#would pull the moon from the sky to make her happy

[xurory]

REDAMANCY

summary. he will always have your arms to come home to whenever things get too overwhelming.

pairings. blade, dan heng x fem!reader

cc. mild cursing . blade barely talked because i said so . fluff :3 . silly march

there isn't a time where BLADE is not welcome in your arms, and he's well aware of that. after every stressful day, or coming back from missions that separated him from your for far too long, blade never forgets to melt in beneath your gentle caresses as you caged him in your arms, with his own snaking around your waist, resting the side of his face against your chest, quietly listening to the sound of your heart beating — a sound that constantly reassures your lover that you were there, with him, and that you are safe.

you leaned on against the railing of the balcony in your room, silently gazing upon the ethereal moon that no one could compare to. admiring the glowing ball in the sky was one of the few things you did to feed off your boredom every time you're left alone with nobody to talk to, especially at night, quite obviously because the moon doesn't really appear during the morning, and you wouldn't even dare glance at the sun. the sound of your door creaking open alerted you, who in aeons was at your house at this time of nigh- oh, it's blade.

"fuck, you scared me," said you, gaze softening at the sight of blade in front of you—finally back after two weeks of being away. "welcome back, did everything go well? are you okay?" you interrogated, stepping closer to the man before you.

"it went... accordingly." he replied, hearing your sigh of relief.

saying blade looked exhausted was an understatement, he looked beyond tired, as if he hadn't had a wink of sleep for so long. you pat his shoulder, guiding him to your bed. "do you want some water? hold on, let me— oh." he cuts your talking off by the way he pulled you into a hug, and with how tight he was holding you right now, you needed no other explanation to know that he needed this, badly.

your left arm went on his back to gently pat it as your other hand found it's way to his hair, ruffling his soft locks. you let him just melt into you for as long as he wanted, you weren't the type to pull away first, and you never will be. maybe.. just maybe, something went wrong during his mission with kafka, that it caused him to be this clingy. not that you were complaining—you loved holding him.

blade was never the type of person to initiate acts of affection. meaning, most of the time you were the one hugging and kissing him first, and he did his best to return the gesture, just to make you happy. your back rested against the headboard, knowing that you two would be stuck like this for a very long time, approximately until dawn.

"wanna lay down? make yourself more comfortable." you asked in a hushed tone, not too loud, but not too quiet either. he did as he was asked an laid beside you comfortably, arms still wrapped around your middle as side of his head found its way back to your chest. your hand rested against his head, caressing it with such tenderness he craved for. "thank you, for coming back to me." you whispered, kissing the top of his head.

he hummed back, acknowledging your love. and that was enough, you didn't want to force him to talk. all that mattered was he came back to you in one piece. remaining the man you loved.

being a part of the nameless sure was fun, they brought out the best of your smiles. unlike DAN HENG, who wore the exact same stoic expression almost every day. but still, he atleast showed some signs that he appreciated your presence. but behind closed doors, he's a leech that you can never ever get off of you.

"You guys need to stop teasing the poor guy. Anyway, where is he anyway?" You questioned march, referring to the dark haired guy that disappeared minutes ago. "probably in his room, where else?" march giggled. stelle had gone to mess around with pom-pom who was merely minding her own business near himeko on the couch, drinking her precious coffee.

you smiled to march before heading off to your lover's room, knocking gently at his door and then peeking your head to chech if he was in. your gaze fell on him who was taking care of stuff as he sat in front of his desk. "you disappeared back there, what's up?"

"just wasn't in the mood." you nodded, respecting his decisions. you sat yourself down on the side of his bead, carefully observing the room in case something has changed.

a wave of silence crashed in between the two of you, your back meeting his soft comforter. soon enough, he joined you in bed and left whatever he was working on, arms wrapping around you just right, and resting his head against your shoulder. "tired?" he murmured in reply, rubbing your sides in a circular motion, which slightly tickled you.

you pulled away, leaving him confused just before you cupped his cheeks and kissed him on the lips. the intimate moment laster for another minute before you two had to catch your breath, with you giggling, looking as pretty as ever. he could never have enough of the way you looked gorgeous, utterly beautiful.

for each moment you took away his breath, he fell in love with you all over again, just like the very first time your eyes met his when himeko and welt introduced you as the new addition to the astral express crew.

"ugh, i love you soooo much." you dragged the vowel on your tongue, booping his nose out of nowhere. and after what felt so long, you finally captured him back into your arms, just like he wanted.

from xumi ; i want these two to choke me

#>ᴗ< — xu writes ´ˎ˗ #honkai star rail x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #blade x you #dan heng x you #hsr x you #fem reader #x reader

[willowser]

but this touya 🥺 he's sitting at the kitchen table too early in the morning, awake because your ex-boyfriend is coming to pick up your daughter for their father's day out. touya is half-asleep in his cheerios, only grunting out a response when your daughter asks him questions, bright and cheery, laughing too loud when she pokes and prods him and he grabs her hands up in his own and tickles her.

when the doorbell rings, she's scooping up her backpack and unzipping it quickly, slapping a folded up piece of paper on the table before running off around the corner. you follow her, exchange some pleasantries with her dad, wish him a happy father's day, give your daughter a hug and tell her you'll see her in a few days.

she stands in the doorway and shouts, loud, the high pitch in her voice echoing off the ceiling. "bye dabi!" and when he says it in return, she ends with, "i love you!"

(you don't miss the twist of your ex-boyfriends lips, his clear disaste for touya souring his expression.)

(you don't miss touya's hesitant pause from the kitchen, his voice scratchy and low when he calls back, "love you, too, kid.")

after she's gone, you mosey on back to the kitchen to see him leaning over whatever she'd left him; a piece of construction paper, colorful and a bit messy and crinkled, but all her nonetheless.

it's a picture of she and touya as little stick figures, him much too tall, hair dark and spiky. in between them, you think, is a drum-set, a call-back to the time he'd brought her to the bar he works at before it opened, during the day, and he'd let her bang around on all the instruments and be as loud as she'd wanted.

happy fathers day i love you is written across the top in bright pink, a little hard to read, but there regardless. touya stares at it quietly, only coming back to life after you run a hand over his back gently.

"mom's gonna lose it when she sees this," he murmurs quietly, shaking his head as if the idea is ridiculous.

but you don't miss his quiet sniff, the way he clears his throat before carefully folding the paper back into place, keeping it held tightly in his fist.

#this guy didn’t even WANT KIDS 🥺 #and yall have been together for a little while now and he ADORES your daughter #would pull the moon from the sky to make her happy #but — her real dad is still in the picture ? so he's never considered that she sees him as anything other than 'mom's boyfriend' #so to get a happy father's day drawing 🥺🥺🥺🥺 #it touches his little heart in ways he never expected 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 #WAAAHHH he's so cute ajfheiakal #cw children #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: dabi/touya #✿ theme: dad dabi/touya #✿ theme: step dad touya

[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

#love and deepspace #rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #xavier #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace

[pupcuck]

JINGLE BALLS !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, daddy-daughter incest, leon is creepy ngl, dub-con at first then consensual, daddy issues, you get compared to your mom lots, creampie, daddy kink

note. HAII sorry for this being late omg :3 umm this is weird and jolty and the plot im not totally happy with but :333 ignore typos or I will cry!! feedback and reblogs always so appreciated :3

tumblr removes fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that these fics contain dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“Pumpkin!” Your dad’s embrace is stiff per usual. This guy - he seriously needs a lesson in intimacy. Can’t go hugging your daughter the same way you do a girlfriend. Dads shouldn’t put their hands below your midriff. They certainly shouldn’t grip your hips and pull you close with such fervour, now you’re tit to tit with the man who gifted you your pornstar rack. And it’s a bit awkward to say the very least.

“Hi, dad.” He backs off, skittish when he hears your tone of voice. Flat and clipped.

“Sweetpea, I’m so glad you’re here,” Leon starts, he’s laying it on super thick, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun.” Oh, you’re exhausted already.

“Mhm.” You nod in disinterest as you toe off your shoes, place them beside his mud-caked boots. Leon is your dad. Your dad is just a guy to you. One that’s around never, you see him seldom and from afar. He’s not exactly awful, but he’s nothing great. A little touchy if anything, and enthusiastic in a way that comes across as disingenuous.

The only thing you really know about Leon is that he’s your dad, he works with the government, and he’s still hung up on your mom. You can tell from a mile away. Looks at her like she crafted the earth itself, mapped out the stars, plucked them from the sky to make him a new moon. Totally whipped for a woman who forgets he exists until major holidays roll around. And you get it honestly, your mom is pretty, fun, and she’s all you’ve got. So you might take after dad in that sense.

You’ve seen the kinda women he brings home. That time you caught him mid disgusting, nasty, abhorrent sex act that you’ve only seen in porn. Had this poor girl’s head tilted so far back, blonde curls like liquid gold running along her back, brushing the swell of her ass, his arm wrapped around her neck - like, was he trying to fucking kill her? Well, she liked it clearly. That’s beside the point, when you saw her face the following morning, her sheepish smile and the slant of her eyes - you got it. Mom. She looked like mom. You overheard him telling her she was too young for him, a college girl, his daughter’s age - only after he came down her throat though. What a creep.

Then there was his girlfriend from a few years back, this chick who popped her gum too loud, bossed him around and got him to pay for a new set of acrylics weekly. It was uncanny the resemblance between her and mom. What next? You? Is it your turn to be pursued by Leon, by dad? The only thing you’ve got from him is tits, busty like your daddy, pretty like your mommy. And he fucking knows it. You know he does.

Leon places a hand on your lower back. Like, way lower back, the spot a boyfriend would touch when he wants to initiate a quickie. You shiver, glance at him through your peripheral as he guides you to the lounge, the wooden floor is so cold you feel it through the fabric of your winter socks. This dude is loaded and he can’t even get heated floors installed? Not even for lil ol’ you? His daughter? The one that resembles his one true love?

There’s a red box that contains a gingerbread house sitting on the coffee table, you groan inwardly. Here we go with the bonding activities, it’s so forced it makes your skin crawl. His Christmas tree is, well, it’s a tree alright, crudely and hastily decorated with a sparse amount of baubles and god-awful paper crafts you gave to him as a toddler. Aw, the sentiment is there though, kinda cute. You’ll cut dad some slack.

By the time midnight rolls around, you realise cutting dad even the slightest bit of slack was a mistake. “Take that off.” You jab a finger into his stomach, met with sinewy, toughened flesh. Woah, dad’s still got it going on. “It’s ugly, and I’m not twelve, dad.”

“Moving fast.” Leon - your dad, biological, held you as a baby, rocked you to sleep at night - wiggles his eyebrows at you. All while dressed in a Santa suit by the way, ‘cause that is one very important piece of information. He looks fucking ridiculous. It’s the same one he used to pull out when you were a kid, back when you actually gave a shit about him, what he thought about you, whether he even wanted you. ‘Cause if your daddy wanted you, why was he away so often? Told mom to jingle his balls once, an unsavoury recurring memory that you’d like to forget.

“Oh, dad, that’s actually really concerning, like, I’m not gonna lie.” You frown at him so hard the wrinkles that form on your forehead become permanent. “Don’t say that to me.”

“I was messing around.” He defends, “Christ, what is up with you today? Got a stick up your ass or somethin’? Y’know, in my day, kids used to be able to take jokes.” Now he’s pouting like a toddler in a sour mood.

“That was not a joke, dad!” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but it happens and within seconds he’s sat on the couch dejected. This fucking dude. Ugh. He’s pathetic. How did he manage to bag a hottie like your mom?

“I just want you to love me, sweetheart.” Here we go again. Leon sighs hopelessly as he slumps back into the cushions, and you can’t take him seriously when he’s wearing a fucking Santa hat.

“I do love you, dad.” And you do. Honest. Really. Like, pinky promise. You love him out of obligation - he’s your dad, and you’re meant to love your dad. Doesn’t mean you like him though. In your very objective-totally-not-biased view, your dad is just a bit unlikeable. A bit of a strange one.

“Yeah?” He lightens up, “You love me?” God, it’s like he gets off on it. Oh, you’re just being mean now. You scoot closer to him, lean in for an awkward side hug.

“I do, dad. I love you.” You don’t have the courage to look at him. Leon’s arm snakes around your waist, and you know what’s coming. How much do you love me?

“How much do you love me?” Called it. Up until now it’s been a harmless question, but when you face him, gaze flitting from his eyes to his nose to his lips, the general wear and tear of his aged face - it’s different. This time you won’t be able to get away with the regular bout of flattery, wax poetry about how much you love him, how you wouldn’t want anyone else but him to be your daddy. When in reality, you’d swap out Leon for any poor sod. They wouldn’t leave you hanging so damn often.

“A lot, dad.” You turn your head to roll your eyes, getting it out of your system proves worthy, now you can plaster your mommy’s smile onto your face, the one he loves so much. “So much, you know that, don’t you?”

“Just don’t seem like it, pumpkin.” Leon gives you a sideways glance, “I’m trying… I wanna make it up to you, y’know? For how much I was away.”

“Dad, you don’t have to do that. I’m over it.” You’re not. But, you’re good at pretending you are. “I don’t need you to make it up to me.” You do. Oh, you so do. You need it to a devastating degree. “Like, I’m not a kid, I don’t want Santa, and I don’t wanna make fuckin’ gingerbread houses, or watch Home Alone-“

“What, so you’re a big girl now?” He tilts his head to the side, there’s an edge to his voice that’s hard to decipher. Don’t know if it’s good or bad.

“Well, I’m not little anymore, dad.” You gasp when he tries to take a subtle glimpse down your shirt.

“I can see that.” Leon pokes his tongue into the corner of his cheek.

“Yeah, and I saw that!” When you go to stand, his grip becomes almost crushing, wanting to hold you in place so badly. For a moment it’s scary, only for a moment, this is just dad. Just Leon. He’s harmless. As lame as he is, your dad wouldn’t hurt you.

“I didn’t do nothing, baby, c’mere, don’t be like that.” Dad pets your head, and it reminds you of your childhood bedroom. “I’m sorry, alright? I never spent Christmas with just you, and I wanted to make it good for you.”

“I know, dad, and I appreciate it, just don’t need you to get all weird about it. Like, we can just— we can just be normal about it. Don’t have to do all this shit, I just want us to be normal.” Normal, huh? Neither of you can do normal, and you’re fully aware of that. ‘Cause your dad is a freak, and you can’t exactly drain Kennedy blood all that easy. You’ll be your father’s daughter even when he’s dead. “Like, I really, I really can’t deal with this whole Santa thing, did you really expect me to like it? I’m not a baby.”

“I just thought it’d be cute.” Cute? What is cute about a grown man in a Santa costume that’s covered in a thin layer of dust, dug out from the boxes he still hasn’t managed to open ten years after the divorce? “Listen, baby, I’m sorry, alright? I’m real sorry, look at me,” Leon cups your cheek, stares into your eyes with his gentle ones, “Dad’s sorry, yeah? I’m just stupid sometimes.”

“You are,” you nod, “but, I’m sorry too.” No, you’re not. Just saying it so he doesn’t drag this on, so he doesn’t call up your mom and tell her you’re not having a good time. Then your mom will be down your throat, your dad’s missed you, and you missed him too, you should be nicer to him, he tries his best, darling! “You, like, went through all that effort, and I didn’t even say thank you, I just got mad at you— so I’m sorry, dad.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, shifts so he can bring you into his chest, cheek squished against one of his fat tits, god, why’re they so big, you swear it’s bigger than both of yours combined. “It’s alright, I know you’re growing up, and I’m sorry for treating you like a baby, it’s just, it’s hard ‘cause you’re my little girl, y’know?” Not true. You’ve always been a mommy’s girl. Dad is an acquaintance.

“Yes, I know, dad.” You blink at him, he melts, traces your cheekbone with his thumb. Thank god he took that dumbass hat off, you couldn’t take him seriously.

“Gosh, baby, you look just like your mama.”

“I know, dad.”

“Crazy, ain’t it?” Leon kisses your forehead, “Only got these from me, and nothin’ else, huh?” Dad gropes your tits. The man that put a baby in your mother, that baby being you, obviously, the man whose name is on your birth certificate— the man who has given you his name, is groping your tits. “Certainly not from mommy are they?”

You shake your head. In agreement though. ‘Cause you can’t deny it, your mom’s as flat as a board. It feels weird, yes. But not bad. Maybe you’ve detached Leon from the title of ‘dad’ to the point where it doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s wrong, so you go to stop him, but he’s unyielding in his perversion.

“You look like your mommy down here, baby?” Dad asks, he cups your pussy through your jeans with his big hand. “Can daddy see?”

You shake your head again. Slowly. This time a flimsy no, one that teeters on the boundaries of a yes. You do owe him, you’ve been acting like a bitch ever since you arrived in D.C. Making a right fuss the moment you stepped through the door. Poor guy put the rather intricate gingerbread house all together by himself, he’s dressed as fucking Santa, all ‘cause he thought you’d like it. How bad can it be? Not like fucking your dad could land the two of you in jail, right? Well, it could, but that’s not the point.

“No? C’mon, sweet girl, dad just wants to see,” Leon’s plump bottom lip juts out, you kinda sit there for a minute, then lay back on the couch. What have you got to lose? You have no emotional attachment to this man. You do. It’s not weird at all. God, it’s so weird you want to claw your skin off. “That’s a good girl.” He butters you up while he unbuttons your jeans, taps your hips so you lift ‘em up and off they pop, jeans thrown to the ground. “Oh, look at her, baby, how sweet, just like mama,” Leon rests your left leg on his shoulder, holds the ankle of your right one to spread you open. “You think she likes it like mommy did?”

