#I will explain in any level of detail you need | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catboyieejeno · 5 months

Text

seventeen reaction ˚୨୧⋆˚

⋆ hhu ver.

oddly specific details/key points of their relationship with you

cw: sfw, 'girl' is only mentioned once in wonwoo's, mentions a period once, and mentions showering together in mingyu's but it's not sexual, npr!

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ seungcheol

⋆ seungcheol, who refuses to wake you up when he leaves early for practice/schedules, no matter how much you insist that he should.

when you bring it up, he always promises you that he will next time, and in that moment, he really isn't lying! he fully intends on fulfilling your wishes and waking you up to let you know he'll be heading out; in fact, there's nothing he wants more than to selfishly wake you and bid you a proper goodbye each and every morning he has to leave for work. except on the day of, when his alarm rings at nearly six in the morning, his plans change completely. he spends the better part of an hour talking himself up to the grueling task ahead of him, reminding himself that you literally want him to wake you up.

after he's showered, gotten ready, and is moments away from heading out, seungcheol's eyes land on you, face poking out under all the blankets that you love hogging, cheeks smushed and drool gathering at the corner of your lip. that's when he realizes he doesn't have it in him to disturb your slumber, and he probably never will. ultimately, he breaks his promise, settling instead for leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and a note or text where he expresses his apology and explains that you deserved the rest. secretly enjoys the earful he gets later, and makes it up to you so sweetly.

⋆ seungcheol, who doesn't let you lift a finger when it's not necessary: "don't worry, i'll take care of it."

it doesn't matter to seungcheol that everyone sees him as responsible and reliable—what really matters to him, is that you see it, too. has no problem with you being independent, but he definitely feels a healthy surge of pride at the prospect of being able to facilitate things for you. having you depend on him, or at the very least having you know you can depend on him for anything, is so important to him. no task is too grueling, and babying you is a partner privilege i can't see him not indulging in. the members definitely call him out for it if it ever happens in front of them, but he could not care less.

if your car needs an oil change, he'll go get it done while you're taking a nap so you don't have to worry about it later. if he notices any laundry piling up throughout the week, he'll do it while you run an errand so that you have one less thing to do when you get home. if you want to redecorate or renovate something, he's invested in your ideas, learning how build complicated furniture and polish floor tiles—anything it takes he'll do, as long as it means he can make you happy. very much an 'acts of service' kind of guy.

⋆ seungcheol, who calls everyday to check-in.

it might seem like it's the bare minimum, but when he works the job that he does and is as busy as he is, knowing that he puts time aside to call you throughout the day is so, so meaningful. especially when he's in a different time zone, staying up late into the night or getting before the sun so that he can wish you a good morning/night. always asks if you've eaten, what you're planning to do that day, etc. and he'll talk to you until he's confident that you don't feel neglected in any way. you're never a second thought to him, and he wants to make sure you feel like he's dedicating time and attention to you, even when he's not physically there to do so.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wonwoo

⋆ wonwoo, who replaces all of your favorite things the moment they run out.

the level of attention to detail he has for things involving you is both concerning and extremely endearing. he's so attentive to you and remembers all of the things you like and dislike. at the start of your relationship, it was pretty subtle: keeping your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up at his apartment for when you came over or buying a few pairs of shorts or sweats (since you’re obviously wearing his shirts) for when you’d stay the night. keeps them neatly folded in a drawer for you to wear on days need to cover up a bit more, like if Mingyu is around.

eventually, this evolves into restocking your favorite shampoo and conditioner when he's showered at yours and noticed you're out. same goes for your favorite perfume that's running low, and other house-hold things like your detergent or your favorite candle.

always makes sure you're taken care of during outings—brings hair ties and little battery-powered fans for hot days, and on cold winter days, opens his jacket so you can hug his waist and he can wrap it around you, swaying the two of you side to side. presses his cheek against yours to warm it up or kisses the icy tip of your nose.

⋆ wonwoo, whose love language is ambiguous

not only is he receptive to any love language you may have, he is somehow amazing at giving you all five (regardless of which one is your actual favorite).

gift giving? the most thought-through, special gifts for his special girl, as frequent as he deems necessary, too, because you deserve nothing less. quality time? one of his favorite things is sitting with you in a comfortable silence, making occasional jokes and comments to get you to crack a grin. a smile is his favorite look on you. acts of service? waters your plants, cooks for you, cleans or organizes things just how you like them so that you're at your most comfortable, massages your shoulders and feet after long days, runs warm, scented baths—you name it, he does it. physical touch? scoops you into his lap because he's obsessed with how warm you are, and the way your weight feels on him is so, so infatuating. likes leaving light and airy kisses on your cheek or pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. all of his kisses take your breath away, but the ones on your shoulder where he mumbles soft confessions of love are particularly awe-spiring. words of affirmation? don't be fooled by his quietness—he always has something he's eager to say to you, and if it's to pay you a compliment, there is no restriction to his words. loves telling you just how happy you make him, how pretty you are, how you're his safety-net and his soulmate and all of his favorite things put in one.

⋆ wonwoo, who sets aside time for you

you'd never have to ask him to put a book down or hop off a game. the moment you appear, he's putting everything aside to greet you and hold you and ask how you've been. if you're upset or sad, he'll glue himself to your side until you feel better. he seems like the type of person who feels very deeply for the people he cares about, so it's extremely important to him that you are always feeling your best, for his sake and yours. listens so deeply to your concerns and complaints for any matter—whether it's in an argument and you're sharing your views, or after a bad day at work where you ramble and rant about what went wrong.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mingyu

⋆ mingyu, who is impatient when it comes to you

he's understanding of the fact that the two of you cannot always be together, considering his career and the fact that you're also busy at times; regardless, he has an inability to be away from you for longer than a few hours. it’s endearing, his neediness showing in the form of longing text messages or voice notes where he whines and mumbles, “what are you doing? i miss youuuu,”

his impatience is also evident in person, like how he runs up to the door when he hears your keys jingling because he's that eager to greet you. most of the time if he's cooking or tasting something, you end up tasting the food on his lips because he's never patient enough to wait until he swallows a bite of food before he kisses you.

⋆ mingyu, who is so gentle and thoughtful with you

loves pampering you, whether its by scrubbing your shampoo into your scalp as he sits behind you in a hot bath, or getting up before you to bring you breakfast in bed. most of the time, showering together isn't even sexual; he'll hold you close and mumble soft compliments or talk about his day, wrap you in a towel when you get out, dry your hair for you, apply lotion, whatever your regular routine is— and he truly enjoys every part of it. if he comes home after you've fallen asleep, he'll make sure your phone is plugged in and any alarms you may need are on. finishes any tasks around the house you may have forgotten to do prior to your slumber, like folding clothes you left in the dryer or washing any dishes in the sink.

treats you as if you were made of glass, covering the corners of tables when you walk by or holding your hand while you cross the street. pouts while he takes care of you if you're sick or injured, cooing and bandaging your cuts and scrapes or insisting you take your medicine around the clock and rest (perhaps even excessively... you could have seasonal allergies, and he'll still scold you for wanting to get out of bed).

⋆ mingyu, who dedicates a section of his phone to you

loves candid pictures and loves your face. simple.

there's a hidden photo album on his phone with all the pictures he has of you and with you and there are various playlists dedicated to you, too. any song that reminds him of you is on a playlist with a cheesy name. another playlist consist of songs he knows you like or even thinks you might like. plays these for you on drives where his hand clutches yours and the windows are down.

if you're an individual who gets their period, he has your period tracker on his phone so he can plan accordingly and make sure he's extra sweet to you around that time. has recipes you like/he wants to make for you set aside in a pinterest board or bookmarked on his search page. also keeps your favorite shopping apps with the cart full of things you mentioned so he can get them for you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vernon

⋆ vernon, who can't watch shows without you

there's certain tv shows that he completely avoids unless you're there to watch them with him. even if the guys beg him to watch it, he'll refuse and lock himself in his room so there's no chance it might be spoiled. when he's with you though? a few nights of the week, the two of you sit down with snacks and sugary drinks to watch your favorite series together like an old married couple watching their nightly programs.

loves when you you curl up in his lap, both of you wrapped under one blanket with your head resting on his shoulder and his arms circled around you. his gasps and laughs and overall reactions are so loud by your ear but it's adorable and it's such a domestic and comfortable experience. it feels very familiar, and more often than not, both of you prefer this to going out.

⋆ vernon, who rests the best when he's around you

needs his afternoon naps, but specifically, he needs them with you. limbs tangled and light conversation before you drift off that just becomes slurred, pointless babbling. quiet snores and soft breaths take over as the early afternoon hours go by. just the warmth of having you near makes his heart so happy and his rest so fulfilling, especially before practice or after long hours of travelling.

it's a treat to wake up beside him after these catnaps, too. the sleepy features and tousled hair are so very boyfriend, and the way he looks at you when his eyes peek open is so cute.

⋆ vernon, who always tries new things with you

a yes man, any time, all of the time. whether you ask to go on a grocery run at two in the morning or a hike at dawn, he's saying yes. whenever you want to try something new, vernon is your partner in crime and your greatest alliance. he's not only your boyfriend, but your best friend, and it makes everything so fun. always puts a smile on your face, too. he's so goofy and easy going that it's difficult to not feel great around him.

enthusiastic and supportive when you wanna try new hobbies. always asks so many questions so you know he's interested and invested, and will get you any tools or resources you need to excel. trying new foods and restaurants is also high up on the list of things the two of you like to do. he might like keeping a little list of your favorite spots so he can find similar ones to try with you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

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girlboypersonthingy · 3 months

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Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining

I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~

Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one

TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out

🪽The King of Pining🪽

This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.

“So…what’s the news?�� Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”

Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.

“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.

Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.

You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.

“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.

When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.

“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.

“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.

“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”

As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?

“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.

~night of the party~

You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…

A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.

“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.

Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.

Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.

From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.

With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.

“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.

“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”

Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.

Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.

“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”

Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.

The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.

Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.

“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“

You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.

Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.

Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.

With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.

“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.

