“So, you’ve been watching me?”

“For a while…I wanted to know if you cared.”

“…Why?” His hands shifted, taking both her wrists in one, and the other went behind his head and pushed the button. She watched the helmet unlock and he pulled it off, dropping it do their feet, then he pulled the domino mask from his eyes and gazed at her. (Y/N)’s jaw went slack, and she could barely breathe.

“Because I still care.”

She could barely get his name out. “…J-Jason?”

His free hand came up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Hey (Y/N)…been a long time.”

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and everything began to spin; the last thing she remembered was Jason calling out to her as she fell into darkness.

***Part Four***

Her eyelids peeled open, and she looked up at the ceiling blearily. Upon seeing that it wasn’t the ceiling in her room at Wayne Manor, shock registered in her brain, and she shifted to sit up.

A hand rested on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down as a low voice followed. “Don’t sit up too fast. You’ll make yourself sick.” She looked over to see him sitting there on the edge of the bed; his hand moved from her shoulder to the nightstand beside her. He passed her a warm cup, which she took lightly. “Here. You’re recovering from shock, something warm will help.”

She brought the cup to her lips, and the scent of freshly crushed peppermint leaves wafted up her nose. “Peppermint?”

“Peppermint reduces anxiety and makes you calm.” He nodded to it. “Drink.”

“Don’t be bossy…I’m doing it.” She took a few sips then handed it back to him; he took it from her and set it on the nightstand, then looked at his hands. There was silence around them, then she sat up, scooting closer to him. “It’s really you, isn’t it?” The silence he gave her made her heart wrench, and she reached out, curling her hand in his. “Jason?”

He finally looked at her, and she took in the sight of how clouded his teal eyes were. She rested a hand on his cheek, her thumb caressing under his eye. She stared at him, then whispered, “I don’t understand…how are you alive?”

Jason closed his eyes and shook his head murmuring, “I don’t know (Y/N). I remember everything coming back in the Lazarus Pit…but that’s about it.” She tightened her grip on his hand, feeling his thumb run across the back of hers. “I’ve been waiting for the chance to talk to you…but I didn’t know when to.”

“You could’ve talked to me at the cemetery.”

Jason snorted and glanced at her. “And send you into cardiac arrest where I was buried? No thanks.” (Y/N) felt the corners of her mouth rise and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his; they stared at each other for a few moments, then Jason reached forward and pulled her into his lap, burying his face in her shoulder. Her arms came up and wound around him, threading a hand in his hair.

“I’ve missed you, (Y/N).” he whispered, tightening his grip on her waist.

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, Jason. Everyday you’ve been gone.”

They stayed that way for a while, simply holding each other, remembering what they had. (Y/N) pulled away after some time and took his face in her hands, observing him. She could tell how much he’d changed since they last saw each other those five years ago; he’d grown, and not just in his body and facial features. (Y/N) had seen the videos of him fighting; he’d become more skillful at fighting, deadlier too. Whoever trained him after Bruce had honed his senses to a razor-sharp edge. But what stunned her the most were his eyes. When they were younger, his eyes were always bright and full of mirth, always willing to spark some type of trouble…but now? His eyes were dark and cloudy, haunted by his past, a stark contrast from what she remembered.

(Y/N) reached up and twirled a finger in the tuft of white hair at his head. “That’s new.”

He smiled and nodded. “Was like that when I woke up.”

“Jason…what are you doing?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

(Y/N) shifted, pulling herself from his grip and rising to stand in front of him. “You know exactly what I mean.” She gestured to his suit. “This Red Hood business? Fighting Bruce? The war on drugs against Black Mask?” she shook her head like she couldn’t understand any of it—and for the most part, she didn’t. “What are you doing?”

Jason stood from the bed and wandered over to a table, his back to her. “I’m doing what Bruce won’t.”

“And that is?”

His hands shifted to the guns on the table, and he picked up a rag, beginning to clean one. “Controlling crime.”

“You’re not controlling crime, Jason. You’re acting like a mob boss.”

He snorted and glanced over his shoulder. “Maybe, but it’s getting the job done.”

(Y/N) thought her head was going to explode, and she crossed the room to him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around to face her; she glowered at him. “You’re not ‘doing the job’, Jason! You’re killing people!”

He jerked his arm from her grip and leaned in, his voice harsh. “Bad people! I’m putting down dogs that deserve it!”

“It doesn’t matter what they deserve, Jason! It’s murder! We aren’t executioners!”

Jason stood back up to his full height, and she watched his eyes turn to slits as he murmured, “I thought you of all people would understand why I’m doing this.”

(Y/N) thought he’d slapped her with how disappointed he sounded, and her voice turned incredulous. “Are you shitting me right now?” She reached out, her pointer finger jamming into his chest. “Don’t you dare turn this on me.” (Y/N) shook her head. “I left Selina and joined Bruce because I didn’t want to be a criminal anymore. I wanted to be a better person in your memory.” She stared into his eyes and spit, “You know damn well I’d never condone this…not even for you.”

“So, you’re choosing him over me?”

“Oh, don’t even go there, Jason. It’s not like that and you know it. Bruce helped me turn over a new leaf. He’s helped me become who I am.” (Y/N) reached out and took his arm. “Come home, Jason. Bruce and I can help you.”

This time, he gripped the hand that held his arm and he yanked her off. “I don’t need his help. Not when he did this to me.”

“Are you…are you blaming Bruce for this?”

“Of course I am! He left me to die!” The sound of a palm against skin echoed in the room and Jason reached up, holding his throbbing cheek.

(Y/N) glared as she whispered frostily, “He didn’t leave you to die, Jason! He told you to wait until he got back! I will admit that he wasn’t fast enough to save you, but he didn’t do this!” She tugged her hand away from his grip. “You’ve done this all on your own.”

His Adam’s apple bobbe4d as he swallowed, and he huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’ve changed, (Y/N).” He passed by her, muttering as he did. “You act so high and mighty, but you forget that you used to be a criminal too.”