“How did… How did mom like it, dad— daddy?” You correct yourself, feel this horrible churning in your stomach. Both nausea and need flooding your shaky body.

Leon presses his wide nose to the bump of your clit through your tight panties, there’s a wet patch that seems to get bigger and bigger the more he sniffs around down there. He lifts his head, rests it on your thigh as he slides them to the side, sticky, gooey arousal stringing apart, sticking to the seat of your undies like PVA glue when he separates the fabric from your soaked centre. “She liked it real sloppy, baby.” With that, he spits on your drippy cunt, runs his finger through your folds, pinches your clit. “Daddy’s gonna give it to you just how mom liked it, alright?”

“Okay, dad,” you tell him breathlessly, hands clasped together as you try to calm your nerves. The warmth of his breath on your puffy clit is enough to make you shiver, he spreads you open with his index and middle fingers, the tip of his tongue traces along the centrefold of your cunt. Then Leon grows agitated by the way your panties insist on snapping back in place, so he has a little wrestle with them and your limp legs, once they’re off he tucks them into his pocket for safekeeping. Santa’s back pocket.

Sweetly, he kisses your clit, sucks on it like he’s getting to the centre of your cunt, blows a raspberry on it - you’re so wet it’s pooling beneath your ass. Leon spreads your cheeks to lick into your cunt, press his nose into it real nice ‘n deep, smacks his lips against your fat pussy, stubble smeared with your slick. Leaking all over your dad’s pretty face, letting your dad tug your clit between his teeth and fuck his tongue into your tight hole. “Should stop shaving.” Is all dad says once you cream on his face, “Your mama didn’t.” Okay, didn’t need to know that, but here you are, dad’s fat cock hard and heavy against your thigh. So you guess fucking him comes at that expense - finding out all sorts of details about their wild sex life. To be honest, you pegged Leon as the kinda guy who knows what missionary is and missionary only, not that you ever thought about that before. He unbuckles his belt, unthreads the prongs from the holes one by one, and drops his red Santa pants. Good riddance.

“Dad,” you whimper when he sits you up, handles you like a dolly. The tight-fitted Santa coat stretches around his biceps when he scoops you up, puts you on his lap, gosh, you’ve never really noticed those. Maybe that’s what your mom saw in him. Big blue eyes and big tits and big fucking arms. This Santa attire is really fucking you up, it’s hard to take him seriously.

“Your mommy’s real good at riding cock, y’know that, pumpkin?” Leon squeezes your ass, you feel him. All of him. His clothed cock grinding upwards into your bare cunt, a toothy grin stretching his lips as he watches the way your lips squish together. Yeah, fat pussy, so what. Get over it, creep. “Best I ever had she was, best fuckin’ pussy,” he licks up the sweat dripping down your collarbones, “but you’re made for me, ain’t you, baby?”

“Yes, dad.” You don’t know what else to say, breath stuttering when he sits you down on his cock. Thick and fairly long in all the ways a dick should be, you suppose. Look at that, giving a review of your dad’s cock. How far you have come. Fucking degenerate cock critic. It sure does feel good, his tip nestled snug against your cervix, pulsing within the silky walls of your tight cunt. Feel every vein, how his tip leaks pre endlessly, how it twitches when you clench around him.

“Baby, you’re such a big girl now,” Dad kisses you smack-bang in the middle. On your pouty lips. The ones that remind him of your mom, same lips that sucked his cock in the marriage bed, same eyes rolling back into your skull when he begins to rock his hips into you. “Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you? Better than mommy.” Almost, he wants to add. You know he does. He’s so predictable.

There are no words in your brain, only able to let out shaky breaths and the occasional yelp as he takes you, grabs your hips and bounces you up and down on his cock. “Fuck, wait, let me— let me-“ he doesn’t finish his sentence, instead he’s sliding you off and bending you over the couch. “Better like this.” That’s ’cause you look like mom from behind. Same hair, same hips, same perky ass. Leon fucks you harder, his strokes deeper, knocking his cock into your poor cervix with his brutal thrusts. Your nails scratch at the cracked leather of his couch, unable to help the way you moan for him, it’s so embarrassing, even more so when your hips begin to move on their own, fucking yourself back on dad’s dick.

Each thrust is harder than the last, god, is he trying to go through you? Put you in A&E ‘cause his cock got tangled in your intensities? “Is this… Is this how mom likes it, dad?” You manage to get out through a stifled groan, he digs his teeth into your neck, licks a stripe over the tender skin then tugs at your hoop earring with his teeth.

“Your mom likes it even harder, baby,” Leon snickers, “your mama is a dirty bitch.” You gasp, tighten around him involuntarily, your pussy behaves in mysterious ways. “She liked it when I did this,” his hand comes down on your ass hard, you squeal, almost lose footing and fall face-first into the couch cushions. “And when I pulled her hair, and slapped her tits, and spit down her fuckin’ throat.” Your mom is one nasty bitch, good on her. Personally, you’re new to it all. “You want that?”

“I don’t know, dad.” You say helplessly, thighs trembling when he reaches round with his nimble fingers to rub neat circles into your bud, so you come undone around his cock. Coat the shaft in cream, drip slick down his balls. You muffle your moans into a pillow, painted toes curling against the wooden floor, suddenly thankful for his lack of underfloor heating - ‘cause you’re sweating like a pig.

Your body trembles with aftershocks as he continues to fuck you through it, helps his little girl out by kissing the wet nape of her neck, a big hand on her waist to steady her. Sweat prickles your skin, jolting as he gives one last sloppy push into you, hips jerking as he unloads all he’s got to give and you milk him just right. ‘Cause you know, you’re his kid, made for him. That’s why he fits like a glove. Born to get your cunt bred by dad. You think he says your mom’s name into your hair, but you don’t question it, slumping over in exhaustion.

“Dad, can you just do me a favour and take that off, please? I’m really tired and it’s pissing me off.” You curl up on the sofa, uncaring of the seed that drips out and trickles down your plush thighs.. Leather’s easy to clean.

“Why? I like it. Don’t you think it’s cute, sweetpea?” Normalcy or what the two of you consider normal returns.

“No, take it off, or I’m taking the next flight home.”

“Alright, pumpkin.”

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n chapter seven! Gosh, who would have thought that this would grow into something this big. Idk... writing this story does something to my brain.

warning: kids, mention of past trauma, wing clipping and all the horrors of Illyrian camps, vomiting, I think that's all...

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Azriel was stalling, and he knew it. For the first time in his life, the spymaster just couldn't put the needs of his court first. He tried. Mother knows he tried hard. But every time Azriel even came close to winnowing back to Velaris, he stalled. Waited. The tug pulled him back. The need to stay in the sanctuary held him in a chokehold. Something deep within him kept telling him that if he left on his own, even if it was for a couple of hours - he would not forgive himself. And the consequences - he didn't want to bear them.

"Keep your head up", Azriel articulated in his much lower voice, "Don't tuck your shoulders". One of his hands was pressed to Axel's back, making sure the arch was right. Away from the eyes that hawked between the walls, Azriel had finally ushered Axel out for morning training. The male didn't remember anyone being so happy to wake up before the morning sun. To be out in the chilly morning wind. To train. But Axel didn't even yawn once; he didn't rub his eyes. He was here, and he wasn't going to back down.

"Good job! Just like that", Azriel fueled Axel with praising words. He gave shit to Cassian when they were sparing. But while Cassian and he worked better when they were pissed at each other. The real broody fea raging. Axel was a whole different story. He ran off of Azriel's attentive care. Of him showing up. Of him seeing the boy. "Let them rest", Azriel stated his last order firmly, and Axel, with a couple of sloppy beats with his wings, seized his movements to a halt, panting breathlessly. The leather healed nicely. Way too nice for what it should have been, but that without doubt had something to do with your powers. It had to. That was another itch in Azriel's brain. A summoner? What was that supposed to mean? Sure, he had seen you wield light, heal, and slow heartbeats, but that in one big package didn't shape one solid answer.

"You're okay?", Azriel glanced down at the boy sitting on the fallen tree trunk. The biggest smile spread over Axel's face as he nodded his head. "Do you think I'll get to fly with you eventually?", the boy pointed towards the sky, Azriel's eyes following his movements. The spymaster's heart clenched at that. He hoped that would be possible. He hoped that with solid, strong back muscles and flying lessons, Axel too would bathe in the song of the wind. "We'll do everything we can to make that happen", Azriel threw a smile boy's way, something he found himself doing a lot lately. "Does your back hurt?", "A bit", the boy admitted shyly. Azriel only nodded. "That's a good sign; it means you're doing everything perfectly", and with that alone, all doubt and fear vanished from Axel's eyes. "Come, I'll carry you back", the boy didn't miss the invitation as he leaped into the warmth, snuggling into the male. Azriel held Axel with delicate care, mindful of the sore wings. He continued to run his hand over Axel's scared back. A sickly feeling still crept through him every time he came in contact with it. Azriel could endure the pain of his scars, but seeing Axel bear it as well fueled an anger that had never raged before. So Azriel pulled the boy just a little closer as he continued walking.

"What about this? It's blue", Zofie had been pulling out dresses from her closet all morning long. You had told the kids about the invitation to Velaris. Hoping that they would refuse to go. Make your own choice easy. You hoped you could hide behind their answers so you wouldn't have to make the decision yourself; just the two of them had been over the moon. Eager to go. It was as if Azriel had hung the moon for them, and now, no matter where or what he suggested, they were swooning with happiness.

"It's your favorite", you say, looking up from your seat, pealing your eyes away from the shirt Axel had placed into your hands this morning, practically begging you to fix the hem of it. "You said you'd use it for a special occasion", you continued. Because that dress was more than special. You had made it for Zofie after she had admired that she had never had one. Only clothed in scrappy cloth bags her whole young life. "It is special. We've never gone anywhere", she said firmly, looking down at the deep blue of the tule. "Do they have a big dance floor?", her eyes darted back at you, gleaming. You wanted to tell her that Velaris was like nothing she had ever seen before. She'd find much more than just a breathtaking ballroom, but you tucked that deep within yourself. "I don't know, sweetie. You'll have to ask the spymaster of the night court". The girl tilted her head to the side, "He has a name - Azriel. You know it", she sassed back at you, scrunching her forehead slightly. Because while you pulled back, they ran straight into Azriel's arms. You weren't jealous. Well, a little. You knew you weren't being replaced. You just... You wished you could find strength in yourself to trust once again.

The door to the room swung open after a little knock, and in strolled the two boys. Both still slightly sweaty and... "Oh, this is not okay!", you huffed as you watched them both standing there with their shirts off. "What's all of this about?", you rested your hands on your hips, trying to scowl. There was no doubt that you failed miserably because it was practically impossible to ignore the way Azriel's toned chest looked. Your hands had touched that... You quickly cleared your throat, leaning closer to Axel. "Real soldiers don't wear shirts when they are in the middle of an intense workout", the boy stated so casually that you quickly tilted your eyebrows up, glancing at Azriel, who looked way too mischievous for his own good. That bastard knew what he was doing. But it was the way Axel wore the scars on his back as if they were nothing that tugged at your heart. As if they didn't weigh him down. As if he didn't care if anyone else saw them, and deep down, you knew it was Azriel that you needed to thank.

It was Zofie who washed away the prolonged silence, "We're packing for Velaris", she said, lifting her hands up and showing off her dress which was still wrinkled. Azriel's hopeful eyes darted your way immediately. You two hadn't talked about his promises. About the things he had said. You had been cold toward him. You didn't want to, but his words had struck deep, making your defense walls waver. "Do they have a ballroom?", Zofie chirped, stepping closer to the male, who almost by nature had sunk to one knee so he could be more at Zofie's eye level. "Yeah, they do. I hope you'll save a dance for me", Azriel stated firmly, and Zofie nodded eagerly at his words. Giggling as the shadows swirled around her, turning her hair into a big cloud around her, lifting it from her back as she swirled with them happily.

Azriel's smile faltered. A pain like no other struck him. She was wearing Axel's shirt, no doubt, the loose material falling off the back, as she finally collapsed to the floor, screeching. Yet all Azriel saw were two deep red marks that ran all the way up to her shoulders. He didn't need to see more to know what that meant. He didn't need... Azriel stood up so quickly that his head spun. Turning abruptly, he shot out the door. Images of that night. That torturous night when he and Cas had to pull Rhys away from the lifeless bodies of his mother and sister filled his head. Now clear as a day. The torn-apart flesh in their back. The blood. The broken bones. The gashed. Azriel didn't make it far. He bent just slightly as he leaned against the wall. His breakfast coming right up. He heaved and gagged for what felt like forever. Head pressed against the cold stone as he tried to calm his breathing. Tried to shove the image of the mutilated bodies. Zofie's lifeless... That alone had Azriel hurling all over again.

"Drink", the strong smell coming from the cup was enough to let Azriel know that it was ginger brew. And the warmth of a hand on his shoulder—enough to let him know that you were here. But he was too afraid to move. Any movement threatened to make him heave again; he was convinced of it. "You look pale as a ghost drink, Azriel", you pushed the cup closer to his lips, holding onto his jaw as you tilt the mug up. Azriel manages to take a couple of sips before pushing back. "She's...", he managed to whisper. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, "Wingless? Yes". Azriel let out what seemed to be a superseded whimper, and all you could do was lower your head. You could speak of it only because you've walked with that pain for so long and yet it still clawed at you in moments like this.

"Who?", the tone seemed pure death. "Azriel...", you said in a pleading tone. This man had proven to you more than once now that he was willing to bring hell out for the kids. Yet you still denied it. "Give me a name! Tell me what camp. I will skin him alive", you swiftly moved to cup his face as you shook your head. "Do you remember what you told me about the fact that all they need is love?", you asked, looking into his deep golden orbs. "They need the same from you, Az", the darkness plunged back into its cage. Yet his breathing was still heavy. "This isn't fair", his words spilled through his gritted teeth, his hands pressing onto your hips. His way of grounding himself. "You and I both know that life is cruel", you offered him a sad smile, but he only shook his head. "But", you breathed out, knowing deep down that you needed to say this. "Azriel... She's up there right now, thinking that she has done something bad. That Axel's scars didn't scare you, but her...", and that's enough for Azriel to pull back as he turns around, only a black mist of his shadows left in his track.

And she's there in his arms when you finally make your way up. Splotchy face pressed against his shoulder. Zofie is a tiny girl as it is, but in Azriel's embrace, she almost looks microscopic. His palm covers most of her back. She has a fistful of his shirt in her tiny fists. "You're just as special", you hear Azriel muttering under his breath. Axel inches closer to you, arms wrapping around your leg as he nuzzles into you. You're convinced that the only time this man was brought to his knees was when he was pleading to stay with that female, but in his time here, he kept kneeling in front of the two of them. And it doesn't seem to bug him. It doesn't seem to clash with the cold mask he has built.

It's hard to hear their conversation, but then it's for them alone. And the bits you do hear—"I'm sorry," "You're one of the strongest girls I've met", and endless mutters of "I'll keep you safe" and "You'll never have to be afraid anymore"—are more than enough to make your eyes sting. Because you know that Azriel would not let go of her, or Axel, for that matter. They were logged into his heart. Fully. Permanently. It soothes you that Zofie doesn't understand and doesn't remember the way things had happened. Her father had taken it upon himself to carve her tiny wings out the same day she was born. A poor baby caught an infection. Leaving her slightly sickish and way smaller than she should be for her age. But she still kicked around fearlessly. Determined to not let monsters like that win. You dabbed a tear away from your cheek quickly. Letting the feeling of Axe's soft hair pull you back out.

"Can I fly?", the girl lifted her head from Azriel's shoulder, tiny palms rubbing her eyes. You sucked in a breath. She had never thought about that or asked about it. You want to cut in; try to say something. But Azriel pulled the blanket off the bed before carefully wrapping Zofie in it. "You say a word, and you'll be soaring through the clouds", Azriel says softly, and her eyes spark with anticipation. She glances your way, and you give her a tiny nod. "Then I want to fly", she whispers, and that's enough for Azriel to scoop her up as he moves towards the balcony. Her tiny hands spring out of the blanket as she wraps them around Azriel's neck, and they are airborne. Together.

You find him hours later. Everyone has long gone to bed, but you've spent way too long tossing and turning. The pull in your chest was too unbearable. So, with kisses on both of the kids' foreheads, you let your feet lead the way. And it only hits you that you're standing right in front of his door when it opens and you see his figure. Your body seizes, just like it always does when you're in front of him. Or, well, when he's shirtless.

You lift your haze and say, "I... wanted to check on you. Make sure that it's...", you topple over your words before managing to take a breath in, "Are you okay?". Azriel says nothing; he just steps to the side, a silent invitation. He's nursing a glass of whiskey. He's been off alcohol for most of his time here, so this... This had to reopen deep wounds.