“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

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Aemond x Baratheon daughter!reader. They are planning teh wedding and reader hears that there will be a bedding ceremony on the night of their marriage. She talks to the queen about it but she can’t do shit. She gets anxious and Aemond notices it so he ask why and she tells him that she’s uncomfortable about the bedding ceremony so Aemond personally asks Viserys to not have one

Warnings: arranged marriage, mention of bedding ceremony

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When the prince Aemond set foot in Storm's End and offered to take one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters in a marriage pact in exchange for swords and banners alongside the Greens, you didn’t know a bedding ceremony would be part of the pact. You had been flattered when the prince chose you over your sisters. The idea of being ‘sold’ to another Lord in marriage always made you uneasy, but the prince was tall, handsome, and kind to you.

Moons later, as you were discussing the preparations of your and Aemond’s wedding, you found yourself wishing he had taken one of your four sisters.

‘’A bedding ceremony?!’’ you repeated, feeling your stomach churn at the thought of having intercourse with spectators watching.

You tried to not think too much about it, telling yourself that if you closed your eyes during it, it would pass fast. But come the week of the wedding, it was all you could think about.

Shortly after your arrival in King’s Landing, you requested to speak to the Queen. Mayhaps she could do something about it?

‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I do not wish to do…that, your Grace.’’

If you had voiced your complaint to your father, you doubted he would have cared. A bedding ceremony was not embarrassing for the man. Quite the contrary, he was praised during the act. But the Queen was a woman. You hoped she would understand you, or at least have some compassion.

The Queen sighed as she sat on the camel-back couch before you, knowing the mortifying experience that is the bedding ceremony. Especially for a woman. ‘’Unfortunately, it is a Westerosi wedding tradition. I’m afraid I cannot do anything about it, sweetie.’’

‘’A perverted tradition...’’ you whispered, not thinking she would hear you.

‘’I agree,’’ she said softly, her eyes filled with empathy. ‘’Unfortunately, we must submit to men's perversion.’’ Her words hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth that neither of you could escape.

A public defloration was something that — some — people enjoyed. Including your father. Lord Borros needed proof that the marriage had been consummated before sending his men to the Greens. He didn’t want to give them his men and get tricked in return.

The evidence of the growing affection between you and Aemond wasn’t sufficient.

Speaking of Aemond, he came knocking on your door after his afternoon duties.

‘’Come in.’’

Usually, seeing him put a smile on your face, but today, you didn’t bother to open the door. You stayed sitting by the large window giving on the gardens, your eyes casted on your lap as you fidgeted with a thread from your dress.

Stepping inside, Aemond frowned, seeing you sitting by yourself. ‘’I apologize for not coming to greet you sooner. I was held back,’’ he explained briefly, not wanting to bore you with the details of his duties.

‘’All is good, my Prince,’’ you said flatly.

Aemond walked over to you, suspecting by your tone that something was upsetting you. He sat beside you and gently, he covered your hands with his, stopping your anxious play with the thread. ‘’What is it that is upsetting you, my love? Is it the wedding?’’ he asked, noticing the tension that seemed to wrap around you like a suffocating cloak.

You shook your head. The wedding itself was a moment you were looking forward to — truly. It was the hours that followed that made your anxiety spike to unbearable levels.

All these pairs of eyes on your naked body, observing — and judging. It made you sick.

‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I…I’m already scared of the bedding itself,’’ you confess, your voice small and insecure. ‘’I do not want to make my first time a spectacle.’’

Aemond nodded, understanding. ‘’I’m not comfortable about this either. But it is part of my duty as husband.’’

‘’I spoke to your mother about it. Her Grace said there is no possibility of getting out of it…’’ A single tear slipped down your face, the sight pinching at Aemond’s heart.

‘’Have you spoken to your father? Mayhaps he—’’

‘’My father requests it.’’

Aemond brought your hands to his lips, kissing them. ‘’I’ll speak to mine. Not to compare, but he holds more power than yours.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

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#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon

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in-sufficientdata · 10 months

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This can be a huge source of medical trauma and it's so cruel that it's being imposed on people by the medical establishment itself. How can they help but feel anything but helpless? There's no fighting that.

I can't help but think of this from my own perspective as a fibromyalgia patient who keeps having to fight being thought of as (or even being labeled as) drug-seeking.

I am literally just trying to live life closer to the standard that 'normal' people have every day.

Why is it in any way fair that most people are mostly pain-free and capable of doing the things they want to do, but I have to suffer with pain on a daily basis that is at minimum, on a very rare, very good day, at level 5?

Why is it when I report that my pain level is at level 7, 8, 9, I only get doctors side-eyeing me and explaining my OTC options?

I have had chronic pain since I was 8. I'm very fucking aware of my OTC options, so no thank you, doc.

And when I spend 20 minutes explaining in detail that my daily pain has noticeably increased and changed in quality since around January 1st, why should I have my PCP giggle at me every time I say that I need help with managing my pain and learning ways to deal with it?

It felt incredibly invalidating and I wish he would have said, look, I don't have the expertise to help you, so here's a referral to a pain specialist.

I only found out there was a such thing by trying to research the topic after this on my own!

So yeah, it's not just the insurance companies, it's the doctors, too.

It's almost like having a profit-motivated medical establishment hurts patients.

#LizMelrath@twitter #twitter #death cw #cancer cw #chronic illness #chronically ill #chronic #fibromyalgia #doctors #microaggressions #reposting everything from my twitter feed #i'm about to delete everything so get it while it's hot #tweet: 2022 #molly's mad life

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throneofsapphics · 8 months

Text

the ebb and flow of fate

Cazriel x f!Reader (Mor’s sister)

(part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)

Summary: “Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened.

“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.”

Word Count: ~6.2k

Warnings: eventual smut in later chapters, sexual assault, harassment, stalking, nightmares, light smut-ish (m/m, briefly described), light angst, liberal use of bargains, minors dni!

A/N: this was written for day 20 of my kink/angst-tober prompts but, my patience is limited and I needed to get this out of into the world and out of my brain for a bit. part 2 will be posted 10/20.

Something in her had been … off, ever since she visited a friend in the Autumn Court. Of course, they had all heavily protested her choice, but she’d been a friend of hers for years, and she firmly held her ground - insisting everything would be fine and that they didn’t know of her relation to them.

It was driving all of them to the verge of insanity trying to figure out exactly what happened. Rhys gently probed against her mind once, and was immediately shut out - the walls going up like impenetrable iron gates, and a litany of creative curses were shouted down the hall.

“How was your visit?” Mor asked hesitantly. She was curled up in an armchair, eyes quickly scanning the page, a full plate of food - likely a few hours old, still on the table beside her.

“Fine.” Y/n replied, not looking up. The same answer she’d given everyone all week.

“Any more details?” She probed.

She slammed the book shut, looking up at her. “What else do you want me to say?” Her voice was low, and she could tell her anger was rising to dangerous levels. Maybe it would be worth provoking y/n’s temper, if only to get some kind of reaction out of her.

“You won’t eat, you won’t talk to us, and you’re walking around like a gods-damned ghost.”

She plucked a grape from the plate next to it, popping it in her mouth with an indignant look on her face. “Better?” Gods, she was going to kill her - sister or not.

“I want you to tell me what the fuck happened before Rhys and I storm over there and kill someone.” Mor spat, rising to her feet. Y/n rose with her, throwing the blanket off, fists clenched at her side.

“That’s not necessary.”

“You can tell us anything, you know that right?” She tried to keep her voice gentle, soft even.

“I’m aware,” she snipped, “but that doesn’t mean it’s any of your business.”

“For Cauldron’s sake.” She ran a hand through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut before leaving the room - in case she said or did anything she regretted.

“Any luck?” Rhys asked from the end of the hallway.

“Don’t act like you weren’t eavesdropping.”

He grimaced, but turned to stride with her. “It’s been three days.” He said quietly, “Cassian and Azriel will be back tomorrow.”

If anyone can get answers out of her, it would be those two. Even Amren couldn’t reach her.

“Where’s y/n?” Cassian asked the next day. Mor looked to Rhys with a grimace. A shadow curled around Azriel’s ear.

“In her room probably.” Mor replied. The same place she’d spent most of her time in.

“Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened.

“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.”

He relayed the message, and they all heard the sound of something slamming - along with a wince from Rhys. Mor figured she’d likely shouted something into his mind. Two minutes passed, and nothing. Cassian glanced at Azriel, and the two Illyrians rose - heading down the hall.

“Good luck.” Mor muttered behind them and Rhys snorted.

“What’s wrong with you?” Cassian’s voice echoed through the room as her door swung open - hitting the wall hard enough there might be a small dent.

“Nothing.” She muttered, turning over in her bed and tugging the blankets closer to her. Azriel exchanged a look with him.

“Get up.” Cassian barked.

“Fuck off.”

“Not happening princess.” He strode towards the side of the bed, ripping the blanket back. He was greeted by a book careening towards his face, one he deflected with a shield. “You can do better than that.” He tugged the pillow out from under her and she shot up to sit. His stance widened, feet braced on the floor - prepared for a fight.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” Y/n said through gritted teeth.

Cassian hummed, tilting his head as if he was debating it. “No.”

“On your feet or over his shoulder, your choice.” Azriel said from behind him. His voice was flat and smooth. Another book launched - where the hell had it come from? And Cassian let it fly over his head, knowing exactly who it was aimed for. A low snarl came from the corner of the room, and Azriel strode up to stand next to him, forming a wall. Y/n, of course, didn’t look intimidated and no fear came from her - but he did see caution in her eyes.

“You’re a brat.” The shadowsinger commented, with a tilt of his head. A predator assessing her, waiting for her next move.

She sent him a vulgar gesture, and apparently Azriel was fed up because quicker than she could react, he had her slung over his shoulder, stalking out her door with a shield covering his wings.

Smart, he thought as he followed, he didn’t doubt y/n would use that to her advantage. She’s done it before, raking her nails up his wings and nearly getting herself killed.