She looked at him through the mirror beside her and she murmured, “I think it’s you who’s changed.” He turned and met her eyes and she added, “My Jason knew the difference between right and wrong.”

Jason flashed her a smile that made her stomach curl and he declared, “I don’t know if you know this, (Y/N)? But your Jason died.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and turned around, meeting his gaze. They stared at each other, and she affirmed, “Yes…he has.” Her hand reached up tugged at the silver chain around her neck; she walked past him to the door but stopped beside him. (Y/N) took his hand and placed the necklace in his palm; he looked down at it, then back at her, his eyes widening, and she hissed, “You can take this back. I’d rather die than marry what you’ve become.”

Jason’s hand curled around the ring, and he narrowed his eyes in amusement. “Don’t know if you know this, doll…but dying isn’t all that hard to do.”

(Y/N) glared as she passed him to the door, slamming it on her way out.

***

She wondered aimlessly through the streets, not caring where she was headed. After a few hours, a beeping sounded from her wrist; she raised her wrist and pushed a button on it. “Hello?”

Bruce’s worried voice came over the comm. (Y/N)? Where are you?

She looked around, taking in the view of the bay. “At the docks.”

Stay there. I’m coming to get you.

The call ended and she collapsed onto the bench, staring out at the water. Her hand reached up to hold the ring that hung at her neck but clenched around nothing. (Y/N) glanced down, then remembered where it went; tears filled her eyes and she reached up, covering her eyes as she sobbed.

A few moments later, the sound of the Batmobile pulling up came behind her, and then, a hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up, blinking through the tears to see Bruce frowning at her. “Let’s get back to the cave (Y/N).” She nodded and he helped her stand, walking her to the passenger side; she slid in and buckled the seat belt, staring out the windshield as he climbed in the driver’s seat.

The city passed them in a blur, and soon, they were back in the cave; Bruce turned off the Batmobile and they sat in silence until she whispered, “I know who he is.”

Bruce was quiet a few moments, then he murmured, “…I know as well.”

(Y/N) turned to him. “Ra’s brought him back.”

“It was actually Talia. Ra’s apparently called him a curse set upon the world.”

She huffed a laugh, but it was anything but humorous. “Right about now, I’m not sure whether I should agree with Ra’s or not…I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“How did you find out?”

“I saw him from the ledge I was on. I tailed him to an alley, and when he showed his face, I passed out from the shock.” (Y/N) looked at him. “Woke up and we got into it about what he’s doing…I left.” She paused. “How’d you find out?”

He sighed and reclined against the headrest. “We fought after I found Onyx, he revealed himself and...”

“And?”

“And after testing the coffin and the blood samples he left…it’s him.”

(Y/N) snorted and shook her head. “I could’ve told you that.”

They lapsed into silence, then Bruce murmured, “You aren’t wearing the necklace.” (Y/N) rested a hand along the base of her throat then shifted, climbing out of the Batmobile; Bruce followed her.

They walked a few feet, stopping in front of Jason’s old suit; (Y/N) stared at it, then turned to Bruce. “We made that promise when we were young and naïve…but now?” She turned around and began walking away. “I don’t think there’s a place for him and I in this world anymore. Not like this there isn’t.”

***Part Five***

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

His hands halted at her question but continued a second later. “You being there will only make a distraction.”

“Maybe, but it might also make him give in easier.”

He clicked the utility belt around his waist and looked up at her. “He had his chance to surrender when you two were together, (Y/N). Now I’m putting my foot down.”

She watched him move past her towards the Batmobile, and she reached out, griping his bicep; his eyes met hers and she said, “Call me if it gets bad.”

“It won’t.”

“It will.” (Y/N) squeezed his arm firmly. “And when it happens, you’ll need me to talk to him. We both know I’m the only one who can even begin to reason with him.” He said nothing, and she let go, watching him climb into the Batmobile and speed off.

After a few moments, she walked over to the Batcomputer and sat down, hitting a few keys until the monitor displayed Bruce’s cowl camera; she watched the scenes play in front of her, the mess with Black Mask, up until Bruce leaving to go find Jason.

Footsteps sounded beside her, and she glanced up to see Alfred looking at the screen. “So Master Bruce is going after Master Jason?”

(Y/N) looked back at the screen and nodded. “Yes.”

“Hmm. And you stayed behind?”

She bit her lip, eying the screen. “…It’s not my place to get between them.”

“It’s not?” he almost sounded shocked at her admission.

“No. This is Bruce and Jason’s fight now. It’s dragged on long enough.”

Alfred watched her for a few moments before humming again. “Hmm. And here I thought Master Jason still held privilege in your heart Miss (Y/N). I must admit it is hard to see that you have moved on so soon.” It was all he said as he turned on his heel and crossed the cave floor, leaving (Y/N) with her thoughts.

She stared at the screen for a few seconds, taking in Alfred’s words before mumbling, “Ah fuck it.” She rose from the chair and made her way to the case where her suit was, reaching out and pulling it from its holds; she slipped it on and tightened the straps and belts, moving to her bike.

Alfred stood beside her, holding out her whip. “I do believe this is yours, Miss (Y/N).”

“Make sure to keep in radio contact with us…we might need you Alfie.” He nodded and saw her off.

***

(Y/N) arrived in the nick of time, seeing Jason and Bruce moving into fighting stances. She pulled out her grapple and swung up to the fire-escape, standing between them; they were shocked to see her there. “(Y/N)?”

She eyed Jason and squared her shoulders, her back to Bruce. “Enough Jason.”

He stood up straight and glowered at her. “Move (Y/N).”

“No.” she retorted; she wasn’t afraid of him. This was still her Jason. A little worn and little darker, and a lot more damaged, but still him. Still good.

“This doesn’t concern you. This is between me and him.”

(Y/N) shook her head and pointed between them. “This concerns me just as much as it concerns you, Jason.”

His response was cut off by Bruce who gripped her arm firmly. “You need to leave (Y/N).”

“I’m not going anywhere Bruce.” She looked between them. “I’m stopping this before it goes too far. Let this end so we can talk.”

Bruce squeezed her arm, his voice hardening. “Your place isn’t here right now, (Y/N).”