"She was ecstatic. I've never seen her eyes so bright", you try to breathe in that sense of peace in him. "How is this still happening? Rhys has put out clear laws", is all he says in return. You step closer to him, reaching for a glass in his hand, and Azriel gives it up rather easily. "These males run things by their books, and you know it, Az. The sanctuary has a dedicated armed force, and there are missions. We do what we can," you state calmly, but Azriel simply shakes his head. "Come here", he mutters, his hands reaching up for you. "I don't want you going back to these camps", his words are firm as you rest your head against his chest. "You can't boss me around, remember?", you jab at his chest painfully. "Then I'll be going with you", Azriel says, as if it's so self-explanatory. You pull back slightly, shaking your head. "Start by taking us to Velraris, foreign soldier", you murmur, and that's the first time you get to see a smile paint his lips. "While you're in a silk nightgown?", he muses, and you let out a gasp, wrapping your arms around your chest. The reality that your nightgown has been the only thing separating your bodies all this time slowly seeping in, making your cheeks grow crimson. "In your dreams, shadowsinger", you purr back at him.

The next morning is filled with anticipation. Little feet running all around the place, shoving some of the forgotten pieces into the overnight bags. Throughout the breakfast, the conversation lingered around Velaris. As Azriel pulls story after story, the two younglings gasping. The list of places to visit getting longer by the minute. You were happy for them. This chance to explore something new—that child-like thrill—made even the smallest of things seem huge.

"Bacon", Zofie quickly jabbed her finger toward the plate, making Azriel let out a light chuckle. But he makes quick work of assembling the perfect bite before carefully turning the fork towards the girl's mouth. "Good?", he asked, leaning to the side slightly so he would be able to see her face. Zofie just smiled up at him, kicking her little feet happily as she chewed. She was perfectly capable of feeding herself but more than aware that she had Azriel wrapped around her little finger, meaning that one tired look was enough for the spymaster to usher her onto his lap so he could help her eat breakfast.

"You can't carry us three", Axel said as he too cut into the last bits of food on his plate. Azriel lifted a brow in a challenge, "I bet I can". The boy shook his head, "You only have two hands; there's three of us here". The shadowsinger only smirked, "Who knew you were so good at math", Axel let out a gasp before his face grew mischievous. "Will we go one by one?", Zofie asked, turning her head to look up at Azriel. And just as always, he was quick to sense the panic in her voice. The thought of having to be at some place alone while the others came around clearly made her antsy.

"No, we're all going together. I'll winnow us there", Azriel said firmly, followed by an explanation of what that meant. "Will this hurt?", Axel was quick to cut in. "No, you'll hold onto Y/n; I'll hold onto you all,", the spymaster said calmly, knowing well that the first time might feel rather unsettling when you're not so used to the sensation. "Can we get lost?", Zofie's voice was barely audible. Azriel placed a quick kiss on the crown of her head before leaning closer to her, "No", his eyes were fully focused on the little girl, "Because I won't let that happen".

The cool air nibbled at your skin first. Pinching your cheeks and painting them slightly more pink. It was way cooler here, even if the sanctuary was in the mountains. Magic had its perks. Azriel's grip around you loosened as he stepped back, the warmth of him melting away. A part of you wanted to hold onto him for a moment longer. You two still hadn't had a proper conversation about everything. Not that there was anything much to say, but you felt like letting him know that you trusted him.

"Look up at the sky, Zo", Axel practically shrieked with excitement as he softly pulled on Zofie's dress. She carefully peeled her palms away from her eyes. Even with Azriel humming through the quick journey here, her little panic took the best of her. "You can see all the construction", Azriel pointed up at the sky as he rubbed her back softly. "Rhys is a show-off like that", he muttered, mostly for you, and you couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Perseus...", Zofie motioned with her little finger, making Azriel nod, "That's right, we can find them all later on".

It took you a moment to look around. You haven't been here in... ever. The only time you had come down here was straight to Rhys's office. You haven't been out of the sanctuary since you were first brought in. Except for the camp. An uncomfortable shiver runs down your back. The place Azriel winnowed to felt pretty secluded. The buzz of the sitting seemed further away. The street was brightly lit, with dangling lights and flower beds blooming on every window sill. "This isn't the main house", you muttered. It didn't feel like it. A least, you had no clue how Rhys would fit a study so big in here. Azriel shook his head as he lowered Zofie to the ground. "I wanted you to warm up your feet in Velaris first", he said while shaking his head. "So, we're not meeting everyone tonight?", a wave of relief washed over you. Sure, you were excited and all, but... one can only take so many stimuli at once. And well, for the kids' sake, that was a perfect start. "I wanted you to meet someone first. Someone special", Azriel said softly before stepping closer to the door and knocking gently.

The kids quickly rushed to stand up tall, yet their hands were gripping the sides of their skirts. Putting on their best behavior. So eager to meet someone new. Someone they hadn't seen around the sanctuary. Someone who seemed to be a part of a whole new world. But it's not really what you expected. In all honesty, you didn't even know what you were expecting.

An elderly woman opens the door, the brightest smile on her face as she sees Azriel. Her hands instantly reach to cup his face, and he doesn't pull away. He basks in the softness of her touch for a moment before moving to kiss both of her palms. "My boy", she beames, and you're convinced your heart had stopped working. Or there's a blood vessel that popped, hence the roaring in your ears. No, Azriel brought you to his... "Mother, I want you to meet someone", the spymaster steps to the side to give his mother a clear view of the kids and you.

You wait for her smile to falter, but she only seems to smile brighter. "Oh, dear...", she holds onto Azriel's arm. "Aren't you two adorable", she opens her embrace warmly, and that's all Zofie and Axel need as they rush forward toward the woman. Big eyes observing her as she cups both of their faces. You bite the inside of your cheeks.

"Yours?", the woman says, looking up at her son. Almost a hopeful gleams there as she watches him. "Not by blood", the spymaster says, and he says it so naturally that you nearly feel your legs buck. Convinced your nails are drawing blood from the way you are squeezing your palms. "And this lady, must be the lover?", her soft eyes land on you, knocking the last air out of your lungs. You open your mouth, but Azriel beats you to it: "Not yet, but I'm working on it". The elderly woman hums softly, a knowing look on her face as she glances between the two of you, before turning her eyes back on the kids, "Why don't we head inside, loves? I'm making cinnamon rolls", and the two younglings don't even do a double take at you as they walk toe-in-toe through the arched wooden door.

You turn to Azriel. "You're insane", you whisper, your eyes already full of tears. "No, I'm just trying to make the right choice for the first time", Azriel says calmly, reaching out for you, but you back away. "Azriel, this is...", you breathe out. "Don't back away from me", hurt flashes in his eyes. "I know I made questionable choices", Azriel pleads. "But this feels fucking right... I can't explain it, YN, but it feels as if I was meant to be here, meant to...", he states, almost in slight disbelief himself, "Don't take this from me".

You watch Azriel for a heartbeat. One. Two. Before you just leap forward, crashing your lips against his. And it's way better than you could ever imagine. It's eager and hungry. Messy, but so... right. As if this was something that was meant to happen. Azriel brings you closer as he deepens the kiss. His palms moving straight to your hips, a habit of his by now. You arch into his touch, your body working on its own rhythm when it comes to Azriel. And when you finally pull apart breathlessly, with a slightly rosy cheek, you can't help but smile at him because maybe just maybe. This is your chance to have your person. Your home.

"If I accidentally winnow us to my apartment now...", Azriel muttered breathlessly, making you let out a laugh. "Don't you dare, soldier", you say, pointing your finger at him. "I won't... Just thinking about it...hard", he states through hazy eyes. You shake your head as you brush your fingers across his lips, trying to clean up the smudged marks of your lipstick. "In your dreams," you purr lightly. "Well, I've been dreaming for a while now, love", Azriel reaches to you, resting his forehead against yours before his lips find yours once more.

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Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster x reader #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

[aemonds-sapphire]

Bonding

Summary: You are excited to share the news with Aemond: you're with child. But nothing could have prepared you for his reaction…

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (wife)

Warnings: Pregnancy. Vulnerable Aemond opening up. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: I really hope you are able to fall deeper for Aemond as I have. Writing this really made me feel for him and everything he has been through.

Word count: 1.6k

Footsteps echoed across the bedroom as you patiently waited for him to return.

Inside, you were bursting with excitement, but you still had to remain calm and collected on the outside as servants were kept busy with their daily chores and entered the room freely.

Prince Aemond’s long awaited arrival was announced by the unmistakable groundshaking roar coming from Vhagar that tore throughout King’s Landing.

You rushed to the window in the hopes of spotting the young prince the mighty dragon, and when she came into your field of vision you could barely contain your emotions.

The old dragon glided across the sky in a gentle descent, heading towards the dragonpit. Now, Vhagar was far too enormous to be kept there, so it would just be a brief stop to drop off her rider.

Aemond sat upright with such elegance that you were certain he fully embodied the glory and might of the house of the dragon.

Nervousness started to grip your heart as you asked the servants to exit the room.

As minutes ticked by, you felt an impending nausea wash over you.

You couldn't be sick. Not now.

The bedroom door swung open and young Prince Aemond walked in, and removed his cloak off to reveal his handsome features.

"Lord husband," you greeted in a forced neutral tone and with a proper bow, lacing your hands in front of you.

Seeing your sudden serious pose had him curl his lips in his traditional smile as he adjusted his unruly silver hair.

"Lady wife," he bowed and the two of you just stood there in silence for a brief moment.

You were the first to crack the mask with a soft grin, rushing to his embrace.

Manners and formalities had no place when the two of you were alone, so you'd occasionally mock the lords and ladies of the court, which never failed to draw a smile from Aemond.

He enveloped you with his arms and pulled you into a sweet and tender kiss. You'd missed his warmth and how he had the ability to make it feel like you were his entire world.

Softness gave way to an increasing roughness as he deepened the kiss, cupping your face with one hand as the other gripped your waist.

Passionate as ever, Aemond had you melting into his touch, pressing his lower half to yours and letting you know of his intentions.

Oh.

You broke the kiss. "Well, someone's excited," you chuckled, looking down to the growing bulge in his dark pants.

"Dragon riding always sharpens my appetite," Aemond grinned mischievously, toying with the lace that carefully held your robes over your heaving breasts.

As much as you'd love to give into the temptation, you had to brush that aside, putting a halt to his prying fingers.

"I have something to tell you."

The young prince arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

You took his hand and placed it on your stomach, waiting for the implication to hit him.

"Are you hurt?" Aemond suddenly said as his voice had a hint of concern.

Men.

"No. I'm with child," you said, caressing the fingers on your belly. "Our child."

His face visibly dropped and he dropped his hand to his side.

"How?"

You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the absurdity of his question. "You really want to me to remind you of how this happened?"

He shook his head. "No, of course... I mean… are you certain?"

Apprehension took a hold of you, and slowly but surely your hands started shaking lightly.

Was he not happy? Did he not want a child?

Casting your worries aside, you cleared your throat. "Grand Maester Mellos has confirmed it. I haven't bled in two moon cycles."

Aemond remained silent as if still processing everything you'd just told him.

You searched for his hands and entwined your fingers with his. "What is it? You do not seem pleased..."

"What if I'm not fit to be a father?"

Those words took you aback momentarily. "Nonsense. Why do you think that?"

He was visibly uncomfortable as you felt the grip on your fingers increasing.

"I didn't grow up knowing what that feels like."

King Viserys had seldom been a father to his son. Even long before he had managed to bond with Vhagar. Every sense of loyalty and tenderness he had was taught by his mother. But the scars of neglect ran deep within his core, and you couldn't really blame his mind for conjuring up all these fears.

"You will be an exceptional father, I’m sure.”

He looked away, definitely avoiding your gaze. “And if our child grows to resent me like I resentsed my father..."

The damage Aemond Targaryen had been been subjected to had a firm grip on his emotional balance, and that much was crystal clear to you now. He kept coming up with daunting scenarios of how this would not go well, instead of embracing this as an opportunity for him to prove his worth by showing everyone that he was not his father.

You brought one hand to his face, silently pleading that he'd look at you.

"Do not worry about this, Aemond. You having these doubts shows me you're already a better father than he could ever be."

His uncovered eye landed on you, embracing your touch, but not your words.

“Our child could never resent you.”

"You do not know that."

"I do not," you nodded, caressing his cheek, keeping your eyes firmly on his. "But I do know you, and you are nothing like your father."

The young prince still didn't seem convinced in the slightest.

"Aemond... you will be an exceptional father." It was getting harder to maintain your voice calm as the gut-wrenching realisation hit you.

He had never once expressed wanting a child, and now you understood why. You didn't think much of it back then, because it was something to be expected in a marriage.

You'd wrongly assumed the hurt from his past wouldn't have such a hold on him, throwing him into this loop of never-ending worries.

"What if our child is unable to..." he paused abruptly and your heart clenched in anticipation as his eye was now set on your enlaced hands. "... to claim a dragon."

"Oh, Aemond," you whispered as an uncontrollable wave of concern washed over you. "Aemond..."

You weren't sure your words would bring any comfort to him, but it was the best you had to offer.

Unlacing your hands from his, you brought them to frame his face. "Look at me, Aemond."

When his eye met yours, you caressed his cheeks lovingly. Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead and even his breathing had become erratic.

It was as if the proud and elegant Targaryen prince had been replaced with someone else. You had heard the stories of how Aemond was once ridiculed for being unable to bond with a dragon, in spite of his best efforts.

"Do not pity me, my lady," he broke the silence. "Great warriors aren't born, they are made."

Always so eloquent, but it surely seemed like he was merely trying to convince himself of that.

You nodded. "Exactly. You faced that obstacle and you overcame it. You will be there for our child, and that is all that matters."

Aemond flinched away from your touch. "And if you're not?"

"What do you mean?"

"My father's first wife died during childbirth," his voice was strained. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Aemond... you will not lose me," you weren't sure whether you were comforting him or yourself at this point. "Maester Mellos is quite capable and he has already provided me with some teas to boost my health."

Both his hands were now on yours as he leaned to rest his forward on yours.

"I cannot lose you." His voice was but a whisper.

"You will not," you said once more, closing both eyes and simply enjoying the unexpected display of adoration.

He heaved a deep sigh before pushing you into a tight embrace. "Avy jorrāelan."

Your eyes flew open and you felt your heart soar in delight. He had never uttered those words before. Not even on the day you were promised to each other for eternity.

If you were going to go on this new journey of having a child, you couldn't feel safer knowing it'd be by his side.

"Avy... jorāelan..." your High Varylian was rudementary at best, but that didn't stop you from trying.

You felt a low chuckle rumble across his chest. "Very good, lady wife."

"Do not mock me," your eyes looked up to meet him with a dramatic pout on your face.

A genuine smile tugged at his lips. "I wouldn't dream of doing so."

He then dropped to one knee, gripping your waist tenderly with both hands.

Nothing could have prepared you for witnessing Aemond Targaryen lovingly planting a kiss to your covered belly. Your tangled your fingers along his hair, completely and utterly in love with how vulnerable he looked, but also so willling to embrace change.

You watched as he pressed his cheek where his lips had just been, and whispered something in High Valyrian you couldn’t decipher. But maybe it wasn’t meant for you to.

This was just between them.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd imagine

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: “she’s a bastard—‘innit the truth, mother?”

warnings: explicit language. angst. much angst. nothing but angst. i cannot stress it enough.

notes: well this is rather unfortunate.

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

The raven arrives at nightfall, at an hour so late that only Aemond is awake to accept it. The princeling could not find sleep that night, instead rolling off the bed and crossing the chambers to his windows, before pulling back the heavy tapestries and throwing them open one by one.

The cool air is a welcoming feeling to his feverish skin, hot to the touch from hours of lovemaking under the sheets.

He stands facing the darkness, naked and at utter peace, in pure happiness. His precious girl sleeps soundly behind him, with the thick furs pulled up to her chin, hiding the most of her beneath the blankets. She is so utterly beautiful in the moonlight. It’s been three long months since his sons were born, and Aemond was beginning to hope his seed would again take. His loins ache at the thought, and he fights the sudden urge to slip in between her thighs. Perhaps she’d give him a daughter this time.

In his dreams, she wears her mother’s face, in a gown of Targaryen colors with a dragon hatchling sitting on her shoulder. She pokes him awake in the morning, and pleads for a quick ride atop Vhagar before grandmother arrives to begin her history lessons.

His daughter has his love’s eyes and smile, he thinks again, and her nose scrunches up in the same way hers does.  

I want it.

He shakes his head.

Let her rest, you fool.

When the black raven arrives at his windowpane, he is a bit confused. He waves the bird away before it could make another squawk, and stares down at the scroll taken from it, eying the blood-red ribbon tied into a pretty, tight knot around. In his head, he weighs the choices in taking it as his own. Should he…? Or should he not? His curiosity clashes with his righteousness.

Aemond decides to, in the end.

He takes the scroll to his desk, quietly lighting a small candle before taking a seat and unrolling it out to read. The writing is in pretty cursive yet smells of cheap ink, with a slight smudge staining the edge of the paper. It is addressed to his handmaid, he realizes, starting with her name that leads to a sweet congratulations on her newfound motherhood. Twins, your uncle had said. How marvelous to hear. I hope to meet them soon, my dear.

With all the love in this lifetime—your mother, Alys Rivers.

“With all the love in this lifetime,” he repeats aloud, shaking his head, refusing to believe. His fingers tighten around the letter, the tips turning a jarring white. “Your mother, Alys Rivers.”

Aemond then glares up at the woman lying in his bed, a bitter twist on his mouth. She shifts a little bit beneath his gaze, but remains relaxed and asleep and blissfully ignorant of the rising anger sparking deep inside him.

Who is she? For the first time since he met her, he asks himself that.

He should’ve suspected this.