He deposited her at the table, shoving her down into the seat next to him before pushing it in. Cassian took up vigil on her other side. If he thought she was angry before, she was absolutely fuming now - sending both him and Azriel a look that promised a slow, slow death. He rolled his eyes, he’d been on the receiving ends of that look frequently, and it didn’t phase him.

“I thought it was over your shoulder.” Rhys’s voice flooded into his mind.

“Azriel took care of it.”

“Obviously. Did she throw anything at you?”

“Yes.” A strained chuckle came from Rhys, and he felt his presence leave.

She sat there, taking small sips of water and avoiding eye contact from anyone.

Cassian let out a low groan before filling her plate with food.

Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance, their eyes glazing over slightly. “We have things to take care of,” Mor gave an awkward excuse and they both rose. Leaving them to the wolves, then. Wolf - actually.

“Don’t make me feed you like a child.” Azriel told her when the two were out of earshot.

“You wouldn’t,” y/n countered, but didn’t sound confident. Azriel reached for her fork, and she snatched it away from him, spearing a piece of food instead and slowly raising it to her mouth.

“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Cassian asked her.

She ignored the question, choosing to eat small bites of food instead.

“Or I can go find out for myself,” Azriel offered.

“No,” she said too quickly. “Don’t.”

She was confident Azriel would go find out what happened, and that’s not what she wanted. Regardless of whether he heard it from her or figured it out himself, it wouldn’t go over well. But, if they were here when they did learn there’s a better chance of her de-escalating the situation.

“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Her hand shook, palms going clammy. She saw them exchange a worried look out of her peripherals and for some reason it incensed her further. She’d had enough of people worrying. Well, she fully knew she’d been acting like a ‘brat’ as Az would say for the last few days. But, in her defense they were all busy-bodies who couldn’t mind their own damn business.

“When will you be?” Cassian sounded … gentle, almost. Like she was some breakable doll. She firmly placed a lid down on her anger, shoving it away.

“I’ll let you know.”

“You have until tomorrow night.” Azriel cut in. With a low and obnoxious groan, she slumped in her seat. “Finish your food,” he directed. A particularly nasty look was shot his way, but she relented.

There’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d make her eat if she refused. The two of them were overbearing and annoying, but meant well. Y/n knew Rhys had sent them in, considering his, Mor’s and even Amren’s attempts had all failed.

“I thought you’d be happier to see us,” Cassian teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. “It’s been two weeks.”

“I am happy to see you,” she mumbled. It’s the truth, she was glad to see him, and if she’d actually known they were back she probably would’ve left to at least check they’re in one piece.

As soon as she’d cleared her plate, Cassian looped his arm in between hers - not giving her a chance to go anywhere. “We’re training.”

“I just ate.” She protested, but it didn’t work. Azriel trailed them outside, hopefully to make sure Cassian didn’t end up working her to the point she threw up.

She realized the mistake exactly as it happened, both arms raising for a block - and her shirt lifting as well. Revealing two yellowing hand print shaped bruises on her waist. She forced her expression to remain still, to not react, and hoped they hadn’t noticed. But, Cassian stilled. Eyes focused on where her shirt now covered her stomach. Y/n could’ve taken the opportunity to strike him, but didn’t.

“Where are those from?” He asked her, and she could tell he was struggling to keep his voice even. They’d caught Azriel’s attention as well, from where he was standing a few paces away from the ring. Based on the predatory look of rage in his eyes, he’d seen everything.

“None of -”

“Don’t.” The general cut in shortly.

“It’s fine.” She insisted, going on the defensive.

“Is that … part of what has you upset?” His throat bobbed, and she could tell he was trying very hard to keep himself calm. Y/n turned and ducked out of the ring, returning her sword to the rack. There was no use in lying to them, they both always knew when she was. And when she badgered them for her tells, they refused. So, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to deal with the fall out.

“Yes. I took care of it already.” Her voice shook with each word.

“What happened?” Azriel asked mildly.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and tilted her head back to look at the sky. She couldn’t look at them now, and didn't want to. Didn’t want the two of them to see her break down. Instead, she focused on the stars above her as the story spilled out. One of her friends' brothers had cornered her. She was in her early-twenties, and had never been interested in anyone. Not in that way. When the … opportunity came up she went along with it for a minute - even flirted harmlessly with him, but when he pressed and tried to push her for more, tried to get her to kiss him, and when he refused …

“That’s when,” she waved her hand down her stomach, “that happened. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t,” she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes as the story kept spilling out, of how he grabbed her breast, tried to stick his hand between her legs.

“And he called me a frigid bitch after I kneed him in the balls.” She finished weakly, forcing a laugh. The two of them had gone incredibly still, and she felt the tears drip from her cheeks onto her shirt. “I took care of it.” She insisted.

The ‘taking care of it’ worked for a day. Until he came back, thinking she was just playing with him - that she liked the ‘playing hard to get.’ The worst was her friend justifying it, when she brought it up to her.

“Well,” she hesitated, biting on her bottom lip. “You did flirt with him, how’s he supposed to know?”

“I told him to stop.” Y/n insisted.

“Just try telling him again.” She sighed. “I don’t want to get in a fight with him.” She told him, again, over the next three days.

“There’s more.” Azriel said. Gods, he always knew - even if she was just omitting something. “All of it. I need to hear all of it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She yelled, the anger she’d kept a firm lid on spilling out as tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to think about it, I want it to be over.”

Cassian strode towards her, wrapping her in his arms and bringing her close to his chest, rubbing her back and holding her through her sobs. Cool shadows swirled around her neck and shoulders, and she recognized Azriel’s way of comforting her.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, face still pressed into his chest.

“None of that,” he replied, running a hand through her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

She snorted, pushing back against him. “You’re growing soft.”

“Just for you,” he grinned but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Y/n yelped as she was gently tugged away from him, instead bundled into Azriel’s arms, his fingers running through her hair and shadows still curling around her. Probably reporting her expressions even as he couldn’t see her face. “Can you tell me now?”

She exhaled slowly. She wouldn’t get out of this, so she might as well tell him. “He just didn’t know how to take the hint. He thought I was playing with him.” Azriel tensed underneath her, and she scented the pure rage coming from both of the Illyrians and knew if she didn’t say anything else someone in the Autumn court would find their immortal life cut short. “I told him if he didn’t stop I would stab him.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, but didn’t release her - instead holding her tight as if she might disappear at any moment.

“Don’t -,” she took in a breath, “don’t tell anyone else.” She pushed back, tilting her head to see his expression. He looked troubled by it and glancing over to Cassian told her he’s feeling the same way. “Please.”

They looked at each other, as if they were communicating something silently, and nerves hit her - crawling under her skin and swirling in her stomach. She took another step back, forcing Azriel’s arms to hang back by his sides.

“We’ll make a deal, with a few conditions.” Cassian said, and strode closer to her, standing next to Azriel to make a wall formed of pure arrogance. She groaned internally. “If you don’t agree. We’ll tell him.”

She crossed her arms, pressing her lips together. “What are they?”

“Firstly, they’re non negotiable.” He waited for her nod before continuing. “You don’t visit them again. If you want to see her, she comes here.”

“I’d have to go through Rhys for that.” He gave her a look, as if to say - “that’s your problem,” and she rolled her eyes.

“Second. No more hiding.”

“I wasn’t -”

“Yes you were.” Azriel cut in, raising an eyebrow at her glare. “Rhys told us.”

“He needs to learn to mind his business.” She muttered and Cassian snorted.

“If he didn’t tell us, we would’ve figured it out. You don’t miss meals.”

“I could have just wanted to eat in private.”

“For three days in a row?” He crossed his arms.

“Mind your damn business.”

“Enough.” Azriel cut off the quickly budding argument between the two of them. He’s always been the mediator between the two of them - both ‘blessed’ with quick tempers.

She wheeled on him instead. “And you have to promise not to tell him.” She needed to be very clear on that, otherwise he would take the loophole and exploit it. He looked conflicted, but ended up promising - unless it somehow escalates, but considering she’ll never see him again - she doubts it will.

“Is that everything?”

“One more. Anyone does that to you again, you tell us.”

“As long as you don’t tell anyone else without my permission permission.” They exchanged another look, and both nodded. She stared at them for a few seconds. “It’s a bargain.”

She fought her smile as she was on the receiving end of twin glares. Apparently they hadn’t intended for it to go that far, but now she knew their word was good.

“Brat.” Cassian muttered, but started searching for the tattoo.

She shoved up her sleeves. Nothing on her arms. But, felt a tiny prick on chest, and strode towards the mirror, adjusting her shirt to see. Some kind of constellation was etched into her skin, spreading across her collarbones in a pattern she didn’t recognize. Azriel and Cassian had matching ones - it took them a minute to figure it out, especially with their leathers in the way, but small dots were interwoven with the tattoos already lining their chests.

“It’s … feminine.” Cassian commented.

“Nothing wrong with that,” she raised a brow at him.

“Nothing wrong with it.” He quickly agreed.

“I think they’re pretty,” she teased, poking his chest.

“Did you figure it out?” Rhys asked later as the three of them met in his office.

Cassian’s hand ran down his face. “We did.”

“And what is it?”

“We can’t tell you.” Azriel replied through gritted teeth.

Rhys paused for a moment, before raising his brows. “You let her trick you into a bargain? I thought you would’ve known better.” Both of them bristled. Ever since y/n figured out what a bargain was, she managed to word things carefully enough they’d get wrapped into them. Rhys still remembers the first time he met her, back when she was a youngling and before they managed to get her out of the Court of Nightmares.

“Mor said you could fly,” she whispered - low enough nobody else could hear. She looked up and saw the hesitant look on his face. “I can keep a secret.” She grinned. He gave her a quick nod.

He saw her again, a year later - now seven years old. “Could you take me flying?” He gave a subtle shake of his head, but every time she saw him she would ask, and eventually he caved.

“I’ll make a deal with you, you stop asking - and I’ll take you flying”

“It’s a bargain.” She whispered, and Rhys winced as a small band appeared around his upper arm, a matching one on her. That’s not supposed to happen … she shouldn’t be able to make those without both parties expliciting saying it.

They snuck her out the next day and took her, if only to keep anyone else from noticing the thin tattoo around her upper arm. He still remembered Mor half-heartedly lecturing her about the danger of making bargains - and not to go doing it with strangers.

Another idea popped into his head. “Did she say you can’t show me?”

Cassian winced. “I don’t-,” he turned to give Azriel a sharp look, “we don’t want to betray her trust. But it’s taken care of.”

Rhys nodded. He’d have to wiggle it out of her himself then, even if that’s nearly impossible. Besides, if the two of them break her trust like that, and she finds out … that would be a fight he doesn’t want to be anywhere near.

Mor promised to get her out of Hewn City, whenever she needed to. Y/n was eighteen when she left, when she moved to Velaris, met Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and started making friends in the city. She should’ve known any ‘friends’ she met living there … Y/n cut off that line of thinking, reminding herself it’s not her fault, in any way. But, her mind still swirls with all of the ways she possibly could have prevented it, or the different things she could have done. For gods sake, she’s told others countless times that it’s not their fault, and they’re in no way responsible for others actions, but she still gets caught in that spider web, in the dangerous abyss of her own thoughts caving in on her.

“Where’d you go?” Rhys interrupts her and she blinks heavily.

“Here and there.” She mutters, pushing some food around on her plate.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Him and Mor have stopped questioning her as frequently, but still try to put subtle feelers out to see if she will respond, or open up to them.

The words blurt out before she can think twice about them. “Can I speak with the priestesses again?”

His entire body tenses, his shoulders tightening and eyes darkening. She’d just given him a very clear idea of what happened while she was away.

The priestesses. He can only think of a few reasons why she’d want to speak with them. It could be related to her past, but more likely to some recent events. Barely, he manages to keep his composure.

“I’ll ask them.” His voice is short and he watches her worry her bottom lip.

“Please don’t do-”

“Anything rash?” He raises a brow, forcing a cool and neutral tone.

“I took care of it.” She insisted. Similar to what Azriel and Cassian said.

“Will you ever tell me? Or Mor? She’s worried sick.” Rhys knew it was a low blow, even as he said it.

“I’m tired of … I’m tired of talking about it.”

He wondered why she’d want to go to the priestesses, why she’d want to speak with them if she’s already sick of talking. But then again, he’s heard that sometimes they go into their offices just to cry or scream. Either way, he’s not going to deny her the chance, or that request. He knows without a doubt that they’ll agree to see her. They all love her there, and she spends a lot of her time studying in the archives. Technically that’s her official position in his court - to research, her mind is her greatest weapon.

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?”

“I wanted to make you feel useful.” He rolled his eyes, leaning over to flick her nose. She dodged it, swatting his hand away. “But if you’re going to complain I can ask them myself.’”

“Asking who?” Mor swept into the room, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. Rhys took that as his cue to leave, before he got caught into anything between the two sisters.

Y/n mouthed ‘traitor’ at Rhys’s retreating figure, when Mor wasn’t looking.

“I’m going to ask if I can speak with the priestesses again.”

“Oh.” She paused, before sitting down on the couch next to her, stretching her legs out in front. “Anyone in particular?”

She exhaled in relief, something Mor noticed but didn’t comment on.

“Not Merrill.” Y/n muttered, drawing a laugh out of Mor.

“Merrill has a good heart.”

“I deal with her enough already.” Y/n groaned, leaning her head back on the cushion.

“How is that going?” Mor switched subjects, navigating to safer areas. If she pushed too much on this topic … y/n might shut down again.

“Slowly. Traveling between worlds, Rhys is obsessed with it and translating some of the old texts takes hours.”

“Is he now?” She turned, interested, and gave her a small smile.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“I won’t snitch.”

“I won’t either.” She snipped back, but a small smile was on her face, and some mirth dancing in her eyes. She could’ve cried from relief - even if she has other things to think about now, about how she has a very clear idea of what happened. Part of her wants to lecture her sister about bargains, again.

Y/n was forced to stop hiding, the tattoo pricking into her skin every time it thought she was being a bit too reclusive. Still, she wondered if it really was a fair bargain - their silence in return for; not visiting her again, not hiding, and telling them if anyone does that again. She supposes that could mean several things, and they never specified a specific timeframe on when she would have to tell them. In her desperation for them to keep her confidence, she’d done something foolish and doubted they would let her out of that anytime soon. If ever.

The two of them can be just as tricky as she is, and just as likely to find loopholes. At least they wouldn’t use it against her with the intention to cause harm. She’d never make one of those with someone she doesn’t trust. Even if the wording is iron-clad, there’s always room for error. Most of the ‘bargains’ she’s made are always light-hearted.

Like making Rhys take her to fly, even if it was the shortest gods-damned flight of her life. Two minutes, if that - and under the cover of dark, after him and Mor snuck her out of Hewn City. Her very first taste of freedom. She was always kept away whenever the Inner Circle visited. Still, she managed to sneak away from the guards, learning how to create diversions and somehow give the impression she was still sleeping in her rooms, enchanting her toys to keep moving, or a pen to keep writing, a book to keep flipping its pages. They never caught her either. She wasn’t even born when Mor left. In fact, she wasn’t born until after Rhys took up his throne. Born into a ‘cleaned-out’ Hewn City, and grateful for it - she doesn’t want to know what it was like before.

Not many children were around, anyway. The friends she did make were the ones her parents encouraged her to, from foreign courts for the most part. People she’s unlikely to ever visit again. Technically, she could leave of her own accord - but that would mean whoever she’s visiting is going to have someone knocking on their door to drag her away.

A knock sounded on the door as she slumped back against her pillow, and she could sense Azriel was out there.

“Come in,” she called. There’s a fifty-fifty chance he’d enter anyway.

The door swung open, revealing him leaning against her doorway. “I heard you went to speak with the priestesses.”

Cutting right to the chase, then. “I speak with them every day. It’s part of my job description.”

His eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”

She groaned, pushing herself up to sit. “You don’t need to haunt the doorway, you can come in.”

“Last time I did, I recall a book launched my way.”

She held up both hands, showing there were no projectiles in reach. He still looked cautious as he entered, and took up a seat in one of the armchairs, right by her favorite window. She swung her legs over so she sat on the edge of her bed, propping her forearms on her thighs.

Azriel couldn’t help as his eyes shifted down ever so slightly to where her nightdress slipped down, showing the tops of the curves of her breasts. His gaze switched back up as quickly as possible, and somehow y/n didn’t catch the action - instead looking out towards the window. Good, the last thing he needs is to start ogling her, to give her the impression he’s coming onto her. There was something else he could do. He’d need to speak with Cassian.

“I’m proud of you,” he offered instead. Her head snapped, back to look at him. Her eyes were wide and he fought the urge to shift under her gaze.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a soft smile. A shadow curled around his ear, happy, happy, happy. It sang.

“What do they tell you?” She tilted her head, eyeing it.

“That you’re happy,” he said honestly.

She blinked twice, lips curving into an easy smile. “I suppose I am,” she finally answered.

“You should get some sleep.” He’d noticed the bags under her eyes, how she still seemed exhausted and worn down throughout the day. Azriel had told Cassian he needed to stop dragging her outside and beating her into the ground every day. He’s aware healing is different for each person, but it had been a month since she returned, and his worry only grew.

“That’s rude.” She frowned, but glanced at the mirror across from her bed. Interesting placement. “I do look like shit.”

He snorted. “You look tired, there’s a difference.”

“Sleep hasn’t … been easy.” He could tell it cost her something to admit that. Stubborn pride, just like her sister and cousin. And the rest of them, he supposed.

“Nightmares?” He prompted, and she nodded. He wouldn’t pry further, but made a mental note to send a shadow in later, to keep watch on her. Maybe it was an invasion of her privacy, but he didn’t particularly care. “I’m right down the hall,” he jerked his chin towards the door.

“I’m aware.” Another shadow curled around his ear, stay, stay, stay. “Is it too nosy if I ask about that one?” She teased.

“Maybe.”

She held her hand to her chest in mock surprise. “I suppose it’s your job to keep secrets.”

“I recall someone making a terrible bargain to keep something secret.”

Her face dropped, and he got the impression he said the wrong damn thing. “They’ve already figured it out.” She mumbled, eyes avoiding him. He hated that, hated when she wouldn’t look at him.

“That’s not a terrible thing.” He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck. He’s never been great at comforting, usually Cassian’s the one to do these kinds of things. Still, he found himself walking across the room, taking a seat next to her. On instinct, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his side.

She froze, went still for a brief moment, and he was about to move away when she leaned into him, her body relaxing. A few of his shadows swirled around her neck, and she hummed in content.

Another one curled around his ear, happy, stay. Maybe, for a minute or two.

Cassian went looking for Azriel, he wasn’t in his room - or downstairs or anywhere to be found, and tracked his scent off to y/n’s room, of all places. The door was already parted, and he nudged it open with his foot. Y/n was curled into his side, sound asleep in an awfully uncomfortable position. How tired did she have to be to sleep like that? Almost sitting up.

Azriel turned his head to look at him, his expression almost saying ‘I have no idea how I got here.’ He held a fist up to his face, fighting back a laugh, and ignoring his glare. He stalked over towards the duo, ignoring Az’s glare as he shook y/n’s shoulder.

“Stop holding him hostage.” He watched as her eyes opened, half lidded with sleep.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, hand coming up to hide a yawn.

Azriel moved his arm away, even if he seemed reluctant to do so, and he pushed back her shoulders so she’d actually lay down. “I don’t want to hear any complaints if your back hurts tomorrow.”

“Fuck off.” She yanked the blankets back over her, burrowing down into the pillows. It took barely a minute before she was sound asleep again, her breaths evening out, mouth slightly parted in sleep. Peaceful, she looked so peaceful, even with the bags still lining her eyes like horrible bruises.

Azriel tapped his shoulder, and he realized he’d been staring for a while. They quietly left, gently shutting the door closed behind them.

“You’ve gone soft.” He told the other male after they were out of earshot.

“I was just … comforting her, and she fell asleep.”

“Must be really tired, then.”

“She said she’s having nightmares.”

Mother above, Cassian wanted to storm the autumn court and bring her back that asshole’s head as a gift. In fact, he’d been debating it for the last few days - but, if anything it would distress her further. Y/n’s never been a violent person, in contrast to the rest of the inner circle. A good contrast. She thought he’d been training her more just to keep her from ‘hiding,’ but his mind was swirling with what else could’ve gone wrong, and if she would have been able to defend herself. Or why she threw herself in whole heartedly, pushing herself harder than ever.

“She’s been more ...” Cassian pressed his lips into a tightline, glancing behind him to make sure y/n wasn’t behind. “Dedicated, training wise.”

“I know.” Azriel replied quietly. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something else they didn’t know.

Her tattoo pricked at her as she opened the third letter in the past month. Addressed from her friend, like the last two, but something was different about this one - her name written differently, a small curve to the letters.

Her eyes scanned the page, picking out the key phrases.

I miss the fun we had. I know how much you enjoyed yourself.

You must, should visit at your earliest convenience.

There was only a general threatening atmosphere to the words - nothing outwardly against her safety. Only him … reminiscing on the past events, in uncomfortable detail. Harmless, she decided, even if her subconscious screamed against her. No pain ripped through her magic, also some guilt crept into her at the feeling - she was hiding it, using a loophole to get out of the agreement, not honoring the spirit of it.

With a low exhale, she justified it to herself, no need to worry the two of them - they were busy enough as is. Besides, she couldn’t trust them to keep their cool. The guilt would multiply if she knew violence was brought to her friend's doorway. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, and crumpled the paper - shoving it in a drawer and reminding herself to burn it later. It was dark, the sun already dipped below the horizon - only vague rays of pink and purple peeking up past the horizon. Her stomach grumbled, loud enough she snorted. That’s a clear signal she needs to grab something to eat.

She slipped out her door, closing it behind her with a gentle snick. She kept her footsteps as silent as she could as she trailed down the hallway, but she heard … moans - and groans coming from Azriel’s room. Did he have someone over? A small tinge of hurt filled her - not that he was hers, or she had any claim to him. Or Cassian. Why had her mind gone to both of them? “Ridiculous,” she quietly chided herself. She could manage to walk by the room, keep her eyes set right ahead - no need to look at the door or pause, she wouldn’t be nosy.

Her feet moved quickly, and she spotted the cracked open door in her peripheral, cursing him. Eyes forward, right ahead. No need to look.

But, she made the mistake of looking at the window, figuring it would be harmless.

Her mouth parted in shock as she saw Cassian, pressed back against Azriel who had one arm wrapped around his front - palming him through the leather pants. They were both shirtless, muscles toned and gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. Azriel’s other hand was fisted in the General’s hair, their lips crashing together in a violent and passionate kiss.

She hadn’t realized she was staring, arousal starting to creep into her, until a shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and his head snapped towards her. Cassian quickly followed, and she let out a small yelp - going bug eyed and taking off down the hall. She was not supposed to see that. Not at all … Mother above they need to close the damned door. Arousal flickered through her as she paused at the end of the hall - way out of range, bracing her hand against the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed away the feeling. She couldn’t want them. They were perfectly unavailable, and together, at least in some sense.

Did Rhys and Mor know? She wouldn’t be the one to tell them. Her mind flashed with more images;

Azriel panting as Cassian knelt in front of him. Azriel hauling him to his feet - throwing him over the side of the bed …

“Stop it.” She muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose and darting her gaze around the hall. No one to witness, good. She couldn’t remember why she left her room, but she wouldn’t be returning for a while.

It shouldn’t have, but getting caught - and by her, and feeling her arousal from the brief moments she watched them … it spurred him on, sent him deeper into that state of building pleasure.

She didn’t know they already knew she was there. Azriel wanted to see how long it took for her to say something, or if they’d have to act first.

“We should invite her back.” Cassian said, bruised lips frowning.

“Do you want to scare her off?” Azriel asked incredulously. They had actual albeit vague plans for this. To come in stages, how to trigger various emotions in her.

“No.” He muttered, entwining his hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck.

“Good boy” Azriel teased and his friend grunted, throwing a half-hearted punch his way. Cassian stiffened under his hand. “You like that?” His teeth nipped at his neck as his hand slipped under his waistband.

“Do we talk to her about it?” Cassian asked, an hour later - hair messed, cheeks flushed, one hand braced on the doorframe.

Az propped himself up from where he was still laying in bed. “Let her dream about it.”

#acotar fic #cazriel x reader #cazriel x y/n #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x y/n x azriel #azriel x cassian x y/n #azriel x y/n x cassian #azriel x reader x cassian #cazriel #cassian x azriel #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader x azriel #cassian x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #acotar imagine

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bunnysbrainrot · 1 month

Text

A Lesson in Manners

Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader

Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.

Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.

The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.

That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"

Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.

Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.

"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"

Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"

Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."

"Cas?"

"If we could even get a hold of him."

"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.

Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."

You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.

He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.

Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.

"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.

You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.

Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.

You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."

Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."

Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.

You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.

Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?

After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.

Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.

The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.

Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.

At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.

“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”

Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.

“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.

Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.

“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.

The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.

You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”

He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.

“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.

Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.

Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.

Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”

The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.

Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.

Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.

Until suddenly, you had company.

“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”

The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.

Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.

“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.

You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.

“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.

You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”

Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”

Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.

Before crossing a crucial line.

A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.

“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.

The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.

Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.

“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.

In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.

The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“

He didn’t react to your objection.

Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.

A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.

You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.

Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.

What a night, right?

It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.

“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”

——

“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.

Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.

Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”

You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.

“Let’s getcha home.”

Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!

#fanfiction #supernatural #spnfandom #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #bunny writes #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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adkawariatka · 30 days

Text

I can’t stop thinking about this idea soooo here is another part.

In hindsight Tim really shouldn’t have worked himself so much about that friend of Damian. Why you might think? Becouse spying your brother’s friend is an invasion of his privacy? Or just creepy? Or maybe its unfair towards said brother and his friend? No. No Tim problem was much more human shaped. He did plan to be subtle but with DAMIAN. Not with his very annoying and moral older brother. When Dick found him in Bat Cave in his work trance and asked him what he was doing…. Tim just told him, damn his one track focus. It earned him a lecture about privacy, respect and morals….So he was forbidden from any camera videos in areas that Damian met his misterious friend. He felt so frustrated when he tried to explain his worries to Dick and he called him paranoid… which fair he may be sometimes fixated on some cases and a little suspicious of everything too… normal. But Dick was just so happy about the information that Damian had a friend, that he did not think about the fact that other normal 10 year old would never be able to talk with Damian about complicated emotion problems … let alone how to solve them. The time of Damian working on friends mission, Or differently meeting with some stranger, and changing his behaviours at manor lined. SO that someone needed to talk with Damian about his social problems. The only logical way of explaining the „condinience” would be if that person was someone older. Old enough to understand social interactions to the level that allowed them to introduce it to Damian. It painted disturbing picture to Tim. Some Creep manipulating his younger brother. It can lead to a disaster not only for Damian but all the Waynes. What if he will Trust that person and tell them their secret? The talk with Damian only opened his eyes that above all the training the kid had he was still just that: a kid. The only thing that Dick advised him was to go and talk with Damian. Which ok, last time went well but…. he might at least try.

Tim did not wanted to believe that it was that easy. Of course he didnt start to snoop about the friend yet…. But just interacted with Damian. First time was really akward but they got past it. Tim still cringes at the memory:

It was after patrol they were changing in to civilian clothes. Tim was battling with his thoughts how to start conversation when Damian started to pull out his equipment for sharpening his katana. And he thoght that it is as good subject as any other.

-how long does it take to sharpen it?

Damian stopped what he was doing and gazed at him warly. They stood in complete silence long enough to be uncomfortable. Tim started to think that it was mistake when Damian broke the silence.

-do you…want to see?

And Tim did want. It turned out that it was great idea. Damian talked for almost an hour about granuality of sandpaper used to sharpen his katana, different kinds of oils and even how to storage it properly. Tim was impressed by detailed knowledge and experienced movements. That was his first full Blown conversation with Damian and it was great.

After that they interacted with each other more and more outside of patrols. They weren’t conversations of utter importance, but Tim got fond of them. More often than not it revolved around things as trivial as favourite books, school, fight techniques Or even hobbies. If Tim was being honest he did not Think that Damian would ever talk about such topics. In the past he often expressed his annoyance at information of this type, but not anymore. Tim suspected that it was the influence of his „friend”. However among those unsuspecting subjects Damian sometimes asked questions that worried Tim.

One of the untold rules of their interactions were that they never talked about the „deep stuff”. Which was why he was so surprised by sudden change of topics during unsuspecting conversation about donating clothes to Damian school, which by the way he was doing things like that now. Without any warning he heard question:

- when you were living in Darke manor were you… lonely?

That was weird question to ask without warning. But… was Damian worried about him? Or was he feeling like he has no one close? But there was also second aspect: From beggining of their interactions they avoided any subjects that Tim was prying for and here Damian was offering it on silver platter. He was not going to waste that chance.

-hmmm… well I was young and alone for most of the time so yes I was

Damian seemed to mull over that information. After short pause he started

- What did you do to feel better?

- I mostly tried to take my mind elsewhere. I cooked, cleaned, studied, went around making photos of Batman in the middle of the night… but I wouldn’t recommend that to anyone. Oh and I read many many books. But you know the best option is to go to people that care for you.

- that seems acceptable.

After that Damian came back to the previous subject. Tim felt a little dumbfounded. He couldn’t shake the impression that he was the one grilled for information in this situation.

Not long after that memorable conversation Damian started going to library very often. Tim was now seriously worried. Did Damian felt lonely? Did he actually think that he has no one. It didn’t seat with Tim right. He doesn’t mean that he was uneasy with Damian trying to help himself… it was more about the fact that he was doing it wrong… he had Dick and Bruce, Alfred, his supposed friend… hell Tim was right here! He thought that their relationship was better. He thought… he doesn’t know what he felt but he was damn upset about it. If Damian does not came to Tim then he will come to him. When he passed library third time that week and Damian was there picking books he decided that it was enough.

When he entered Damian was standing on a small stool picking books from the shelf high above his head. Tim walked to the stack of already picked ones and went through their titles

- I didn’t know you were interested in astrology… or maths and physics

- I am not

Replayed Damian without the beat of hestitation. Tim looked at him as if he grown second head.

-then… why did you choose those books? I can help you find some about katanas or animals

- I appreciate the offer but I do not require your assistance.

Tim stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, while Damian apparently found what he was looking for and got of the stool. He turned around and meet Tim’s unsure eyes. In his hand he held huge brown book with constellations on the cover. Damian studied him for a moment.

- Drake

- Damian IF I can somehow help…

Cut in Tim trying to act as a responsible older brother. Where the hell was dick when he was needed. He was the emotional one. His small breakdown was interrupted by Damian words:

- Timothy I don’t know what inaccurate conclusion you created but whatever you are thinking is wrong

It sounded only a little as an insult. That’s progress but it does not solve his problem.

- Damian if you look for a way to feel better…

Tim trailed off God he was awful at this. He had problems processing his feelings how was he supposed to untangle Damian’s?!

- Ancients Those books are not for me.

Tim stared dumbfounded. Who the hell were ancients and if books weren’t for Damian then…

-they are for Danny

Ok Tim did not know from when did Damian started using nicknames, or who was Danny but he started to have his suspicions. Who did Damian became close lately? To the mysterious friend. It was not difficult from there.

-soooo Danny told you he was lonely?

Tim swears that if some creep is trying to pry on his little brother developing compassion then he is going to make sure he will pay for it very high price. He needs as much information as he can get.

- No he did not. But I observed that…his mood drops whenever we had gone longer without seeing each other…. Your advise seems to help

Huh. Tim did not expect that. However that does not seem that it is not manipulation either. Danny might be playing the victim to ensure that Damian trusts him completely.

- hey Damian how old is Danny?

Damian narrowed his eyes and tensed. Oops Tim just crossed the line.

- I don’t see any reason I should inform you about that.

That was rather cold. Tim is glad that Damian’s katana is away from his hand radious.

- If he is lonely then he could sometimes visit manor. Come for dinner or something. It’s not like our friends don’t visit.

Damian eyes softened a little. Tim counted this as a win.

- I will take that into account.

After that Tim helped Damian carry his books to his room and tried not to worry too much about his suspicions.

In Tim’s defense he did not plan this. He was just checking out the coffee shop close to the park when he bumped into them in the doorway. He exited said store when he stumbled into someone. Only after a moment he processed that said someone held in hands the same huge brown book with familiar constalations on the cover. And sure enough when he looked to the left there was standing Damian. The boy who held the book was Laughing and looking at his younger brother. Tim studied him carefully he had piercing blue eyes, hollow cheeks indicating malnutrition and black tangled hair that seemed in serious need of a cut. He was wearing jeans that in the past were probably navy blue but now seemed more gray and brown pulled jumper very similar to what he used to wear few years ago. He was lanky in that unhealthy way that kids from troubled homes were. Tim smiled slyly and caught Damian eyes. He seemed really tense.

- hey Danny nice finally meeting you!

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dick grayson #dpxdc #tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #story #writing

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 1 year

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Y'all regularly send in questions wanting to know how to report concerns you've observed at zoos you've visited. I've been able to point people at the USDA (regulatory) option, but with regard to accrediting groups I haven't had a good answer. I spent the last six months or so really digging into why there hasn't been a good answer. What I've found is that the majority of zoological accrediting groups in the United States don't provide any way for the public to report issues they've observed at accredited facilities, and none of said organizations have a mechanism for truly supporting / protecting staff who might choose to report issues at their own facilities. Which is. not great.

I wrote a whole Substack post about it a few days ago, arguing that in order to remain credible institutions accrediting groups must facilitate public reporting, anonymous reporting, and commit to enforcing penalties for any retaliation against staff who choose to utilize the option. I'm linking it below for anyone who is interested in all the details. CW at the beginning for animal abuse mentions - I started the piece by discussing a truly egregious welfare situation that occurred last year at a Miami facility, which might have been prevented or at least caught earlier if the two groups that accredit the facility had had a reporting mechanism in place.

What I want to talk about here, though, is specifically why accrediting orgs need to not only have an anonymous reporting option for staff, but why they must ban retaliation and penalize any facility that does it anyway. Whenever something terrible happens at a zoo or sanctuary, people always ask "why didn't the staff say something?" And the answer is, basically, because taking that risk can get you not just fired, but blacklisted from the field. People literally end up having to choose between their careers and making noise about issues that aren't being resolved, and that's absolutely not freaking okay. But I want to explain for you the extent of the issue.

If you're not industry, something you might be surprised to learn is that most zoo staff don't have any special reporting options above and beyond what the public does. Most zookeepers and other low-level staff never interact with people from accrediting groups except during an actual inspection - so if there's a problem, it's not like they know someone they can back-channel a concern to if they don't feel safe reporting it publicly. And for the most part, reporting things your facility is doing to an accrediting group will always be considered inappropriate and probably get a keeper in trouble (even if it's a really valid issue).

The zoological industry runs on a strongly hierarchical system. Staff are expected to “stay within their lanes” and work within the established bureaucracy to resolve issues. Deviating from this, if staff feel like management are suppressing issues or something needs to be addressed urgently, is very heavily frowned upon. Basically, going around management to bring something to an accrediting group (or USDA, or the media) is seen as indicating that your facility has failed to address a problem, or that the individual making the report feels they know more than their superiors. At most places, no matter how extreme an issue may become, there's never a point at which it would be acceptable for a staff member to reveal a facility’s internal issues to their accrediting body.

The thing is, attempting to resolve issues through the proper internal channels at a facility doesn't always work! It can result in an issue being covered up (especially if the company is kinda shady) or suppressed rather than addressed. If staff decide to push the issue, it can really backfire and jeopardize their job, because it's expected that if management says something is fine, staff need to acquiesce and go along with it.

There have been a couple high-profile examples of this in the last decade: the incident I mention in my Substack where new management at the Miami Seaquarium decided to starve dolphins to coerce them into participating in guest programs, and an issue at the Austin Zoo five-ish years ago where the director was perpetuating serious welfare issues and ignoring staff feedback. In both cases, there's always the questions of where the accrediting group was. We don't know anything about what happened with the Seaquarium (it's been over six months since the USDA report documenting the diet cuts was released and AMMPA and American Humane haven't said a thing), but I remember hearing that ZAA had no idea what was happening at Austin because nobody had reached out to them about it.

This is why I'm arguing that all zoological accrediting groups need to make visible reporting options and make sure staff feel safe enough to use them! If you've got a facility perpetuating or not dealing with major issues, it's pretty probable that they're going to be unhappy if their staff reports those issues to any oversight body. That's not a situation where it's currently safe to speak up right now - and four out of five zoological accrediting groups in the US don't have standards prohibiting retaliation against staff for bringing up issues like that! (Surprisingly, it's not AZA. It's the sanctuary accrediting group, GFAS). Without any option for internal reporting, issues may not get addressed - which hurts animal welfare - or people risk losing their job, possibly their entire career in the field (which is a huge part of people's identities!), and their financial stability to advocate for their animals.

Currently, the two accrediting groups that do have reporting options (AZA and GFAS) stay they'll attempt to keep reports anonymous, but acknowledge it may not be possible to do so. (Which tracks, because zoo jobs are highly specialized and only a few people may be exposed to an issue). However, only GFAS prohibits facilities from retaliating against people who make reports. On top of that, there's absolutely no transparency about what happens next: GFAS, ZAA, AMMPA and AH have no information about how the process transpires and if someone making a report will get any information back about what happened. AZA straight up says that all accreditation stuff is proprietary (read: confidential) so you just have to trust that they dealt with it appropriately. Just yeet your report into the void and hope the groups doing oversight handle it correctly when there's no accountability? That's... not a great look for animal welfare concerns.

I hope the industry chooses to fix this problem. I hope it chooses to invest in transparency and increased credibility. I don't know what I expect, but I'd like to see these accrediting groups do the right thing.

My full write-up on how accrediting groups in the US handle reporting and concerns (or don't) is linked below.

#zoo industry #zoo animal welfare #accreditation #anonymous reporting #zoo politics #my research

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cloudwisp · 26 days

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𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 · 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬

contents: comfort. fluff. wriothesley cheering you up after a rough morning. 900 wc.

Sometimes you wonder if Wriothesley truly does see and hear all—much like his omniscient reputation where he always seems to know what goes on in the Fortress of Meropide every minute of every day.

But he doesn’t need his stream of intel to know that something’s wrong when you enter his office to share a nice meal and freshly brewed cup of tea with him during lunchtime. From the slight slump in your posture and the soft, weary sigh you exhale just seconds before you offer him your sweet smile and plant a greeting kiss upon his lips, he easily figures that your morning didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped.

He observes you for a moment as you place the takeout on the table and situate yourself on his velvet couch and he gathers his scattered paperwork into a neat stack. He can tell that whatever happened before coming here is still weighing heavily on your mind, and he doesn’t like it when you force yourself to smile. “What’s got you down, sweetheart?”

You hadn’t realized you were lost in thought when you turned toward his direction, and much to your surprise, he’s bent at the knee to meet you at face level to give you his full and undivided attention. You muster another smile and shake your head. “Hm? It’s nothing.”

Try as you might to hide your feelings, Wriothesley doesn’t believe a word of it. Not for one second. His tone of voice softens as he gently finds your hand to hold and his thumb rubs small circles over your skin. “Come on, I know something’s wrong. Don’t shut me out.” His other hand reaches up to brush strands of hair away from your face and tenderly tuck them behind your ear.

There’s no secret you can keep from him—he notices every little detail when it comes to you. He loves you more than life itself and he cares deeply about you and believes that his duty as your boyfriend was to ensure your safety and happiness. And so he looks at you, waiting in silence until you’re ready to confide in him. Like he knew if he waited, the truth would eventually come out.

You feel a wave of comfort wash over you when he cradles your cheek in his hand and you lean into the warmth of his touch. After a breath, you decide to tell him about what transpired at your workplace in the morning. How your boss keeps assigning you small and tedious tasks when you already have a full plate and deadlines to meet yet he refuses to hear anything you have to say.

Wriothesley listens intently to your venting and he nods agreeably with you. “And you’ve already explained to him that what he’s demanding is a little extreme, right? You’ve been trying to tell him this, but it’s still not sinking in?” He takes your sigh in defeat and your head falling forward as your response. “That would make anyone upset, sweetheart.”

He knows that any mentions of him wanting to have a friendly chat with your supervisor is only going to further upset you, so he’ll keep that to himself and quietly take care of it in his own time because he doesn’t intend to dismiss it. He would hate to see you in a troubled situation like this in the foreseeable future, and if he’s able to pull some strings behind the scenes then he’ll do anything within his power to make your life a little bit easier.

You perk up when you feel him lay a kiss on the top of your head and he returns to his full height, making you crane your neck at him curiously when you make out his smirk in the dim lighting. He offers you his hand and nods behind him. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.”

Your heart melts at his sweet gesture and you allow him to lead the way. With a few strides to his desk and quick work of his hands, a soft and romantic melody flows from the record player. A small laugh escapes you and he sees your real, genuine smile for the first time today. He chuckles when you begin to make sense of his plan to lighten the mood, and he reels you in by the waist and holds you close to him as you both start to slowly sway to the lovely tunes.

The ever-present smile on your face means that it’s working, your head gently rests against his broad chest and your sighs become one of contentment—all of your worries and frustrations fading away into nothingness. It’s just you and him, a feeling of safeness and belonging found in his embrace as his love wraps entirely around you.

“You know, I didn’t peg you for a dancer.” You tease, gazing back into those deep whirls of blue that hold all of his adoration and affection for you. If only you knew the depths of his feelings, perhaps he’ll save that conversation for another day.

A quiet and happy hum sounds from his throat and he presses himself closer to you, giving your hand a light squeeze. “What can I say? Love makes you do all sorts of things.”

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader

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d0youc0py · 1 year

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I am literally in love with your writing. Can we get a more silent/nonchalant reader that doesn't usually speak so that when 141 goes home upset she doesn't have much to say and they get upset?? Angst to fluff please, thank u so much!!

You were just starting to drift off to sleep when the door shut abruptly.

“Sweetheart.” You heard from the living room. You were usually still up and roaming at this time, but you really just wanted to curl up under the covers.

“In here!” You shouted. He wasn’t suppose to be back for another two weeks, he had just left three days ago. “Everything alright? You’re back already.”

“Fucking hell.” He grumbled making his way to the bedroom. You met him at the door way scanning him over with your eyes.

“You get hurt again?” You questioned tugging at his shirt. He shook his head. His cheeks were flushed and his hand rubbed back and forth over his jaw.

“You’re not gonna believe this.” He scoffed. He patted your bottom in greeting and pushed his way into the bedroom. He started peeling off his clothes until he was just in his boxers. “Price pulled me out.” He growled. Your eyes widened. That was very unlike Captain.

“What happened.” You questioned plopping back down on the bed. He paced back and forth. You were shocked when he actually began to explain. He usually never went into any detail about his job.

“Said we made a bad call, some people who weren’t suppose to get hurt ended up getting hurt.” He grumbled, plopping down next to you.

“We?”

“Me and Gaz.” He clarified. “The best bit is that he didn’t pull Gaz, just pulled me.” What you were about to say next was the opposite reaction of what he was expecting.

“Well you are Lieutenant, yeah?” You yawned. His head left his palms and shot over to you.

“What?” He spat.

“I mean you’re the one who probably made the call, Captain goes down with the ship.” You shrugged. You leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder but he tore himself away before you could.

“You fucking serious right now?” You instinctively shrunk away from the growl in his voice. “He didn’t pull Gaz because he’s the favorite.” He pressed.

“Si, Captain doesn’t play favorites like that and you know it.” You don’t know why you said it. You guess you just didn’t want Simon to have hard feelings towards Price, especially when he didn’t deserve it. That was Simon’s breaking point. He reached across the bed and grabbed his pillow, stomping back into the living room. He needed time to cool off. To be honest so did you. Sighing you got up from the bed and turned the lights off, crawling back under the covers.

•Morning•

You woke up to the smell of your favorite breakfast in the air: French toast. Relief flooded your body. You had a bit of a hard time sleeping last night due to your tuff with Simon, but the fact he was making your favorite breakfast showed he was over it. You shed the covers off making your way to brush your teeth.

“Si.” You chirped. He turned from the stove looking at you with regretful umber eyes. You shot him an assuring smile. He quickly lifted his arm and you took the cue to nuzzle yourself against him.

“Sorry for being an ass last night.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. You looked up at him placing your lips against his.

“It’s alright.” You whispered against him. “I should’ve laid off and been more supportive of how you were feeling.”

“No, you were right. I did make that call.” He tossed a fat slice of French toast onto a plate with eggs. “I just didn’t want to hear it last night. I’ve never been taken off a job before, guess I was just embarrassed about what you’d think of me.” He mumbled so low you almost didn’t catch it. His cheeks were flushed from the level of vulnerability he felt he was showing.

“I understand.” You smiled again. You took his heated face in your hands pressing quick and hard kisses against his cheek, enjoying the way they darkened.

He was throughly exhausted. No matter what he did everything had either gone wrong or made no impact whatsoever. That’s why as soon as he got in the door his hands were at your sides, picking you up and holding you against him. He buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply. He could feel the tense muscles in his back already loosen.

“Hi Cap.” You smiled, resting your head against his broad shoulder.

“I never want to hear the word Captain ever again.” He grumbled, causing you to smile.

“Tough time?” You questioned, he nodded his head, keeping it buried in your neck. He flopped down on the couch keeping you tight in his lap. He sleepily told you vaguely about what had happened. How the enemy seemed to constantly be one step ahead of him. Now no one can deny John was great at his job, but he was starting to feel the pressure. Starting to feel like he wasn’t good enough. That maybe he was loosing his magic touch. He told you this- not exactly in those words, but enough for you to get the idea.

“Sorry you feel that way.” You sighed. He waited patiently for you to continue.

“That’s it?” He huffed. You raised your head from his shoulder.

“What?”

“That’s all I get?” He repeated.

You chuckled dryly. “What do you want me to say?” You scoffed.

“I don’t know.” His eyes darted around the room. “Maybe a ‘You’ll pull through John.’ Anything is better than ‘sorry you feel that way’.” He chided. You pulled yourself off his lap, and he let you.

“Didn’t know you needed that type of assurance.” Of course you knew he would come through in the end. He was Captain John Price. He rubbed his face with his hands, getting up from the couch with a grunt.

“I think I should sleep in the guest room tonight.” He sighed. You opened your mouth to stop him but nothing came. He waited by the doorway like he was expecting something too. With another sigh he disappeared down the hallway.

You groaned and buried your face into the couch cushion. You didn’t mean to come across so uncaring. You loved this man more than anything, of course you wanted to be there for him. You had always struggled with the brain to mouth connection, that’s one of the things you loved about John. How quickly he and gracefully was able to make that connection. Bitting your lip you pulled yourself off the couch, making your way to the guest room.

You knocked at the open door. He was sprawled out on the bed, still fully clothed. His deep breathing made you wonder if he had already fallen asleep. His eyes panned over to you.

“Yes, sweetheart?” God he could never be mad at you could he? You walked over to him slowly, kneeling on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You said softly. Your hand slowly left your thigh and rested against his stomach. He reached down and grabbed it, pressing a hard kiss against your knuckles. He leaned up on his elbow and you couldn’t resist the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. He chuckled softly and laid back down holding you tightly against him.

“S’alright.” He assured, kissing your temple.

“No it wasn’t. Of course you’re going to make it through it. You always do.” You said, kissing his cheek. You could feel him smile against your forehead.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You don’t think I’m right?” Johnny urged. His body was hot and he had been cracking the same knuckles over and over since you had gotten home.

“I don’t know Jo.” You shrugged, grabbing a glass from the cabinet.

“Cut the shite.” He growled. “Do you or do you not think I’m right?”

It had all started earlier when the two of you went out on your weekly date night. You both decided it would be fun to try bowling, the only problem was you were sharing the lane with a bunch of men who took a little too much advantage of the bar. They weren’t handsy or inappropriate by any means, just very concerned about making sure you got a strike. They offered you a plethora of tips and tricks and when one of them stood a little to close to you (for Johnny’s liking anyway) he lost it. He gave the guy a hard shove and dragged you out of there, with the prize counter lady yelling at the two of you to never come back. Johnny had taken your silence as disagreement for the way he had acted. He’ll admit that maybe he did over react, but what was he suppose to do? He swore that guy was about to touch you, and who does he think he is anyways? You were obviously with Johnny so why did they all think it was okay to interject themselves into your game? This is the explanation he gave you.

“I don’t know Johnny.” You groaned again. He growled low in his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“Why is this so hard for you, huh? You either agree that I made the right choice or you thought I was an ass. Which one is it?” He pressed. His fiery blue eyes bore into yours. His passion was was always so intense, it never failed to overwhelm you.

“Why are you trying to fight, Johnny?” You mumbled. You could feel tears prick your eyes and you hoped that he would notice them and shut himself down.

“Answer me!” He shouted his hand slamming itself against the counter. The tears finally fell, along with his heart. “Shite.” He said quickly. You hid your face in your hands. “I’m sorry, bon.” He whispered quickly. He took a few slow steps towards you, like he was approaching a skittish deer. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It was true. The man would jump in front of a bus for you without a second thought. He was just so hot-headed and stubborn.

“I know.” You mumbled. His hand gently reached out resting against your arm. When you didn’t pull away he took it as an ‘okay’ and pulled you against him.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, tucking you under his chin. “I just get so feisty when it comes to you. I need to work on it, I know.”

You nodded your head in agreement letting yourself relax against him.

Bon= shortened version of Bonnie

He had just spent the last thirty minutes venting to you and all you had to say was,

“That sucks.”

He had just gotten back home from the store and he didn’t even bother pulling the groceries out of the car before he was charging in madder than you had ever seen him. He had gotten into a road rage incident. Some lady cut him off- almost damaging his beloved car in the process, so naturally he gave her a little honk with his horn. The woman proceeded to break check him. Luckily he was far enough away that he didn’t rear end her, but she didn’t seem to know that. She got out of her car yelling at him for hitting her even though there was obviously a few inches of space between the two cars. She demanded he call his insurance company, which he refused because no damage was done and it was pretty obvious she did it one purpose. The situation just continued to escalate from there.

He’d been with you for over two years now so he knew you weren’t much of a talker- but he expected a little more out of you then that. Especially when you saw how shaken up he was from the encounter.

“Could you imagine?” He continued, hoping to spark some sort of feedback from you. You just nodded your head in agreement.

“Groceries still in the car?” You asked. His eyes widened, and he stiffed from his spot on the couch. “Serious?”

“What?” Your brows furrowed at his expression,

“A ‘that sucks’ and ‘groceries’ is all I’m going to get out of you?”

You picked at your fingers and shrugged. He ran a hand down his face.

“Yeah, the groceries are still in the car.” He sighed, standing up from the couch. You watched quietly as he trudged to the bedroom the door closing softly behind him.

It had been a solid hour since you had seen him. You had put the groceries away and even began to make dinner by the time he appeared again. You hoped that by making his favorite stir fry you would be back in his good graces.

“Smells good.” He commented, sitting at the kitchen island. “I called Cap.” He said suddenly. You looked up from the wok sending him a small smile. “He said he’d use her plate numbers and add an unpaid parking ticket on her record.” You both chuckled. He slowly stood up and made his way over to you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “He also said I should apologize to you.” He hummed, kissing the skin your tank top strap didn’t cover.

“You don’t have to.” You interrupted. “I should apologize, Ky. Anyone would be shaken by that experience and I just brushed it off. I’m sorry.” You could feel him smile against your skin. His hands rested on your hips, turning you around to face him.

“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you though. I’m a natural talker and sometimes I forget how the other half live.” He snickered, kissing you lips quickly. You pulled him back down attaching you lips back to his.

What’s wrong with me that I love angst so much? Thank you anon for your kind words and this awesome request! I seriously enjoyed writing this!

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hwatermelons · 9 months

Note

heyyy 🤭 i love love loveee ur ateez writing!! can u do a soft n fluffy bf!ateez when cuddling at night? u can do any writing style u want! <3 thank uuu

ateez ⋆ cuddling at night with them

⋆ 1.6k words ⋆ bf!ateez x gn!reader ⋆ fluff! so much fluff ^^ ⋆ warnings: lots of close physical contact, face touching and chaste kissing ⋆ a/n: ngl i giggled and kicked my feet while writing this even though it took me forever (i'm so sorry about that;;) thank you sm for the request! also, wooyoung is a history nerd.

╭──────────────────────────.★..─╮

hongjoong ⋆ art

hongjoong smiles as he runs his fingertips down the side of your face, snuggled into the blanket facing you. when you'd asked him to trace your face to sleep, he'd wondered why anyone would ever want to be touched that closely at first. but when you explained that it was something your parents used to do when you had a nightmare as a child, he was delighted to offer the same level of comfort.

hongjoong outlines the perimeter of your eyes, nose and lips, working his way from the top of your forehead to the tip of your chin. soft kisses follow his fingers. your eyelids grow heavy as he smooths back your hair, tracing each strand from the root to the tip. he's in no rush to finish his masterpiece, and helping you fall asleep in the middle of it is an added bonus.

you were the most fascinating person hongjoong knew, a tapestry woven in five senses. so to him, you deserved his full attention in order to do justice to your likeness. your lover studies the way the way your lashes flutter in your sleep, memorizes the sound of your steady breathing, contemplates the texture of your skin and all its lovely imperfections that give life to your form. if he could, hongjoong would paint a vision of you on the insides of his eyelids so he could see you every time he dreamed. he settles for painting your face instead, the slow movements of his fingers detailing each cherished feature.

seonghwa ⋆ solidity

seonghwa always loves to surprise you with back hugs during the day, especially with the way you melt into a puddle in his arms every time. so it's no surprise that his favorite way to fall asleep at night is flush against your back, face pressed into your hair and hands holding onto yours, wrapped around you in a tight embrace. seonghwa needs your weight against his chest just as much as you need his solid reassurance behind you. the best part is being able to feel his heartbeat pump out a steady rhythm, the perfect white noise for quieting down any extra thoughts before you fall asleep.

you lean into him, eyes slipping closed. the familiarity of it is impossible not to sink into. seonghwa presses a kiss into your hair as you drift off, his arms a firm reminder that the outside world can't get to you here.

yunho ⋆ beauty

yunho can't imagine falling asleep in any other way than watching your eyelids droop inches from his face through his own sleepy haze. and that's exactly where you are tonight, just like the night before, and so many nights before that. forgetting about the weight of the world in your lover's arms, even if it's only for a couple hours. unknown to you, however, said lover is currently busy fighting a losing battle in his mind against the urge to shower your sweet, drowsy face in kisses.

yunho sighs. he's been trying so hard to hold back for the past hour. but it's late, and he can't sleep, and more importantly he just can't resist anymore. he leans in and touches your foreheads together, then rubs your nose with the tip of his. in his defense, he can't help it! you're just too adorable to him. but when you open your eyes, he panics.

"ahhh, was that too much? i should've asked--" you interrupt him by pulling him into a tight hug. yunho yelps in surprise as you bury your face into his chest, hiding the rapidly rising blush across your cheeks. "it was perfect," you mumble, the words muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt.

yeosang ⋆ trust

the only reason yeosang shies away from touching you in public is because that's something he wants to share only with you. it's sacred. to him, physical touch is a promise between two people, that they'll hold on and never let go through all the bad times, and celebrate all of the good together. from a kiss on the cheek stolen by san or wooyoung to a smothering group hug from the other members, yeosang only allows those closest to him to touch him. so when he lets you wrap your arms around him and tuck yourselves into a blanket burrito and smooth back his hair and press kisses to his temples, you know he can finally fully trust you. you smile to yourself as you hear yeosang's breaths even out, your cherished angel slipping into sleep.

san ⋆ smile

san holds you like he's afraid you'll leave if he doesn't keep up his vice-like grip. to him, there's no such thing as being too close to you. he rarely leaves you completely alone during most of the day, taking the chance to smother you in hugs or kisses whenever you let him at home, and he's always a text away if you two are apart. at night, you're all his, and he loves the fact that you have no escape now. your arms mirror his, wrapped tightly around his waist. but you add your own touch by massaging up and down his spine, earning a soft sigh from him. you can feel his back muscles relaxing through the shiba inu patterned pajamas as he settles his head in between your neck and shoulder, leaving a kiss at the spot he ends up at.

and then san looks up at you with one of those smiles. the ones where his eyes scrunch all the way up but he's too elated to care about how silly he looks (in his opinion, not yours). no matter how long it's been, he still can't believe he gets to see you from this angle every night, the way no one else can.

mingi ⋆ envelop

mingi physically cannot fall asleep without using you as his personal teddy bear. his favorite way to hold you is with his chin resting on the top of your head. you'd be curled into his chest, and he'd have his arms around you like he can't bear to let any part of you escape his grasp.

your princess adores being able to protect you, to watch over you, to feel needed in such a fundamental way. he kisses the top of your head, and you feel him relaxing into the embrace, the tension leaving his muscles. mingi tries his best to keep his eyes open for you, but ends up drifting off first from your warmth. as you shift into a more comfortable position, he subconsciously pulls you in tighter, soft breaths tickling your scalp.

wooyoung ⋆ tale

"tell me a story," you probe wooyoung as he lays his head on your stomach. he loves being pampered by you, and he always looks forward to the end of the day for this. his hair is the longest it's been in a while, and you've been absentmindedly braiding and unbraiding sections of it as he replays one particular step of the choreography he and the others had worked on today on his phone. you can tell he isn't nearly as satisfied with it as he wants to be. but it's getting late and inspiration isn't striking him, so he decides to set down the phone and humor your wish.

wooyoung always seems to have some interesting tale to tell, like the adventures of a legendary historical figure, or the origins of a certain korean tradition, or even the story behind the most seemingly mundane things.

tonight's feature is the latest gossip from the servants working behind the closed doors of an ancient prince's private grounds in the Joseon era. apparently, he’d been busy plotting a coup against his father, the king (“right under his nose!”). but it was completely justified because he planned on passing the throne to his youngest son instead of him ("the audacity!"). wooyoung enthusiastically details the bloody fratricides the prince committed ("i'm pretty sure one was enough to send the message??"), eventually scaring his last remaining brother into abdicating the throne after less than a year ("a single year!").

unnoticed by wooyoung, you fall asleep in the first five minutes of his retelling. he goes on for half an hour before he realizes you've started to snore. at first he's half-jokingly offended, but he knows you were exhausted from the long day. still, that doesn't stop him from taking a picture of your face smushed into your pillow for future blackmail purposes, before snuggling up in the sheets with you. you won't be spared from the story over breakfast tomorrow (hey, you asked for it!), but for now he's perfectly content with hooking his arms around you and falling asleep on your chest, careful not to wake you up in the process.

jongho ⋆ serenade

jongho loves loves loves singing you to sleep. and he loves it even more when you ask him to. from the crook of his arm, you look up at him and softly make your request known. his eyes sparkle in assent, and the gentle hum of 'star 1117' fills the room as he plays with your fingers resting on his chest. you reach up to pinch his cheek, finding him too adorable in this moment, and he makes a face. jongho pinches both of your cheeks harder in retaliation, refusing to let go and chuckling when you swat at his hands. "when i said i'll return all of your love tenfold, i meant it," he teases, fully prepared to smother your face in a bear hug if you dared to acknowledge the cheesiness of his words.

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