She gazed at him for a few moments, before jerking her arm back, this time turning her back to Jason, as if protecting him. “This is my place, Bruce. Right here. Between you,” She paused and glanced over her shoulder, catching Jason’s eyes. “And Jason.” His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and she turned back to Bruce. “Fighting isn’t going to solve our problems. We’re all suffering from what happened in the past and what’s happening now. Stop this so we can help each other.”

Bruce went silent at her mini-speech, and she thought he was going to agree until he shook his head. “Jason plans on killing Joker…I’m stopping him tonight.”

Jason barked a laugh. “You can try and stop me.” The two of them shifted but stopped when the sound of a devastating explosion rocked the city, and an angry green light covered them; they all turned to the sight and Jason murmured, “That’s Blüdhaven.”

(Y/N) and Bruce’s eyes widened, and they both breathed in disbelief. “Dick?”

Jason chuckled at them. “My God…is Nightwing there? Imagine that. One son returns from the grave as another one enters it…what a fitting ending this has become.” Neither Bruce nor (Y/N) could form words as they watched in horror as the sister-city disintegrated before their eyes. “Good God, the ironies around. Here we are and you have to run to the site of an explosion to dig through the wreckage and find the body of your ‘Boy Sidekick.’ If he’s there, Bruce…you’re too late. Again.” Bruce shifted, starting towards Blüdhaven when a blast knocked him sideways. “No! You’re not leaving! Not now! Not this time!”

Bruce looked back at Jason, his voice and gaze pleading. “Jason. Please. I—”

Jason cut him off, his voice angry. “What! You ‘have to be sure?!’ Getting out of that alive would be one neat trick. It’d take a hell of a lot more than batarangs and a few escrima sticks to survive.” He paused, a smile playing at his lips. “If Ol’ Dickie is there. He’s dead. And if you leave…someone else dies tonight.”

(Y/N) shook herself out of her stupor and put a finger to her ear. “Alfred! Can you read me?”

“Yes Miss (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

“A nuclear bomb was just set off in Blüdhaven.”

“My God…Master Dick—”

“Send the Batplane to my location.”

She felt an arm curl around her bicep, and she glanced up at Bruce. “(Y/N) the Batplane wasn’t made to withstand such high levels of radiation. You’ll die if you’re exposed too much.”

Pulling her arm from his grasp, she began walking towards the ledge. “Alfred send the Batplane. Now.” She heard Alfred give her confirmation that it was on its way, and she turned to Bruce. “I’ll go find Dick…you end this here. Tonight.” Her eyes passed over Jason who wore a dark expression and the sound of the Batplane echoed in the sky.

She climbed in and spared them one last look before turning the Batplane away and flying towards Blüdhaven. She pushed buttons on the screen and talked to Alfred. “Alfred, scan for the tracker in Dick’s suit.”

“At once Miss (Y/N).” There was silence for a few moments then he came back over the comm. “I’ve got a location Miss (Y/N). But it isn’t the exact. Too much radiation interfering with the radar.”

“I’ll find him Alfred. Just upload his suit vitals into the system.” The sound of tapping came over and then a blinking line shot across the screen. “Alfred, how insulated is my suit to radiation?”

“As best as it can, be Miss (Y/N). Though with the lower half of your face exposed, you’re risking high exposure to the radiation, you’d be overcome with radiation sickness within the hour.”

“Does Bruce have any type of mask I can wear?”

“Check the bin beside you. There might be one.”

(Y/N) pressed a button, halting the Batplane and reached over, searching the bin; she pulled out a mask and fit it around her face, pushing the button on the side that sealed it. “Alright. I’m good.”

“Master Dick is in the outskirts of the city. Hurry Miss (Y/N)…too much exposure will kill him.”

(Y/N) disengaged the lock and began scanning the perimeter of the city for him. It took her about thirty minutes to find him, and when she did, she saw the radiation already beginning to affect him; she lowered the Batplane to the ground and ran out, crossing the street laden with debris until she got to him.

“Dick!” He turned in the direction of her voice, but she could tell he was disoriented; he staggered towards her, falling to his knees just as she reached him. (Y/N) caught his upper body before he fell over and she wrapped an arm under his and across his back, heaving him to his feet. “It’s alright, Dick. I’ve got you.”

He moaned trying to find his feet, and she began pulling him towards the Batplane. “Need…to check…for survivors.”

(Y/N) shook her head at him, heaving him closer. “We can’t do anything right now, Dick. We need to get out of here.”

“But…the survivors—”

“Dick. We can’t save them. I have to get you out of here before the radiation makes you sicker.” He relented his fight and allowed her to carry him to the plane; (Y/N) got him into a seat and strapped in, handing him a bag. “You’ll probably be sick for a while, so try to throw up in the bag.” He nodded weakly and she sat in the seat, then the Batplane rose and made its way back to Gotham. “Alfred, I’ve got Dick. Get some KI ready for him to take when we get back to the cave.”

“Shall I update Master Bruce?”

“Just tell him I got Dick and that he’s okay.”

“I will. Hurry back.”

“Will do.” The comm went silent and she glanced over her shoulder at Dick. “Dickie? You good?”

He was moaning lowly, but moved a few fingers, telling her he was. “…Where’s…Bruce?”

She felt her heart tighten, but she pushed it aside. “Fighting Red Hood.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“You…should’ve….stayed.”

“Stop talking Dick.”

“…M’kay.”

***

The rest of the ride was silent, and when she returned to the cave, Alfred was waiting for her with a gurney. They got Dick on it and wheeled him to the med-room in the cave; they rolled him onto the bed and (Y/N) gripped the zipper at his neck, pulling it down. Alfred helped her pull his suit off, and soon, Dick was asleep in the bed, the two of them resting in the chairs beside him.

“How did you find Master Dick?”

(Y/N) watched Dick’s chest rise and fall with each breath and she murmured, “Dick’s always put the safety of others above himself.” She glanced at Alfred. “I knew he’d try to help survivors in the area.” She rose from the seat and rested a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “I need to go find Bruce. You look after Dick.”