“A bastard, Lord Beesbury, mothered by the daughter of a milk cow.”  

Aemond turns away from her, back to the darkness outside.

Her mother is a bastard rivers woman, it seems. At least that is how it reads. Alys Rivers. She carries no man’s last name in her letter. What is her daughter, if not the same as her? He picks at his mind, trying to remember if she ever mentioned her father. Aemond returns to staring up at the moon and the white stars blinking high above in the midnight sky.

He suddenly feels no desire to return to bed with her tonight.

But she is the mother of your children, his mind argues, and it leaves him irritated.

She’s given him two heirs, his first-born children, beautiful twin boys that are mirrors to their own father, himself. And the daughter he’s dreamt of…But…they’re bastards too, he then reminds himself. You love them the same way you love her, do not lie to yourself. It was not enough to ease his thoughts, and reason with him, and stop the ugly bitterness from rising in his throat.

Damn her.

Aemond stuffs the letter inside one of the desk drawers, not wishing to lay eyes on it again. Maybe he’ll burn it later in the day. He then shrugs on his robe, tying it around his waist, before leaving the room. She’ll wake up in the morning, and search for his hand buried within the sheets. When she realizes she is alone in the bed, he knows she will pout before readying to tend to her babies, like the mother he’s made her into.

Damn her.

Then she will move on to her responsibilities, like the silly, dumb handmaid she is.

Damn her.

That is all she should’ve remained, Aemond thinks, curiously calm as he strides down the hallway. He doesn’t know where he is going, but he knows he will not return this night. Bastards never amount to anything else.  

Aemond hasn’t spoken to her in three days, dismissing his handmaid from his bedchamber before he retires for the evening. She no longer fetches his hot baths or crawls beneath the blankets with him. He hasn’t allowed it. He avoids the nursey too, where he knows his twin sons sleep in their cots, too young to notice their father’s absence. Aemond walks the halls of the Red Keep, as he has walked a thousand times before, but disregards all the rooms where he knows her presence painfully lingers.

She does not fight nor question him. He knows she won’t.

“Aemond.”

He hears her voice in his slumber, always- sometimes in a breathless whisper, and most times in a scream, or a whimper, or an anguished howl. She always manages to find him, following him into his dreams and nightmares and antagonizing him into insanity. Her shadow stands over his bed. And around her neck dangles the sapphire necklace, while her pretty eyes weep both tears and blood.

“Aemond, please!” she cries, bawling up the sides of her dress in her fist. The plain cloth is stained in dried blood, splashed across her belly and thighs. “Aemond, please, I need you, husband!”

“AEMOND.”

This time tonight, it causes Aemond Targaryen to jerk upright, pulled from a horrible nightmare that still clouds his thoughts. The sheets are tangled between his fingers, and his heart is heaving heavily within his breast. He hears her voice echoing, begging for her husband. “Aemond.” His attention quickly darts to the door, where his mother stands, tall and regal and noticeably pissed. She calls his name again loudly. Although still groggy, he stumbles his way towards her.  

His mother does not greet him. Instead, her brown eyes remain on his empty bed, skimming across the sheets and the way the heavy fur blanket nearly hangs off the foot of his bed. He must’ve kicked it off him during his sleep.

She frowns at the sight, before looking back at him.

“So it is true, then.”

Aemond rubs at his eye, tilting his head in confusion. “What is true, mother?”

“That she hasn’t been seen in your room for the past three days; instead, she’s returned to her old room across the castle, where the other maids sleep. Three days, and three nights.” His mother spoke in anger, yet her face remained a mask that betrayed nothing. It is one thing he greatly admired about her, in the same way it terrified him the most. “And you haven’t visited your sons as well, I’m told.”

He flushes. “I’ve been busy,” he grumbles, shifting on his bare feet. “I’ll see them tomorrow, in the morning after we break fast together.”

“Tomorrow? You’ll see them tomorrow? AEMOND!” she shouts, incredulous. Her hair hangs loosely around her face, and she pushes a thick strand behind her right ear. “You wanted these babies so badly, and yet you are beginning to neglect them before their second nameday. Have you lost all fucking sense?!”

Aemond bites his tongue in an attempt to keep his own temper from flaring up in response to her yelling. He says nothing in return, which he knows only upsets his mother further.

“What has happened, Aemond?” she asks. “This is unlike you. You love those boys, and that girl too.”

“Nothing,” he says, a bit too quickly. “Nothing has happened. I’ve simply been too busy to play anymore games with her.”

“Games? Games?! That is all shit,” his mother blazes. “Utter shit. Do not begin to take me as a fucking fool, Aemond. I am not your father, and I am not your brother, and eldest sister either. Now you tell me, boy, what has happened.”

Aemond sighs. “She’s a bastard—‘innit the truth, mother?” He meets her eyes and feels his poor heart sinking at the silent shock that instantly falls across her features and the way she makes no move to deny it. “A bastard.” Saying it aloud, it makes him wish to return to his bed, and curl up in his sheets, completely hidden from this cruel world that damned him to fall in love with a stupid bastard girl. “A damn, no good, bastard girl from Harrehnal—”

But he is then cut off by a sharp backhand blow to the side of his face that quickly sends him stumbling two steps back, almost falling hard against the wall. Aemond holds his cheek, breath hitching as he brushes a tender finger against the already reddening skin that he knows will surely show a dark bruise on the morrow. It feels hot, and it stings. He looks up at his mother, who has never hit him before.

“How dare you speak of her in such a way,” she spits, purpled with rage. Her hand twitches at her side, as if she itches to slap him again. He deserves it, he thinks. “HOW DARE YOU. She is the mother of your children, and you dare behold her with such loathing venom?”

“AND YOU DID NOT THINK TO TELL ME BEFOREHAND?” he shouts back, half hurt from the realization that she watched him fall smitten with the bastard, and never thought to tell him the truth. “She is the cousin of those bastards that took my eye, their own blood!”

“And? It is the truth, yes, that she is a riverlands bastard, born to a woman at Harrenhal. Lord Larys is her true uncle, who brought her to us at my request. But damn you, Aemond, that girl is so fucking in love with you.”

All his words fall stuck in his throat, and he fails to push them out.

“Have you nothing more to say?”

His queen mother sniffs when he says nothing, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. Perhaps it is best she drinks the moon tea, lest she gives you another child that you won’t love nor appreciate because of its mother’s unfortunate bastardy.” Aemond remains silent, and her mouth drops into another scowl. “You lied to me when you promised that you would never be your father or Aegon.”

I am not, he wants to scream out. His knees buckle in weakness at her cruel words, and the sheer disappointment laced within them. It hurts worse than her slap.

I love her so much, I swear, and my boys too. I love anything she gives me, and I promise…I promise…I promise…

“You, Aemond, carry their eyes and hair and nose, everyone can see. But I know the truth now—you carry their pig attitude as well,” she remarks, pushing herself toward him. “I’ll send her back to her mother, I promise, and find another handmaid for you, one that is to your liking.”  

She says not another word, instead turning to the houseguard that had accompanied her to his hall. “I’m tired. Please help me back to my bedchamber,” she asks, pressing her fingertips against his temple. “I would appreciate such, my good knight.”

His mother leaves him silent and still, sad and scared and helpless and heartbroken, staring down at his toes as they grow damp from his tears.

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess @okfashionista @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @mochimommy2002 @fangirlninja67 @iiamthehybrid @bellstwd @katzarantos @crazymusicgirl104

taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #handmaid!reader #his handmaid’s tales #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

[luveline]

what abt a kbd thing where like all the girls either can’t sleep and one by one they all end up all cuddled in w mom & steve

tysm! ♡ kisses before dinner au. mom!reader, 1.3k

"You haven't aged." 

Steve's smile is smarmy across the pillow from you. "That's because you see me everyday." 

"I'm serious. Apart from like, two little wrinkles in your forehead, you look exactly the same as you did when we first started dating." 

"I know it feels like a long time, but that was only eight years ago." 

"Almost nine," you whisper. 

Steve kisses you gently. "Almost nine," he repeats against your lips. "Are you sick of me yet?" 

"No," you answer truthfully. "Not even close." 

Steve's hand takes your cheek, his thumb quick to rub the path you like over the skin just below your eye. It makes you feel so pretty to be looked at, to be held by him, and so special to be treated like you're made of glass. 

Baby sleeps in the crib in the corner of your room. She's no longer brand new and, as you knew she would, she's gotten used to all the bumps and bangs of a busy house. She sleeps almost always through the night now, eight pm to five or six in the morning. The hardest part of having a young baby is over, and you and Steve are learning to be normal humans again. 

You put the girls to bed at seven, and at eight thirty, you can hear them still awake. All of them. None of your girls are subtle, but you try not to punish them, because they've all done well with the new baby's constant crying. 

"Who do you think will come and see us first?" Steve asks you, stroking your cheek.

You attempt to answer him through his dotting of kisses, half moons pressed lovingly to your nose, your eyebrow, your temple. Thoroughly loved up, you curl your arms around him to hide. 

"Don't know," you murmur, sighing a breath of contentment as Steve hugs you close. "Probably Beth." 

"Definitely Beth. I love when you hug me like this, you're like…" He pulls you ever closer, hands massaging up your back. "You're very huggable." 

"Not very nice to say, I just had your fourth baby, you know? You could give me a minute." 

Steve laughs warmly against your forehead, kiss-kiss-kissing the same spot he always does, your little pale scar from a rogue screwdriver. You'd been constructing Avery's toddler bed, and you swore you could do it alone while he got some sleep, but you almost blinded yourself and Avery slept in bed with you for a couple more weeks. The scar is permanent but nearly invisible. Anyone else would forget you had it. 

"I'm not telling you you're beautiful again today. Everyone was jealous and my dinner went cold." 

"No one else is here," you say. 

"Not true. The baby's here, she might hear me subliminally. That would be worse." 

A little knock rings against the door. You and Steve laugh against the other before peeling apart. Steve sits up in bed and you rest your face against his hip, pleased when he covers your arm with a big hand. 

"Come in, please," he says. 

Bethie slips in through a small gap in the doorway, closing it behind herself. Her hair is out of her face for the night, her pyjamas a bright sky blue with white polka dots. She's hip height now, surprisingly tall —you hadn't been expecting her to shoot up like Avery, nor for her chubby cheeks to disappear, but that's the horror and joy of having them grow up. 

"Hi, honey. What's the matter?" Steve asks. 

"Can I come and lie down too? I can't sleep."

There's no real reason to say no. You don't have to confer. You slide your legs away from Steve as he pulls back the blanket, beckoning her forward to fill the gap. 

She must think getting to hangout with you guys after bedtime is naughty and exciting, giggling as she runs across the room and climbs up onto your bed. You make a big, "Oof," as she drops into your chest but you're happy to have her, kissing you're not so mini me on the cheek. 

"You smell nice," you say, sniffing her hair. "Mmm, yummy coconut." 

"You smell nice too, mom. Like the green dish soap." 

"'Cos dad made me do all the dishes." 

Steve pinches the top of your ear and gives it a short tug. "It's good for you. Character building." 

"You're lucky my Beth is here," you grumble, your fingertips tracing up and down her back.

"Hello?"  

Your heads turn to the door where Dove pushes it open. She doesn't ask like Beth once she sees you all, just sprints to the side where Steve sits and pats his legs. He grabs her to plaster her in kisses. She plasters him right back. 

Your mommy's girl is on the turn. You can't blame her. 

"You have to get Avery," you say, patting Steve's thigh. 

She had a wobble a few months ago worrying she wasn't anyone's favourite kid. You've never seen Steve cry like, ashamed of himself for failing as a father. You haven't failed anything, you'd said, rubbing his arm, we just have to do better. 

Steve takes Dove with him on his chest. You can't understand how he carries them around all day, he must have built up some dad muscle. 

He's your everything. Well, second to the kids. It's a different kind of love but unfailing, always. You watch him leave and can't wait for him to come back, like a string pulled taut; you're relaxed when he's near. 

"Let's move over," you say, shuffling to your cold side of the bed. You'd been encroaching on Steve's space during snuggles. 

Beth puts her arm over your soft tummy and her face on your shoulder. "Can I sleep here?" she asks. 

Sharing the bed with your kids is a wriggling, boiling mess, but you have a queen size for a reason. "Yeah, gorgeous. You can sleep right here." 

Avery is wide awake when she appears, her Teddy bear in hand, her pyjamas an old t-shirt and the new plaid pants you had to buy when you realised she'd outgrown virtually every pair of pyjamas she owned. "I'm happy you missed me, I can't sleep," she says, climbing into bed to squish down next to Beth. "You have glitter on your cheek." 

"Where?" Beth asks. 

Avery scratches the glitter away carefully, tongue poking out of her lips in concentration. She may as well be Steve's twin when she makes that expression. 

Steve has hiked Dove higher now, her arms over one shoulder, his hand patting a mindless rhythm into the pink fabric of her nightie. He checks on the baby quickly before plopping Dove down on Avery's right. "Ready, girls?" he asks. 

You all nod. Steve takes the end of the comforter into his hands and shakes it out high, letting the top drift down onto you. Then he comes to your side and tucks it against your waist and legs. He kisses you, Bethie's cheek, and Avery's nose. 

Dove is furious by the time he makes it back. "Don't show off, babe, you get the best one." He scoops her up, flops down, and has her laying on his chest. You see him take Avery's hand under the blankets. "So, girls. What's first? Truth or dare or gossip? 'Cos Denise the checkout girl told me something really interesting about Debrah this morning and I've been trying to get you all in the same place." 

You smile into Beth's hair. Dove decides for you, "Who's Debrah?" 

"I'm glad you asked!" 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[bratbby333]

even if it hurts

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ angst, kinda toxic, college au, 21+ warnings: language, alcohol consumption summary: unrequited love word count: 3.2k

“I just don’t understand what she sees in that guy,” Megumi thinks to himself. He watches you as you exit the library from his vantage point, seated by the window. You walk toward your boyfriend, who’s leaning up against his car. Megumi’s chest gets tighter the longer he watches you, wincing as your boyfriend pulls you in close, your lips connecting with his for way longer than Megumi can handle. 

“It should be me,” he sighs within, eventually turning away from the window, bringing his attention back to Yuuji and Kugisaki, the two of them oblivious to his mental anguish. But, of course they are, and so are you, his unchanging, neutral facial expression never giving away his true, tortured feelings. 

Then again, Megumi doesn’t know what you’d see in him, either. He knows everything about you; the good, the bad and the ugly, caring deeply for your well-being and happiness, but that doesn’t outweigh the negatives that come along with him. His lack of empathy, his overly analytical nature, his disdain for small talk, the permanent frown on his face. He hopes one day you take a chance after all these years and accept him in the same way he already accepts you; flawed, but so beautiful. 

“Aren’t they just so cute together,” Kugisaki gushes out, before looking to her friends for input. Yuuji smiles wide, nodding in agreement.

“They seem very happy together. I’m glad she’s finally found someone.” Yuuji adds, before looking back at his notes. Megumi glances outside again, observing that you’re now seated in the passenger seat. He stays quiet, which isn’t unusual for him. Neither of his friends bat an eye at his lack of commentary, chalking it up to Megumi being typical Megumi. He wishes he could rejoice on your behalf, to congratulate you on your new found romance without stifling a gag. Even if he could fake his way through it, his words would be coated in jealousy. Instead, he continues to retreat within. You’d see right through his bleak attempts to be supportive, anyway. So he packs his feelings up in a box, stowing them away on a forgotten shelf deep in the darkest corners of his mind.

Within his tormented psyche, Megumi is anything but his normal self. Looking down at his textbook again, he can’t comprehend a single thing in front of him. He stares longingly into the book, willing himself to read, but his mind can’t help but always find its way back to you. One of his best friends. Your cheery disposition contradicts his cold, closed-off demeanor. The way your perfume lingers on his shirt after a friendly hug, how your body feels pressing against his. The way your lips curl before you laugh, how you wrinkle your nose after someone tells a joke, or the soft smiles you always send his way. How your eyes gleam with excitement when you see him (well, not just him, but your friends, collectively). You’re everything he isn’t, and everything he wishes he was. You make his normally frigid skin run warm, feverish even.

He knows it will never be you and him. Like the sun and moon; coexisting, but never coming together, a constant, cruel cycle. You two meet briefly in the same sky, before you disappear under the horizon and his world goes dark. That part doesn’t hurt nearly as much as what the actual outcome is: You will always be in his life, just out of reach; so close yet so infuriatingly far. He will always be an outsider looking in; a friend. It’s a tortuous realization. But the moon cannot glow without the sun. So he wills himself to stay put. To watch you fall in and out of love, over and over again; listening to you rave or rant about your relationship, he inevitably being a voice of reason for you when you need advice, even if it burns his throat when his supportive words leave his mouth; and it will never be him. And he accepts that as the painful reality he’s condemned to live in. Purgatory. It would hurt much less if he wasn’t as close to you; if you were just a friend of a friend, or even strangers; an unknown face, a passing daydream. Someone easier to lose. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You press your hands against the metal bar of the library doors, sighing as you push against them. The setting sun dances across your hair, the warmth kissing your skin. You smile softly at your boyfriend, who always insists on picking you up after class. He pulls you into him, his lips meeting yours. Pulling away, you smile up at him before taking a step back, allowing him to open up the passenger side door for you. You turn your head back toward the library before getting in, looking through the window at the table you were just sitting at with your three best friends. Your eyes linger on Megumi, whose attention is back on his textbook. 

“I wish he was you, Meg.” You think to yourself, looking at the ground before sitting in the passenger seat. You’re quiet on the drive back to your boyfriend's apartment, thoughts utterly consumed by Megumi. But you know it will never be him. You’re too talkative, too excitable. Too different from him. With the two of you being such close friends, by the time you realized how your heart ached for him, it was too late. You don’t want to ruin what you have. You can’t confess. That would make the dynamic shift towards awkwardness and tension, possibly even destroying the friendships you cherish so deeply. So you stay quiet. You date other people in hopes that someone can replace him. But your attempts are all in vain. No one can replace Megumi. He knows everything about you, appreciates you for everything you are and accepts you for everything you’re not. But you know the deeper connection that you desire will never be reciprocated. He does all these things for me because we’re best friends, you rationalize.

You reconcile with the silver lining of it all; enjoying the time you’re able to spend with him, relishing in the jokes between you two, cherishing the glances you steal when you know he's not paying attention. You ignore the gnawing deep within you, the hunger for more. You cling to the way his smooth voice delivers eloquently thought out sentences to your yearning ears, the way your heart leaps when his deep blue eyes gaze attentively into yours. At least you can hold on to the notion that he will always be in your life, at the very least, as a friend.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You can’t settle for meaningless connections. You’ve decided that you’ll take Megumi however you can get him, the cards dealt to you leaning in favor of just being friends. And that’s okay. You’ll hold on to the hope that one day he’ll take the risk. Such a selfish desire, you acknowledge that. You refuse to fight these feelings any longer, the stark realization that it will never not be him coming to fruition on that fateful car ride, which is why you’re at your boyfriend’s house, sitting across from him, attempting to explain that it isn’t him, it’s you.

“I’m sorry,” you start. You can’t seem to find the right words that will soften the blow. Your mind is an endless sea of thoughts, a similar deep blue that you find in Megumi's eyes. Oh, his eyes. One thing at a time. 

“You did everything right, I promise. I just think we’re looking for different things.” You don’t have much more to say, tuning out your now ex boyfriend’s pleas and questions as you stand and walk towards the door, not uttering another word. Your movements shift to being calculated and emotionless; maybe you are more like Megumi than you thought. You take a deep breath once outside, pulling your phone out and dialing Kugisaki. 

“Hey, what’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be with your boyfriend?” she asks. She can hear the whizzing of cars in the background of the phone call. You walk along a busy freeway with no destination in mind. But your body knows where it wants to be; with Megumi. Your heart drives you with such conviction that you’re nearly running now.

“I was, yeah, I just broke up with him. Can we go out for drinks? Ask Yuu and Meg, too.” You reply. Nobara pauses, waiting for more information before realizing you weren’t interested in sharing. Your tone was emotionless and commandeering; very out of character for you. She decides not to pry. After a moment of silence, you hear the soft murmur of voices echo through the speaker of your phone, before she returns to the call, the plan being set to meet at a local bar just outside the campus at 6pm. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The study session is interrupted by an incoming call to Nobara’s phone. Megumi’s heart soars at the sight of your name on the screen. Kugisaki smiles before answering, but her twinkling demeanor drops almost immediately. He hears her ask a couple questions, but he can’t comprehend what was said over the loud roar of blood rushing through his ears. He doesn’t understand how you elicit such unusual responses from him. These feelings are getting harder and harder for him to fight. He snaps back to reality when Kugisaki relays that you want to grab drinks tonight. He’d do anything and go anywhere for you, jumping on the chance to be around you. Keep your composure, they can’t know. Megumi stoically agrees to the plans, as does Yuuji. The call ends a moment later.

“I did not see that coming,” Kugisaki sighs, placing her phone back down on the table. Megumi looks to his friend, anxiously anticipating her debrief of the conversation she just had. The possibility that you were hurt made Megumi want to jump out of his skin, to console you in a deeper, more intimate way that friends probably shouldn’t do. Kugisaki’s vagueness of the whole situation was making his nerves run cold. 

“It’s not unusual for her to want to grab some drinks…did something happen?” Yuuji asks, concern painted across his normally cheerful face. Kugisaki just glances between the two boys, her brow furrowed. Megumi’s blood is ice in his veins when Nobara finally tells them. He tunes out his friends, his mind inundating with possibilities, sending a silent prayer to the heavens that you’ll soon take a chance on him. He kicks himself for thinking that way, guilt soon replacing his desperation. How dare he attempt to take advantage of your pain for his own pleasure. What kind of man has he become? 

You want nothing more than to run into Megumi’s arms, to hold his face in your hands. You can’t help but feel sinful for what you’ve done. But being with someone when you crave someone else’s touch goes against everything you believe. Inauthenticity. It’s causing you more harm than good. You can’t stand it anymore. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry it didn’t work out…just earlier today we were talking about how happy you two seemed together. Can’t help but think we jinxed it,” Yuuji apologizes as he crashes into you, his arms constricting you tightly. Such a sweet boy. He holds you there for a moment, rocking you back and forth, before breaking away, Kugisaki taking his place. 

“His loss, you’ll forget about him soon enough. Let’s get drunk. Maybe you’ll find someone new while we’re here!” Nobara smirks. Megumi can’t help but cringe at that suggestion, the thought of seeing you engaged with yet another man, a man that isn’t him, shoots a lead bullet through his chest. He reaches his boiling point. He can’t patch up his wounds anymore. 

Megumi approaches you last, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, patting gently and saying nothing. Pretty on brand for Megumi’s way of showing comfort, but there’s something different behind his eyes; a new, unknown feeling that you can sense while looking up at him. You fight every urge in your body telling you to ask about it, to pry deeper into his mind, knowing he wouldn’t tell you, anyway. You desperately want to lean into his touch, electricity shooting through your body. You smile gently at his unreadable expression before the four of you head inside. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Seated at a table away from the bar, the four of you talk about the upcoming exams. You set plans for your next study session. Yuuji invites the group to a movie premier on Saturday night. Everyone reluctantly agrees, even though the premise of the film sounds dreadful. As the night goes on, the drinks keep coming, and you and your friends are properly buzzed, giggling and joking around. Everyone except Megumi, only offering the occasional smile and quiet chuckle. Everytime he laughs, your heart beats faster. Unbeknownst to the group, he’s clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, fighting every urge to spill his deepest, darkest secret. 

Your eyes trace lines along his face, taking in every curve and angle of his disposition. Something is bothering him. Your stare is burning holes into his side profile, and he shifts his weight in search of relief from your intensity. The sun and her rays. You’re snapped out of your trance as Yuuji stands from the table, pointing his finger in Nobara’s direction. 

“Nobara Kugisaki, I challenge you to a Skee-Ball tournament!” he shouts. The abruptness of his actions shocks the three of you. You glance at Kugisaki, who’s smirking at Yuuji. 

“You are so on.”

The two abandon the table, trash talking one another on their way to the machine, leaving you and Megumi alone. You feel elated at the time you get to spend one on one with him. He feels differently.

“It was for the best, he seemed like an ass anyway,” Megumi huffs out, avoiding your gaze as he takes another sip of his drink. His comment catches you off guard, but it leaps from his mouth before he can give it a second thought, as if he had been waiting the entire night to say that to you, only feeling confident enough to do so with the liquor in his system and the listening ears now on the opposite end of the bar. 

“Well, no, he was perfectly nice, Meg,” you retort, confusion painted across your face. This is so unlike Megumi, the man of few words.

“So why dump him if he was so nice? There must be a reason,” he challenges. Megumi has moved from denial, to bargaining, to anger in the span of a day. He can’t help but lash out. He’s bursting at the seams. Being near you is no longer enough, and his ego is his last line of defense before you fully break his heart without even meaning to. The constant torment he’s felt since meeting you has slowly been chipping away at him. All he knows is that he’s had enough. If you leave, if he pushes hard enough, he won’t hurt anymore. He will no longer have a constant reminder of what could be. He will finally reach acceptance. 

The hostility of his words bruise you, anger plastered across his face. Why is he upset with me? I did this for him, not that he’d ever know that. You brush off the sting from his comment. You’re just happy to hear him speak. You’d do anything to listen to him express whatever thought popped in his head, hanging on every word that leaves his lips, even if they send shards of glass into your heart. It aches so beautifully. You can’t muster up the courage to tell him that he’s the reason it didn’t work out. You’re exhausted from trying to force connections with other people in hopes that they could replace him, the constant back and forth leaving your life in ruins. You cut ties with perfectly good people because you know they will never be Megumi. So you cling to anything you can get from him, even if it destroys you.

“I…I don’t know, Meg. I think I’m searching for something else,” you reply quietly, your response insinuating much more than you intended. Your words float through the air so inaudibly that they are nearly drowned out by the music pouring out of the bar’s speakers. But Megumi hears you. He always does. His head snaps to face you, meeting your gaze. He feels his blood pressure spike. Is she referring to me? No…that can’t be what she means. She’s just feeling vulnerable right now. He maintains eye contact with you, looking past your eyes and searching deep within your soul, hoping something in there will guide him towards the answers he so hopelessly needs.

Your breath catches in your throat. Why is he looking at me like that? Did I make it too obvious? Did I ruin everything? Megumi’s eyes dart around your face, searching for something, anything, that would alleviate his pain. It doesn’t matter what you meant by that statement. He can’t stand this anymore, teetering on the edge of insanity. If I can’t have her, and I can’t stand keeping her around without torturing myself, then… fuck it. He decides to jump.

He grabs your face with both hands before crashing his lips into yours, a muffled yelp escaping you. Your eyes go wide, your body freezes. Time slows to an insufferable pace. You can’t comprehend a single thing, a part of you trying to convince yourself that this isn’t real; if it’s nothing more than a drunken kiss. But it’s real. It’s everything and more. You close your eyes, surrendering to this moment. You move your lips against his, desperate to savor him. He feels the exact way you imagined him to, the taste of him clouding your senses. You can’t get enough. The two of you fit together perfectly. You are utterly and completely consumed by him.

His heart races as he feels you reciprocate. His hands run up and down your body with urgency, trying to make up for years of wasted time. The loud bar fades to black as he pulls you deeper into him. All he can feel is you; you’re all that matters, that has mattered. Your hands meet his cheeks, moving to thread themselves in his hair at the nape of his neck. He groans into your mouth, his tongue battling against yours. You claw at one another hungrily. After years of starving, you are finally satiated. Every doubt that clouded your mind is cast to the wayside. All the pain and suffering has come to an end. The outcome that you both desired comes to fruition. 

“Fucking FINALLY!” You break away from one another, the sound of Kugisaki’s voice bringing you back to reality. She's standing before you two with her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side. Yuuji is positioned beside her, grinning from ear to ear. Megumi takes your face in his hands again, pulling you close.

“Fucking finally,” he whispers. 

author notes: if this seemed very unhinged and scatterbrained it's bc it most definitely was..and i tried to write this is in a specific way so that it bounced back and forth and contradicted one another and...u get it. im sure u do.

anywho, thank u so much for engaging with my stories...every like, comment, and reblog makes my little heart soar xx

my inbox is always open, send your requests here♡

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#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro megumi #jjk fanfic #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #bratbby333

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hey! thanks for always making amazing content for us :-) for shy!reader i wanted to request a part two kind of deal to “if you’re too shy”? like maybe now steve is a little more forward when they make out now but what about when reader wants a liiittttllle bit more action ;-)

18+

You didn’t know how to say it.

You weren’t really used to asking for things, voicing your needs and wants - even though you knew fine well by now that Steve would give you whatever your heart desired. He’d give you the moon, a lilac sky, a handful of stars if you asked.

He was already giving you nothing but pleasure, his hips rolling into yours at pace that made your toes curl, your heavy breath mixing with his and the slick sound of skin meeting again and again and again—

But you’d seen something, an image that wouldn’t leave your head, not even after you’d spent the night before with your eyes clenched shut and you hands down the front of your pyjama shorts.

A movie cover, an almost blurry image of a girl on top of a guy, all red and pink and hidden in the part of Family Video that you rarely liked to follow Steve into. But he’d smiled all boyish and coaxed you behind the crimson velvet curtain as he shelved the rest of the returns and you’d seen it. A woman, all curves and plush skin, riding a man who had his head thrown back in ecstasy, his fingertips leaving indents on his partners hips as he clung to her.

You’d flushed, a new heartbeat thrumming through your body and you could feel it in your face, in the hummingbird pulse in your neck. You imagined Steve like that, under you, lips pink and parked, eyes glassy and cheeks pink.

Your voice had cracked when Steve had asked if you were okay, unable to see what you were staring at.

And now, Steve had one of your thighs hooked in the crook of his elbow as he sat back on his calves, rocking into you with a renewed effort. It made you whine, back arching for him and your needy noise made Steve’s hips stutter. He was getting close.

“Steve?” You moaned it, making it sound less of a question and more of a groan of approval - you certainly weren’t complaining, but if you wanted to try out your new fantasy, you’d have to be quick about it. Steve’s thumb found your clit and you blanked, white noise static between your ears as you panted, edging closer too.

“Steve?” You said again, louder, squeezing at his hips and the boy stopped immediately, eyes wide with concern.

“Fuck, you okay, babe? Did I hurt you?” His hands ran over your thighs and waist where he’d been holding you.

You were quick to shake your head, assuring him you were fine. More than fine. “No! No, no,” you sucked in a breath, nervous, silently telling yourself the boy in front of you would never say no to you. Even Eddie had told you it was an impossibility, albeit, he’d said it to tease Steve. “I just— can we try… something? Can I try something?”

Steve looked down at you, blinking slowly as if to process your request. You were never all that vocal in bed, not like this. You were always happy to let Steve take control, pleased to be manhandled across his sheets whichever way he liked, clinging to him and arching up for kisses when you desired. Steve didn’t mind that either.

“Shit, shit, yeah ‘course, baby,” Steve rasped out, voice heavy with need and curiosity. He pulled away, hard cock slipping out of you and making you both whine a little, the sound stuck behind teeth. “What d’you want, huh?”

This was the hard part. Telling him. The idea of voicing aloud your want to ride him made your whole body feel hot, toes curling in a way that wasn’t as pleasurable as what he’d been doing to you half an hour before. You blinked, swallowed hard and stared up at him.

Steve smiled, knowing, his nose crinkled as he leaned down to kiss sweet at your cheek, under your ear and along your jaw. He nosed at the same spot, his body warm as it blanketed yours, as if he could protect you from whatever was making you feel anxious.

“Wanna know a secret?” He whispered, lips still grazing along your skin. You hummed, happy for his closeness, his understanding, his way of knowing you shouldn’t be pushed through his. “No matter what it is that you wanna try… m’gonna fuckin’ love it.”

You preened, pleased and embarrassed by his compliment all at once, ‘cause you were sure you could spend the rest of your life with Steve Harrington and never, ever get used to the hot and needy look he liked to give you.

“What if I wanted you to like, spread jam all over me or something?”

Steve choked on a laugh at your words, eyes bright when you smiled up at him.

“What kind?” He quipped.

“Apricot,” you told him seriously, laughing when he made a face.

“I’m a raspberry guy myself, but—” he leaned down to lick a stripe over your throat, biting when you squeaked. “—I’ll compromise for you.”

Steve was still grinning when you pushed him back, his smile blurring into soft concern until he realised you were chasing him, your legs swinging over his waist when his back met the bed. You heard him swear, a pretty, soft noise that was all rasp and neediness.

His hands found your waist and he held at you tight, fingers leaving marks in the plush of your flesh. Your folds parted over the length of his cock when you rocked your hips over him all wet slick and desperation.

“Yeah?” He asked, brows kicking up and meeting in the middle as he tried not to let his eyes roll back. He didn’t want to miss a fucking second of this. “You wanna ride me, honey?”

You nodded, hands braced on his chest, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. You bit down hard, shyness creeping up your neck in a heated sweep.

“Is that okay?” You were so quiet, it left Steve breathless.

Steve bucked his hips a little, both of you groaning when his cock slipped back and forth under you, catching at your clit in a way that felt so very different from his thumb. He nodded, furious.

“Christ, yeah,” he was panting, tapping at your thigh to coax you up, his hard length kicking upwards for you to sink down onto. “Fuck, baby, you can do whatever you want to me, please.”

And if Steve were to beg, how could you let shyness get in the way of that?

…

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #emmy rambles #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader smut #steve baby blurb

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

good days [i.engen x reader]

prompt: moving on from someone you loved after they hurt you is hard, but you do it anyways.

author notes: part three and technically the last part finally! i have been so busy lately which was so annoying, but i can now sit down and write long form fics so yippie for me. enjoy it everyone!

part one: nights like this part two: could've been

GOOD DAY IN MY MIND, SAFE TO

TAKE A STEP OUT

GET SOME AIR NOW, LET YOUR EDGE OUT

TOO SOON, I SPOKE, YOU BE

HEAVY ON MY MIND

CAN YOU GET THE HECK OUT?