He nodded and she left the cave, climbing back into the Batplane and taking off.

***

She scoured the city until she caught Bruce’s signal; she tapped a few buttons, connecting into the comm. “Bruce?”

(Y/N). Is Dick—

“He’s fine, Bruce. I got him back to the cave.”

There was a pause, then Bruce’s voice came over relived. Good.

“Where are you?”

Delivering Joker to the Asylum.

“And Jason?”

Gone.

She paused, inhaling shakily before murmuring, “I’ll find him…you go back to the cave and see Dick.”

Are you sure?

“I need to do this Bruce. Let me.”

Be careful, (Y/N).

“Jason would never hurt me, Bruce. You don’t have to worry about me.”

…I always worry about you all.

The corners of her mouth rose, and she quipped, “Yeah, we know.” The comm went dead and she turned the Batplane in the direction of Jason’s apartment. She landed on the opposite roof and swung over, lifting a window, and slipping in.

(Y/N) crept across the floor, taking in the view of the small blood puddles on the ground. She followed them into the bedroom and saw him resting on the bed, a blood-soaked towel held to his neck; he was sweating and letting out low groans. (Y/N) walked towards him and reached out, her hand covering the one that held the towel.

His eyes snapped open at the touch and his other hand came up defensively; she caught it and his eyes widened at the sight of her. “…(Y/N)?”

She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over, pressing the towel harder to him. “Where’s your first-aid kit?”

He nodded towards the bathroom. “Under…the sink.”

(Y/N) nodded and rose, moving into the bathroom; she returned a few minutes later holding the kit and a bottle of alcohol. She took her seat back on the bed and moved his hand, pulling the towel from its position; she worked quickly, running the alcohol over it, and murmuring a soft “sorry” as he hissed in pain. (Y/N) dabbed the wound before pulling a needle and thread, suturing his wound.

After a few minutes, she pulled the knot and clipped the leftover string, running a pad of alcohol over it once more. She put everything away and found some washcloths, dampening one; then, she moved back to him and wiped away the sweat from his upper body before running the dry one over him, collecting the moisture.

(Y/N) could feel his gaze on her the entire time, but she refused to make eye-contact, instead murmuring, “Feel any better?”

He was silent a few moments, then he mumbled, “…Yeah.”

(Y/N) wiped her hands on the towel and rested them on the nightstand; she cleared her throat and moved to stand. “Then since you’re fine, I’ll leave.” She got to her feet when a hand curled around her fingers, and she looked down at him.

His eyes no longer held the fury they’d held earlier, instead, they begged for help. “Stay with me, (Y/N).”

She swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay here, Jason.” She started to pull away, but the hand tightened.

“Please don’t leave me, (Y/N).” he plead, and she met his eyes, shocked to see tears forming in them. “Please don’t leave me alone again.”

“Jason, I—”

“I need you…please.”

She stared at him for a few moments before nodding. “…Okay…I’ll stay.” (Y/N) moved, climbing onto the bed beside him; she rested her head on his chest, feeling his arm curl around her waist. “…You know he loves you…don’t you?” Jason didn’t say anything, she knew he wasn’t going to immediately, so she did. “There isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t think about you…that he doesn’t think about how he failed you…that he was responsible for you.” She paused. “You claim he loved you like a son and left you…”

(Y/N) inhaled and lifted her head, locking eyes with him and she declared, “But you were—you are his son, Jason. And he loves you more than life itself.”

He swallowed thickly, and she watched him raise his hand to his eyes; his face morphed in agony and (Y/N) listened as he sobbed. She shifted, crawling up the bed and pulling him to her; his face buried in her chest and his arms wound around her waist, holding her. She raised a hand and gently ran her fingers through his hair, comforting him.

***

After an hour or so, they were still lying in the bed, Jason resting his weight on (Y/N) as she sat against the headboard. Her fingers still ran through his hair, sometimes lightly scratching his scalp, like she remembered he loved, and her other hand rested on his shoulder, gently massaging. They said nothing, just entranced in each other, until Jason broke it, whispering, “…I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I am too, Jason.”

He tilted his head up, giving her a stunned look. “For what?”

“I turned my back on you…when I should’ve been there to help you.” She paused, looking at him. “I was wrong to damn you without trying to understand what you were doing, and why.”

He swallowed, nodding his head to her words; his gaze drifted to her eyes, and he mumbled, “I never meant to disappoint you.”

(Y/N) stared into his teal eyes, and raised a hand, gently brushing the hair away from the tips of his cheekbones, setting it behind his ear. “Neither did I.”

Jason swallowed and raised his weight on his forearms, crawling up her body. “I never wanted to be at odds with you...I wanted to explain everything to you…but I was scared of your reaction.” His face was in front of hers now.

She sighed, nodding, “I know.”

He went quiet for a moment, then reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing along it. “I still love you…and I want you beside me.” (Y/N) met his eyes, watching as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “Will you come with me?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Somewhere far away from Gotham.” He paused, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Come with me, (Y/N)…we can go anywhere we want.” Her hands came up and rested along his shoulders, gently pushing him away. His face twisted and he sat back, watching her rise too.

(Y/N) took his hands, brushing her thumbs along the backs of them; she met his gaze and she spoke firmly. “I’ll go with you.” His eyes widened and his face began to turn joyful until she said, “But you have to do something for me.”

“What?”

“A lot of the unnecessary killing has to stop.” His eyebrows furrowed and she squeezed his hands. “If you want me to come with you? To stay with you and to be with you? You’ve got to try.” (Y/N) pulled her hands back and sat up straight. “Jason, I know you do what you do because you think it’s right. And while I understand that there are some people who don’t deserve to breathe? They’re still human beings. Rapists and murderers, I can get behind your guns. But the petty drug dealers and small-time criminals? Jason, they aren’t worth the bullets you’d spend.”

He observed her for a few moments before reaching past her, opening the nightstand, and pulling something out; his hand was clenched and he spoke quietly, “When I first gave this to you, we were fifteen…we had our whole lives ahead of us. And when I was gone, you never stopped holding on.” He looked at her and said, “That kind of love isn’t something that just dies, (Y/N).”

His hand uncurled and the saw the familiar ring in his open palm. “When you gave this back to me…I was devastated. But…I think it started to open my eyes about us. And I think as long as you’re with me, I can get through anything.” He held out his palm again. “If I ask you again, will you accept?”

“Will try to honor my side of the arrangement?”

“I’ll…try to...I can’t make a promise to it though.”

(Y/N) nodded. “The fact that you’ll try is good enough for me.”

He took her hand and held the ring. “(Y/N) (L/N)…will you marry me?” Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded silently, too choked up to make words; Jason slid the ring on her finger and held her hand, his thumb rubbing the back of it. (Y/N) leaned forward and Jason pulled her into his lap, holding her to him. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Jason.” she whispered against his shoulder.

After a few minutes, she mumbled against his shoulder; Jason chuckled. “(Y/N), I can’t hear you clearly.”

She pulled back, giving him a smile. “I want to get married in Switzerland.”

“Why Switzerland?”

“So, I can shove you into the snow after you kiss me.” The two of them laughed and Jason shifted, wrapping an arm around her waist; her arms wound around his neck, and he gently lowered her back against the bed. They stared at each other until (Y/N)’s eyes darted to the side. “So…are you going to kiss me? Or are you gonna keep staring at me like a weirdo?”

He snorted at her question and shifted a hand, tracing her cheek. “Just thinking about how pretty you are, doll.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “When did you start calling people doll?”

“Kinda just caught on.” He shrugged.

“Mhm.”

The two of them laughed again, then Jason admitted, “I don’t know if I can be the man you deserve, (Y/N).”

She shook her head, threading her fingers in his hair as she said, “You are already more than enough for me, Jason…if anything, I’m not sure if I’m the one who’s deserving of you.”

“Will you stay with me?”

(Y/N) leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, and whispered, “Now and forever.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #red hood #batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #robin #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #dc #dc imagines #dc imagine

[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 8

Part 1,

part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

The final chapter. Congratulations for surviving this long with my bullshit-

“Everyone, please place the flower we have given you in their coffin.”

The sunlight was shining brightly in the early morning of NRC’s campus, 

but no happiness was to be found.

Just yesterday, you have died.

And it took a moment for Azul to realize that you were truly gone.

Everyone in NRC lined up in a single file to pay their final respects to you, one by one placing their flower in your coffin.

When it came to Azul’s turn, he had to hold himself from crying. He felt as if you were watching him. If he cried, you’ll cry too, and he doesn’t want you to fully leave this world with sadness and guilt.

He looked at you. Even if you’re dead, you looked as beautiful as ever.

He grabbed your cold hands, and placed the flower in the middle of your chest, before he gently used your hands to cover the flower, as if you are holding it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I hope you go to a safe place.” And he walked away.

=============================================================

Azul walked back to Octavinelle with Jade and Floyd. They were silent. Yes, even Floyd stayed quiet.

The atmosphere was solemn.

Azul was solemn.

Never in his life have he came across death, let alone, someone he hold close to.

He used to love before.

He went back to his office alone and tilted his head up. Jade and Floyd went back to their rooms.

He’s not crying. He won’t cry for you.

Read it.

He heard something whisper.

“What..?”

The notebook.

He glanced to his right, the notebook labelled “ To Azul Ashengrotto”.

“Read it after they die,” Trey’s words echoed in his head as he recalls.

He grabbed the book.

To Azul Ashengrotto.

He stared at it, hesitantly flipping to the first page.

“I’m rewriting this from the accounts of Y/n, Azul. She asked for it. I hope you’re reading this.

- Trey Clover”

So Trey wrote this book for you to him.

“Azul and I were chilling at Monstro Lounge in the VIP room.

Lmao, he was soooo unlucky with his pulls, and had to answer all my questions and stuff. Apparently he thinks Idia is more handsome than Jade. Ooh~ 

I really loved the fact he wanted to spend time with me although he looks so done. I really appreciate it!”

He snorted. That was so you.

“Azul and I hanged out at the Rose Kingdom. I’m so glad Headmaster allowed me to hang out with him! Sometimes I feel like Headmaster is a dad. 

I had so much fun! Though, it’s kinda embarrassing that Azul spoilt me with so many gifts, and all I did was drag him around. I love the octopus plushie he won for me. It’s so chubby, soft and cute, just like him! 

He also bought me food from Trey’s awesome family bakery, and a really expensive pendent. I feel guilty, but I love it! It’s so pretty!”

He sighed. Really? Chubby?

“Headmaster told me I’m going to die in five months time. I’m really scared. I know I’ve joked about I feel like dying cuz of Professor Crewel’s homework, now facing with death, it feels really scary.

I have to tell everyone right? Headmaster told me he’ll tell my friends, that includes Azul. How would he feel? I don’t want him to feel sad..”

He flipped to the next page.

“Azul, Jade and Floyd came to visit me. Actually EVERYONE did! Even Leona and Idia! Can you believe it?? But I was so happy that Azul and the tweels came.

I rubbed my eyes so hard because I didn’t want them to see me cry. I was just so happy to see them!”

“Trey told me something. Well, an offered to do something for me. 

He knew I had a superrrr big crush on Azul, and he said I should tell him. I was so embarrassed at first, but I’m going to die soon, so I have to confess sooner or later right? 

He told me he’ll write a whole record of me of what I want to tell him, and then I can give it for him to read after I die.

Sounds like a good idea, but also kind of cruel. After I die????

What should I do?”

So that’s what you were talking about with him.

“I got to be discharged!

FINALLY OH MY SEVENSSSSS-

I CAN GET FRESH AIR BEFORE I DIE

DO YOU KNOW HOW BORING IT IS TO BE CHAINED TO A BED, DOING NOTHING UNTIL SOMEONE COMES TO VISIT???

PROFESSOR TREIN’S CLASS IS WAY BETTER-

Azul brought me around the entire campus, and to Octavinelle! And we played UNO! Although I lost a lot... But I’m happy I got to spend time with him and see everyone outside of the infirmary! ^^”

“I went to NRC’s Halloween Celebration!