I NEED REST NOW, GOT ME BUMMED OUT

YOU SO, YOU SO, YOU, BABY, BABY, BABE

I'VE BEEN ON MY EMPTY MIND SHIT

the moment you landed in san diego and got into your apartment, you cried. relief and guilt washes over you as you sit on the floor (in your haste to leave, you didn't furnish the place just yet). you finally did the one thing you never thought you would be able to pull off; leaving ingrid. the weight of her lies are now off your back, but now a different weight sits there now. how could you? how could you just up and leave her with no warning. deep down you know you don't owe her anything after all the bullshit she pulled, but it's hard to think about that when you leave someone you love so deeply. it feels like you dumped her even though you two were hardly together.

ingrid's guilt tripping really has done a number on you. it's funny really, you always was the one telling her to go to therapy and now you definitely need it. maybe if you left sooner, you wouldn't be looking at different therapists in the san diego area. none look appealing to you or maybe it's just the refusal in your mind to be grouped into any type of group as your ex. it was always ingrid needs therapy, not you. now you realize having her around has impacted your mental way more than you thought. moving on is going to be a mess.

you decide to push away all these messy thoughts as you slip on your jacket; having never taken off your clothes or shoes. getting some air and looking at the new city you will be living in for an indefinite period of time is better than trying to fight against the emotions floating around your mind.

it's windy today, your hair flies around a bit as the wind hits you. the slight chill of it makes you shiver, but it's refreshing. ingrid is still weighing in on your mind as you walk around. heading to the park near your apartment building.

how was she feeling right now? what was she doing right now? has she already tried to reach you?

all these questions make you feel a bit lightheaded. how you wish you could just turn off your mind for an hour or two; get a break away from the anxiety that ingrid gifted you. it can't be helped really. you love her and that won't change for a while. you refuse to make yourself move on faster just because the relationship was a bunch of nothing; the right to dwell or not belongs to you. nobody else can dictate if you should do it faster or slower. not even the words of ingrid in your head that you can imagine her saying.

why would you do this to me?

don't you love me?

you threw everything away..

that's the ingrid that exists in your mind. all her bad moments cloud over the happy ones. you wish it was different, but it isn't.

your lips curl up into a small smile as you look at the sunset. it's beautiful with the sky being a mix of orange, pink, and blue. you use to call ingrid your sunset because just like the sunset she's gorgeous, but is only there for a bit before leaving completely. it was an endearing nickname based off feelings of annoyance and love.

this time around, the sunset is not about ingrid to you. it's about this moment. you have finally left her for good and once that sun sets fully and the moon rises, you promise to yourself to close this chapter of your life. your focus is on taking care of yourself and moving on at your pace.

once you circle back around and reach your apartment, the sun has already set. your head is feeling more empty than from before you left. is this dissociation? or is this just the feelings leaving you right now? you don't really care about it at the moment as you slip off your shoes and jacket. going into your bedroom to go lay on one of the only pieces of furniture in your apartment.

no sheets (you have to go shopping tomorrow), just a pillow. just like the blank mattress, your life is now a blank canvas for you to paint any way you want. how freeing is that.

I TRY TO KEEP FROM LOSIN'

THE REST OF ME

I WORRY I WASTED THE BEST

OF ME ON YOU, BABY

YOU DON'T CARE

SAID, NOT TRYA BE A NUISANCE,

IT'S JUST URGENT

TRYA MAKE SENSE OF LOOSE CHANGE

GOT ME A WAR IN MY MIND

GOTTA LET GO OF WEIGHT, CAN'T

KEEP WHAT'S HOLDING ME

CHOOSE TO WATCH

WHILE THE WORLD BREAK UP

AND FALL ON ME

you have a long list of worries that you carry with you throughout the day; when are you going to finally set up a therapy appointment? when is the next time you're going to see ingrid? have you lost your mind? are you ruined forever?

before you ever got involved with ingrid, you never thought about these things. it wasn't until she started to treat you like shit that all these thoughts started to invade your mind. you hate her. that you know for certain.

the fear of being forever ruined makes you contact a therapist in your area and make an appointment. refusing to be stuck in a pitiful, constantly thinking about your ex state.

you are tired of letting yourself down again and again. the mistake of not leaving ingrid the moment she showed how toxic she could be was the first of many, but now it's different. you have to do this; get some help so all these feelings can be let out somewhere.

you deserve this; this is the start of your new beginning. it won't be tainted by ingrid this time, this is all about you.

the first therapy session was exhausting. not because your therapist, ms. wright, wasn't great. the complete opposite. she was so good that suddenly all the emotions that have been building up inside of you spilled out the moment she asked what's wrong?

the internal desire to just not tell anything and be difficult was strong; a bad habit you have to shake. it's hard when in the past every time you bought up an issue to ingrid she would dismiss and deflect from it, so you just stopped trying. now you have to learn how to communicate your feelings in a healthy manner again. that they aren't miniscule, but important aspects of your being.

in the first session it's a lot of crying and not being able to say what you wanted because the words wouldn't flow out of your mouth. but still ms. wright listens and takes in every word and lets you go at your pace; this is all about you and she lets you know it.

you leave out of the modern styled clinic building with a different feeling from before. the lack of emotional weight is so freeing you want to cry again, but you have already cried enough so no tears come out as you get into your car. still there is a fight within your mind as you drive that distracts you slightly. half of your mind is still feeling guilty for just up and leaving ingrid. the other half is reminding you that she technically left you first and not once, but over and over again. why are you expected to stay, but she is free to run away from you at any moment?

you reach your apartment building after a few minutes, pulling into the parking lot. the light breeze of the san diego evening makes you smile as you get out of the vehicle. walking into the building with a small smile on your face.

healing will be a long process, but you are willing to do it. you have already taken the first step, more than ingrid has ever done for you, so it's a start. the moment your head hits the pillow you're out. for the first time in months you sleep peacefully.

ALL THE WHILE, I'LL AWAIT MY

ARMORED FATE WITH A SMILE

STILL WANNA TRY, STILL BELIEVE

IN (GOOD DAYS)

GOOD DAYS, ALWAYS (GOOD DAYS)

ALWAYS INSIDE (ALWAYS IN MY MIND,

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND)

GOOD DAY LIVING IN MY MIND

TELL ME I'M NOT MY FEARS, MY LIMITATIONS

I DISAPPEAR, IF YOU LET ME

FEELING LIKE (ON YOUR OWN)

FEELING LIKE JERICHO

FEELING LIKE JOB WHEN HE LOSE HIS SHIT

GOTTA HOLD MY OWN, MY CROSS TO BEAR ALONE, I

OOH, PAID A DEAL, WAY TO KILL THE MOOD

KNOW YOU LIKE THAT SHIT, YEAH, GROOVY BABY, BABY

HEAVY ON MY EMPTY MIND SHIT

you constantly have to remind yourself that healing is a process. one that takes time, energy, and willingness. that's so hard to remember on the nights where the only image in your mind is of ingrid every time she left you to dry. the endless times she refused to make you two's relationship work, the fear that always lingers in her eyes when you would open your apartment door to let her inside. the norwegian's biggest fear was someone "catching" you two. whatever that means because at the end of the day what you two were wasn't illegal. she just made it seem like it was. perhaps for ingrid, in her mind for herself, something like that is wrong; is illegal. in the court of the public, it was worthy of punishment is probably what she thought whenever you two kissed. whenever you two cuddled. whenever you two acted like any other couple, was ingrid worrying about how it would look to others?

oh, god and every word she has spoken to you is imprinted into your mind at this point.

you know i can't

if you loved me, you would wait

i swear i love you but i just can't..

ingrid always had a thousand excuses and a thousand more lies to cover up all her problems. it didn't matter if her actions heavily affected you because it was all about her and what she feared and what she needed. what about you? you weren't a fucking robot. fears and worries clung to your conscience too. there were needs that needed to be taken care of too. but did you run and deflect at every turn? no, you wanted to sit down and talk them out like a normal couple would. too bad nothing about you two's arrangement was normal. sneaking around like romeo and juliet wasn't as thrilling as it sounded. and just like those two, you two's story ended in death. ingrid was the first to stab it and you were the one to send another stab straight into it's heart. ripping it apart into shreds until it was unreadable.

however, those nights were just moments in your new life where the past got the better of you; and that's all they would be, moments. those haunting thoughts don't push you into a corner anymore like before. outside of therapy and those late nights, ingrid is the last thing in your mind.

being around your teammates at san diego wave lightens up your day so much. a group of goofballs who refuse to let you be sad for even a second. the times after practice when you all just decide to go to dinner make all the worry in your body leave. transferring from barcelona was possibly the best decision ever for you.

you would have probably isolated yourself back in spain, not wanting to be around ingrid anymore than you have to be.

outside of your teammates, there was something else making the move to the wave worth it; someone else. a pretty journalist who you met at an interview. she wasn't even the one who was interviewing you.

you have bumped into her while looking for the bathroom. saying a quick apology after realizing you bumped into a really pretty woman. she gives you a warm smile, "it's fine" comes from her lips. why do her words sound so satisfying? before you could completely gay panic, you excused yourself and eventually found the bathroom. suddenly feeling too shy to ask that pretty brunette about where to find it.

you thought that would be the end of it. one small interaction that you forget about after a while, but no. the universe for some reason was pushing you and this woman together. she became a regular journalist for the san diego wave. you come to find out her name is julianna; how gorgeous. even when you kept seeing her around, the reminder that you needed to heal and work on your trust issues was constant in the back of your mind. but you couldn't really help it, could you? eventually you started to spend more and more time around her whenever she came around to training or at games. being the first to volunteer for an interview after a good match. it was honestly sorta embarrassing; why were you feeling all giddy like a teenager again? still julianna was still so pretty and kind and many other positive adjectives that you could think of. the woman spoke with such a tone like she was deeply interested in whoever she was talking to. strong eye contact and always having something to say that would lead the conversation to be more interesting.

soon enough the time spent around her bled into spending time outside of soccer. you took the first step one day after asking her out for coffee after a short interview. julianna laughed softly as she asked, "is this a date?" the bashful smile on your lips answered her question. she said yes; leading to one of the best dates you have ever had.

you two spent a good hour at a cafe just talking. getting to know each other outside of y'all's work personalities. the conversation was so good, you two didn't want to end so julianna suggested going to a nearby board walk; and that's exactly what you two did.

sitting beside each other on a bench on the boardwalk, overlooking the ocean. talking for hours until the sun set. it took all the resolve inside of you to not invite her over to your place. you didn't want the date to end, but that was okay as you weren't going to let it be the last.

after dropping off julianna off at her house you headed back to your apartment. a light feeling in your chest as you changed into your pajamas before laying on the couch to find a show to watch. the moments from the date replaying in your mind. you couldn't believe you have been missing out on stuff like this for so long. with ingrid a simple date like that would have never happened. it was too risky because "what if someone sees us" was always her answer whenever you asked to go anywhere outside of your or her's apartment.

it seems like it will be another one of those nights where you think about ingrid. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you reminisce. nothing could ruin how good your day was, but these thoughts were definitely darkening it. you remember the first time you built up the courage to ask ingrid out on a date.

it was around new years, spain was electric with celebration. this was around the early stages of the relationship and still you two have never been out on a proper date; and that bothered you.

you thought it was just because of the busy schedule you both had. being too tired to do anything else but a few cuddles before bed or a hug after practice before going to your two separate apartments. so as you sit next to ingrid on your couch, cuddling up to her, you ask her; "shouldn't we go for dinner. to celebrate the new year?"

the way ingrid tensed up didn't go unnoticed. you look at her confused as she says, "how about we just stay in and cook? that's more romantic, right?" the words sounded forced like that option wasn't even that appealing in all honesty. just a cover up, so she didn't have to say what she actually wanted which was no.

that moment was one that stuck with you throughout the relationship. every lie, broken promise, and lack of attention weighed heavily on you. that should have been the first sign that ingrid was ready to be in a relationship with you, but no. out of pure blind love you moved past that and agreed.

now the fear that julianna might be the same way settles in your mind. she might not have said no to a date, but what about bigger commitments? would she run just like ingrid has.

a string of anger hangs in your heart; this is so unfair. even with ingrid not around she ruins your day in a way only she can. it was fucking frustrating, you wish you didn't have to deal with all the left over baggage she left you.

an annoyed sigh leaves your lips as the sound of all american plays in the background. you decide to push your feelings away and to just indulge in a night full of watching a meaningless tv show; wanting to get annoyed at the problems in the characters lives, not your own.

and that's exactly what you did. watching random shows back to back until you drifted off to sleep.

I GOTTA KEEP FROM LOSIN'

THE REST OF ME (LOSIN' THE REST OF ME)

STILL WORRY THAT I WASTED

THE BEST OF ME ON YOU, BABE

YOU DON'T CARE

SAID, NOT TRYNA BE A NUISANCE,

IT'S JUST URGENT (IT'S URGENT)

TRYNA MAKE SENSE OF LOOSE CHANGE

GOT ME A WAR IN MY MIND (MY MIND)

GOTTA LET GO OF WEIGHT,

CAN'T KEEP WHAT'S HOLDING ME

CHOOSE TO WATCH

WHILE THE WORLD BREAK UP AND FALL ON ME

ALL THE WHILE, I'LL AWAIT MY

ARMORED FATE WITH A SMILE

STILL WANNA TRY, STILL BELIEVE IN

(GOOD DAYS, GOOD DAYS ON MY MIND)

GOOD DAYS (GOOD DAYS ON MY MIND)

ALWAYS SUNNY INSIDE (ALWAYS IN

MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND)

GOOD DAY LIVING IN MY MIND

therapy was getting better. ms. wright knew the exact words to say and the exact ways to help you with your mental state. you have started to journal at her request, at first thinking it's slightly childish. writing down all your feelings like some type of diary? you left that in highschool ages ago, but somehow that method still works when it comes to your emotions. whenever your mind felt clouded with ingrid you would write your feelings out.

not only that, but you started to run. outside of your usual workout routine and the training sessions you had as a professional footballer, you never was one to be interested in exercise. most workouts were just ways for you to keep up your physic for games; nothing more. however, running was freeing. not only mentally but physically.

just like how ms. wright has said, mental stress weighs heavily on the body. causing tension and discomfort even though it's all mental. you knew this of course but never wanted to admit how your mental health has been causing your body to feel like it's tight enough to burst at any moment. in your mind it didn't make any sense, but ms. wright reassured you that it was natural. the mind and body are undeniably connected, one will always follow the other. anyways back to running, the feeling of your body being sore as you pant was exhilarating. your chest feeling so light after each run.

you take one in the morning and one at night. making sure not to miss the run at night because that's when your emotions always get the best of you.

not only did you work on finding healthy coping mechanisms to let out your emotions, but you worked on your trust issues.

the process was dreadful.

when people say the path to healing is linear, it's true. some days you felt like you could trust anyone with anything and on others you wished you could isolate yourself from the world so you wouldn't be hurt ever again.

your therapist was there at every step. guiding you and also sometimes letting you figure out some thoughts on your own.

"why do you think i couldn't just, you know, up and leave her?" you asked one day as you sit in front of ms. wright. the tall woman smiles at you. staying silent for a moment before saying, "why do you think so?"

getting a question back for your own questions makes you frown. how were you supposed to know? the whole reason you're in therapy was for your therapist to help you out, not make you figure out issues on your own. that was your mind process at first but after leaving the appointment, you really sorta understood why ms. wright didn't just give you some answer.

there are some things in life that only you know and can answer; this is one of them. you didn't want to sit around or even journal about the why. instead you go for a run. it was around time for your evening run anyways, so why now kill two birds with one stone?

the thoughts flow easily as you step out onto the trail. ready to go down your usual path. the why doesn't come immediately, but you think about your feelings for ingrid again.

it wasn't a lie to say that you loved ingrid. that you were in love with her. why else would you fight for her so badly? not even in just a romantic sense. before you two dated, you were obviously teammates and had a sorta close relationship. hanging out outside of practice with the other barcelona players often. talking about current shows and books that you both liked. it wasn't your fault that you fell in love with the friend version of ingrid. who would have thought she would be so different as a girlfriend?

perhaps that's why you clung on. you hoped, no, begged that that version of ingrid that you knew in the past would come back. that it was deep inside of her and just needed some pulling to come out. you just had to fight for it and throughout all that effort, it would appear. which wasn't true in the slightest. the ingrid from before wasn't the one you knew throughout that time where you two hid and snuck around; you should had known.

well, you just found your why. you smile as you finish your run, turning back around to walk to your car.

did you just realize you were chasing after someone who didn't exist, to you at least, anymore? yeah.

would this realization haunt you for the rest of your life? maybe so..

but still you felt lighter. not just physically, but mentally. the sun looked brighter as it set low in the sky.

god, how gorgeous life is when you aren't chasing after broken dreams. after something that doesn't and will never exist again.

why do you feel so free?