IT. WAS. SO. COOL!!

There were like flying decorations and good food,

I got to see NRC become so lively and colorful! It was amazing!

Also I got to hang out with Azul and the tweels, and of course, everyone else!

I even got to be part of all the scaring and stuff at the Octavinelle’s scare house! heheheh~ 

I love the big finale, I wish it could last forever.”

“I made up my mind. 

I’m gonna ask Trey to help me write that book. I want Azul to have a piece of me even when I’m gone. I won’t leave him alone, and I’ll do everything in my power to do so.

If Trey is giving me the opportunity to do so, I’ll take it! Though, I should’ve done it from the beginning..”

“Azul kissed me. 

Oh my shit-

MMM I SHOULDN’T HAVE DRANK THE PLUM WINE HE GAVE ME BEFORE WE KISSED, I PROBABLY SMELT BAD-

BUT HE SAID HE LIKES IT??? WAS IT A GOOD CALL I DON’T KNOW-

But... I’m happy.. I got the courage to confess to him! On top of that, he said yes! I’m so happy I could cry..”

“I’m going to be giving the notebook to Trey. He’s gonna record it all down for me today. 

Azul, I hope you’re reading this. I want you to flip to the back. I asked Trey to attached something really important I want to share with you.”

He flipped to the back. There was a slip of paper folded, stapled to the page. It also held the pendent he bought for you. He grabbed it, and unfolded the paper.

“Azul, 

I’m writing this to you 5 months before I die. Crowley told me to tell everyone about my condition, but I wrote this for you specially.

Remember I told you in that truth or dare game?

“If I told you I was scared to die, what would you do?”

To tell you now, I’m still kind of scared. But I won’t show it! Pretending not being scared isn’t like lying.

Okay, but a practical thing, you could do anything you want with this book.

You can tear it up, throw it away, hide it or even show to everyone! Totally up to you!

I’m gonna be honest with you, I was and still jealous of you.

You were and are the picture perfect honor student of NRC. I haven’t been in NRC as long as you, but I’m just so jealous you manage to be so cool and flawless in everything you do! Well, maybe except for flying..

But still! You were and still are my role model! You always manage to amaze me! But not only that, you treated me like your best friend no matter what position you are! Maybe that’s why I fell for you, you didn’t show biasness towards me to become my friend. I hope you were genuine about our friendship!

But, I like the fact you actually sometimes don’t need other people to reflect about yourself, unlike me. I can’t reflect about me all by myself. If I were like you, maybe I could’ve been able to live entirely by myself, with my own unique worth and responsibilities. Of course, while still being friends with others!

But when it comes to self reflection, you are down to earth with yourself, you speak to yourself, and that’s very independent of you. Ever since you were little you were like that too, and that’s what made you hardworking and diligent!

I’ll end it right here, to tell you I love you. Ehehe~ Sorry it’s so sudden.

I love you, meanie.”

drip.

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter.

Slowly, Azul felt tears rolling down his face.

He broke. Except... that wasn’t true.

He’d been broken when he first heard you were about to die. He just kept strong for you, as you did for him.

He was so glad, he had spent his time with you.

You needed him. You felt like he’d done everything for you.

But now, you’re gone.

It was thanks to you, he never felt insecure about his past anymore. For the first time he met you, his really lived for the first time. He existed in this world.

“Thank you, y/n..” he choked, smiling meekly at your final goodbye letter to him, as he clutched the pendent he gave you.

“I love you so much...”

From Ramshackle dorm, your slightly dusty octopus plushie rest on the side of your pillow.

From far away, he sensed you hugging it, whispering so close to him although so far,

“I love you too, meanie..”

END

============================================================

HO SHIT-

REBLOG IT I FELT MY TEARS I-

Ok I’m joking

thank you for surviving and following with the story. 

Azul loves you. Bye, have a good day!

@magicpumpkin3 don’t kill me pls-

#twst #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst azul #twisted wonderland azul x reader #twisted wonderland azul #twst azul x reader #twst angst #twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #azul loves you #trey clover

[cupidsintern]

shot thru the heart, pt 3

pt 1 //pt 2

-

Steve staves off actually caving and asking Billy for the notes for as long as he possibly can. Which is like, four days.

He actually needs those notes, for real, because he hasn’t been able to write a single fucking thing except the day’s date on his paper since…. Since Billy started sitting behind him at the beginning of the semester. It’s just been distracting, okay? That’s all.

That’s all.

And if Steve thinks about this anymore his head is going to literally explode so-

“Hey, Hargrove.” Steve catches up to Billy just as they are both leaving class. And he spaces out for a millisecond thinking how every time he thinks about blonde-curls-blue-eyes he thinks Billy, but what he says is ‘Hargrove.’

Billy slows, looks over his shoulder a little like he’s letting Steve know he’s allowed to continue, but he doesn't stop walking. He’s a faster walker than Steve, even though Steve’s legs are longer. Too long- he feels like a fucking. One of those. Desert-deer things. Antelope? No, a gazelle- it’s a gazelle.

“I, uh,” Steve realizes he’s never actually walked anywhere with Billy before, and has never entertained the possibility, but he started talking, so he may as well keep going. “If you’re still cool with it, borrowing your notes would be like, really helpful.” Why does he sound so stilted?

“Sure.” Billy seems so impartial to the whole thing, but Steve grins, a little relieved.

“Great! Uh, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Billy nudges past him.

Now Steve’s standing alone on the sidelines of the main hall. And he feels warm all over again.

Steve is sitting at his desk the next day when a small stack of notes gets dropped in front of him- the paper snaps a little against the desk’s wood top.

Steve turns around in time to catch Billy sliding into the seat behind him.

“Hey,” Steve smiles, tries to think of something else to say like ‘thanks again’ when Billy goes,

“That's everything I have from this unit. Don’t write on them cause I want them back.”

“Okay,” Steve thinks Billy seems like he's trying to compensate for something. “Thanks again.”

Billy shrugs. But he does smile a bit. One of his nothing-matters-I'm-cool smiles.

“Maybe we could study together sometime-” Steve says before thinking about it at all, so it comes out way lower than he means it to so he has to clear his throat and go “If you want.”

Steve panics for a split second, something trying to flip over in his chest and he worries Billy’s gonna think he was asking something else, is gonna get him all wrong- but-

“If I didn't know better I’d say you were asking me to hangout, Harrington.” Billy laughs just a little. A little huff, sharp off his tongue.

Steve looks away, then looks back to Billy. “I mean, sure, yeah.”

Steve can swear Billy lights up for a second, smiles a little brighter, sits up more- but then, no. Billy only looks nonchalant again. “Hm. Maybe.” Then he looks back at his own notebook. And Steve takes that as a signal that the conversation is Now Over.

He turns back to his desk. Billy’s notes are still there.

It's days before the test, and Steve is sure that Billy's notes would be super helpful if he was actually reading them for clarity and understanding or whatever, but instead he’s discovered something entirely different, scribbled in the margins of almost every page; commentary. Billy writes literal commentary, more scrawly and casual than the rest of his legible nites.

Shit like; “Incorrect date in lecture but who’s gonna notice that certainly not the guy whos supposed to be fucking teaching us this no sir” and “just saw a bird out the window” and “Five minutes in and you have no idea what’s going on huh?”

That last one seems a little sweeter than the two before it, though. Like Billy’s talking to someone, other than himself.

Steve loves looking at those notes.

Loves the slopes and slants of the writing. Loves the commentary. Loves the little doodles Billy does in the margins. A knife with a spiraly handle. A skull that’s actually pretty good, could make a good tattoo maybe. Roses- lots of them. All different sizes. And a little heart with an arrow shot through it. Steve didn’t know Billy likes to draw. He’s not half bad. Steve smiles to himself a little. Runs his hand over one of the roses absently, wonders if they’re Billy's favorite because they’re Steves favorite, because they’re the classic-

Steve should probably be learning a lot more than he was though.

Steve actually studies for a few days. Like two, but still. He looks at Billy's notes multiple times. Actually invests time and energy into learning shit. So, you know, good for him. Good for him, managing to get good enough with Billy to actually reap the benefits of almost-friendship, because honestly maybe they could be friends, right? Maybe.

Hopefully.

Steve kind of likes sitting near Billy now, kind of likes the banter they have going, likes how Billy never makes him feel dumb, even if he calls him dumb…

But he still leaves class right as the bell rings, quick as a whip crack. Steve can barely even get in a ‘goodbye.’

He’s only a little disappointed, but it’s not like he has any reason to care-

He looks down.

Billy’s notebook. On the ground in the desk aisle.

It must have fallen out of Billy’s backpack on his brisk way out.

Steve scoops it up, shoves it in his backpack, and is out the door without so much as a second thought.

The second thoughts kick in when Steve gets home. When he tosses his backpack on his bed and paces around like that's gonna do anything before walking back over and pulling Billy’s notebook out and just, Holding it. Looking at it. Feeling overcome with.. Something.

He should open it. No, he shouldn’t, it’s not his.

But he wants to.

Billy ripped out pages to give him notes, clearly there’s stuff in here for Billy’s eyes only.

Steve can’t help himself.

He opens it.

And honestly, it’s pretty standard stuff. Old notes. More commentary that Steve relishes with every new word. A doodle of Bugs Bunny holding a joint that’s actually pretty good.

And a half-ripped page in the back that reads:

“Literally so beautiful it’s impossible not to-

But I don’t think you’re a dumbass-

I promise. Which is dumb, bec-

but I can’t help myself. I-

wish you knew how -

wonder if I’m i-

smells good-

Stupid-”

It’s a love letter. Steve’s dumb, but he’s not stupid. No doubt in his mind- this is a love letter.

Steve sits there. Reading the broken up sentences, over and over.

Billy wrote a love letter. Unmistakably his handwriting. Pieces of beautiful ideas about someone Billy is clearly crazy about-

And Steve’s heat sinks. Sinks all the way down from its high-falutin place in his throat, pushing at the back of his tongue down, down, into the darkest pit of his stomach. Immediately he knows-

That warm feeling from before? The all consuming too-hot cinnamon and grease feeling from before was not jealousy.

This is jealousy.

The idea that Billy cares about someone enough to write them a letter in his perfect pretty collected handwriting makes Steve sick with envy. He just sort of figured he was the only person relevant enough to take up Billy's brainspace. Not like anyone else thinks about Steve in any way anymore…

Steve drops the notebook back on his bed like it burned him. He sits on the edge of his bed, tilts his head up to the ceiling, closes his eyes.

Fuck. Fuck please dear god why now.

Steve wished this was the first time this had happened. The first time he'd stumbled his way into thinking about a guy like that.

But it wasn't. God he didn't want to have to think about this. He tries never to think about this shit. It wasn't like it happened all the time, wasn't like he couldn't just wait for it to go away like he had before.

But it did mean he had to stop talking to Billy right the fuck now.

No more copying his notes. No more maybe-hanging out. No more fucking banter in class. Steve needed to crush this… fluke. Before it became anything worse.

But if he was so resolved to not think about Billy like that, then why couldn’t he just get rid of the torn letter?

-

part 4 coming sooon! the thrilling conclusion !!!

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #harringrove fanfic #harringrove fic #my fic

[smoochi-modest]

✿ [ Rose ] ✿

—> Genshin Impact - [ Xiao x Reader ]

—>  [ Fem! Reader. No warnings on this one, it's more so an intro into a small series I plan create. Unsure what to classify it under, I'd say a fluff / comfort for the time being. ]

—> Description - [ He loves me, he loves me not or She loves me, she loves me not (originally effeuiller la marguerite in French) is a game of French origin, in which one person seeks to determine whether the object of their affection returns that affection. ]

—> Note - [ Please bare with me here, it's been awhile since I wrote anything. I apologize for any errors. 1.3k word count. ]

One rose symbolizes love at first sight, or so they say.

" He loves me... " you mutter as a delicate red rose petal found its way to the ground between your legs. Here you were, crisscrossed on the top of a mountain, lap full of pitiful flower petals. Each petal, each attempt at comforting a lonely soul. It felt as if the petal themselves plucked pieces of your heart in every negative way. Your heart strings playing a saddened yet calming tune for only you that night.

In all honesty, the "he" laced in your statement had been unknown for some time now. You weren't too sure who you wished for, however you knew someone must've been out there willing to give you even a moment of their precious time.

" ...He loves me not " Plucking the last petal, sighing in defeat you throw away the stem of yet another flower tarnished without any sign of blessings coming your way. What a silly tale, that a mere rose could predict something as important as ones true feelings for another.

Sat beneath the stars on the outskirts of a well known harbor, you watch as people group up within the city of Liyue, today was supposed to be a special day; or so you thought.

The celebration of a fresh full moon, and the day we honour the loss of an adeptus whom in the past saved their light. Their love. Their peace.

Here you sat alone. Admiring the lanterns that begun to float up into the night sky. Shifting in your spot, you grasp a hold of all the petals which were previously in your lap. Staring off into the night, you drop the petals, allowing them to fly in the gentle breeze along with the lanterns.

As you lost touch of the final petal, you hear a sound on the opposing side of the bush you had been at for quite some time now. Stealthily you make your way to it, cautious not to be seen by any danger that may lay behind its contents. Peeking a head over, your eyes are met with a young man seated on the grass, admiring the brightened sky.

The boy seemed to notice your presence almost immediately. Shifting his gaze, two golden eyes shine within your own, that gentle faraway look seemed to flee as a sternness arrived the moment you locked eye contact. Following afterwards, a short gasp escaped between your parted lips. Kneeling back down behind your rose bush, you couldn't help but feel guilty to have ruined his peace.

You weren't expecting to see another face in this area, most who came to see the Lantern Rite celebration were down in the city, so just who is that boy? curiously, you peak over once again to observe him. Only to be met with his eyes but much closer this time. Turns out he approached the bush as well, sitting just on the other side. He didn't make a peep, staring back at you with a near blank expression. Not a word had been said until you quietly mutter an apology,

" I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone to be up here..."

Feeling awkward, trapped in his gaze, you shy away, looking at the grass beneath you, the sight of a single red rose left in the bush went far from unnoticed.

" I could say the same to you, mortal. "

Mortal? he spoke as if he weren't one as well, from the looks of it he was as human as you. You would've questioned but something about meeting a new person made you tense. Would it have been rude to question him right off the bat like this? who is he?

" Are you alright? " He said aloud, seeming almost concerned by your silence.

" I'm okay, just a little shocked is all. "

" Alright. "

With that, he looked back at the sky. His back leaning against the bush. The mysterious boy seemed to ease up, meanwhile you still felt tense. Perhaps some small talk could ease your nerves. You weren't sure if this was a good inexpectancy, but it didn't seem to hold any danger. The young mans presence was welcomed, but kept at a safe distance. You can't seem to recall the last time you spoke to someone besides yourself that day.

" The lanterns are pretty, aren't they? " You began, your gaze shifting back and forth between the lone rose and the night sky. At this point you couldn't differentiate the stars from the far off lanterns.

" They are. " He stated coolly, seeming fixated on the floating lights. This boy was at peace, a rare sight that you were graced to see without even realizing it. Curiosity burns in your soul, craving to learn more about him.

" Pardon me asking, but who exactly are you? Wait, I'm sorry. That's rude of me to not introduce myself first... " You began to fumble your words, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. " My name is [y/n]! "

Internally beating yourself over the head, you can't help but replay the introduction in your mind over an over again. Since when have you become so awkward? he has done nothing to fluster you so much, yet you can't help but feel your heart pound.

" You may call me Adeptus Xiao. Why are you so persistent on asking silly questions? it's becoming somewhat of an annoyance " the voice grumbles from behind you, as you too now leaned against the bush.

" Is it wrong of me to be curious of a lone boy out on his own? I'm sure I have no room to speak, but I've never seen you around before. Though I can't say I'm much of a people person, so I may have forgotten. " Smiling sheepishly, you attempt to lighten the mood. He doesn't seem to care much for talking with you, only making you frown. Maybe you really were just an annoyance.

" How about you ask me a question in return! "

" Why would I do that? " he inquired.

" Because I'm trying to start a conversation here with you, ya know! and you are making this more difficult than it should be. "

The rosebush had been the only thing separating these two forms, one Mortal, one Adeptus. So close yet so far, they slowly warmed up to the other that night. Accepting each others company, they began to watch the lights of Lique fade, meaning the celebration had to come to an end soon enough as well. Soft tones, soft lights reflecting off your skin from the gentle glow luminating out of Liyue.

A moment of peaceful silence filled the air, until Xiao suddenly stood up in what seemed to be a rush. Concerned, you stood as well, getting a good look at his features for the first time.

" I must cut our time here short, I have a duty that I intend to fulfill. "

Xiao's speech felt so surreal, finding yourself begin to stare in awe. At first glance he'd be like any ordinary boy, but now that you have a moment to really take in his appearance, he was rather attractive. His petite frame wasn't something that overly mattered to you, unlike the way his hair seemed to frolic in the wind rushing to pass by, or the way his golden eyes resonated with the yellow light of lanterns. It felt like you were in the presence of an angel.

You still had so many questions to ask, yearning to be closer to the mysterious boy. Feeling the need to reach out, but didn't have time or were you simply afraid? what was their to fear when all you felt was comfort within his sharp gaze.

" If you ever feel you are in need, call out my name and I will return at your wake and call. "

Taking one last side glance at your shifting expression, he vanished into the night within a blink of an eye. Leaving you behind once again with your lone rose.

'Maybe it wouldn't hurt to pluck a couple extra tonight.' You thought. Smiling gently to yourself, you can't help but replay this special night in your head. Perhaps crossing paths with this Xiao character would be a pleasant change of pace in your life.

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