GOTTA GET RIGHT, TRYNA FREE

MY MIND BEFORE THE END OF THE WORLD

I DON'T MISS NO EX, I DON'T MISS NO TEXT

I CHOOSE NOT TO RESPOND

I DON'T REGRET, JUST PRETEND

SHIT NEVER HAPPENED

HALF OF US LAYIN' WASTE TO OUR YOUTH,

IS IN THE PRESENT

HALF OF US CHASIN' FOUNTAINS OF

YOUTH AND IT'S IN THE PRESENT NOW

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND

YOU'VE BEEN MAKING ME FEEL LIKE I'M

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND

you post julianna on your instagram after four months of being together. she has asked you after a nice dinner date that ended in a walk near the beach. you remember feeling so special, like a priority when she pulled you close by the waist. her hand gently caressing the skin that was exposed there. a warm look in her eyes as she smiles at you. "can i be your girlfriend?" the brunette asked. giggling once you just pulled her into a kiss. no words needed.

back to hard launching you two's relationship, it was a whole new feeling. a mix of uncertainty and happiness was floating around in your heart. what if julianna changed her mind? that she didn't want to publicly claim you? that would definitely drive you insane, but it was the complete opposite. julianna was fine with you posting a picture of you two; the picture is from one of the earlier dates y'all went on. you're holding her face as you kiss the tip of her nose. she's smiling, her hands holding onto your waist.

you could finally do normal couple things like post about cute dates and funny off guard photos and walk around in public while holding hands. there was no risk attached to it. no "we can't let them know" coming from julianna. she was happy to hold your hand and give you a small peck on the cheek while out. the lack of shame was refreshing.

the teasing comments from your teammates on how you charmed the team's journalist away were slightly annoying, but it was all in good fun.

life was truly looking up. your therapy sessions were centered around just ingrid based issues anymore, but others you have been needing help with. ms. wright was one stable support pillar in your life who consoled you for everything; especially the pressure from being a footballer in the limelight. san diego was really shaping up to be your home.

the day you heard about ingrid's new relationship was a day that you wish you could forget. it was a late saturday night, you had just got off a facetime call with julianna who was away in france for some press work. scrolling through instagram, seeing a post about ingrid and mapi dating on your feed. it wasn't some speculation post but one that was completely official. a photo that was obviously posted on one of their instagrams.

that single photo almost made you throw your phone against the wall.

after all the fighting and struggle.

all the begging and trying to help her face her fears.

all it took for ingrid to be open was for her to date someone else? that's all it was? so was it really just an "afraid of being open" thing or a you thing?

a sense of anger hits you. the audacity for her to move on after everything she put you through was laughable. of course you didn't expect her to sit around, crying over the relationship forever. that wasn't realistic or healthy, but you just didn't get it.

what was wrong with you? why couldn't she do that for you?

then came the rush of guilt; you had no reason to be angry. you had moved on, so why couldn't she? it was a double standard that you didn't want to touch on.

it took two hours of journaling to get your feelings sorted out. that sense of anger was just from feeling like this whole situation is unfair. ingrid refused to be public with you; claiming to be afraid, but pops out with mapi? you should be happy for her. that obviously means the norwegian went and got help like you always told her to. she had finally faced her fears.

but you are healing, not healed so you allow yourself to fully stick with your emotions. watching trashy rom coms while thinking about that post.

the next day, you slowly but surely got over it. once you talked to julianna in the morning your feelings were quite small about that lil reveal post. who cares if ingrid moves on? you have moved on too! this is for the best, so you shouldn't care so much about it. at least you wouldn't have to see her any time soon.

or so you thought.

you became a puma athlete only recently after your partnership with adidas ended. puma had the bigger offer, so you went ahead and signed the deal. the athletic brand wanted you to come to an event for their new campaign and you obviously didn't refuse. throwing on a gorgeous dress along with having julianna help you do your hair; keep cute giggles still in your mind as you sat at one of the tables in the large room.

there were many other athletes here, not just footballers. some you knew and others you didn't. it was nice to see players you haven't seen in forever. expect for one in particular.

you were daydreaming about what to do when you went back home. already about to grab your phone to text julianna when you looked up and saw her.

ingrid was sitting at a table across from yours; enjoying some pasta. she looked just the same as when you left her. just as pretty. hopefully not as toxic. your eyes must have been burning her hole through her as she finally looks up and sees you. her eyes dilating slightly as you two hold eye contract.

you're the first to break it. not being able to stand looking into her eyes for any longer. those same eyes that always held fear in them were different now. beside the opposite panic in the norwegian's eyes, there was something else. sprinkles of happiness in her eyes. the sound of a chair moving and steps passing your table snap you out of your thoughts.

ingrid was heading towards the bathroom. should you follow her or would that be weird? with how she looked back at you, maybe she had something to say. did you want to listen? you don't know, so you stand up and follow after her. of course letting a few minutes pass before following; no one could know, right?

once you walk into the bathroom you can hear the water running. ingrid is putting some water on her face. you had to say something to get her attention since she definitely didn't think you would go after her.

"i didn't expect to see you again," you say softly. she gives you a glance, obviously about to say something. the surprise that comes into your mind once she starts apologizing is hard hitting. you never thought she would apologize; that wasn't the type of closure you thought you would ever get.

hearing her apologize and put all the blame on her should be satisfying. finally should be sitting in your mind in bold letters, but it wasn't. after all the therapy and finding someone else, an apology wasn't something you wanted anymore.

"i don't forgive you," the words come out of your mouth easily. you never thought you would ever be able to say that to her; in the past you always ran to forgive her and just forget. not this time around. the small disappointment in her eyes makes you almost reconsider, but no. you have a right to not accept an apology. "but i'm glad you got help. finally," you say genuinely.

you two just stare at each other before you turn and leave out of the bathroom. not wanting to deal with the awkward silence anymore.

ingrid has done it; gave you the thing you needed and wanted from her. and you didn't even accept it.

why was that so freeing to do?

the apology wasn't the closure, being able to give ingrid the rejection and disappointment you experienced from her countless times before was the closure.

you're officially over ingrid engen.

© thinkingaboutjaedyn

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso x reader #woso fanfics #norwnt #barcelona femeni

[mayhemories]

Neteyam x reader (She/her pronouns)

Huddling for warmth trope please!

If You Wanted A Cuddle, You Could Have Asked

Uh-oh, I took 'huddling' and ran with it... I hope you're still satisfied with my interpretation of this trope, wanted to make it a little different but really could've gone a million different ways with this one! I have been loving all of the requests that have been sent, keep sending them they provide me with so much joy and purpose. <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: This fluff gets a lil spicy, !!no minors!! 

Words: 1.2k

Author’s Notes: 

Neteyam is 21, reader is 21. Lo’ak and Kiri are roughly 20ish. I’m gonna estimate Tuk is 7 or 8?

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Taglist: @myheartfollower @luvlykrispy

Read below the cut:

You tossed and turned in your sleeping hammock. The rains had come early to you mountain home. Usually, the forest was warm, sometimes humid. But since moving to High Camp the altitude and rain came together to create something you never really felt bred for, the cold. 

You were shivering, your teeth chattering against one another in rapid succession. You felt your nose and the tips of your ears begining to burn, the pain sizzling into numbness, usually a comforting feeling to you when you were high in the sky, soaring with your ikran. But now, you just felt ill. You weren’t really one to normally care about clothes, but you were thankful for the shawl Kiri had gifted you earlier in the evening, pulling it tighter around your shoulders, bringing your knees as far as they could to your chest, in fetal position. 

Yet warmth never found you. 

You opened your eyes, groaning as you rolled onto your back, looking up at the waxed canvas and leather that built your tent. This time of year the sky often held the three moons, their light beautiful and full, causing Pandora’s bioluminescence to glow brighter, for longer. The waxed canvas was fantastic at keeping the light out at night.

Usually. 

You quickly held your hands up to your face, shivering as you did so, hands shaking ever so slightly. You could see them perfectly, like it was the middle of the day. It was far too bright in here, you could never see your hands usually. 

Your head whipped around, sitting up in your hammock you tried to find where the light was coming from. 

Right above your door, a perfect circle was cut into the waxed canvas, the moonlight flooding in, brining all the cold air with it. It would be an easy fix in the morning, just a small little patch to cover it. It wasn’t unusual for the canvas to wear or damage, or even for the leather to rip over time. But this was a perfect little hole. Like someone had done surgery on your tent to let all the cold air in and to flush you out. 

You knew it was late but you were so inconceivabley angry that someone had messed with your wall, and, that you were cold. So, you slipped out of your hammock, your aching legs hitting the ground and walked to the only person that could make you feel better about both things. 

Slipping into the Sully’s tent at night wasn’t that uncommon for you, you would always long to see your friends, and you knew Jake and Neytiri didn’t mind waking up to you being in their home, in fact they encouraged sleepovers your whole childhood, that did not fade into your adulthood. What was surprising, however, was that the Sully’s were asleep in front of their firepit that Neytiri used for cooking. They obviously had felt the cold too, despite their tent not being sabotaged. Jake laid near the door, Neytiri’s head on his chest and little Tuk asleep on his stomach. Lo’ak was only an arms length away from Neytriri laying on his back, long lanky arms strewn across his face. You stifled a laugh when you noticed Kiri, using Lo’ak’s ankles as a pillow, green shawl wrapped tightly around her, she laid like you had only moments ago, fetal, craving warmth.

Neteyam laid on the other side of the open room, furthest away from the fire, but with a woven blanket Kiri had made him for his most recent nameday. He laid with plenty of room, and conveniently, plenty of blanket. 

Neteyam had never officially courted you, or even expressed the want, or any thoughts about you at all really. 

But in all your childhood sleepovers, until now, Neteyam always left space for you, you always found eachother anyway. Even if you started of opposite sides of the room, you knew that you would end up wrapped in his thick arms, head on his chest, legs wrapped up in one another.

There was one night, last summer when you awoke in the middle of the night, Neteyam spooning you, as you so often did, but his tail had wrapped itself around your thigh. You had never felt so seen as you did that night. 

You made quick work of crawling under the blanket. You laid on your side, facing away from him, yet his relaxed features did not leave your mind. You knew you were freezing, you refrained from touching him, but his radiating heat helped nonetheless. 

You sighed, deeply. It felt so right being here like this, with him. You did not want to think about when you would inevitably find this space filled by another, for now, Neteyam had no lover, and the space was yours. 

Neteyam stirred, pulling you by the waist to be close to him, entrapping you there with his heavy arm across your abdomen. His hot breath fanned out across the shell of your ear. Your ear flicked back and forth, adjusting to the warmth and the sensitive sensation. 

“You are so cold, ma (y/n).” Neteyam whispered, his voice husky with sleep. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs to relieve some tension. “Come, we can huddle together for warmth.” Neteyam pushed his body closer to yours, entangling your legs, and wrapping his other arm under your neck. 

This was everything you wanted, but you were too hot for all the wrong reasons. You could feel Neteyam in every intimate way along your back and behind. His breath fanned over your ear and down your face, remnants of the intimacy causing goosebumps to rise on your exposed neck. 

“There was a hole in my tent.” You whispered softly to the boy nearly asleep behind you. Surely, providing context to your late night sleepover would make the whole thing more normal. 

“I know, ma (y/n).” The ghost like touch of Neteyam’s soft lips found your hair line, leaving nothing but the imagination of a kiss in its wake. “How else would I have assurance that you would come to find me in the middle of the night? Happens a lot less often these days.” You felt your stomach drop and flip simultaneously at Neteyam’s sleepy confession. You knew that this was something probably worth getting angry over, but as Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh, and one of his hands ghosted over the mound of your breast, and his lips left small, barely-there kisses down the side of your face and neck, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. 

He made you feel a lot of things in that moment, across your entire body, mind and soul. But angry was not one of them.

“I will patch it tomorrow morning, I promise.” Neteyam said softly, as his tail made its way up and down your thigh, his strong thumb rubbing circles into your hip bone. 

“I would surely hope so,” You whispered, turning your head, your lips a hairsbreadth apart. “If you wanted a cuddle, you could’ve asked Neteyam.” His lips were as warm as what you always had pictured them to be. Soft, but his kiss was not. His tongue explored your mouth, and though you tried to assert dominance you knew you would let this boy ruin you. He stifled your moan with his own mouth, though realising what he coaxed from you he pulled away, smiling in the firelight. 

“I want to do so much more than just cuddle. But this is for warmth, and warmth only.” His smile and golden eyes were always going to be enough for you to feel warmth. It did not hurt that his body was there too.

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar twow #avatar domestic #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #jake sully #jake sully domestic #jake sully platonic #jake sully x neytiri

[ledgerserious8]

Shoulder To Cry On | Patrick Verona & Reader

Warning : Don't copy my writing Don't steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing

Genre : High School Christmas Eva Love Confession

Summary : After you get your bag from stealing you find something into it..

Word count : 1.4k

You was looking at the light of the moon it's was one of Christmas nights and you was breathing slowly trying to get a free moment

The air from the sky coming towards your window and made your shiny hair started moving slowly the light of the moon on your face making your expression more clear

And you smiled to yourself..

Because you can handle yourself this morning and get your black bag after someone unknown in the high school steal it

You was happy that you was strong because that's how your parents teaching you to be

However you was smart person and you was the only one who ignoring Patrick Verona the bad boy of your high school

A lot of girls was having crush on him especially your bestfriend Katarina "Kat" Stratford the girl with blonde hair

She had always talking to you about Patrick and sometimes explaining her love feelings for him to you

But you was a lot different from her you was having dreams and future you didn't care about getting love and be loved

...because you never fall in love before

Sweetie don't forget to eat dinner - your mother explained she in the living room but you still can hear her

Yes mom don't worry - you replied calmly as turned your head to your room noticed your objects

And your black bag on the table

You get curious feelings into your heart because you didn't open your bag from the morning after you get it back

Your foots walked and you sit down on the chair your fingers grabbed the zip of the bag and somehow you felt nervous from opening it

Come on y/n there's nothing wrong - you thought into your mind trying to calm yourself down

Your fingerstips pulled the zip down to be off and you opened your black bag you signed in relief after seeing there's nothing wrong

But suddenly..your eyes catch a letter was hiding into the bag

It's was a love letter..

You grabbed the letter and looked at it trying to study it but there's no signature and that's made it hard to you to know who

Let's see - you whispered to yourself as opened the letter by your fingers

'My dearest Y/n..

"My beautiful darling. I don't know where to begin..

"I just want you to know that I love you, and I don't know where I would be right now, if it wasn't for you.

"I am nothing without you. And i Swear to"

"I want you to know that I think about you every day. While everyone think about me

'Baby it's you into my heart my mind and my soul"

"I can be the shoulder you will cry on just by simple word from your sweet mouth..."

'That mouth that I'm dreaming of kissing it every night"

"I know that I'm probably not good enough for you... But I hope that you can find a way to love me back.

Your.....

Your eyes was shining as your heart was beating faster than before you could feel there's butterflys into your stomach it's was weird feeling but..

It's was so beautiful and good..too good to be true

You felt high on your cheeks because you was red like tomato but when you heard the steps of your mother coming to your room

You hided the letter into your bag again..

Come on sweetie we're waiting for you - your mother explained calmly after opened the door and looked at you

Yes mom i was just busy cleaning my bag - you lied and smiled because you noticed she believed you

Darling you need to eat and rest come on join us let's enjoy our Christmas nights - your mother explained tenderly as grabbed your arm gently

I know mom i know - you replied calmly as smiling while your eyes was shining

You smiled as standing up and walking with your mother leaving your room for dinner and making it empty for some time

But you will never know the handwriting was from Patrick Verona the bad boy of your high school

But as he wrote into the letter while everyone was thinking him..you was the only person into his mind

He want to be your boyfriend your man the one you put your eyes on and the happiness of your heart

A simple from your mouth will make him..

Shoulder To Cry On

#actors #celebrities #heath #heath ledger #heath ledger imagine #heathers #patrick verona #Patrick Verona imagines #patrick verona x reader #high school #christmas #christmas nights

[rowretro]

𝓜𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮

✧warnings: drug addiction, alcohol, angst, heartbreak, somewhat suicide(?)

❁synopsis: read to find out

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

They always warn us in movies that the usage of cigarettes and alcohol will have a harshly negative impact on our health.... but never warned us that Love will have such a painful impact on our lives. Y/n sat there, looking down at the glistening depths of the water, ashes from her roll up disappearing as they fell. All she had was a crush, on who seemed to be a sweet boy. but no. She lost a friend whom she thought was trustworthy, and her only chance to be happy.

Is it too much to ask for to be in love? to have a small crush that could possibly blossom into something beautiful? She knows she must move on. But it hurts, her heart is aching, her tears never stop, she's mad, she's sad. All because of a boy. Her eyes darted to the moon, above her. Taking a swing of her Jack Daniels, she cursed god for her existence. There, where hope, love, happiness and so many sweet feelings were, was replaced by pain, sadness, grief. That painful feeling of emptiness that only drugs could fill the space of.

Not too far off, was a very handsome man, He sworn to never fall in love again. The girl he trusted with his love, vulnerability and trust, left him hurt and humiliated. She was showing interest, leading him on, just to humiliate him in front of the whole school. Mad, he smashed his cherry Soda bottle, making poor y/n flinch. "Sorry..." he trailed off, a little guilty, as he lit up a cigarette. The girl just nodded, taking more heavy swigs of her JD.

"Love hurt you too?" He suddenly asked, as he sat beside the girl, new cigarette in his mouth. "hmm." she simply said, too high to function. "Same... u got a lighter?" he asked again as Y/n pulled one out of her pocket and handed it to him. The male lit his cigarette as he stared at her. She looked exhausted, way more worse than him. "he' not worth it." he simply said, eyes wanderring off into a distance as he regretted his attempt at comforting a stranger.

It would be weird if they were complete strangers, but he knows her, she's in his class. The girl who was always smiling, buying sweets for her crush, and snacks for everyone in the class because she was just like that. It was kind of disheartening to see her so... hurt. "You... Riki?" she asked as he nodded. She remembers him as the handsome cool boy who has a great taste in style, heck she would've fallen for him if it wasn't for her crush being a seemingly sweet guy.

"And you're a god person. Someone who can do way better than... whoever the guy is" he smiled as y/n also tried to force a smile. "It hurts now but it'll get better I swear... also drinking too much is really bad for you- plus we have school tomorrow... right sorry- not my place to say anything- I'll leave you be-" he said as he got up.

"Wait... stay-" she said. She didn't know why, or what got over her... but she needed the comfort of someone's presence. Riki silently sat beside her, letting her head rest against his shoulder, as they stared off into a distance... a constellation of stars, decorating the night sky, a passer-by would assume they were a sweet, young couple.

#engene #enhypen ff #enhypen x reader #ni ki #enhypen niki #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fluff #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #niki reaction #enhypen niki angst #ni ki enhypen #enhypen niki ff #niki enhypen #niki fluff #niki #niki imagines #niki scenarios #ni ki x reader #niki x reader #niki yandere #ni ki imagines #nishimura niki #yandere niki #riki #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #enhypen nishimura riki #riki nishimura

[meiluu]

Halloween Fun

Leon S. Kennedy/ Reader(AFAB) cw: semi-public, some what rough, pwp, creampie, praise (Leon calls you his good girl). Kind of a AU where RC doesn't happen but Leon is 27 in this and is good friends with the Redfield's. I am so feral for this man Not edited*

Reader Pov.

Halloween was probably your favorite holiday, a close second to Christmas. It was a night full of devious fun and excitement and even as you've gotten older and stopped trick 'o treating the spirit of this holiday hasn't left you. With the autumn chill raising goosebumps across your skin, you make your way to the Redfield's home where a Halloween party was being held. Dressed in a very cute but tastefully revealing black-cat costume ready to see Leon's costume who had so far kept it a secret from you. Even going so far as to dress at the Redfield's house after he got off work, just so that you would get the full affect of the surprise. Walking up the stairs, your heels clicking rhythmically across the pavement. Making it to the ornate wooden door you knock and not a moment later the joyful face of Claire greets you. A squeal of you name leaves her lips, "Oh my god, you look so good!" pulling you into a warm hug a smile making its way across your face. Stepping away from the hug you admire Claire's costume of a very adorable witch with a massive hat and broom to top it all off. "Claire you look amazing!" your happiness seeping out with your words.

Once you made it inside the bass of a familiar Halloween song welcomed your ears. Tables had been set up with food and punch that had all been decorate to fit in with the holiday spirit. Scanning the people crowding the living and kitchen areas your eyes finally catch onto a all too familiar head of blond hair. And its like he knew your eyes were on him because not a moment later he's turning his head around blue eyes meeting yours. And its almost comical how Leon's face lights up at seeing you-his beautiful girlfriend-. With a few quick strides Leon soon has you wrapped into his embrace, strong arms holding you fiercely. Relishing in his comforting warmth and scent you finally pull yourself away from him to at last view his costume. A Vampire, hair pushed back and a little messy, paired with a Victorian style top the gave you the perfect view of his sculpted chest, and tight black pants and boots that accentuated his beautiful ass. It took every ounce of self control to not just drool and fall into him at just how gorgeous he looked. "Fuck you look so good baby, my imagination did not do you justice." His voice is full of love and desire, the huskiness sending shivers down your spine as your cheeks redden. "You don't look so bad yourself handsome, the wait was totally worth it." a cheeky smile takes hold of your face as you get lost within his gaze sneaking a quick kiss from his plump lips. A heady groan rumbles within his chest-his arms snake around your waist pulling you impossibly closer. Before you can take this further, he is grabbing your hand dragging you onto the makeshift dance floor as the song changes to one that has your body moving to its hypnotizing rhythm. A quick look at Leon has you smiling in pure joy, he has the cutest look upon his face one that is full of adoration for you and that sweet giddiness that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

Leon's warm and big hands hang onto you as you both enjoy each others presence, dancing together letting yourselves get lost within one another. As other bodies dance and move with the beat of the music around you, both of you get lost in the rhythms from each song that plays on the speakers. With a quick glance out the window you can now see the full moon high within the sky. Then your thoughts are interrupted by Leon's face leaning down next to your ear. "You know I've always had this stupid little dream of dancing with a beautiful girl at some party, then making a break for it and making out in some dark closet away from everyone." His chuckle follows his words, and while he laughs your mind is short-circuiting as it dreams up all of the possible scenarios of how that could play out. And as fate would have it you and Leon would fulfill his dream to the fullest.

As the moon your only source of illumination you can barely make the out the silhouette of Leon's figure, seeing as his back was blocking out the moon highlighting his body but his face was still shrouded by the darkness of the room. his lips devouring yours as his tongue dances with yours, heavy breaths leave you both but he doesn't linger for long as his lip leave a molten hot trail down your neck to the tops of your breast that are exposed by your outfit. Sucking harshly upon your skin no doubt leaving a mark behind, repeating this same motion across your neck and your breast surely littering your skin in his love bites. "Do you want to go further? We can stop here if you're uncomfortable." Even though his voice is husky with lust his words hold sincerity with them, your heart skips at how Leon has always made sure you were comfortable. "Yes, Leon please I need you now. Please." you can't keep the neediness from your voice, not that you even tried or cared enough to do so. Not now, not ever, you would never feel ashamed at how much you loved Leon and if you could would stay within his embrace for all of eternity you would.

With hurried movements and the sound of Leon unbuckling his belt, your cunt is wet with anticipation a warmth settling within the pit of your stomach. His calloused hands are pulling your your by your thighs to him a whine leaving your lips as his bulge rubs against your clothed clit sending dull waves of pleasure straight to your core. You were so thankful that your outfit was nothing but a short revealing black dress with some cheap black stockings along with some cat ears and a fake tail attached to the dress. Along with a little pair of panties that you wouldn't care if they got ripped to shreds.

Leon soon sets a teasing rhythm of grinding against your clothed cunt, pushing up your dress to where only your stocking and panties were your only barrier away from his black boxers. Sweet whimpers fall from your kiss swollen lips as Leon stifles his groans of pleasure by biting into his lip. But eventually this became insufficient to what you both wanted- Leon pushes his boxers down freeing his cock from its confines then his hands are ripping into your stockings and tearing apart your panties into nothing but shreds of cloth. Then you are reaching down grabbing onto him, eliciting a sharp grunt from him at your soft hand around him. Guiding him to your wet and wanting cunt, pushing himself into you- making sure to go slow seeing as you both had forgone the typical foreplay you did to prepare yourself for him. Reaching the end, you both are flush against each other. Starting off with a slow but deep pace, waiting until you fully become adjusted to him. Legs wrapped around his torso, Leon's body covering yours as he has his arms rested by the sided of your head. His sounds of pleasure mingling with yours, as he works to his cock in and out of your hot and wet cunt- always so inviting. "Lee- faster please." And as always Leon obeys your command, picking up his pace. Grabbing onto your hips pulling you into him with every harsh thrust. The sound of your connection echoing throughout the room, as your moans and his grunts of pleasure surround the two of you.

"God your always so good to me." Manhandling you once again to have you on your stomach, face down into the ground and your ass up. As he bullies his cock in and out of you, one of his hands leave you traveling up to your neck pulling you towards his chest- the perfect place for him to lean down and whisper into your ear. "Taking me like such a good girl. Love you." voice rough with exertion as his lust makes his voice sound like a near growl. In your pleasure riddled mind you respond with a mewl of "I love you too." In and out your mind is filled with nothing but the pleasure that Leon was bringing you, your cunt perfectly molding to his cock, become the perfect sleeve for him. A more depraved thought was brought up from deep within your mind. Should Leon want it, you would become nothing but a sweet little personal cock-sleeve to use whenever he pleased. Bending you over wherever he saw fit, maybe one day you would tell him this but for now you surrendered yourself to the now mind-numbing pace of Leon's thrusts. Your moans had risen in pitch as the intoxicating sensation of reaching your peak swelled within the pit of your tummy. Your hands desperately latched onto him, one hanging off the hand around your neck the other digging into his thigh. "Fuck- that's it, cum on my cock like a good girl." Not even a moment later you are cumming hard around him, mind blanking out as white hot pleasure rolls through your body. Your cunt convulsing around his cock and warbled moan falls from Leon's lips as soon as he cums, pulling you completely against him, as you both get lost in the feeling of Leon filling you up some of it stubbornly leaking out of you. Sweet kisses from Leon's lips bring you back down from your high, his arms keeping you secure against him. "I love you, you did so good for me my love." and there you both stay for a little while longer just relishing within the most intimate embrace one being can have with another.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed. And Sorry for not posting in such a long time hopefully this makes up for my absence :)

#x reader #fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #smut #leon s kennedy #reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #leon kennedy #re4 #resident evil 4 #leon x reader #leon x you #female reader #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #happy halloween #leonkennedy #resident evil #claire redfield #redfield siblings #vampire leon kennedy #leon x reader smut #leon smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut

[mirisss]

Haunting Shadows

Vampire! Mafia! Ateez OT8 x afab! reader

Wordcount ≈ 1.9k

Warnings: Bullying, angst, mentions of weapons, blood, wanting to rip someone’s throat out (they’re vampires and mafia, blood and violence is unavoidable), violence, 

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! 

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

Eight vampires stand proud in the night, looking over the land they grew up on centuries ago. These vampires are known as Ateez, the leaders of a large mafia group that controls a large chunk of this country. Ateez is, as mentioned, made up of eight members. Kim Hongjoong - the leader, or captain if you will. Park Seonghwa - the second in command, the oldest. Jeong Yunho, Song Mingi, and Choi Jongho - the enforcers. Kang Yeosang - The spy and tracker. Jung Wooyoung - The Communicator, the spokesman. And, Choi San - the weapon connoisseur. For centuries, these eight men have stayed together, bound not only by the promise they made for the group but also by the bond the moon gifted them. Throughout the years, there was a void in that bond, a missing piece. Finally, after searching for centuries they finally found it. The missing piece. It was a human girl, or woman, known as (Y/n). 

(Y/n) was warm and happy, as beautiful as a blood-red rose. She was the moon that lit up the dark night sky, enveloping the eight vampires in a warm light known as love. While (Y/n) wasn’t too happy to hear that her soulmates were the leaders of a mafia, she was still happy to be with them, albeit a little scared at first to find out they were vampires. Now, after 3 years though, (Y/n) fears almost nothing. The one thing she fears is for the safety of those who dare consider hurting her as she knows her eight soulmates will not be merciful. 

(Y/n) is studying at a prestigious university, not that she would need to considering her soulmates’ wealthy fortune the human girl however still wished to finish her education. Every morning, Wooyoung makes sure that (Y/n) eats a good breakfast and Seonghwa always prepares lunches for her - all to make sure she can focus during her lectures and while studying. Yunho drove her to university and always picked her up. Yeosang always sat with her while she studied so she didn’t feel alone. Jongho usually stands guard outside the library the boys kept in their mansion to make sure no one disturbed them. San and/or Mingi would give her a massage and a snack after she had studied - they said it would help her remember but they truly only wanted to make (Y/n) happy. And Hongjoong would buy and/or make outfits for her that truly were unique and just her style. 

Lately though, (Y/n) doesn’t seem too excited about going to school like she used to or in general. Her smiles seem fake, they don’t reach her eyes anymore. Her pheromones have changed. She doesn’t radiate light and warmth as she once did, no it’s cold and sad. She isn’t as affectionate anymore, she pulls away from the boys - she tried to say that she’s just tired or stressed over school. But the boys suspect that something else is going on. So they decide to follow her to school, without (Y/n) knowing though. 

Yunho’s POV

After dropping (Y/n) off at the entrance of the university building, I waved to her as usual before getting back in the car and driving away. Though, instead of going home I drove just around the block were I met the rest of the guys. “Her pheromones spiked with anxiety when I dropped her off, usually she sends out calmness or excitement,” Hongjoong’s eyes flashed from brown to a glowing red, a sign of his anger. Even Seonghwa’s eyes flashed, that doesn’t bode good, he and Yeosang are known as the calm ones of our gang so triggering them… Well, usually ends in bloodshed. “We should go, come on, let’s shift” After Hongjoongs order we all shifted into our shadow forms, hiding in the darkness of the shadows around us. 

Yeosang’s POV

The eight of us crept around and tried to find (Y/n). There were so many scents that it was hard to pick hers out, I led the group around using my best tracking skills when suddenly I caught her scent. “She’s close,” “Is she alone?” “I don’t know yet, hold on…” I answered Jongho before I crept a bit closer, focusing on her scent and the sound of her breathing. “No, there’s a group of about 5-6 people around her, she’s really stressed,” “Okay, let’s make a plan… Wooyoung, San, do your thing,” Wooyoung and San had both been blessed with the ability to slightly alter their looks, making it easier for them to be out and about talking with people. I was blessed with even more hightened senses and a stronger tracking ability than the others, hence making me a perfect spy and tracker. 

San’s POV

Woo and I morphed, changing part of our facial structure and hair colors. Making sure (Y/n) wouldn’t recognize us, once finished with our disguises we stepped out of the shadows walking toward the room where our soulmate was being cornered. As we walked inside, my blood boiled. I had to fight all my insticts to keep my eyes from flashing red. (Y/n) was sitting on the floor, her back pushed into a wall, with four girls and a guy standing around her laughing. One of the girls, held a cup in her hand that I suspected was empty based on the fact that (Y/n) was dripping wet with a liquid that was most likely coffee based on its scent. (Y/n) was clearly crying. I heard Wooyoung slightly growl, I hit him on the arm to bring him back in control. “Come on,” 

Wooyoung’s POV

I wanted to rip their throats out for what they had done, but that would have to wait… I took a deep breathe to collect myself, time to find out what’s going on. San and I began talking loudly as we walked into the room, San holding a paper that we looked at and then at each other. The girls around (Y/n) instantly turned to look at us, gasping at how handsome we looked. They rand over to us, chatting loudly, how annoying. “Hey, pretty. What’s going on here?” I asked a girl, pretending to flirt with her. “Oh, nothing much, just putting an insignificant bug in her place,” I forced out a laugh, clenching my fists to keep myself from wrapping it around the girls throat and choking her. San and I managed to lure the group away from (Y/n), finding out more on why they were doing this and for how long they had been doing it. 

Yeosang’s POV

I focused my senses on Wooyoung and San, waiting for them to give me a signal. After only 2 minutes of waiting, I got the signal meaning (Y/n) was alone. “We can go in,” We crept through the shadows into the room where we found (Y/n) crying on the floor, drenched in coffee. 

Seonghwa’s POV

After we had crept into the room I made sure to close the door before coming out into the light. Luckily, I had suspected something like this could have happened and brought some new clothes for (Y/n) and a towel with me. “Darling, it’s okay, we’re here now, everything will be fine,” (Y/n) looked up at me and the others in the room, her beautiful eyes stained red from tears. “Honey, come here. Let’s get you dry and into some new clothes,” “HOW come you didn’t TELL us about this?” I turned to Hongjoong, giving him a glare for raising his voice at her to which he apologized and took a step back. “I’m sorry,” “No, don’t be darling, this isn’t your fault. Here’s some new clothes. I thought about this in a hurry so I didn’t grab your clothes but some of mine and I think Mingi’s,” (Y/n) grabbed the clothes from me and then Mingi and I held the towel up to cover her as she changed. 

Jongho’s POV

My heart broke seeing (Y/n) look so sad. I just wanted to hug her, hold her close, whisper that it would be okay, or quietly sing for her. All to make her feel better. Soon she had changed into dry clothes and she carefully took the towel from Hwa and Mingi to wrap it around her head. I saw my chance to walk over to her, opening my arms, and inviting her for a warm hug. (Y/n) instantly gave me a tiny smile before opening her own arms, wrapping them around me, to which I did the same. A quiet knock was heard on the door, it was, for us vampires, clearly San and Wooyoung who had returned so we simply said come in even though the door was locked. The two could come inside through the shadows, which they did. (Y/n) relaxed a little more into my embrace as she saw the two missing members of our group. 

Mingi’s POV

As San and Wooyoung rejoined us in the room, it was easy to sense the shift in (Y/n)’s emotions as her pheromones became just a little bit sweeter, indicating that she was feeling better. I also wanted to comfort her and myself, I was so worried I could barely control my strength on the way here - there might or might not be a few dented streetlights on one of the paths leading to this school. I walked over, gently enveloping (Y/n) from behind, sandwiching her between Jongho and myself. “I love you,” She whispered, it was for us all but I felt a bit special to hear it right after embracing her. 

Hongjoong’s POV

San and Wooyoung rejoined us and told all of us that the girls had picked on (Y/n) because they had seen ‘a hot boy driving her’ - aka, Yunho - something she apparently didn’t deserve and they wanted her to be miserable because of it. The animalistic side of me, clawed at my brain, wanting to just go out there and rip them apart but I pushed it aside. Getting (Y/n) home was my priority. “Let’s go home, we’ll take care of this later. Those girls won’t dare touch you again… They should be happy that we got here before they did anything even worse,” After getting back home to our mansion (Y/n) told us that the girls had convinced her that she didn’t deserve them and that we only kept her around because she was our mate. We comforted her and told her that the girls were wrong. We love (Y/n) for being (Y/n). 

A few days later, those girls quit the program at the university and moved away. (Y/n) knew that we had something to do with it, but not exactly what happened… we simply had a conversation with them where they accidentally saw both some of our guns and fangs and even claws. Let’s just say they ran away terrified, promising to never ever harm another being again.  

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #vampire au #mafia au #ateez vampire #ateez mafia #ateez poly #ateez ot8 x reader #ateez x female reader #atz #atz x reader #atz x female reader #atz ot8 #atz ot8 x reader #mirisss #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader