#''friends of yours? and which is more acquainted with a bath?''

[yinyunnsworld]

High school Au

I never knew I’d come to like high school romances and the fact it’s the most cliche one: popular boy x quiet girl? Bro i was playing this one cai bot (cause i’m delusional) and there was this popular boy bot. I was like??? Ajdbxjehnen. You know, I’m almost graduating already and in the animes, they’re just starting their first year of high school meanwhile I’m already there at the end of everything. So here, I’m gonna share a prompt with you guys and uh this is mostly what i do at highschool back then:

Characters: various x readers.

Word: 1.1k

Warning: can be ooc. A train of thoughts so it’s messy. Typos are to beware of. Broken grammar. Unedited. First draft.

Imagine you’re an average student. Sure, you did have friends, you did your work splendidly, and although you’re not an academically smart or active student, the teachers still remembered you pretty much. You never played in the popular kids’ circles since most of the time, those students would outcast others who tried to be part of the circle when they had nothing to offer. It’s like a sore thumb sticking out and you’re just there, supposedly ruining their aesthetics with your ‘weird’ and ‘boring’ personality.

But you’re not bullied as well! You’re just very much a wallflower that if you were to blend in with the geek kids, you’ll stand out too much. Yet if you blend with the cool kids, you’re too bland.

That was until he came.

At first, he found you to be a rather boring person since you didn’t talk much yet when you did, you had the whole audience staring at you. By that I mean, when you came forth to perform a speech or any speaking assignment in front of the class, you knew what to do to make attention land on you. Even when you stepped down from the stage, that charm immediately vanished and you returned to nobody.

You would still be able to make lots of acquaintances with lots of people although they’re necessarily not your friends. When he asked others if they knew you by one coincidental day in which he didn’t even realize your image was playing in his head, and he’d unconsciously asked about you, others would tell him, ‘Yeah, I know her.’

And despite always downplaying things, he would sometimes scroll through your social media account by accident. He claimed that he did it because your recent post of you hanging out at your friend’s birthday party showed up on his feed (none of you followed each other since he was too conscious to even follow you), he saw that you posted mostly of yourself and of your friends. Well, perhaps there weren’t that many posts on your account since you didn’t exactly use it that much, but when you did post something, he would check on your profile to see if he missed out on your other previous posts. Sometimes, he would accidentally even click on your story, leaving a trail of his user visible on your history. Before he knew it, he already cursed himself for accidentally clicking on your story, but damn did the view you posted on the story seemed awesome.

Eventually, as time passed by, he grew to be more and more curious of you. There were instances where he would offer to be the leader of an assignment group just to take you as his member (he promised it was because he wanted your usefulness and all the skills you could offer that could help boost this assignment’s grade, even if his other friends disagreed).

And during sport’s day, where everyone was basically bathed in their murky and awful sweats, he would find you around the canteen area, attempting to buy drinks without getting busted by the teachers since it wasn’t recess yet. He would use this as a chance and made his way around to the canteen, showing up beside you and bought two drinks. One for him and one for you. He left the drink on the counter, in which you grabbed it and called out to him, and he turned around and spoke, “Oh, that’s for you.” With that, he ran away (thinking he was so smooth, huh?)

Sometimes, he would find you standing in the hallway after school, staring down at the courtyard on your way home. You would often take another route and it would change most of the times just to stall your time, not to go home too soon and enjoy the quietness of the school’s ground when there’s no disturbances. He got intrigued as he noticed your constantly changing route and would follow you from behind, a few feet away of course and acted like he was going home through that route too. Although, in fact he was just curious and wanted to know what you’d be doing after school if you’re not active or part of any activity group.

He would snicker when he watched you wait for someone to come and pick you up from school and you were sitting down on the floor. There was a huge black fat cat that came crawling towards you and sat on your thighs without your prior notice, making a claim on your lap as though it’s the cat’s decision whether or not it could sleep there. You’d panic yet you couldn’t push him off and looked around for help since your pick up had already arrived and you needed to get home soon. He showed up from the corner and helped you take the cat away from your lap. You’d thank him and left already, hurrying to your pick-up driver. He smiled friendly, although the cat glared at him.

And finally, he began to talk to you. Little by little, one by one, conversations between you two were exchanged. He didn’t think you’d actually have some complexity in your character despite always displaying yourself to be a quiet and boring person. You can be loud at times, weird, witty, and sometimes awkward and just embarrassing.

Slowly, the two of you became friends. And he didn’t acknowledge the fact that his heart was already advancing beyond the word ‘friendship’, it’d grown far too unsalvageable. But whenever he saw your oblivious smile to his feelings, he wanted to squish your cheek and pull you to a kiss to actually get the fact drilled in your head that he liked you a lot. But he didn’t and simply laughed at you whenever you’re oblivious to his advances, ruffling your hair to a mess. He would do anything to tease you and annoy you but never to actually lay a hand on you and hurt you like that.

He would just have to wait for the right time to say that he liked you.

Thus, he waited, and waited, and waited…

And now you’re here, celebrating that you’re finally graduating. And he would finally come to you, yet immediately turned cowardly to actually say something to you since you were smiling that day, taking pictures with almost everyone—even the ones you didn’t like because you didn’t want to leave regrets behind. He didn’t want to ruin anything for you, thus he simply remained silent and threw a fist of flour and poured it over to you out of playfulness in which he’d kept that grip of flour behind his back already this whole time.

[svetamillss]

That pregnant headcanons with Hyun-ju was so cute! I don’t mean to sound demanding and you can skip over this one if you like, but I’m curious to see what would happen during labor and the first few months with the baby. Again, zero pressure at all! Your writing is nice

Headcanons: you and your girlfriend became mothers💞

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

Summary: It's, so to speak, a continuation of my headcanons on the topic of your pregnancy. Also here I didn't give daughter's name, I just call her by her nickname

A/N: Thank you very much for your order, I hope you will like the continuation!

💞💞💞

💞You were very afraid to give birth, especially after the stories of your acquaintances. You were so intimidated that you thought you would die during childbirth and cried for a long time Hyun Ju, but she always calmed you down about it and said that everything would be fine. But you were still afraid, so she decided that she would be present at the birth. You were very happy with this news, now it's not scary to give birth.

Childbirth took place from early morning until evening, around 8 o'clock, as she said, the girl was next to you and talked to you all this time (doctors advised you to somehow distract from the pain).

A healthy girl was born, only she went almost all in Hyun Ju, your daughter took only lips and eye color from you.

💞Since your daughter was healthy, you were not kept in the maternity hospital for a long time and literally a couple of days later you were discharged. You lived far from your parents and friends (in Thailand, let's imagine that Hyun Ju's dream came true), so only your girlfriend came to the discharge from the maternity hospital, with a cute gift for you: your favorite flowers and a couple of balloons. It was cozy, cute and tender, especially at the moment when Hyun Ju burst into tears taking a little miracle in her hands. A happy and cheerful life was waiting for you.

💞The first months were a complete hell for all of you. The baby very often cried and was capricious that your girlfriend often jokes and says that her daughter has your character.

The baby often woke up at night. During the day you got very tired taking care of your daughter, because your love was at work, so it's very difficult for you to get up at night, but your girlfriend takes care of everything (only if it's not feeding, if need to feed, she wakes you up).

- Star woke up (this is your daughter's nickname). I have to get up.. - you muttered sleepily, about to get up, but Hyun Ju stopped you.

- Baby, sleep, you're very tired for the day, and I'll take care of the star, but if it turns out that she wants to eat, then I'll wake you up. - you nodded and fell asleep to the girl's sweet kisses, after which she went to the star.

💞Sometimes you have joking arguments about your daughter.

- I wonder when our girl says the word "mom" for the first time, who will she mean? - the girl asks, watching you change the star's diaper.

- Me, of course.

- Why else is that?

- I gave birth to her for about 8 hours! - you proudly repeated.

- But thanks to me you were able to get pregnant, so I played a big role. - Hyun Ju replied with a smile, it seems that she won the argument, but you didn't want it.

- But she spend much more time with me than you! - you didn't give up, but looking at the girl's face, you realized that she would now be able to win back.

- But you're on maternity leave, and I work to feed the family, that's why you spend more time, baby. - she won, again.

💞Thanks to the birth of your daughter, you spend more time together (not counting the work of Hyun Ju). You walk together with the star in the park, because your daughter needs to breathe fresh air. You even to take care of her together. Together you prepare her for bed, bath her and change her diapers. Real good mothers.

💞Unfortunately, you don’t have sex in the first months. That's why Hyun Ju began to tease you harder, because she needs to somehow satisfy herself in this regard.

When you sitting together and you breastfeeding, she likes to joke about it.

- How well she eats your breast milk.

- Of course, this is her main food, and in general, all children love it. - you say without suspecting anything.

- Then can I become a small child too and drink your milk? - she says in a playful voice, which makes you blush a lot, if it weren't for the child in your arms, you wouldn't be able to hold back.

- Hyun Ju! What kind of words are these!?

- Well, why? So you can drink from my chest, besides, there's nothing there, but I'm not with yours? - she said touchingly, but seeing how you can barely hold back, she decided to stop, she knows what she can get.

💞💞💞

[boop-le-snoot]

kinktober #5

Brown Sugar

kinktober day five | exhibitionism | 18+, Thor is showing off his midgardian girlfriend at a ritualistic orgy. asgard, amirite? | word count 2.5k | click here for more kinktober |

“We must?” You gave your boyfriend a cheeky grin.

“Mhm,” he nodded decisively, although his stormy blue eyes were sparkling with mischief. “'tis would be a good omen.”

“God of Fertility and all that?” You snorted, bringing up one of Thor's lesser known titles.

Well, lesser known on your home planet of Midgard. Here in Asgard, everybody was well-acquainted with the numerous titles and duties appointed to their crown prince. And while the ruling had effectively been transferred to Brunhilde, the House of Odin was still very active in the life and courts of the realm.

Which you had to partake in, as well, being Thor's long-term girlfriend. Some customs were pretty normal (smile and wave, smile and wave...), some a little strange and some had you completely understand why Jane, Thor's ex-girlfriend, had ultimately decided to balk on him. Asgard certainly wasn't for the shy and self-conscious.

For you, that ship had sailed and sunk a long time ago. How could you be anything else than smug with a God hanging off your arm? Passing on an opportunity to show him off was like a dog turning down a bone. And - you bit into a delectable fruit with a name you could not even hope to pronounce correctly - what kind of person would you be if you deprived Asgard of the blessings Thor was obliged to bestow upon his realm?

They way you saw it, it was a win/win scenario for everybody. As you submerged yourself in a hot bath swirling with aromatic oils, your heart raced with excitement and trepidation. Deep in the pit of your belly, a coil was beginning to tighten, further filling your limbs with a pleasant, weightless sensation. Floating in the spacious pool, your eyes traced the hard lines of your boyfriend's body with lazy interest.

Pre-gaming an orgy with your godly boyfriend had been the right choice.

Droplets of clear water ran down Thor's pronounced pectorals to soundlessly drip into the pool. You followed each one where it sent ripples across the shimmering surface of water, distorting the generous vision of his twitching heavy cock. He shrugged moisture off his blonde hair. You smirked.

“I fear we may not make it if you continue looking at me like that.” He rumbled, coyly watching your reaction through wet eyelashes.

“I am getting in the mood!” Objected you, but nonetheless ceased your staring to take care of yourself. You fully intended to leave a lasting impression on the people of Asgard and looking fresh and smelling nice was just the first step. Even if Thor's continued, very naked presence proved to be very distracting...

No less distracting was the cacophony of pleasure and bliss that reached your ears as soon as you entered the designated area for the ceremony. Clad in the finest silks and gemstones Thor had gifted you for the occasion, you held your chin up high even as your eyes lingered on couples, throuples and moresomes scattered across a multitude of surfaces.

Warriors and nobles, gods and regular folk, all lost in the haze. White-clad women danced with flowers in their hair, chanting something sweet and melodic in tongues All-Speak could not translate. The same fragrant blossoms hung in long, colourful garlands from the ceiling as fading sunlight reflected a fine golden dust that saturated the air in the room.

You passed Fandral surrounded by no less than five men and women. Thor had snorted and you responded with a smirk, knowing well of his friend's penchant for amorous conquests. Volstagg was here with his wife and he looked to be having a great time observing a slender Valkyrie busy herself with his wife's bosom as he snacked on some berries and nuts.

Posted at Thor's arm, the other attendees limited themselves to quick, respectful once-overs when it came to you. A human, an exotic curiosity for many, but strictly off-limits. You were more than content to be just Thor's.

The God led you to an elevated platform on which lay a bed of the fragrant blossoms; sitting down gently at the edge, you could not resist touching the soft, shimmering petals. They were surprisingly warm and springy, returning quickly to their undisturbed state as your hand came back tinted with gold. The petals seemed welcoming, somehow, and as Thor rumbled something low and quick into the open room, you fell back easily onto the flowerbed, marveling at the sensation.

Better than anything you'd ever laid on, even Stark's multiple-thousand-dollar memory foam mattress.

The sound of Thor's outer robes falling to the floor attracted your attention. You lifted your eyes and focused on his bare chest: the god looked down on you with mischievous fondness, studying your face for any sign of discomfort. There was none to have. All of the people and their couplings fell into the background as you beheld him, beginning to scent a subtle change in the air.

A distant storm. Bittersweet smell of ozone and fresh rainfall. Crackling of electricity somewhere nearby, the kind that raised the fine hair on your arms and sent a pleasant tingle all over your scalp. Thor's thick thumb traced the bottom of your mouth, spreading the sensation over your lips.

He sat down at your side, taking the time to simply study the lines of your face: the curve of your Cupid's bow, the arch of your nose and warm apples of your cheeks. Every inch of skin sparkled alight under his touch. Parting your lips, you breathed wetly over his fingers, taking his godly nature wholly into yourself.

Holding the side of your face in his large palm, Thor pulled you upwards, easily dragging you to sit over his lap. His blue eyes stormy, a spark of electricity shot out when your mouths connected, adding sensation to the softness of your lips and the scratch of his beard. Your tongues mingled, familiarity and sweet spit pouring molten desire into your bloodstream.

For a while, you two got lost in the sensual dance of your tongues. Background noise tuned out, you felt and had Thor. His large palms stroked your bare back and legs, toed the lines of your revealing tunic without quite breaching them. Unconsciously, you had began to inch closer and closer to the growing bulge beneath his loincloth, your budding arousal just shy of exactly where you wanted it.

Thor pulled you in. Dipping under the waistband of tour garment, he thumbed the skin there, and finding no more barriers, firmly kneaded the plump cheeks of your ass. Each movement rubbed deliciously between your legs, the touch of soft silk causing more and more moisture to flood your cunt.

“Mmm, Thor,” you moaned, having had totally lost yourself in the moment and forgotten the large audience gathered below your designated space. Not that they cared, if judging only from the noises: the air had gotten thick as Thor's arousal grew and it seemed to echo in other attendees.

A low growl left the god's mouth as his hands held onto you firmer, tighter. His bare chest glistened with the same golden dust and sparks of it settled deeply within his yawning pupils. The restraint he showed was truly incredible for that you knew that look: any other time your clothing had already been ripped off in tatters and your legs hung over his shoulders.

Thor became deliciously feral when properly riled up.

With great effort, he unwrapped himself from within your arms and turned you towards the room, settling your legs open over his spread knees, your back to his chest. Your head immediately fell back to rest against his shoulder: the world came in and out of focus as you fought with the fog that always came after Thor's stormy kisses. It was not meant to be: a wet gasp tore out of your lips as your eyes lidded from the possessive nature of his palm gathering and squeezing your breast.

Rolling your nipples between his fingers, Thor grinned into your hair as tiny sparks manifested on his fingertips and hardened the tender buds. You jerked.

He held on strong. “Easy.”

You felt the rumble of that deep voice within your guts and whined, discontent with the pace of your activities. He'd barely started and your cunt was already aching to be filled.

“We must do this properly,” he explained, breathing hot ozone into your ear. “Your body must be receptive to my offering.”

What was that, exactly? Neither of you were on board with having children, at least now. But it did not mean you couldn't practice... Petulant, you pushed your ass back towards his hips and were rewarded with a particularly well-aimed tweak. You squealed. Several attendees raised their heads from various body parts and places and gave appreciative smirks.

Fine, you decided. Two can play that game.

Reaching behind yourself, your back arched as you buried your hands into Thor's hair, pushing your breasts out in the process. The loose silk garment fell apart to the sides, baring your chest and breasts along with Thor's palms kneading the meat of them. The God gave an appreciative rumble at the sensation of his hair being pulled, bending over to mouth at the shell of your ear.

“I can smell you,” he faux-whispered. “Your cunt is dripping.”

No shit, you wanted to say, but all that came out of you was a moan as he released your breasts from his sweet, ardurous clutches and went for your inner thighs instead. Sparks danced all across your flesh, caressing the soft skin there and brining a strong scent of a budding storm into your coupling.

Candlelight flickered into life as twilight fell upon the room. Thick, dark clouds gathered above the palace and behind glass panes constituting most of the roof. Fat, clear raindrops began to tap against the glass. Rich smell of plants in bloom and alimentative petrichor seeped through the cracks in-between doorways and windowsills.

Arousal sat low and heavy in your belly, curling, coiling like a snake. Every spark borne on Thor's fingertips stoked the fire. Glowing embers blossomed into a roaring fire as your blood rushed into your ears. It was incredible your body had any to spare in the first place with how wet and swollen your sex felt.

Thor had come to a personal conclusion as his hands finally traversed a path towards the front clasp of your garment. It fell apart easily, silken curtains gliding over your sensitive skin. You shuddered, fine hairs rising. They were soothed by Thor's hands brushing over your nakedness, undoing the frontal sash.

Noise had picked back up. What started as clear rainfall and rolling thunder outside the walls turned into a damp, fragrant cacophony of sex. Through lidded eyes, you spied a throuple of lovers engaged in a passionate dance of bodies. There was no discerning where one began and other ended, but one blonde head took note of your attentions and winked at you brazenly, causing you to flush.

“'tis a blessed time indeed,” Thor's rumbling chuckle came from the crown of your head. “Tell me, beloved, how do you feel?”

Forming coherent thoughts was difficult. “Hmm,” you arched further into Thor's hands, “electric.”

Your godly boyfriend laughed as he parted your legs to rest over his wide thighs. His hand made a sizeable bump under the flimsy curtain of fabric that covered your arousal, the entirety of it covered by Thor in a posessive gesture. His middle finger slid over the seam of your lips, finding it wet and sticky. Thor rumbled in satisfaction as thunder roared outside, mirroring the god's satisfaction.

Periodic flashes of lightning added an ephemeral spotlight effect onto the inhabitants of the room. It seemed like everyone was watching you. Waiting, with their unhurried movements and lovemaking at a leisurely pace. You found it hard to focus on anything else besides the throbbing in your cunt.

“Almost ripe for the picking.” Thor stated with authority, an unusual grit to his voice. And he felt larger than ever behind you, hot and slick with budding sweat, cock swollen to a steely hardness under your ass. He flicked your clit with resolute precision, coaxing your cunt into dripping more of that sweet nectar.

In the slippery mess of it, you did not notice him switching his fingers out to nudge at your entrance, the side of his thumb taking their place to stroke at your clit. Three of his large fingers slid in with next to no resistance. Your back arched with a loud moan, reticence momentarily forgotten. The walls of your cunt spasmed, trying to suck him further in. To go places only his long, fat cock could reach.

Thor was stretching you with long, fluid strokes as your cunt wept approval, sash bluntly pushed to the side, all of you on full display. Your eyes had long stuck themselves shut for that the assault of sensation had become unbearable: contrary to normal way of your activities, Thor's actions only deepened the pit in your belly. You feared it would grow bottomless, forever unable to be sated by anything you've ever experienced before.

The stares or attendees only served to darken that pit, widen the jagged edges of it. As you held on to Thor's shoulders, your legs fell further and farther open with each stroke. What little clothing had remained on your body felt strangling, suffocating on your skin. You needed to be bare as you were born, placed before your god-partner for there was nothing else you wished but him to ravish you and everyone to bear witness.

“It is time!” Thor declared, voice booming. It carried through the room effortlessly, preceding a rapid change in atmosphere and frantic rustling of clothing as people shed everything save for their birthday suits.

The God unhanded your pliant body, briefly, to thunder something in Asgardian, and laid it plainly upon the marble altar. Sounds of seams ripping joined the roaring storm outside. Heat like molten iron spread through your limbs, and when you opened your eyes to see Thor sat on his haunches, your partner's eyes glowed a brilliant white. Sparks shot from his mane and fingertips.

His large cock, erect and proud, released a drop of clear fluid. Unconsciously licking your lips you watched it trickle down the shaft, along the prominent pulsing vein. Your cunt flexed, too, seemingly having attained a mind of it's own. Thor grinned. A smile that would have been unsettling in any other situation, for it was all shiny white teeth, sharp as a wolf's.

“...!” He spoke, again in Asgardian, and you shuddered at the resonant nature of his grovelly voice. All the others cheered, sound a cacophony of moans, yelps and shrill exclamations.

Whether it was the thunder outside or the ever-present storm within him, you did not know, but with a loud rumble, Thor threw himself atop you, slamming into your swollen, open cunt in one long, smooth stroke. Powerful muscles in his back rippled under your waiting palms. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as your body went limp.

This Thor did not hold back.

Vikings had ritualistic orgies, so why the hell not Asgard? I read this fic some four years ago that since had been deleted with a similar core idea and it has sort of cemented in my brain. Latest MCU has us thinking that Thor is just some guy with a hammer but I like fics that - not necessarily delve - but tie in his divine aspect. Like, he is a God even on his own planet. Additionally, I've always been dead set on Thor having a brown or a black S/O. Not sure why exactly... But this was written with black girls in mind. Especially the gold dust part. Have y'all seen how beautiful golden shimmer looks on dark skin? 🥹

[sincerelyverena]

Hello, I love your Saltburn Felix fics!!! 🌹

I’ve got a request for Felix x reader if you feel inspired by the idea. The reader is a friend of Venetia’s who comes to stay with them, develops a crush on Felix, & to pass the summer they all sometimes pull pranks on each other. One night Farleigh locks the reader out of her room & Venetia isn’t opening hers so she makes her way to Felix’s who happily let’s her in but also gives her more than just a warm bed for the night

*wink wink*

absolutely adored writing this, y'all are so creative. love you all!

⟡⁺ LOCKED OUT OF HEAVEN

. . . FELIX CATTON X FEM!READER ‘cause your sex takes me to paradise’

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒your stay at saltburn has been plagued with relentless pranks to pass the time, one in which drives you straight to felix's doorstep.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐reader is shy asf ﹐praise kink ﹐the household driving each other insane ﹐i missed writing everybody's dynamic

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @no-baths-for-stan﹐@deadshowsagency

It won’t be that bad, Venetia said. The boys won’t bother you. You had believed her soon enough, deciding it wouldn’t be that bad to stay with her and her family in their estate during the summer.

That is until a prank war erupted.

“Farleigh, I’m going to fuckin’ murder you.” Venetia’s holler rang out throughout the halls of Saltburn that evening. Her bare feet stomped through the floors, leaving wet prints in her wake as she burst into her perpetrator's room.

You hovered behind her. Eyes rounded and watering with effort, you had coughed back a laugh at the sight of her typically platinum strands dyed a faded, radioactive green. You witnessed before your eyes that the others lacked that same composure. Farleigh burst out in exclamation, whilst Felix and Oliver — whom Venetia titles behind his back “Felix’s new toy” — doubled over, cackling at the sight.

Thankfully, the dye was temporary, or blood would’ve been shed in Saltburn that night. Instead, in its wake, it had broken out into endless days of pranks. How else was one supposed to pass one’s time in the castle of the house you were residing in?

In that time, you had grown acquainted with the Catton family (and Oliver). At first, you were somewhat hesitant, preferring to stick by Venetia. But with the introduction of the stunts pulled on one another, you had no choice but to step out of your comfort zone. Especially when Venetia hung up your lingerie outside of your window for all of Saltburn to see, moving the others to do the same with their own scandalous garments. 

Little did you know, it came in handy that night. More handy than you could ever imagine.

It was late at night. You had accompanied the others and taken a night swim, with a swig of alcohol or two. You were more than ready for bed. Towel tucked around your frame, you shuffled down the dimmed corridor towards the room you were staying in for the summer. Your hair was scarcely blow-dried. You blew out a puff of hair in front of your tired eyes as you tried the door handle, only to find it was locked.

You wiggled the handle once, twice, then three times only to discover that somebody had locked you out of your room. And then you thought it was too late for pranks.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you cussed under your breath.

You dragged your feet, slightly pissed off at the fact you were unable to head to bed at this time of the hour. You approached Venetia’s room, which was one door down. Palm on the door handle, you tried it, to see it was also locked.

“Venetia,” you called out, voice echoing throughout the hall.

Spying through the crack in the door, it was completely dark in her room. After a few beats of silence, you pressed against the handle again. Concluding that Venetia was knocked out completely, you turn away. 

With nothing more than a towel around your shoulders, billowing at your feet like a ghost, you stalked the quiet halls of Saltburn. A shiver jolted down your spine at the deathly atmosphere. You knew there were a few more spare rooms on the other side of the estate, but you weren’t completely sure where. You aimlessly walked around in the shadows for what seemed to be minutes, maybe even an hour, before you spied illumination at the end of the corridor.

You sped up the pace, feet hitting the floor. Speaking to one of the guys about this was unnecessarily embarrassing, but you truly had no choice.

There was a visible hesitation in your movements as you stood in front of the room at the end of the hall. You raised a single fist to the door. Blowing out a breath through your cheeks before you knocked, the sound alone reverberated throughout the length of the otherwise empty foyer.

There was a shuffle or two from inside the room in question, the doorknob giving a warning rattle before the door itself swung open. Felix took up the majority of the doorway as he stared down at you, a velvet robe messily tied around his towering frame. “Oh, [Y/N]. That’s your name, right?” He wasn’t intending to hide the note of surprise as he recognised you through the shadow of darkness you were practically camouflaged into. “Is everything alright?”

It was at that moment that you realised how utterly ripped Felix was. In the soft glow of his bedroom behind him, the light highlighted the ripple of muscle that the fabric of the robe tightened around. Crescendoing at his chest, which would be delving into the garment at his shoulders. Serving as a tease to your eyes.

Felix raised an eyebrow at your silence, prompting you to respond.

It was an effort to stop yourself from staring further at his man-tits. “Uh. Yeah. Someone locked me out of my room,” you fumbled to explain, pointing an awkward thumb back towards the dark corridor you had stumbled from.

“So you walked all the way here?”

You paused. Yeah, you kind of did. “Venetia wasn’t opening her door.”

Felix hesitated for a second, looking at you with some sort of twisted pity for your situation. Before he proceeded to step aside, revealing the entirety of his room. It was cluttered, in a charming way. A four-poster bed frame in blue, with a handful of clothes tossed over the top. A velvet-trimmed couch, cornered with a coffee table that held a glass of half-drunken scotch. The lamp by Felix’s bed sourced the room’s illumination.

“Well, are you going to come inside?” The hue of his voice dragged you from the wide-eyed examination of your surroundings. Felix had moved from the doorway to the side of his bed, where he sipped the remaining substance in the glass.

You stepped through. “Oh, I was just wondering if I could get my room unlocked.”

Felix looked at you over the drink in his clasp. He laughed. Like, actually laughed. Then his face abruptly fell at the blank look you gave in turn, he rose to his feet. “You’re serious? You think I’m gonna turn you away?”

“Never really said that.”

Your words went unanswered. Felix peered down at you, the sharp hinges of his face illuminated by the lamp behind him. His eyes flickered downwards, further towards your body. You could’ve flushed at the attention, but instead, you felt a brewing heat blossom at your cheeks at the realisation you were in nothing but a towel.

“Why not sleep here tonight?” Felix decided at once, eyes lingering on the fluffy material covering the entirety of your physique. “There’s clothes ova’ in the drawer there.”

You looked down, clutching the fabric to your body. The fact Felix was so willing to wave away your requests was a little annoying, but what else could you do?

“Okay,” you murmured, before turning to shuffle toward the set of cabinets he referred to. Felix was scary to you, yet he was very, very attractive. Which was a scarier combination. 

You pulled out a drawer, before plucking out a shirt and a pair of shorts too big for your liking. Glancing over your bare shoulder, you spied Felix sitting on the farthest side of the bed. Back facing you, there was a cigarette in his mouth now. He was preoccupied enough for you to change without a prevalent worry, leaving you dressed in a shirt that covered your knees and a pair of shorts you had to roll at your hips.

Felix tapped the drug stick in his fingers on a nearby ashtray, raising his head at the sound of the drawer thudding shut. He watched as you folded up the material of the towel between your hands, placing it aside to return the next morning.

”You smoke?” he inquired, nudging the open pack of cigarettes towards you. Felix asked a lot of questions, and the attention was something that made you feel hot in a plethora of ways.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “A little.”

Felix peered at you expectantly, causing you to step forwards to grab one of the cigarettes in the pack. You only smoked with Venetia, but you guessed both of the Catton siblings had a similar indulgence in things that could kill them. 

You watched as Felix snatched a lighter from the coffee table a few feet before them, flicking it open. A flame hissed in the air, illuminating the rough skin of his hands as he pointed the device towards the end of your cigarette. It caught aflame, positioning you to bring the drug stick to your lips.

Inhaling, you felt the familiar, addictive buzz it gave. It caused you to feel a little more relaxed in Felix’s presence, although the intense look in his eyes as he stared at you left you ever so flushed.

”You don’t say much, do you?” Felix observed.

You blew a mouthful of smoke into the air. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little.”

You mustered up the guts to glare at him.

Felix only laughed, cigarette fumes billowing from his nostrils. The sheets underneath the both of you crinkled, he had somehow shuffled an inch closer towards you. Until your knees were practically touching and you felt high off of your nerves alone.

”You know, you don’t look half bad in my things,” he proceeded to compliment you, raking his gaze from your eyes downwards until he lingered upon the curve of your legs.

Before you could string a heap of words together in a half-fumbled response, Felix reached down to grab the bottom of his shirt at your torso. He tugged down the thick fabric until it covered the bulge of your knee.

The movement felt oddly intimate, especially when Felix raised his stare to meet your own.

You lowered your head, suddenly flustered. Your cigarette lay dormant in your hand. “Thanks.”

You felt a rough palm holster onto the line of your jaw, forcing your eyes back upward. The pad of Felix’s thumb absentmindedly raked the suppleness of your lower lip, sending a shockwave of warmth to bolt down your entire body. You froze in place, suddenly unsure of what to exactly do in this situation. But before you were able to make up your mind, Felix leant in.

And he kissed you.

Kissing Felix was like kissing anybody. But a certain power drove behind the sloppiness of his lips and the hunger of his motions. You regained movement, unable to help yourself but to kiss him back. You could taste the distant hues of scotch in his breath, and you were certain he could make out the bitterness of cigarette smoke on yours.

Felix’s hand met the curve of your hip, drawing you in until you discovered yourself perched up on his lap. The robe he wore did little to hide the girth of his cock that pressed against the velvet fabric. Venetia had told you how thick he was, but you had brushed that aside, slightly unsure why your best friend knew how big her brother’s dick was.

You tilted your neck back, inviting Felix to move his mouth from your lips towards the column of your throat. He pulled himself back momentarily to speak. “So, you’re a virgin, yeah?”

A small smile perked at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your palm further against the centre of his chest. You had to admit, you were slightly distracted by the feel of his erection against you. ”You think so? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Felix dipped his head to stifle his laugh. The hand that was propped at the curve of your hip moved to the dip of your ass, squeezing it somewhat.

“Surprised?”

“Yeah, kinda. You seem like the virgin type, excuse me. It’s cute, though. I like it,” Felix continued to ramble onwards like he typically did, looking deep into your eyes. “I like you.”

Then his lips were on yours again, and you had no other thought.

As Felix’s lips moved against your own, you felt the pad of his fingers slip underneath the fabric of your shorts. Teasingly. It was clear what his intentions were, and your stomach fluttered at the thought. Especially as his lips pulled back from your own, moving towards your ear. Warm breath fanning. “I wanna to be able to fuck you, [Y/N]. Could I do that? Could I fuck you senseless?”

You fidgeted with the muscle of his chest, palm pressed against the centre. You glanced up at him, staring at him through your eyelashes. “I’d let you do anything to me, Felix.”

The words you had articulated caused a foreign heat to alight in his eyes. His hands clutched the curve of your hips before he raised you from his lap to the underneath of his Herculean body. Your back pressed against the soft belly of the comforter of Felix’s bed with his length straining along your clothed entrance.

The two of you both fumble simultaneously to loosen your respective garments until Felix’s cock began to enter you. You groaned with effort as you adjusted to his girth. 

“You doin’ alright, darling?” Felix checked in, he was only a few inches in. “Need me to stop?”

You shook your head, almost desperate to soothe the burn of arousal in your abdomen. “I can handle it.”

“Good girl.”

Without another word, Felix pushed the rest of his length inside of you. He had fit you perfectly, filling you to the brim. It took you a few moments to adjust before he began to move. The sound of your wetness squelching around him bounced against the walls. You curved into him, soft gasps escaping you.

Felix felt otherworldly inside of you, the muscle of his dick pressed against your clenched walls. Hitting against your G-Spot, he began to thrust in and out inside of you, stealing a rather strangled moan from the depths of your throat.

Before you could make any other noise, Felix pressed the saucer of his palm against your mouth. Stifling anything that would follow. “Shh, Ollie’s asleep next door. We don’t wanna wake him up now, do we?”

Felix only removed his hand when you nodded, fingers lingering by your lower lip before he continued to pound inside of you. His pace merely quickened by the second. Even Felix was unable to hold back the soft grunts that slipped from him as he gripped onto the vicinity of your hips, moulding himself into you.

No matter how good of a fuck Felix was, it was obvious his cock had a mind of its own. You could feel it twitch inside of you, even as that familiar pressure built at the base of your spine. 

“[Y/N],” Felix grunted under his breath.

And with a couple more thrusts, Felix pulled his length from your wetness with a pop. His girth collapsed upon your abdomen before he came all over your bare stomach. You were quick to reach down to drag your fingers around his cock, helping him to ride out his orgasm.

But Felix wasn’t to forget about you, was he? He was quick to replace his length with his fingers. Which he pumped in and out of you repeatedly. “Is this good for you, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you moaned aloud, suddenly careless of whoever was asleep next door. A part of you hoped you would be loud enough to wake up Venetia who slept on the other side of the estate. “Felix, right there.”

Felix lowered his head, plastering his lips against your neck. “Good girl, I want to feel your pussy cumming around my fingers. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

You sang his praises as he pressed the pad of his fingers against a spot that made your head spin. “My God, yes.” 

Without another word, you felt yourself reach your climax. Your hips stuttered, and you absentmindedly arched yourself against Felix’s hand. Walls clenching around the length of his fingers, you gasped and spluttered as wave after wave of pleasure smashed into you completely. Leaving you to be a shaking, trembling mess.

Felix pulled his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to your lips. He watched as you sucked on his fingers, tasting yourself. “You’re so fucking hot. That’s the loudest I’ve ever heard you.”

You merely smiled around his digits, suddenly at a loss for words. But before you could compose yourself to respond, the door burst open. You immediately turn your head, caught off guard by the sudden sound.

“Fi, you think we should unlock her door now or what?”

Farleigh stood in the doorway, illumination catching onto his many coils. His face turned into one of realisation at the sight of you and his cousin so vulnerable on the top of his bed. Surprise flittered his dark eyes before a grin broke his lips.

He whistled at your bare form. “Looking good, honey.”

Felix snatched his shirt from above your head to cover your exposed breasts. “Farleigh, you know you should’ve knocked.”

Farleigh doesn’t look apologetic in the slightest. Instead, he turned upon his heel and began to return to the penumbra of darkness he had come from. “Maybe lock your door next time, and stop being so damn loud.”

Cheeks flushed, you turned your head to see Felix grinning down at you. He took amusement in the fact Farleigh walked into the both of you. And perfectly unaware that you hadn’t missed what his cousin stated in the first place.

“So, were you going to wait after you fucked me to tell me you were in on it?”

Felix paled.

WORD COUNT: 3K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[jesswritesthat]

Aoba-Johsai: That One

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.5k, fluff, humour

• You were certain you could avoid extracurriculars in high school, so when unexpectedly roped into the volleyball club, you’re difficult - much like the players who come with it.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

Why you'd actually attended one of these overzealous events still mystified you, the outcome unaffected whether you were present or off galavanting elsewhere like you'd originally intended - but it was a sense of duty that kept you in the stadium that morning. In fact, watching fellow classmates of Aoba Johsai compete in their Volleyball match had made you forget why you usually avoided such things in the first place.

"Ready? Okay - Go Oikawa, you're amazing!" The girlish screams of neighbouring spectators caused you to wince at their volume, followed by a bunch of giggles as the Setter shot them a charming smile.

Ah. That was why.

You held no resentment toward the Setter as you'd never become acquainted enough to make such judgments, nor were you one of his devoted fangirls either (unlike the majority of squealing females in your proximity) - but the unlimited flattery he was bathed in at school was another story.

"Whose that one, y'know the guy ready to throttle Oikawa?" Came your causal tone when politely questioning the girls and vaguely gesturing to the male being restrained by his teammate.

"Oh, that's Iwaizumi Hajime, he's the Ace of the team." One of them happily replied, to which you mischievously hummed in approval.

"Iwaizumi huh..."

It shocked them further when you leaned over the railing, shouting down to the teams below with sadistic enjoyment lacing your tone.

"Get him Iwaizumi! Throttle him will you?"

The unconventional encouraging cheer caught the teams’ attention over the contrastingly gushing ones, any tension Iwaizumi held was replaced by confusion and Oikawa exchanged a quizzical glance with him. Interested eyes befell your relaxed figure up by the railing as you smirked down rather proudly with the Setter pouting at your remark.

"Well would you look at that? I got the whole teams attention..." The trio of fangirls remained dumbfounded at how you'd achieved such a feat considering you barely knew their names whilst you gave a kind smile before turning back to the skeptical glances of Seijoh.

"I hope you guys win or whatever, all the best." You offered little more than a careless salute as you left, the Ace mirroring the gesture with a raised brow.

"I stand corrected Iwa-chan, I suppose one girl was watching you rather than me."

—

Much to the Teams' unanimous chagrin, you remained an elusive enigma ever since that game, leaving them enchanted by your first unorthodox impression. Yet, due to lack of identification and only a brief distant glance of characteristics, they couldn't track you down no matter their efforts.

Fortunately for them, Coach Mizoguchi requested your presence in the gym as you'd expected since he was the one who'd encouraged you to watch a game in the first place and were prepared for a mild scolding.

"(L/n), you've just started your second year and you need to dedicate yourself more..." Coach Mizoguchi gave an exasperated sigh, almost as if begging you to become enthused with motivation.

Instead, you offered a haphazard shrug with a sense of innocence exuding from your figure despite the matter-of-fact tone you'd donned.

"I attended the game."

"And left." The Coach emphasised, bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"In my defence, you never specified how long I had to stay, only that I show up - which I did." You wittily returned and due to being a family friend, Sadayuki was accustomed to such characteristics.

"That wasn't the point of the activity (Y/n)..."

"Look, I'll just tell the headmaster you did your best or whatever and that sport isn't my thing okay? Win win for the both of us." Coach Irihata eavesdropped on the exchange from his place on the bench, watching as you waved off his colleague with a pleased smile before being interrupted by the entry of the players.

Oikawa immediately recognised you, a heart stopping grin already decorating his lips and enhancing his cheery voice.

"(L/n)-chan~ Iwa won that game for you by the way."

Since you had the intention of leaving anyway, you spun to meet the second year players rather cooley with a skeptical brow before locking eyes with a grinning Tōru. Once again, it was his scowling partner that caught your attention as you side stepped the Setter to address Iwaizumi.

"Hey, did you get him in the end?"

"Hm? Yeah, for something else though - and this." The player was surprised at first, features softening ever so slightly prior to issuing a proud smirk as he slapped Oikawa upside the head for his initial greeting.

"Nice, later guys."

The entire team collectively followed your figure out, diverting their gaze back to their Head Coach who wore a suspiciously conniving smile - one that signified a plan had been set in motion.

Admittedly, you found the following ordeal rather infuriating, consistently being summoned to the gymnasium for trivial circumstances by both Coaches - who also had the audacity to request favours under the pretence that 'it's not like you have an extracurricular to attend'.

It was refreshing for the team however, to have a classmate in their presence who wasn't drawn in solely for their pretty Setter and instead would contribute to his mockery. You didn't realise the consequences of your actions at that point, nor recognise the underlying scheming taking place ever since you'd first walked into the gymnasium seven months ago - not until you'd been dragged to the final tournament of the year. In their bus.

—

Since you were able to miss the previous two tournaments, you figured this would be no different. Afterall you’d (reluctantly) attended every practice match they’d had, including those at other schools, and (begrudgingly) helped out at their training camps due to Irihata-Senseis’ unrelenting insistence. Unfortunately your theoretical exemption pass had expired as you now stood before the sport centre reception desk with an exasperated expression.

"And whose this?" The registrar curiously questioned, faltering in his notes once marking off the Coaches’ names.

You were ready to excuse yourself to get some lunch, understanding that only team associates were allowed access beyond this point, and by the puzzled expression of Seijoh they hadn't really thought of that.

"The team manager." Coach Irihata victoriously smirked, his original goal finally coming to fruition, and in the midst of sniggering players you could only glare at Mizoguchi who 'feigned innocence'.

They conspired against you this whole damn time?! For this?!

Safe to say lunch would have to wait much like your revenge as Mattsun and Makki prevented escape by slinging their arms around you and ushering you through the doors ripping you all the while.

—

"Why me?"

You didn't spare a glance to Coach Irihata who now sat beside you on the bench during the teams’ preparation time, the gentleman flicking to your jaded expression that screamed murder which caused him to chuckle.

"Because (L/n), you managed to get the entire teams’ attention in the midst of a match seven months ago."

"Tch, knew I should've skipped it." Was your bitter reply, still aggravated by the fact they’d concocted this elaborated scheme just for a shot at getting you to agree to a position you didn’t even apply for.

"I'm glad you didn't, they've been more lively since you've attended practices whether to impress you or due to the atmosphere you bring I'm not certain." Irihata calmly explained with a fond smile, one you were all to glad to sarcastically amend.

"Attended practice? You and Coach Mizoguchi kept requesting me."

"Well I'm far too old to be filling water bottles (L/n)."

"Sure..." That alongside aiding individual members, setting up the court, and generally lending assistance anywhere necessary whenever you were present.

It was silent for a moment, one of contemplation and reflection on the time you’d spent with the VBC before Coach spoke once more. This time out of consideration.

"If you really don't want to be apart of this then you can quit after this game, Mizoguchi has logged your time here for your report anyhow. I just ask that you lend your support to them once, it'll mean more than you believe."

"Yo, (L/n)."

You snapped to the current Captain who’d approached the bench, standing to meet your upperclassmen with a hint of confusion regarding his somewhat relaxed demeanour.

"This'll be the last tournament for us third years, so you've gotta look after the team once we're gone okay? Oikawa will no doubt be an interesting Captain."

"Aye, the second years are in the changing rooms arguing over who gets to buy you lunch. I think you're set (Y/n) but we're still counting on you." The vice captain joined you now, resting an arm on his friends shoulder with a knowing smile.

In response, you proudly nodded as the two jogged onto the court wearing cheerful grins and you once more sat beside a smug Coach Irihata.

"Fine. One tournament, got it? And no more memos to my teachers after this."

"Deal."

Credit to him, the Coach upheld his end of the bargain with no invites requiring your presence in the gymnasium - even after the final practice of your second year. Of course, by then, you willingly showed up to meet your team for practices and remained until they were over, occasionally devoting extra hours if one of those idiots were determined to hone their skills.

But that’s just the start of managing the Seijoh VBC, especially with third year ahead of you.

<——————————<<<<

A/N: Are we feeling more of this? Because I have ideas for another part… please let me know, thank you!

[ Masterlist ]

[gloomwitchwrites]

An Unexpected Catch: Boromir x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: brief suggestive themes

Word Count: 2.2k

Chapter Two // Chapter Four

While investigating an attack on a Gondorian settlement, Boromir finds himself run through with a sword and tossed into a nearby river. When death seems dangerously near, Boromir’s body washes up to shore, tangled in a fishing net. A young woman living alone finds Boromir and brings him home to care for him. As Boromir physically heals, he finds that his heart is also missing something important.

ao3 // main masterlist // an unexpected catch masterlist

Wisps of steam rise from the bath water. Going to your knees beside the wooden tub, you cross your arms and rest them along the edge. Boromir’s head turns in your direction, his chest rising and falling steadily as he soaks.

“I’m here,” you reply to his command—to stay.

The softness in his brow is subtle but clear. He called you an angel—his guardian and savior. While you disregard the notion, it still lingers in the back of your skull. Affection. Like dust that you continuously attempt to sweep up but never manage to gather it all. Whispers of affection, particles littering your thoughts.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “For pulling me from the river.”

You smile softly. “You were tangled up in my fishing net. Wouldn’t have found you otherwise.”

“But you did,” he says, and you look away from the tenderness in his gaze, pretending to smooth the wrinkles in your apron. “Fate smiled upon me. Turned me toward you.”

“It surely did. Perhaps it knew that I’m always willing to help a stranger.”

Boromir withdraws his arm from the water, resting it on the edge of the tub. The water that still clings to his skin glistens in the light of the fire. His hand grips the lip, fingers just shy of brushing against your elbow.

“Would that we could be more.”

“More than what?” you inquire, glancing at him.

“Strangers.”

An instant heat sparks in your chest, moving up your neck and down to a space between. It is difficult to maintain eye contact, to hold his stare like he is. Boromir seems to pierce right through you, wedging inside with the intention of cracking that fissure until it becomes a canyon.

“Acquaintances then,” you concur.

“Or friends?” suggests Boromir.

“As you like,” you reply softly.

Boromir makes a sound in his throat like a pleased groan. “I would, angel.”

Your heartbeat quickens. You rub your sweaty palms against your apron. This conversation is leading into deeper things, and while entertaining the idea sounds nice, Boromir needs rest. As do you.

“You should rest,” you encourage. “Wash up and I’ll help you to bed.”

As you place your hands on the lip of the tube to push yourself up to standing, Boromir reaches out, grasping your wrist.

“I’d like it if you stayed.”

“To watch you bathe?” you laugh.

A gentle flush appears, dusting his cheeks in pink. “The company would be nice.”

“I can sit here if that is what you wish.”

Boromir releases your wrist and eases back into the tub, muscles relaxing now that you’ve agreed to keep him company. Even injured and vulnerable, he is handsome. Rugged. Almost…princely. Your gaze drifts away from his face, traveling along to take in every taut muscle and exposed scar. An urge appears, whispering for you to touch him. If only for a moment.

You swallow, shaking the thought away.

“Would you like silence?” you ask. “Or conversation?”

His sigh is deep but calming. “Your voice,” he whispers. “That’s all I want to hear.”

You almost stutter over yourself. “My voice?” you question. “And what is it you want me to say?”

“Anything,” he breathes. “I simply want to know you’re here with me.”

Affection. Must be. Which is an absurdly silly thing. A day and this man speaks to you with such tenderness that it crosses the line of familiarity. Out here, living alone with your father, only traveling into the nearest village on occasion, you have met few men of marriageable age. Is this stirring low in your stomach simply a reaction to something you’ve yet to encounter?

“Then I shall talk.”

As Boromir’s eyes close in contentment, you begin. Without knowing where the best place to start is, you tell him about your home, about the animals and what you would be doing if he hadn’t washed up into your fishing net. Boromir listens, only asking questions when there is a lull between thoughts. It’s easy. Natural. An existence of peace that you haven’t felt in a long time. You tell him about yourself and about your father. Childhood memories are shared along with your favorite flowers.

When you attempt to goad him into revealing things about himself, Boromir does so, but with just a touch of hesitation. You gleam pieces of him, but not enough to create a picture. Still, he indulges you, and it pleases you that he’s trying. An injury like his, though clean, requires energy to heal. The fact that he hasn’t dozed off while bathing is a miracle.

You dip your hand into the water. “It’s going cold,” you observe. “Think it’s time for you to emerge.”

“To bed, then.”

Boromir places his hands firmly on the either side of the tub. With a deep groan, he pushes himself up out of the water. As your grab a fresh, warm blanket to wrap him in, your gaze drops, and then quickly diverts. You didn’t mean to catch a glimpse, but your body responds anyway, a tease of feeling that you crush.

With your cheeks flaming, you hold the blanket up, blocking your view of his nakedness. He manages to help himself out of the tub.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, wrapping it around himself.

“Would you like to sit in front of the fire?”

“Please.”

With an arm at his back, you escort him to a chair before the hearth, easing him down slowly. Boromir winces but recovers quickly. Tea is poured, the two of you enjoying the bit of quiet as night descends.

“I still need to bandage the wound. Put a healing salve on it.”

Boromir inclines his head. “The pain is bearable.”

“Is it?” you ask, leaning forward a bit. “Are you deceiving me?”

He adjusts. “Had worse. Bloodier wounds. Broken bones.”

“Ever the soldier.”

Boromir glances at you, his smile sad and grim. “As my father commands.”

He didn’t mention his father during your conversation. In fact, he hardly spoke of his family. And command. An interesting choice. It might speak to more than fatherly guidance. Your own father commands you in a way, but that’s not what you’d call it. Command is an order. It negates choice.

“You’ll heal quickly,” you condole. “And then you’ll go home. All will be well.” You glance at his tea. “More?”

“Please.”

“Warm enough?” you ask, pouring more tea into his mug.

“The tea is perfect,” he says with a hint of confusion.

You laugh. “Not the tea. Are you warm enough?” You incline your head toward the hearth.

“Yes.” Boromir’s brow is soft. You turn away from him, looking into the fire as a distraction.

“I’ve remade the bed. Put on fresh sheets.”

“You’re sweet,” he murmurs.

Your breath catches. He reaches out. Hands meet and you do not pull away. It’s a simple touch. Nothing of importance. But to you, it changes everything.

“When you’re done with your tea, I’ll help you there.”

You don’t finish yours, unable to do much other than stew over his hand holding yours. Helping Boromir into the bedroom isn’t difficult. Some strength has returned to him, and he stands on his own. When he’s on his back and under the blankets, you roll them down enough to expose the wound.

Salve is made. A bandage applied.

“There,” you murmur, smoothing the bandage flat. “Rest. I’ll check on you in the morning.”

As you pull away, Boromir reaches out again, grasping your wrist in that same hold from earlier when you sat beside the tub.

He tugs softly, urging you back to him. “Wait,” he whispers. “Come here.”

You sit on the bed beside him, your stomach twisting like corded knots. It is warm where he touches you, and you want to feel that everywhere. His thumb brushes against your pulse point, and you know that he must sense how fast it races.

“May I have one more thing from you?”

“Only one?”

“Indulge me. For a moment,” he sighs. “A kiss.”

You lick your lips, startled. “That is indulgent.”

Boromir’s gaze drops to your lips, assessing your mouth. “It’s only one.”

You dance toward the edge, and leap. “Then you shall have it.”

Shifting closer, you lean toward him, offering yourself. Boromir accepts it, offering himself in kind. It is chaste. Only a press of the lips. But as it lingers—it deepens. His hand finds the back of your neck, and his thumb brushes against your cheek. One becomes two becomes three. You lose count, simply enjoying the fluttering in your chest and the softness of his lips. Boromir smells faintly of the floral soap you provided him.

Who breaks first is a mystery. Perhaps it’s you. Maybe him. But there is separation. Sharp inhales and frantic breathing.

“You should rest,” you say quickly, drawing back and pressing your hand to your chest.

Boromir’s gaze is heavy-lidded. Wanton. “Yes,” he agrees, settling back against the bed.

“Sleep well,” you say at the door, making a quick exit to the safety of your bedroom.

The next few days, Boromir mostly remains in bed. You replace the bandage and reapply healing salve when you think it’s needed. For a few minutes every hour, you help him out of bed, the two of you walking the interior of the small cottage to give his muscles some work.

Every day is a minor improvement. A subtle shift toward healing.

The walks become longer, moving to the surrounding garden, and then further still. Sometimes, Boromir walks on his own with you nearby. Other times, he leans on you for support for a portion of it. The stitches holding the wound together stay strong. A good sign that the body is accepting it and working on restoring itself.

Another few days, and Boromir is moving on his own without your support. He smiles more, peppers you with compliments. Kisses always follow. They start gentle, but always devolve, becoming more than simple affection. Boromir’s hands explore, gripping and grabbing, holding you flush against him. There is intention, and though neither of you take it further, the tension continues to flower—continues to expand until it feels as if it will drown you.

“Boromir,” you gasp, as he pins you against the wall, his hands cradling your face as he goes in for a passionate meeting.

His groan is honey-tinged, and there is no denying the boldness that presses against your belly. This is something you know, something you’ve heard talk about but never experienced for yourself. The animals are free in their mating, but from what you understand, it is not always as they do.

But you want it with him. Every ounce of you earns for such a thing. While neither of you have explicitly expressed it, the need is there. It is in the way he gazes at you when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s in the way he whispers your name, or how his fingers brush against your arm in passing. How simple and bold and yet so quiet. No words spoken of it but movements that shout volumes.

“I couldn’t resist,” he murmurs against your lips. “I cannot restrain myself around you.”

Several weeks have passed, and his wound is mostly healed. There is no reason for him to linger, to stay in your home and share your space. Yet he remains at your side, helping you tidy up, feeding the animals, assisting when and where he can. Boromir is filling the gap that you never knew was present.

You giggle, and Boromir reaches down to push the skirts of your dress upward to your hips. Hand touches bare thigh, and the two of you inhale together.

“We—we cannot.”

Boromir’s hands promptly leave and find landing on your hips. “Forgive me. I lost myself.”

“No. It’s—it’s not that.”

Boromir nuzzles your cheek. “Do not explain yourself. I simply enjoy your presence too much to contain myself sometimes. Not touching you, not being near you is agony. I must always know you’re close. Even if you’re across the room.”

“How is the wound?” you ask, shifting subjects because you cannot bare to answer him, to express the reflection of him that dwells inside you.

“Nearly closed. You do fine work.”

“That is good.” You lick your lips, pulling inward. “It means that you can leave. You can return home.”

“Yes,” he replies slowly. “To Minas Tirith.”

“Your family must be so worried over you. Not knowing where you are or what has happened. They deserve to know you’re well.”

He nods. “True. But they likely think me fallen. I am a man of the sword.”

“But you are also a man of honor.”

“Is that what you think?” he chuckles. “Even when I grab for you so boldly when you are not my wife?”

You place your hands against his chest and playfully shove. “Indeed. You are not my husband.”

Boromir’s smile is so warm and full of affection that you melt under it. “And what if I were your husband? Would you have me then?”

“Is that all you want from me? To be had?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “Long have I been drifting. With you, I’ve only known peace. Contentment. You are not my ship or anchor but my compass. I was adrift. But now I know nothing but calm seas and a forward path.”

“Steady on then,” you reply, tilting your face toward him, offering your mouth.

“Right to you,” he says just before the gap melts away and there is nothing else in this world than the two of you together.

[arget-star]

For Thy Sweet Love

Umemiya Hajime x F!Reader

tags: fluff, reader and ume are married with two kids, not beta read. if you see any spelling mistakes, no you don't

wc: 2k

about: There's someone new at the park today. Umemiya, happily married with two kids, isn't a fan of how this man gravitates towards you

“My nephew loves this park,” says a voice to your right. You glance over, unsure if the young man is talking to you or into a phone you can’t see. He catches your eye and grins—no phone, then. “Last week, he said the swings were his favorite, and now he claims the slides are the most fun he’s ever had.”

He sticks out a hand in greeting. “Nishida Hideo. A pleasure to meet you.”

There’s no harm in making a new acquaintance at the park. It’s nice, knowing the other frequent visitors, making your trips here less lonely on the days Hajime’s stuck at work. Puts you at ease, surrounded by people you can chat with. You accept his handshake, offering your name in return, silently appreciative his touch doesn’t linger once you gently pull your hand away. “How old is your nephew?”

“Six. He’s the little terror currently reigning as king atop the slides,” Hideo replies, tilting his head in the direction of said slides. You follow the gesture, eyes landing on a little boy whose black hair has the same cowlick as his uncle’s. His tiny fists are planted atop his hips, mouth moving as he explains the rules of whatever game he and your son—also six—have created. At least, you hope it’s just silly rules, instead of something rude or the age old you can’t play with me.

You squint a little, right hand raising to shield your face, and see the smile on your Yuzuru’s face. That same wide, open grin he inherited from his dad. Your lips quirk up as you turn back to Nishida. “He seems to rule his subjects well.”

“Is that your son up there?”

“Mhm. Also six. He loves making new friends.” Yet another thing he inherited from Hajime. Nishida’s nephew shouts something, raising his tiny arms up and stepping aside. Yuzuru, with a loud laugh also courtesy of his father—honestly, you’d hardly know Yuzuru was also yours if he hadn’t inherited your hair color—positions himself belly-down on the slide. Pushing himself with his arms, he goes flying, landing in the woodchips covering the park ground, giggling like a maniac all the while. You sigh fondly; you’ll be cleaning woodchips off him until bath time tonight.

Nishida’s nephew follows suit as soon as Yuzuru stands up. They brush themselves off, then climb back up the staircase next to the slides, presumably to do it all over again. A handful of woodchips cling to the back of your boy’s shirt, and his fellow conspirator has one stuck to his cheek.

“To be a child again,” Nishida says wistfully. “They make me tired just watchin’ them.”

A small snort escapes you. “Try parenting. It’s just as exhausting as you think it is, and yet, there’s nothing in the world I love more. Do you watch your nephew often?”

Nishida gives you a sidelong glance, like he doesn’t quite believe how people could willingly love something so tiresome. “Every couple weeks or so. My sister and her husband own a shop on market street. I try to help out by takin’ him off their hands.”

Yuzuru flies down the slides again. This time, when he pops back up, he gives you a wave. You eagerly wave back; some days, you can hardly believe the tiny baby you once cradled in your arms every night has grown into such a big kid.

“That’s kind of you. Which shop—” You begin to ask, cutting off as movement catches in the corner of your eye. A newcomer has arrived at the playground in the form of your three and a half year old daughter. Shiori’s tiny pigtails bounce as she toddles along, calling for her big brother. You smile again—she’s fearless, so long as Yuzuru’s around. The boy in question momentarily abandons his game, turning towards his sister. You tilt your head, looking for Hajime. He shouldn’t be too far behind your runaway girl.

Nishida, now busy shouting a hello to his nephew, misses the commotion. Just as well; despite the sunny day, a shiver unexpectedly runs down your spine as you finally spot your husband’s approaching figure.

Umemiya Hajime is not a jealous man.

Protective, certainly, and fiercely loyal to those he loves. Never once in all the years you’ve been together has he acted out of jealousy.

Yet now, you feel the same aura that so frightened any and all who opposed Bofurin and commanded the utmost respect from his fellow members. You think Nishida asks you something, but all your focus rests on Hajime, wondering what, exactly, has ruffled his feathers.

He grows closer, features becoming distinct, and it’s then you notice the edge to his smile, the hard glint in his eyes. The tails of his coat snap behind him, in time with his purposeful strides. He doesn’t look like a father who just spent the last twenty minutes calming down his tearful little girl from a scraped knee.

Umemiya Hajime looks every inch the former leader of Bofurin.

An arm wraps around your waist before you can think of anything to say. His right arm, you note, which he uses to tug you closer. You spare a glance first for your children—slides abandoned, they happily chase each other up and down the jungle gym steps—then to Nishida, whose face has gone carefully blank.

“Haji—” You begin, then stop. You don’t know what to say.

A rogue piece of hair has come loose from its usual slicked back style. Normally, you’d brush it aside, laughing as he uses your proximity as an excuse to kiss you senseless. He’s not feeling play now.

In mirror to your own greeting earlier, Hajime sticks out his left hand to Nishida. Sunlight glints off the golden wedding band adorning your husband’s ring finger, and you know he was planning this the moment he began stalking over here.

“Great day to be at the park, isn’t it? Umemiya Hajime. My wife’s such a great conversation partner, isn’t she?”

Nishida stares at Hajime for a heartbeat, then slowly accepts the offered hand. From your place tucked against his side, you can feel the tense line of his muscles, a snake coiled to strike if provoked. You don’t have anything against Nishida, and his nephew plays quite nicely with both Yuzuru and Shiori. You want to be annoyed, even a little angry, but you know Hajime. He wouldn’t act like this unless he had good reason.

“Y-yeah, she is,” Nishida replies, quickly retracting his hand. Nervousness has replaced his earlier ease, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart over to the children, who have commandeered the swing sets. Yuzuru must have helped Shiori onto one; now he’s twisting her round and round while she kicks her legs in delight. One of her pigtails has started to come loose. Nishida’s nephew propels himself on the other swing.

A throat clears. Nishida’s, you realize, as he casually slips his phone out of his pocket. “I should be getting back. Thanks for chatting with me,” he says to you, phone still in hand. Another look at Hajime. “…I’ll see you around.”

“Have a great day!” Hajime calls as Nishida scurries away. His nephew pouts. Your children halt their own game, offering loud farewells of their own. There’s a moment where you think someone will start throwing a tantrum—Nishida’s nephew, mainly—but the man quickly scoops his young charge into his arms and carries him off.

Hajime releases you with a sigh once Nishida’s retreating figure disappears, all that coiled tension dissipating in a puff of air. He smiles at you like nothing happened. “What were you thinking about for lunch?”

You stare at him in disbelief. Is he not going to say anything? It takes a moment for your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth, and when it does, you can’t stop the hiss that escapes. “Hajime, you didn’t have to scare him off like that!”

He tilts his head, gesture almost boyish. You know better. “He said he had to leave.”

“Because of you!”

“Baby—”

“Mama! Mama! Pus’ me, p’ease?” Shiori shouts. You sigh, glaring at Hajime to let him know this conversation isn’t over. Plastering a smile on your face, you happily trot over to the swing sets. Yuzuru has claimed the one left empty by Nishida’s nephew, leaving his baby sister to wiggle pitifully in her seat. A bright, floral patterned bandage sticks to her right knee.

“How’s my brave little girl?” You coo, planting a kiss atop her head. She giggles, sticking her leg up while you set about fixing her loose pigtail.

“Dada fixeded me!”

“He’s quite talented at patching up owies, isn’t he?” Against your better judgement, your hands still, chin tilting up to find Hajime standing alone where you left him, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He’s watching you and the kids with undiluted joy.

You’re still upset with him, but the look on his face tempers some of your annoyance.

“Mhm!”

“I’m glad, my love.” Pigtail fixed, you gently take her tiny hands in yours, placing them around the metal chains holding up the swing. “Ready? One, two, three!” On three, you give her a light push, sending her soaring into the air.

Twenty minutes later, everyone’s safely buckled in their car seats, hands thoroughly cleaned courtesy of your stash of baby wipes in the glove box. Hajime passes around a water bottle from the driver’s seat, while you stand at the back passenger door, shaking woodchips out of Shiroi’s shoes.

“Mama, can we listen to Bluey?” Yuzuru asks, idly running a toy motorcycle up and down the car window.

“In a minute, baby,” you reply. Shoes free of debris, you shimmy them back onto Shiori’s little feet. She’s clutching the metal water bottle in both her hands.

“T’anks, mama.”

“You’re welcome,” and it’s accompanied with a loud smooch to her forehead. You take the water from her, stealing a quick sip. She giggles, waving as you close the passenger door. You clamber into your own seat with a relieved sigh. Park days are fun yet exhausting.

Yuzuru, never one to forget anything, pouts. “Mama, can we listen to Bluey now?”

The car engine roars to life. You fiddle with your phone, queuing up the latest Bluey album while telling Shiori yes, you did see how fast she went down the slide, and you know she’s hungry, reassuring her that lunch will be made as soon as you get through the door at home. She kicks her legs out again, pretending she’s still on the swings. Your hand snakes between the car door and the seat, questing fingers latching playfully around one small ankle. “Got you!”

She squeals, delighted, kicking harder now. “Shake her off,” Yuzuru encourages, and now you laugh, releasing your hold.

“You’re too strong for me, my love,” you say, shaking out your hand.

“’Cause I eats my gebtables,” she replies seriously.

Haji laughs, grinning at you as he backs the van out of the parking spot. It soothes the remainder of your irritation—that smile of his always makes you melt. “That’s right, baby,” he agrees.

Shiori asks for more water. You oblige, passing the bottle back. Yuzuru starts humming along to Bluey. Hajime rolls slowly to a stop at the intersection. It’s all so normal, so perfect. Almost enough for you to forget about Haji’s odd behavior.

Yuzuru may have inherited most of his father’s looks, but he got his knack for persistency from you. Gently, you prod Hajime’s arm. “What was all of that about, earlier?”

He sighs. Flicks his eyes up to the rearview mirror, looking at your children in the reflection. They aren’t visibly paying attention, although your son listens to far more than he lets on. Scary, how often he asks about things you were positive he wasn’t within hearing distance for.

Hajime’s hand flexes around the steering wheel, like he’s fighting off the urge to rub the back of his neck. You squeeze his shoulder this time. He’s the most responsible driver you know—and it makes your heart ache whenever you think of why.

“I was a little jealous,” he admits, softly.

“A little?”

“…a lot,” he concedes, flicking on the turn signal. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Something about his manner set me off.”

You frown in thought, playing back your interaction with Nishida in your head. Nothing struck a warning bell inside your own head. Other than the strange look he gave you when you said how much you loved being a parent. Overall, you’d considered Nishida nice enough. Not someone you’d want to become best friends with, but a decent enough park companion.

“I thought he was gentlemanly enough,” you say carefully, trying to see the interaction through your husband’s eyes. Maybe Nishida ended up a bit too far into your personal space, towards the end of your conversation. Half of your attention had been on Yuzuru by that point; the other half was worried about Shiori’s wounded knee.

“It’s how he kept watching you when you weren’t looking. Like he was sizing you up.”

You didn’t feel anything untoward coming from Nishida. Then again, Haji’s always had a gift for reading people and their intentions. You lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m yours, always and forever.”

Those impossibly blue eyes of his land on yours. “I love you.”

Yuzuru, no longer occupied with Bluey or his motorcycle, blows a raspberry. “Gross!”

[8myass]

.. caretaker .. pairing. mark lee x female reader genre. fluff pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) (‘y/n’ usage) synopsis. mark just wants to take care of you like you take care of him. wc. 0.9k cw. best friend!mark tw. teeth-rottenly cute, pet name (‘babe’), cuddling, socially awkward mark, mentions kissing a/n. soft mark y'all omg

Mark was the sweetest, most sincere person you’ve ever met. He had a heart of gold and always put you above others, even when the two of you were just simple acquaintances. You quickly became best friends, though. Friends turning to some sort of situationship, neither of you really knew what your relationship was turning into at that point, but you both loved every moment of it and savored each other's company. 

However, the poor boy always managed to get himself in hot water when it came to your shared conversations. He would say things that came out the wrong way, not at all how he meant it, but because he lacks knowledge of social cues, he doesn’t understand what he said wrong. You were a teacher for him and his awkwardness in relationships, whether that be romantic or platonic. 

He loved you for that, for helping him become a better version of himself, a version of himself that he loved as well. If it were anyone else, you would’ve left him by now, left him in the dark to handle his problems alone, wondering what he did wrong to leave you hating him. But you didn’t, you’re still by his side taking care of him, helping him, keeping him on his two unstable feet. You were his lifeline, really. If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have been able to comprehend why he’d been in so much shit with his past relationships before over simple things he’s said.

He still messes up sometimes, saying things that make you question the true meaning and whether or not he was being rude or just ignorant, but you always correct your mindset and tell yourself that’s just Mark. And it is, but you love him. You love his silly, stupid self. You’ve loved him for quite some time now and he loves you even more than you could ever love him in return. He just sucks at proving that to you. You were too intimidating when it came to romance, he never knew how to approach the situation. He was predictable to you, so he would always try to be unpredictable, but that always failed because it was so predictable of him, you expected it.

But one day, you came down with a cold. You were supposed to meet him later on that day, but you were too ill to get out of bed that morning, let alone make it to your car to drive a few miles out of your way to stuff down food that you undoubtedly would throw up the moment you got home. You decided to call him and cancel your plans, explaining the scenario to him. You were apologetic, which led to him becoming sympathetic. 

By the time you had hung up the phone, he was already knocking on your front door, letting himself in and running you a warm bath, heating up some soup, and pouring you some cold medicine to force it down your throat when you refused to take it yourself. You were so happy to have him here helping you that you didn’t even fight him when he helped you change into a comfy pair of pajamas and laid you down in bed, covering you up with layers of blankets to make sure your shivering was contained enough for you to actually get some sleep.

“Thank you, Mark,” you whimper, throat too sore to speak to your fullest extent of happiness. You wanted to jump up out of bed and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and kissing his pretty lips, just as you always did when you were too excited to contain yourself. You hated how weak you felt, you were making your sickness seem so dramatic, you being nothing but an inconvenience for Mark right now, you’re sure he has some other, more important, things he could be doing instead of taking care of a twenty-year-old who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “You really don’t have to stay, you’ve done enough for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? To let you know if I feel better.”

“I’m not leaving you, Y/n,” he frowned, leaning down to press his soft palm against your forehead, moving your bangs off your skin, gentle eyes meeting your shaky ones, “I will never leave you, don’t worry about that. I’m here for you no matter what. That’s what friends are for.” Friends. That was a hard sentence for Mark to get out. Friends… that’s not what you were, that’s not what either of you wanted to be.

“You’re so sweet, I don’t deserve you,” you pouted, wiggling around under your blankets to make room next to you for Mark to lay down, “Lay with me then. Hold me.”

“Gladly,” he slipped under the blankets alongside you, wrapping his arms loosely around you to pull you against his body, head pressed firmly into his chest. “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick.”

“Why’s that?” you chuckled, knowing he didn’t quite mean it the way that came out. He was still working on his word placements, you understood that.

“Because then you let me take care of you,” he laughed in turn, brushing his fingers through your hair as a comforting hand trailed along your spine. You hummed in response, not making another sound as you slowly drifted off to sleep. “Now get some rest, babe. Feel better in the morning.”

[sugarcryztal]

Hihi! Im Hie and i would like to request a nsfw romantic honkai star rail matchup, I go by she/her pronouns and I’m straight, I’m a busy person with my studies

I’m usually the leader of group projects and people trust me with higher positions in clubs! Unfortunately that also means that I often have a lot of pent up stress and I get pissed easily some days…I like cosplaying, socialising, making new friends and having a busy schedule(I don’t like being bored) I dislike people who are rude and people who I can’t read easily..? I like teasing people and they describe me as sarcastic and a fun person to be around.

That’s all thank you sm!!! Have a nice day <333

LMAOOO I’M SORRY I GIGGLED A LITTLE BUT HERE YOU GO! SORRY FOR THE WAIT ^^’

warning for nsfw, reader discretion is advised

Your HSR match will be. . .

VERITAS RATIO !

wow he’s so sexy hahahahhahahaha i mean what

SFW

⟡ Basically I just thought “what do nerds like” and I SAY NERDS LIKE DR. VERITAS RATIO!

⟡ Seriously though I just think you guys would mix well because of you both having an academic or work related background.

⟡ When he was first crushing on you he hated you.

⟡ As a joke, mostly… But he was so frustrated with himself! How could be such a fool in love!

⟡ I actually fully believe he avoided you when he first started crushing on you, but only for a little bit because he quickly got tired of beating around the bush.

⟡ Also because you were the leader for one of the projects you both had just been working on together in a group…

⟡ He never lets his feelings get in the way of work though, nuh uh uh!

⟡ Once you’re both done with the project, he confesses.

⟡ During his confession he’s wearing his stupid statue head so you won’t see how embarrassed he is. And thank fully you reciprocated!

⟡ So now you’re both dating… Now what?

⟡ Bro has NO relationship experience ☠️

⟡ I mean seriously, you’re probably one of first very few people he acknowledged to be good enough to be his partner.

⟡ He gets the hang of it eventually, but don’t expect him to use any pet names because he refuses to.

⟡ Unfortunately… Your boyfriend tends to be mean on accident. He doesn’t understand how harsh his tone can be sometimes, so he might need to be taught a little bit.

⟡ He definitely has a soft spot for you though. And I mean a VERY soft spot.

⟡ After a hard day of work, he’ll do anything you want to do. Especially if you had to deal with any of the idiots.

⟡ Take a bath together? Absolutely. Want a massage? The bed is ready for you to lay on! Need some time alone? Hmmm… Okay. He’ll respect that.

⟡ His love language is acts of service if I haven’t made that obvious btw

⟡ Will also let you touch his hair, just please try not to ruin it. He works very hard to maintain it which is why it’s super fluffy.

⟡ He doesn’t like meeting new people much, but he tries to be at least acquainted with your friends. H

⟡ He will drive you to hangouts though! If you do like hanging out with your friends a lot.

⟡ Always reminds you to clear some days on your schedule so you can take some time to relax, although he shouldn’t be talking because he also works a lot.

⟡ Tries to match his schedule with yours so he can spend more time with you! Will never admit it though and just calls it a “coincidence.”

⟡ If you try to tease him about it his face will turn pink and a small “Tch.” will leave his mouth.

⟡ When you have your days where you’re just angry at everything, he’ll offer you quiet company. He’ll hold you close in bed and let you rest against him until you fall asleep or take a nap.

⟡ Will also give you your space too. Don’t expect him to sleep on the couch though. He’ll just sleep on the bed with his faced to you.

It had been another exhausting day of work, you huffed softly as you set your things down near the entry way and shuffled your way to the living room where you saw your boyfriend, Veritas, sitting on the couch reading a book.

He looked out of the corner of his eye when you sat down next to him and began to scroll on your phone. You looked so exhausted. “That kind of day, huh?” Veritas said, his voice slightly softer than usual.

You nodded and said, “It was just exhausting.” Veritas hummed in response. He set his book down on the small coffee table before gently picking you up and sitting you on his lap.

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” He mumbled to you. He gently guided your head to rest against his broad shoulder. “I’m always here to carry the weight with you, no matter how small you think it is.”

You guys just sat there. In the silence and comfort of one another. He kissed your forehead softly as you drifted off into sleep.

NSFW

⟡ Soooo… About that stress? 👀👀

⟡ Now he would never do anything without your consent, duh.

⟡ But… He suggests that if you’re both pent up he can maybe… Finger the stress away?

⟡ You’re also sitting in his lap. No matter what. He just loves how big he is against you! How you’re so cute and defenseless against him!

⟡ I know I said he doesn’t like using pet names, but that doesn’t apply to bed activities.

⟡ Specifically likes calling you good girl, pretty girl, cockslut, and whore (in a non condescending way)

⟡ Loves restraining and blindfolding you if you like that, that way only he can see how pathetic you are with him.

⟡ Also prefers topping, he never wants to be bottom. He just loves worshipping your body and making you both feel good!

Veritas currently had you writhing and panting in his lap. He chuckled at your weak and sweaty state. “Tired already? Come on… You’re still so wet you pretty whore.”

You whined in response, but that didn’t stop his fingers! Pumping and scissoring you with his two big fingers! He kissed your neck as his other hand rubbed your thigh, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.”

He watched as your body convulsed and you struggled against your restraints as another orgasm washed over you. He darkly chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Such a dirty whore.” It was going to be a long night because he had a lot more stress to get out.

08.24.24

[dangopango00]

After Last Night

Waking up with him after a hookup

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 |

FAT/LBC men x gn reader (William Included for all my Aris out there)

CW: very suggestive, maybe dubcon?? (Mentioned that Lars and reader were both drunk in his)

A/N: waking up with cael is waking up behind bars thats croomf, groomf even 😭😭😭 im jp u dk him since ur childhood here ok this is a safe space

Edit: Alkaid rewrite 🥶🥶

more utc

LARS / LUO XIA (罗夏)

- SCENARIO: You’re in a similar or complementary industry to him and he’s had his eye on you a bit, admiring how you present yourself but you never really became too closely acquainted. One crazy night of drinking during a negotiations meeting later and two lonely busy old people get busy (30 isnt old sorry. Uncalled for)

- You wake up first; he is KNOCKED OUT

- He wakes up with the wildest bedhead normally and even moreso today. He’s drooling and sprawled out across the couch with a loose hold on your body (Just his arm slung around you as he sleeps)

- His grip on you tightens if you try to leave the couch but if you’re insistent he’ll just let you go; whine grumbles about it in his sleep

- He has work and he’s very busy so he’ll have to leave soon but he wants to make it up to you because he wasn’t being professional; he makes the effort to at least chat or have breakfast with you before leaving which you don’t mind since you’re busy as well

- He usually doesn’t do hookups since he’s busy, doesn’t want to lead anyone on and knows he’ll get attached too easily so he rlly dk what happened, he was lonely but ayayay this is a mess. He does his absolute best to make things less awkward for you

- This scenario would actually be so wild bc if you wanted to do it again while sober I don’t think he’d say no LOL as soon as you had breakfast/chatted he started to like you even more I think and remembers last night being really great so

- I don’t think he’d initiate it if you did do it again though because he feels really bad about being unprofessional but ever since that night if he ever sees you his eyes are glued to you, your body and all its curves and/or edges; he’s so distracted help him 😭😭

- It’s even worse if he’s pent up, he actually will just. Avoid you if you don’t assure him it’s alright he doesn’t want to be weird and he knows he wont be able to focus so he gets a little nervous around you from then on

ALKAID / LU CHEN (路辰）

- SCENARIO: You’re his classmate and more importantly, his film dealer. You’ve been selling him film and camera repairs for a pretty good price compared to how high the quality is from a small shop that doesn’t get too much traction because it’s more of an antique shop but you do offer more. He was usually standardly polite and short maybe with an extra question out of curiosity here and there before becoming a regular over time. You eventually started tacking on a few more comments and questions than necessary but not so many that it’s noticeable, chatting him up a bit im class as well until you started actively seeking him out, being curious about him and you two became friends. Since this is an edit I’m gonna say like Ayn, you’re probably already in a situationship by the time you hook up but unlike Ayn you haven’t kissed yet (he’d at least ask you out or vice versa before kissing i think) You were over at his apartment to study and help bathe Sparkle; just generally hang out and after a PAINFUL amount of tension building with playful comments and little touches so much so that you ended up kissing him and one thing lead to another !!

- You wake up first but likely go back to sleep and he wakes up during that time tbh. I feel like his home is cozy as hell not to mention Sparkle climbing up and cuddling with you

- He let you wear his clothes to bed since yours got messy and he noticed that you were shivering, freezing from wearing. Well. Nothing. So he let you borrow something and his entire face is red including his ears an neck, it’s quite a view— both you and him

- He ghosts his thumb over your features, his gentle touch almost unnoticeable as he notes each unique thing about you as if trying to identify different stars in the sky

- You had already cuddled up to him in your sleep and he lays in bed with you in his loose embrace for an absurd amount of time until he decides his heart has had enough and gets up to make you both breakfast, you stirring a bit in your sleep in the process

- He kept trying to find an opportunity to get up before but you clung to him so he couldn’t find it in himself to leave you gn but when he did eventually get up he just kissed the crown of your head and gently pulled your arms off of him, then laying you down

- His bed head is just his normal hair honestly and he doesn’t move too much, just snores a little bit and slightly drools

- He’s embarrassed the rest of the day, his usual charismatic persona failing on him when he needs it most and he’s a bit nervous not knowing if you’d felt the same as him or if it was just lust. Though all that is quickly nipped in the bud when you give him a kiss on the cheek and confess properly, holding his hands in yours

- Deciding he’s wasted enough time being a dork He offers to take you on your first date in a nearby cafe since it was pretty impromptu but he still says it with a helpless smile and slight blush. On this date he def took pictures and has them pinned on his wall; they’ll quickly become some of his most prized photos

CLARENCE / SI LAN (司岚）

- SCENARIO: You two went to the same high school all four years and maybe even the same middle school at some point but you never really interacted because he was busy with schoolwork and so were you so you really never felt the need to bother him. Little did you know Clarence had the biggest crush on you since you met and after being acquainted through the student council you became friends. Upon growing closer and some worrying about how little he relaxes later and you mayyy have accidentally made out with him a little in the council room after hours 🥺 then took it back to your apartment 🥺🥺 and ended up sleeping together 🥺🥺🥺

- He wakes up first and just stares at the ceiling. how did this happen oh my god. Not in a bad way but oh my GOD. -Clarence

- He’s so embarrassed by last night especially with his own behavior. Just remembering the sounds he made and the words he said has him reeling; he must’ve told you he loved you 100,000 times

- he just stays completely still hoping you’re still asleep and once you wake up he shuts his eyes so fast kind of trying to pretend to be asleep but with how tightly his eyes and lips are shut you know he’s awake

- You give him a little kiss on his eyelids and lips and he knows he’s caught; he blushes but then kind of just lets a small exasperated smile wash over his face; he really doesn’t know what to do

- His bedhead is basically the same as his normal but more messy around the bangs also he snores a tiny bit but thats pretty much it

- He’s pretty happy and normal when he isn’t thinking about the specifics of last night’s events

- He even goes ahead and makes breakfast for you and him as well as his cats (they’re probably the ones who woke yall up lol)

- He doesn’t do hook ups and he’s liked you so long so he reaalllly realllllllllyyyyy hopes you’ll consider getting to know him more and let him take you out on a couple dates because even if his hands are clammy the whole time he’d be so happy

WILLIAM / CHEN ZIHAN (陈子涵）

- SCENARIO: You two have always been best friends with no question of whether or not your feelings were platonic. Well he had no question. You on the other hand had been crushing on him for a while now but didn’t want to ruin the friendship. That was until college. He started noticing you more and your qualities: how you’ve matured and how you’re there when no one else is, so his feelings have gotten a little bit more than just platonic. He justified it as appreciation and normal friend things all the way up until you two suddenly decided to “test out” what kissing and making out would be like. Platonically of course. Since neither of you had ever been in a serious relationship. The sex part was just testing too, trust 🙏

- You wake up first but that doesn’t stop him from having an existential crisis when he wakes up

- You’re excited although a bit nervous from anticipation honestly since you already knew your feelings were not platonic but you didn’t know what he’d think so instead of worrying you just poke his face and admire him sleeping

- His bedhead is crazy, some of his hair sticks up and he has a pool of drool under him. He snores too— finally getting to release his feelings has him K.Od it was tew good

- You go to make breakfast or shower or something and he’d probably wake up during that time bc he doesn’t feel your warmth anymore

- Like Clarence, Liam wakes up perplexed and embarrassed and he’s worried he may have crossed a line doing what he did last night since you were supposed to be just friends! He’s freaking out so bad! come back he needs reassurance 😭

- When you get back he’s so apologetic and is just so nervous around you until you broach the subject, reassuring him that you don’t mind what happened

- After you sort out your thoughts on what happened and have a loooong talk about it you’re pretty much back to being normal and you even hang out for a bit longer, watching some movies and baking together although he does still blush and fumble his words around you a little

- He’s scared to tell you he would rather be yours than be your fwb (friend with benefits) bc this is his first hookup but considering he’s been your best friend and crush for so long you feel the same way so you end up dating pretty soon after

[guster-animations]

Kamen Rider Gavv Episode 23 Production Blog

oh right this show aired an episode too

TOKU TRANSLATION MASTERPOST HERE

Looking at the Next Episode

Hanto’s old friend seems like an acquaintance from when he was a mischievous kid. The friend and the manager of the yakiniku restaurant both seem a little bit suspicious. Pink Machiura, playing the manager, had an incredible impact even in a scene where he says nothing… He will be active in the next episode as well. Please look forward to it! And now it’s time for Suga’s present, the bitter chocolate. This is a bit disturbing too… a Valen that looks corroded, as already shown in the poster visual. I wonder if Hanto will be okay.

Shoma will also obtain a new power. Ice cream! Each snack has its own feelings. Please look forward to this new form’s direction.

Rakia has met Dente, but that story might not be finished… The three Riders all have different ways of living and thinking. There are many scenes where they’re doing things alone. (Though we asked a new director to do episode 21, which Tasaki would then direct, I thought there would be too many scattered scenes.) There are times when they impact each other, sympathize, and occasionally fight against a common enemy… When Hanto learned Shoma’s true identity at the end of episode 20, we wrote that “it’s the end and the beginning,” but the big swells have only begun… or something. The mystery of Bitter Gavv will continue. Please enjoy “Gavv’s” story going forward.

(Written by Naomi Takebe)

The Episode in Short

Thank you for watching episode 23!

The episode began with a devastating confession. There are still more developments to come that you won’t be able to take your eyes off, so don’t miss an episode.

Director Morota occasionally mixes in demonstrations while instructing actors on how to take on a scene. He gave many words of wisdom to the cast members as he watched over them.

It looks like they’re photosynthesizing (?) together in the warmth.

Then it’ll all melt out… 🍦

Shoma’s Lost Memory

He had met Hanto’s mother… What comes out of Shoma’s mouth is a death beyond imagination. It seems like Shoma’s mind unconsciously suppressed his memories of that moment as a defense mechanism due to the strength of its shock.

With the method of keeping stock they used before Human Presses were invented, there would occasionally be errors… As a result, Hanto’s mother briefly came into contact with a young Shoma.

Hanto’s mother is kind, and Shoma would never think to tell a lie. :(

The shocking pool plunge scene (Strangely enough, Director Morota is doing this again…)

We borrowed a bathtub that’s used for so-called hot water baths in variety shows to film the scene.

I think it’s scary to be pushed in and to open your eyes underwater, but Miwako Wagatsuma, who played Hanto’s mother Sae, said “I’ve done swimming before, I’ll be fine!” (Huh, is it really like that?!). She faced it with total confidence, and brought this immensely impactful splashdown scene to life with a fair amount of energy.

Do—don’t worry, you’ll forget about this…

Lango has been surprised many times lately by the information his younger siblings give him, but he plays a considerably bitter role in this flashback. Sae’s failed escape attempt might have been one incident that made them speed up development of the Human Presses, Mimic Devisers, and other technology.

(The director feels like a coach giving advice during a time-out, he’s amazing)

A rift has once again formed in Shoma and Hanto’s relationship, which was briefly thought to have calmed down, in this episode. Will they ever completely break the ice without incident (I guess that’s another ice cream reference!)?

Hanty Under Siege!!

Maybe because the episode is being broadcast right after Valentine’s Day (?), Hanto is very popular [octopus pun here] 🐙, beginning with the gift from Suga.

Yoshiki Urayama plays Kataro Kobushidani [unsure of last name reading] (like, a pun on “kobushi de katarou”/“let’s talk it out with our fists”?!), an old friend of Hanto’s who’s meeting him for the first time in a while.

He expressed Kataro’s vague feeling through his peculiar way of talking and facial expressions. I understand Hanto wanting to treat him to a good meal since he’s been fired, haha.

Hino loves the rice 🌾

Pink Machiura plays the manager of the yakiniku restaurant!

The meat he made looks too good…! Even though he works at a yakiniku restaurant, he has an octopus on his shirt? This secret will be explained in the next episode!

The shot of the manager peeking into the kitchen while listening in on Hanto and Kataro’s conversation was supeeeerbly scary. He’s investigating into Hanto, too, but… he’s too suspicious (Laugh).

And then! Don’t forget… This poor person was flipped upside down with superhuman strength after Dark Shoma interrupted him while driving!

He’s actually played by Valen’s suit actor, Kotaro Kaji. He was attacked in front of the cafe where Hanto was just minding his own business and working (Laugh).

It was a large-scale shoot, with the car suspended on a crane.

With see-through bathtub and an upside down car, this set of episodes has many unique situations. Oh, speaking of, it seems like there will be more of those next week 🫢

Hanto! Something bad’s happening to your partner behind you…

He chose to prioritize Kataro (Sorry, Mr. Kaji!)

Dente’s Side of the Story

Dente shares the history of the Stomach Company. It was a sweets company that he and Ząb (Shoma’s grandfather, Dente’s brother) started up together.

Bin Shimada channeled Ząb‘s charisma and talent as a merchant into his voice.

His suit actor is Yuya Nawata, the same one as Gavv.

Truthfully, Nawata suit acted Shoma’s father, Bouche, too! They’re all present up to the grandfather, so we can calmly release that information. The eldest sons share a lot of genes. (Laugh)

Although Dente only wanted to pursue and develop delicious sweets, it’s true that those sweets have ended up derailing the lives of many Granutes.

It’s a complex encounter for Rakia. I wonder how he’ll confront the main culprit of the “Dark Snacks”.

Here’s a sleepytime pose with the two of them.

Seems like Shoma got better quickly!

Dente raised the idea of “Maybe you have a brother you didn’t know about?”, but then Dark Shoma, who was supposed to have been defeated, appears once again. His personality is somewhat different from the previously defeated individual.

Shoma and Rakia do their first duo transformation together, but Shoma and Rakia fail to cooperate, with Shoma wanting to protect humans first and foremost and Rakia wanting to get information on Bitter Gavv and strike at its source.

…and, although this course of events was written in the script, the creativity of Action Director Fujita and all of the crew members, who built up the action of the actual scene which gradually moves along, is truly amazing…!

Bitter Gavv absorbs the Gochizos’ power one by one, and gives no leeway with his dreadful attack. The feeling of innocently absorbing them creates an unthinkable scariness.

He revealed the unsettling information that “there are lots of me”, so will the disturbances caused by these lookalikes ever cease…? Pay attention to this area.

Well, there are many things that won’t be settled yet…! The worries haven’t ended, but I’ll finish this off with a really cheerful Rakia, and a really photogenic Director Morota (I suspect he forgot to put this out in the last episodes he directed)

I’ll see you next week~ 🍨

(Written by Minami Takashima)

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: Danger Mouse

Group: B

Prompts: Historical AU - Regency. Monster-hunter. Flood.

-

Stiltskin Abbey

Everybody who ever met Miss Belle French could be relied upon to provide the same two observations of her person. That she was as beautiful as her name suggested, and that she enjoyed reading above all else. 

Her parents, fearful that a lifetime of novel reading would lead to a lifetime of spinsterhood, resolved to broaden her horizons by sending her to stay with family in Bath once she was of an age. Whether they realised that her ready agreement stemmed from a secret desire to meet a handsome stranger in the Pump Room and fall in love as if in one of her beloved novels scarcely mattered so long as the desired result was achieved.

A few weeks into her stay, however, Belle was forced to consider the possibility that such a match may not present itself. There was but one gentleman who had engendered any form of affection in her and that affection being more akin to one which she felt for a close friend than for a future husband meant that courting would have been entirely out of the question, even had his eye not been firmly set upon their mutual acquaintance, Miss Emma Swan.

Though Captain Baethan Gold endeavoured to be amiable and polite to all in his company, it did not escape Belle's notice that he danced rather more often with Emma than with any other young lady and that, despite his efforts to engage Belle in equal conversation, he would often devote significantly more time to her friend.  

Belle felt no insult at this but rather admired the Captain's attempts at equitability. And when he was obliged to return to his family home due to unexpected flooding in his lodgings, she was flattered to be included in the invitation that he extended to Emma and herself to join him there.  

“Oh, please say you will,” Emma entreated, “my parents would never allow me to take such a trip alone but I'm certain they will permit it if you accompany me.”

And so it was that Belle found herself in a carriage with Emma and Captain Gold, having quitted Bath for his estate in Hampshire.  

“Is your home very large?” Emma enquired once a few miles had passed.

“Large enough,” Captain Gold demurred, “Stiltskin Abbey is quite substantial.”

“Stiltskin Abbey!” Belle clutched the book she had been reading tighter in excitement. “Like Northanger Abbey?”

Captain Gold frowned. “My apologies Miss French, but I'm unfamiliar with such a place. Is it very far?”

“Oh, no.” Belle shook her head, embarrassed by her outburst. “It's not... I mean. Never mind.”

Conversation between Captain Gold and Emma resumed, but Belle was unable to focus on any of the words, her mind miles away in what she imagined Stiltskin Abbey to be. She tempered her excitement with the reminder of the heroine's disappointment at the Abbey in her book and entreated herself to feel satisfied with whatever dwelling revealed itself at the end of their journey.

As they arrived, however, her breath caught as the magnificent gothic building came into view. Her heart leapt at the sight of stone walls as if pulled straight from the pages of her beloved novel and Belle could not contain her excitement as the carriage arrived and they descended.

Such was the vastness and splendour of the Abbey that Belle found her head turning in every direction, her eyes taking in the ancient oaks and tall windows with unabashed delight.

A sharp elbow to her side, courtesy of Emma, drew her attention away from the structure and towards the two men in the entryway. Captain Gold had walked ahead and was now in conversation with an older man who was watching them approach. He appeared to be eyeing her particularly and Belle was drawn in by his features, his dark eyes seemed to hold unfathomable secrets and his slightly greying hair lent him a distinguished look reflected in his refined clothing and ebony cane.

“Miss Swan, Miss French,” Captain Gold nodded his head at them. “May I introduce my father, Mr. Gold.”

“Ladies,” Mr. Gold intoned as he bowed slightly, his sharp eyes never wavering. Belle bobbed an automatic curtsey, feeling Emma do the same next to her, as she tried to decipher what that look could mean.

They did not have long to settle in before dinner was served and although the meal was a perfectly polite affair, Belle was certain she could feel Mr. Gold's gaze on her person multiple times throughout the evening.  

The next morning Captain Gold invited both ladies to join him on a tour of the grounds, but it was exceptionally plain to Belle that her inclusion was merely a courtesy and he and Emma would much rather spend the time in each other's company without a third. Belle felt no sadness in politely declining, as the prospect of exploring the dark corridors and winding staircases of the sprawling gothic mansion held significantly more appeal.

Said exploration was abruptly curtailed, however, as she emerged into the most fantastic room she had ever seen in her life. Seemingly endless shelves of books covered the walls from marble floor to arched ceiling and Belle felt overwhelmed at the sight.  Crossing the floor she eagerly began reading the spines closest to her, blissfully oblivious to any presence in the room until a pointedly cleared throat caused her to jump in surprise and turn towards the sound.

“Forgive me, Miss French.” Mr. Gold stood from the chair he had been sitting in. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Mr. Gold!” Belle flushed at having been caught, “My apologies. I didn't realise anyone was here.”

“Evidently.” Mr. Gold’s smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “I must say I am surprised you are here. I would have thought you'd be with Baethan.”

“He and Emma are walking the grounds. I didn't think my presence would be necessary.”

“That must come as a disappointment to you.”  

“Sir?” Belle frowned in puzzlement.

Mr Gold's smile widened in a predatory fashion. “Your delight in the size of my house has not gone unnoticed. It must pain you to realise that my son favours another.”

Belle pursed her lips as the meaning of his words and the insult they contained struck her. “You misunderstand, sir. I do delight in your house, it is true, but I have always been aware of where Captain Gold's affections lie and I have neither the capacity nor the desire to alter them.”

“Even now that you are witness to the true vastness of his wealth?” Mr. Gold's eyes seemed to bore into her very soul but she refused to allow him the satisfaction of looking away.

“I am witness to the vastness of his house,” Belle replied, “I cannot speak as to his wealth.” Her heart beat faster at the words.  Implying that the Golds lived beyond their means was unspeakably rude, but she felt it a fair response to the insult he had given her.

Mr. Gold’s lips twitched. “Have no fear on that account, Miss French.  My son is well provided for.  His happiness has always been my highest priority.”  

The pointed words pierced the cloak of indignation that Belle had drawn around herself, as the reason for his uncharitable disposition became clear.  He was a father protecting his son from one he felt would use him ill.  How covetous she must have appeared in his eyes upon her arrival, caring only for the grand splendour of the house!  Armed with this new understanding she felt compelled to honesty.  

“I am glad to hear it, sir, although I do believe that he and Emma share such an affection that they could find happiness even in a pauper’s cottage.”  Here she paused, hoping that Mr. Gold would comprehend the approbation present in her words, before attempting to offer an explanation for her own actions.  “As for myself, I fear I must apologise for my lack of decorum yesterday afternoon.  When I arrived I felt that I had stepped into the very pages of Northanger Abbey and could not help but be captivated by what I beheld as the embodiment of every hope and expectation contained therein.”  

Belle flushed, her words sounding foolish even to her own ears, as Mr. Gold’s expression morphed into something resembling amusement.  

“Oh, I see.”  His lips quirked. “You are not so much a fortune-hunter as a monster-hunter.  Well look no further, as I daresay you shall find me every shade as beastly as General Tilney.”

“You have read the novel”  Belle exclaimed, all mortification forgotten in the excitement of a kindred spirit. “But you do yourself a disservice in your comparison, sir.  Indeed I find you entirely unlike the General.”

“I thank you for the compliment, Miss French.”  Mr. Gold’s smile was genuine this time as he gestured to the nearby chair.  “Perhaps you would care to join me?  We could discuss the works of Miss Austen further?”

Belle smiled wider, “I would be delighted.”   

-

[darkwritingsnshit]

Three times that count

Trust (1)

Three times you were there for him, and the one time you couldn't be.

Obviously, I can’t be normal about things, or I would have stopped writing a long time ago.

For over a year BG3 has had me in a chokehold so I finally decided to clear out my notes and post a fic (or part of one that I’m in the progress of finishing).

Disclaimer: I might write more BG3 because there are characters that I… must write. Sorry to everyone who didn’t follow me for this content.

Warnings: This will turn into a dark fic in the last chapter, chapter 4. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, intense angst, kidnapping, noncon, asshole characters

            “If you hadn’t put a knife to my neck upon our first encounter perhaps, I’d be more inclined to warm up to your charms.” Rolling your eyes, you took a drink from one of the bottles you’d swiped from a tavern.

            “And to think, if you hadn’t had that damned tadpole in your head, I would have gutted you.” Astarion smirked across the campfire.

            “You could have tried.” Shadowheart spoke up behind you. Karlach begged her to braid her hair now that she was cool enough to touch. Seeing Shadowheart sitting with Karlach between her legs, so focused on plaiting her hair almost made you laugh.

            “You’re lucky I wasn’t there Astarion!” Karlach chimed in, her hair in wild directions.

            “Ah yes, how kind it was of you not to take my head, darling.” Astarion’s drawl was directed towards the both of them, not serious enough to be bothered. He was met with laughter around the campfire, shrugging it off with another mouthful of wine.

            At first, he bothered you and you didn’t trust him, but you eventually warmed up to the quirky rogue. Scathing though he may be at times, he wasn’t wrong, and your taste for sarcasm made it all the funnier. He was a killer lock pick, fantastic with a bow and blended in with the shadows when he needed to. Astarion was a good traveling companion, and he had saved you from goblins more than a couple times. You smiled at the banter around the fire, before standing with a yawn and reading yourself for bed. It had been a long day, full of blood and bodies; it was time for a long rest.  

You didn’t rest well, flitting between dreams and nightmares. Maybe you break your slumber because something is wrong, or maybe you just got lucky.

“Shit...” You heard his voice before you saw his eyes, glowing a haunting red above your face.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, sitting up and pulling him away from your sleeping companions. “Do you usually watch me sleep so closely?”

“I, um, I-” The charming elf was at a loss for words for the first time since you met him. But in the flickering campfire light and the glowing moon, you saw two fangs glint in the light, his red eyes flash.

“You’re, no, you can’t be.” Confusion fell across your features. Astarion had the fangs, skill and grace of a vampire, but you had been running to and fro across Faerun in the daylight with him for weeks, it didn’t add up.

“A vampire?” His voice dropped several octaves, a cloud shifted over the moon and for the first time since your acquaintance he looked every bit the vampire you were sure he couldn’t be. You glanced back to your sleeping friends, taking a step farther away so you could continue your conversation.

“How could you be a vampire Astarion? We’ve traveled in the day, slept in the night. You’ve walked in the sun, bathed in running streams, what do you mean by this?” You realized you should have felt fear, you should have been afraid of the man baring his fangs in the moonlight, but you weren’t. You saw a complicated rogue with a penchant for pickpocketing and getting into more trouble than it was worth.

“An excellent question, the answers to which I attribute our friendly little tadpole swimming around in my brain. I hadn’t seen the sun for 200 years before we crashed here. Someone, or something, wants me alive. They’ve changed the rules. Standing in the sun, wading through a river, wandering into homes without an invitation, they’re all perfectly mundane activities now.”

“The tadpole did this? Allowed you this freedom?” You questioned, still unsure.

“Seeing as nothing else has changed, I can only make a generous assumption that it is indeed the tadpole’s doing. Beyond that, I have no idea.” Astarion returned to you, if he had a heartbeat, you would have heard it thudding.

“Are you going to tell me why you were so close while I slept?” You knew the answer but wanted to hear him say it.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed… well, blood.” Astarion stepped away, his expression could only be described as embarrassment.

“My blood?” You felt anger tinged with curiosity rise in your chest. “How long since you’ve killed someone? Days? Hours?”

“I’ve never killed anyone, well not for food. I feed on animals, boars, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get.” The elf looked away, still hiding his face from you in the dark. Again, he came close, then met your eyes with a pleading look.

“But it’s not enough, not if I have to fight. I feel… weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer, fight better. Please.” You were shocked to hear the word leave his lips, the confident man you knew in the daylight laid bare his vulnerabilities under the moon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Once more you knew the answer, though you couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“At best I was sure you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs. No. I needed you to trust me. And you can, trust me.” His admission of lies, followed immediately by a favor of trust made you wary.

You watched him in the dim light, the moon silver, the campfire throwing strange shadows across his body. Thinking over the past few weeks, you realized just how many times Astarion had your back, had helped you to camp after a battle. How many times he had the opportunity to end your life, drain you dry before you could notice, and how many times he hadn’t. It didn’t thrill you, but you begrudgingly accepted that you did trust him, that you were lucky to have him as a traveling companion, even if you shouldn’t.

“I do believe you.” The strength of your voice surprised you.

“Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste, I swear." He was almost pleading.

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.” The desperation in his eyes, the look of whatever mix of emotions and vulnerability lowered your defenses. As soon as you said it you wished you hadn’t.

“Really? I- of course. Not one drop more.” He worked hard to keep the shock from his features, but you saw it while he stuttered. “Let’s make ourselves more comfortable, shall we?” With a grand sweeping motion, he gestured towards the bedroll in his tent.

You took a deep breath, pushing your second thoughts away. You trusted him, you had no other choice. Slowly you laid on the bedroll, Astarion knelt beside your head. When he met your eyes there was hesitation, but you pushed it away with a nod.

When his fangs sank into your neck you were hit with an unimaginable cold. You had been on the receiving end of ray of frost before but that was nothing like this. It was as though all your body heat was being pulled out through your neck, tingles whispered behind the sensation, your fingers and toes felt like static as Astarion continued to drink. Stars began to dance around the corners of your eyes before you had a level enough head to push at his shoulders.

“That’s enough.”

“Mmh? Oh, of course.” Astarion pulled back, his eyes blood red and dilated. He stood and wiped his bloody mouth with his hand. “That- that was amazing. My mind is finally clear, I feel strong, I feel… happy?” There was tangible confusion in the air when he said the word happy, as though it was foreign as standing in the sunlight.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you fight.” You held your neck, trying to ground yourself in reality after having so much of your blood removed.

“Shouldn’t take long, so many people need killing.” He sounded so sure of himself. Normally it would annoy you, but you were hit by an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion, so you just didn’t care. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.”

You nodded and found your feet, standing gingerly and making your way back towards the firelight, to your own bedroll.

“This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.” Astarion called out, looking at you from over his shoulder.

“Happy hunting, Astarion.” Was all you could manage before drifting out of consciousness.”

You woke with a pounding headache. You cursed yourself for not drinking water after allowing a vampire to chew on your neck last night, but there was nothing you could do about that now. You reached for some water and drained the bottle before standing up and beginning your day. In the sunlight you saw Astarion, back from wherever he went last night, his color rosier than you had ever seen the pallid elf. You allowed yourself more time to collect your thoughts before getting ready to depart with your group of friends.

“Good morning, how do you feel?” Astarion’s voice had more trepidation than you were used to.

“I’m fine, I just feel a little woozy.” You weren’t going to admit you had a splitting headache, it was nothing a health potion wouldn’t take care of. Astarion seemed relieved.

“It’ll pass. Just be glad I’m not a ‘true’ vampire. A bite from them and you might wake up as a vampire spawn, like my good self. All of a vampire’s hunger but few of their powers.”

“Not a “true” vampire?” You questioned.

“The only thing you’ll begrudge me is a little blood loss, nothing more, nothing less.” Astarion said matter of factly.

“If I can help, just ask. We’re in this together.” This vampire spawn was an annoyance at worst, an ally at best, and somewhere in the middle you thought he could be a friend. A conditional friend, but nonetheless someone you would be willing to help.

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re being sensible about these… revelations. I was worried people might turn up with torches and pitchforks. Although there’s still time.” His focus shifted behind you, where your companions walked up to listen into your conversation.

 “A vampire? Well, that explains the pallor.” Shadowheart mused. “Given our group’s nature I don’t see much harm. We’re each monsters in the making after all.”

 “Oh, and a quick word of warning, Astarion, I taste absolutely awful. Keep your distance.” Gale was always quick with something he thought was smart.

“Shut up Gale. I trust him, he won’t hurt us.” You reassured them, as well as yourself.

“Oh, quite the opposite, I’m here in the spirit of openness and honesty, to work together as a team.” Astarion made it hard to tell if he was being genuine or facetious, you had little time to decide but landed on genuine and move forward this time.

“There now, we’re all friends again. Shall we go? There’s a long day ahead of us.” Astarion insisted, making his way out of camp.

[ariundercovers]

Palladium (Prologue)

Title: Palladium (Prologue)

Co-written with @ezras--moon

Pairing: Pilot!Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,828

Warnings: None for now

Chapter (Prologue) Summary:

After his time in the army, Frankie gets a new job as a med-evac helicopter pilot. Reader, a paramedic who has been working on the chopper for quite some time, is unsure of her new coworker and has some serious doubts about their compatibility. 

Authors’ Notes: Slow burn with lots of smut. Multi-chapter fic in progress. F!Reader, referred to by a nickname in later chapters. No use of y/n. 

This fic is co-written by @ezras--moon and @ariundercovers. Please follow both of us for updates! We will be going back and forth to post each chapter, but catch a masterlist pinned to each of our blogs.

Day 1 - Monday, September 4th

The early morning light bathes the bedroom in an orange glow and the warmth of the sunlight hitting your face tickles you awake before your alarm can. You lay there silently for a long while, letting your brain slowly catch up with your body until it’s no longer comfortable and a groan slips out, slowly rolling over to your side to stretch your limbs. Eyes finally blinking the sleep away as you rise, the alarm goes off right as you sit up and put your feet down on the floor.

 A quick shower wakes you up, and a steaming cup of french press coffee immediately afterward motivates you to get ready for the long day ahead of you. You hastily grab a cream cheese bagel along with another cup of coffee to go as you head out for the base, morning news on the radio barely registering in the back of your mind as you pull into your designated parking space.

 Briskly walking to the locker room, you frown when you find it empty and remember what day it is. 

Phoebe’s gone.

The pilot you’ve been partnered with for years, your closest friend and confidant - you can’t blame her for leaving, as much as you’d like to be angry. Her promotion, which comes with a really nice pay raise, meant a transfer to a new base, away from you. 

“Well, fuck,” you mutter under your breath, frustrated with the change. You steady yourself, take a deep breath and a sip of your second coffee, before you slip into the rest of your gear, bright yellow warning vest last. Heading down the hall to the office, you clock in, hoping to see if you can find Benny or catch a glimpse of the new pilot. As far as you can tell, neither of them are anywhere to be seen - not that you would even know what the new pilot looks like. So, you go check in with your boss, Chief Lewis, who is in his office as usual, mustering up an enthusiastic greeting.

 “Morning.” He greets you with a smile and immediately hands you a stack of paperwork. “I need you to meet your new pilot out back, fill this out over the course of your shift today, and then hand it back in tonight before you leave.” You raise your brows and look at the pages stapled together at the upper left corner. Glancing down at the header, you realize that it’s an evaluation, and he wants you to report back about any issues with communication and cooperation between your team and the new member.

“This is just the initial review, you’ll do a few more later on. One next week and the other in six. Alright?” he folds his hands under his chin and looks up at you expectantly. 

You nod, still reading the questions on the paper in your hand, “Alright.” 

You’re caught off guard when he continues. “And, if there’s nothing urgent coming in soon, you’ll be doing a test flight or two to get the crew acquainted with one another. So, go grab Miller and get started on that first.” The disapproval seems to be evident on your face, as he’s now the one to raise his brows. “Please, don’t scare off the new guy with that frown on his first day, now.” There’s a lighthearted chuckle to his tone, but the words he chooses don’t slip past you, either. 

New guy. 

You’re the only woman left on your little team of three. Chief Lewis ushers you out of his office then, and you let out a frustrated sigh in the hallway as you make your way to the heliport to find Benny.

 When you come to find out neither of them are dressed for work yet and are, instead, engaged in some kind of animated discussion while just standing around next to the helicopter, you’re fuming. This means that, most likely, you’re going to be the one carrying the equipment out and loading it into the chopper while they catch up on getting ready, which they should have done at least ten minutes ago.

 Benny spots you stomping towards them and you catch him nudging the new pilot who’s just out of view behind him from where you’re approaching. The stranger is sporting a gentle smile and waves shyly at you as he sidesteps Benny, emerging from behind your trusted nurse.

 Your breath hitches in your throat just for a split second when you see him fully. His face, his imposing build, the messy mop of dark hair that he quickly hides beneath a baseball cap…

He’s handsome. You can feel your eyes start to widen for a split second before you reel yourself back in. 

The moment passes quickly, however, almost instantaneously replaced once again by the annoyment from before as you set down the two heavy bags of medical supplies you’re carrying. 

“Why aren’t the two of you dressed yet?” you almost bark, Chief Lewis’s request not to scare off the new guy going straight out the window. 

Benny raises his hands in mock surrender and rolls his eyes. “Well, good fucking morning to you too.” The new pilot’s smile drops into a neutral expression and it occurs to you briefly that you’re being rude. 

You sigh and ease up a little bit, but your brows remain furrowed as you step closer. “Morning, Benny.”

 The new, aggravatingly attractive guy introduces himself as Francisco, ‘but you can call me Frankie’,shaking your hand firmly and confidently. The sheer size of his palm compared to yours makes you swallow dryly, adding to the list of annoyances  you’ve already racked up today. 

“Please, go get dressed. And hurry. I’ll get started on loading up.” The two men disappear out of sight and you get to work.

 At least they don't take long and have the courtesy to bring the rest of the equipment on their way back out. And then it's not much longer until you’re finally seated with your headset on, buckled in, and Frankie’s communication with air traffic control layers staticky over the vibrating thrum of the chopper starting up.

 It’s deeply annoying that even his voice is nice to listen to, but you know that’s not the source of your frustration... It’s the fact that he’s replacing your friend - your best friend. 

It’s that you’re outnumbered by men, and it’s especially that they’ve already known each other forever. Benny told you as much while you were strapping everything in and sanitizing surfaces before take-off - apparently he had put a good word in for Frankie to be hired.

 There’s an easy banter between the two of them over comms, in which you decidedly don’t partake; it feels like you’re the third wheel, intruding. You feel out of place with them, on this helicopter, on this job. You’ve never felt like this at work before, not even on your own first day when you met Phoebe. She made you feel included and comfortable from the moment you shook hands, and you immediately worked together as a cohesive unit. 

 You’re in the middle of an inner monologue about the situation, talking yourself deeper into the frustration, when Benny addresses you. You’re settled in the air, finally at altitude as Frankie smoothly tilts the helicopter along a predetermined route given to him by air traffic control.

“What’s that you got there?” he asks, pointing at the slightly crumpled evaluation form you’re clutching in your hands. He’s aggressively chewing gum and bouncing his leg, it makes your facial muscles finally relax into somewhat of an easier expression. At least it’s still the same Benny you’re working with. You hand him the sheet and he skims it, then gives it back with a grin, but doesn’t say anything. 

 “Are you okay back there?” Frankie asks when there’s no verbal reply to Benny’s question, glancing back over his shoulder. 

“Yes, don’t worry about it. Focus on getting us back down in one piece,” you respond. It comes out a little harsh, but you don’t pay it any mind.

Frankie shakes his head and turns back to the windshield, flying them smoothly and competently along the route. The longer you’re in the air, the more frustrated you feel, finding nothing about his demeanor or his flying that you could legitimately be disappointed with. Nothing to write down as a negative on his evaluation form.

Turns out, he’s infuriatingly and devastatingly competent.

You can feel your own leg start to shake back and forth a bit, the inner boiling beginning to affect you a bit more outwardly. Frankie’s voice sounds over the comms as you all arrive at your given location - just a mile or so out from the hospital.

“Turning around, and heading back to base, now.” The smoothness of his voice catches you off-guard every time. It’s like an expensive liquor in your ears, even through the static of the comms and the deafening loudness that is the inside of a helicopter. You close your eyes and sigh heavily, shaking it off. It feels impossible, but you just have to get through today. You could go home tonight and pour yourself a big glass of wine over it, but you have to figure out a way to not let this affect you. So, you shift in your seat, looking out over the city in front of you, and you count your breaths a few times, trying to regulate yourself. It helps, at least a little, and you sit back in your seat with a small sigh. 

Frankie has the helicopter back in no time. He’s landing at base, again without a hitch, and you unbuckle yourself so that you can shuffle out of the chopper and back into base as quickly as possible. 

You hole yourself up in the dorm for as long as you can, figuring some distance might help you shake the ugly feeling in your chest. Trying to focus on a new book Phoebe gifted you as a going away present, you’re laying back in your cot as you flip through the first pages. 

An alarm blares over the intercom. They’re sending you out on your first call with the new pilot. A glance at your watch tells you you've lost track of time a little bit, it's almost noon already. You groan but immediately get to it, tossing the book onto your bed and grabbing your bag before jogging out to the helipad. Frankie is already there, climbing in, and you meet him inside just as Benny arrives as well. Everyone’s headsets are on in barely a moment as the chopper starts. Frankie turns and offers a nod to each of you - which you reluctantly reciprocate - before he takes off in the direction of the accident.

It’s a short trip - only a few minutes, really - and you land on a closed-off highway that’s got a three-car pileup blocking all lanes of traffic. There must be hundreds of cars unable to pass and waiting on tow trucks, police and your own team to clear their path. Ground EMS is there, too - you can see the lights from where you are, and you jump out of the helicopter, booking it toward them as Benny pulls out the stretcher to meet you there. The firefighters have already pulled your patient from the car, laid out on one of their stretchers with a very visible head injury. You crouch down, telling them your name and a few gentle pleasantries. You’re not sure they can even hear you, but you do it for all of your patients, no matter how bad of a shape they’re in.

“We’ve got you, now. Don’t worry - my team’s gonna get you to the hospital in no time at all, we’re gonna take good care of you.” One of your fellow paramedics on the ground gives you the low-down on the patient, explaining their injuries, position in the crash, and how the firefighters pulled them out. You nod, taking note of everything as you scan the patient yourself for visual confirmation. Asking a few follow-up questions, you nod to them and offer a polite ‘thank you’ as they stand and step to the side. 

Benny jumps in then, offering you a smile before locking eyes with you. On the count of three, you lift the patient over to your stretcher. Two of the firefighters jump in toward the foot of the stretcher, grabbing the backboard along with you and Benny, and the four of you move quickly over to the helicopter as you load the patient into the cabin. 

Frankie glances back at you, watching to make sure everything goes according to protocol. You and Benny finish buckling the patient down, and then sit in your seats, turned toward them as Benny continually takes vitals and you apply pressure to a deep wound on their shoulder. After one last cabin check, Frankie takes off, en route to the second closest hospital, given it has the resources to tend to your patient properly. 

“Three minutes to General.” He calls back to you, and Benny nods with a ‘roger’ in response. Those three minutes are always both the longest and the shortest all at once - Benny and you working seamlessly to tend to the patient with all of your supplies and training available to you. You’re watching them inevitably deteriorate at once, so you’re grateful when you can finally feel the descent down to the helipad. 

Doctors and nurses are waiting on the pad with a stretcher already, making the transition an easy one as you slide the patient off of the backboard. They run off then, Benny in tow, and you lag behind at the helicopter as the blades above you slowly whirr to a halt. Frankie climbs out as they stop, walking over to stand next to you. 

“Everything go alright?” He asks.

You sigh, the adrenaline of the call slowly starting to wear off. “Yeah. As alright as it could have.” You’re not sure what else to say, so you stand there awkwardly, thoughts bouncing around in your skull for a long while. “I’ve gotta do some paperwork.” 

You walk off, moving back into the cabin of the helicopter to grab the papers Chief Lewis handed you this morning. Setting them up on a clipboard, you settle into your seat and cross your legs, propping it up. It’s not actually that much paperwork, really, but it’s enough to make your head swim. This is, and will always be, your least favorite part of your job.

You fill out the pages on auto-pilot, jotting down route numbers, ID badge information, and generally recalling the course of the day so far. It startles you, then, when you hear the pilot’s door open up. Frankie steps in and takes a seat, swiveling his legs around to face you. He ticks his chin up at you and says, “Hey.”

You lift your eyes to him only briefly, not looking away from the page for more than a second, and raise one eyebrow at him in confusion. “What do you need, Morales?” He blinks back at you a few times and shakes his head.

“Nothing, just… wanted to say hi, I guess. We didn’t really get much of an introduction earlier.” You raise your chin to meet his gaze, settling against the back of your seat as you regard him.

“Well, hello. Consider us introduced.” You sigh, getting back to work on the papers and doing your best to ignore him further. - - -

The look on your face confuses Frankie to no end. He feels like maybe he did something wrong, said something wrong, perhaps? Made a wrong call during their test flight? It has to be something horrible to make you dislike him so blatantly, but you’ve only been working together for a few hours or so at this point. 

He’s been replaying the day in his mind over and over again, searching for the moment where he slipped up, that moment when everything went wrong, but no matter what he does, he can’t find it, can’t quite figure out why you’ve grown to detest him so much already. He shifts in his seat, staring blankly out through the windshield as he waits for Benny to get back. It’s another internal battle to figure out if it’s worth it to keep trying, or if he should just give up and let you sulk. Maybe it had nothing to do with him, after all. 

But, he’d never know if he didn’t try.

Sighing, he turns back around again and gives you a once over before speaking up once more. “Hey, uh… I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot or somethin’. Can we try this again? Tomorrow, maybe.” You huff, but acquiesce, looking up at him with a scowl on your face.

“Sure, fine. Whatever you want, Morales.” You look back down at the papers in your hands as Frankie brightens just a little bit, feeling better at the chance for a fresh start, even if you’re less than enthused about it. He sighs, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and turns back to the windshield, eyes trained to the hospital doors that Benny would hopefully be walking back out of soon.

It’s a few more minutes only and he’s doing exactly that, climbing up into the cabin of the helicopter with one of his bright signature smiles that makes Frankie shake his head. They head back to base in silence, unloading themselves and their equipment to clean and sanitize. They restock their bags, reload the chopper, and then they’re left to their own devices again. 

Amazingly, they don't get another call for the rest of their day. Frankie stays largely in the day room with Benny, and he doesn’t see you for the rest of the shift, or even when he goes to leave. Benny walks up to him as he’s slinging his backpack over his shoulder and they walk out of the base together.

“Hey, Fish. Decent first day, I hope?” Frankie sighs, pulling off his hat so he can run his fingers through his hair, putting it right back atop his thick dark curls.

“Decent enough, I guess.” Offering a nervous chuckle, he shifts his backpack on his shoulders as they start to head out. “Very different from flying in the army, that’s for sure.”

Benny smiles back at him. “It’ll take some time to get used to, but you’re a natural. Knew you would be, man.” Frankie nods, appreciative of the compliment, and they continue to walk in silence for a few more steps before he perks up with a question of his own.

“Hey, Benny, can I ask you somethin’?” Benny turns, regarding him as the cadence to their steps slows.

“Sure, man. Whatever you need.” They pause in front of Frankie’s beaten up truck, turning to face one another. Frankie’s head ticks toward the base.

“Is she always… like that? Feel like I did somethin' wrong… real wrong, if I’m being honest. Is she cold like that with everyone? Or is it just me?” Benny lets out a hearty laugh and claps Frankie on the shoulder, squeezing him reassuringly.

“Just give her some time. I think she’ll warm up to you pretty quickly. You’re a good guy, Frankie, so just keep being you. She’ll get there, I promise.” Frankie nods in understanding, accepting Benny’s words with a frustrated huff.

“Alright, If you say so.” They offer each other a curt nod and head in their own directions, Frankie ducking into his car and taking a moment to settle himself before driving off in the direction of his apartment.

~ ~ ~

It takes Phoebe a while to pick up when you call her that night, leaning over your kitchen counter and fidgeting with the handle of your spatula. You almost give up when the line finally connects and you hear her voice at the other end. She’s just slightly out of breath, making you think she must have rushed to find her phone at the other end of her apartment.

“Hellooo,” she sings as a greeting and you hear her sit down in her creaky porch chair, front door falling shut in the background. You sigh before you say anything, but then muster a squeaky “Hey.”

It must be so obvious, the exasperation in your voice, because she makes a sympathetic sound before she asks you what’s wrong.

“Oh no, honey, rough day? What happened?”

You sigh into the phone and plop yourself down in your kitchen chair after flipping your food in the pan. “It’s just… the new pilot. He’s a man so I’m left now as the only woman on the crew. And, even better, he and Benny have been super close for years already, and it was him who recommended him for the job. I’m like the third wheel. It’s horrible!” You can hear a breathy laugh on the other side that she tries to cover up, unsuccessfully. “Oh come on, Phoebs… You’re living your best life in your new cushy job and I’m stuck with these two big burly boys. By myself. You’ve abandoned me!” You’re joking mostly, at this point, but the feelings inside are still real, even if you’re covering them up with a bit of laughter.

“I know. A new start like this is tough. But give the guy a chance. If he’s friends with our Benny, he’s gotta be a good one, right? He deserves a fair shot. Give it a couple of days, and see how you’re feeling about it then. It’s too raw right now to be able to make any real sense of it, anyway.” She pauses for a moment and you take a deep breath, standing up to check on your food.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know I didn’t give you much time to prepare for it, either. It’s hard, no matter how you swing it.” You nod your head, even though she can’t see you, and look out into the distance of your living room.

“It is. But you’re right, too. I can give him a couple days, that’s only fair.” You sigh, frustrated to know that she’s right, but always grateful for her advice, anyway.

“Exactly. If it was you in his position, you’d only want the same, wouldn’t you?” 

You huff, her wisdom starting to whittle away at your misplaced rage. “Yeah yeah, voice of reason. I know. I’ll give him a chance.”

She chuckles on the other side of the line. “Now that’s my girl! I’d bet he makes out to be pretty decent, after all. Benny wouldn’t stick his neck out like this for just anyone, and you know that.”

You nod in agreement even though she can’t see you. “Definitely not.”

“So just keep your head up and ride it out. You’ll know soon enough.”

[mysticstarlightduck]

Personality Through Quotes

Thanks for the tag @kaylinalexanderbooks!!! (here)

MY QUOTE IS: A quote about a weird habit they/someone else has.

YOUR QUOTE IS: A quote about your character's feelings about their world's government

Corah - "Hmm. Sometimes I tend to wake up in the middle of the night to stare at the stars. I don't know why, but it's very calming. I like to count out all the constellation Dad has taught me about and the tales about each one, and then I try to make up new ones until the stories get more and more chaotic and outlandish with each new one and then I go back to sleep."

Arammys - "I would say my weird habit is that, from time to time, I try making up stories in my mind, to replace the memories I don't have, and its come to the point that that habit's more like an intrusive thought rather than anything else and it concerns me. Like, I'll see someone on the street and immediatelly start imagining a whole backstory for how we might've met before and how they're my former best friend turned rival turned acquaintance - and the next thing I know I forgot what I was doing - But I'm normal, right? That's totally normal, right?"

Eidan - "I collect stuff! Genuinely. There's no real pattern to it and I don't really remember why I started. It's not an obsession or anything, just a hobby to distract me from stuff that might upset me. I'll just be walking down the riverbed and be like 'ooh that's a neat shell' and pick it up and add it to The Collection. I'll walk through the market and see a silk ribbon necklace on sale and I'll buy it and guess what, add it to The Collection. Anything that really stands out to me in some way makes it to my collection - but I have to really, really like the thing in order for it to be chosen. My collection of assorted knick knacks is as random as it is carefully curated. (smiles, actually proud of his collection)"

Nimwen - "Oh, neat! Not my weird habit, but my brother's - when he is upset he starts counting in Syllen, which is a local dialect from the city where we were born which nobody - except scholars and really really specific groups of people - really uses anymore. He also worries a lot and used to talk in his sleep - not anything concerning, just gibberish, but enough to wake me up every five minutes until I got used to it."

Rin - "People say I'm weird because I eat bugs and rodents. I don't think that's weird - they don't think it's weird for birds to eat those things, and my species is basically just a humanoid bird (okay, I'm an avian fey to be precise). Insects and rodents are a natural part of my diet, and people are the ones who need to stop being so sensitive to everything I do. Hey, is that a cricket?"

Tomasa - "Oh, my turn, my turn! I like to sing at the top of my lungs while bathing, even if I am admiteddly a bit off key I am having fun. I also like to go to taverns where no one knows anything about me and try to challenge the biggest dude in the place to a drinking contest! The look on their faces when I win is always priceless."

Masen - "Does using the bardic talents I hoped to one day be famous for to steal from my audience because I've had to become a thief instead count as a weird habit? That's not a rhetoric question, does it? I really wanna know, dude!"

Kyran - "I'm not really the kind of person who has 'weird habits', but if you really want to know... some of my inventions aren't exactly that legal, and they do have a tendency to... explode? But only on occasion, and sometimes to my favor, but you didn't hear it from me and you don't have any proof to tell anyone you heard this."

Maryon - "I like climbing to the roof of the towers of the castles - it's a beautiful and breathtaking view. I can see my whole city from there, covered in beautiful snow and blue ice, and the mountains of Tirawen are a small dot on the horizon. Occasionally, I'll see the outline of a dragon flying in the distance! I don't think it's a 'weird' habit, but it is certainly a risky one. I sometimes do this for fun, other times to escape from my duties when I want some peace and quite, haha"

Florynce - "I talk to the trees - and they whisper back at me! So do the flowers and the rocks and the rivers and the birds, and all of the forest! It says my blood runs through it."

Leora - "Don't tell anyone, or my reputation as the fearless underground leader might be at risk. But I still have my childhood plush toy and I can only sleep if I have it on my bed. It brings me comfort in a way little else does."

Elias - "Ooh, I have one hell of a list of weird quirks curated and stored straight from my brothers' childhood - Masen used to sleepwalk, until he one day he hit a wall and woke everyone in the house but not himself, Kyran one time got into an argument with an old lady at the market because they couldn't decide whether or not the scarf a vendor was selling was lilac or purple and turns out it was neither because it was pink, Masen used to cry whenever he heard a sad story involving dogs, Kyran said he hated the sea but turns out he didn't want to admit he was scared of sea monsters - want me to keep going? Because I can."

Tagging (gently, no pressure):@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @inky-duchess @late-to-the-fandom, @eccaiia @willtheweaver @littleladymab @cabbojage @lassiesandiego @little-peril-stories @oh-no-another-idea @thepeculiarbird @rickie-the-storyteller @crowandmoonwriting @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gummybugg @forthesanityofstorytellers @doublegoblin @aalinaaaaaa @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @elshells @clairelsonao3 @anyablackwood @tabswrites @illarian-rambling and OPEN TAG

[thesensteawitch]

Weekly Tarot Reading (18th September- 24th September) 🪻🔮💜

Pick A Pile Reading

♡Take A Deep Breath and Choose♡

(Left to Right---1,2,3)

Hey, Senstea Souls!

This is a collective reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And if you find this reading helpful then drop a tip before leaving.♡

Pile 1

Hello, my dear pile 1. I see that you have started something new or may start something new at the beginning of this week. You are/will be full of optimism and hope for this new project but because of your need for instant gratification, you may get disappointed not seeing the results so soon. The flowers in your garden might take longer than expected to grow. But life is about being patient. Especially when you start something with so much passion, hope, and optimism you will be tested. The Universe wants to know how strong you are and for how long you can hold on to hope. During this week please treat others nicely and do not let your anger take the best of you. An important advice here is to not think too much or overwork because if you will you may have a burnout which doesn't seem good to me. Also, an old friend or acquaintance may pay a visit. Be kind to them but at the same time make sure you have your guard up. You may not like this person much or even if you do still be cautious but be giving. I know it's a bit complex but this is what it is. Be patient with what you have started, you will see the results. Release the attachment to the result and fall in love with the process.

To get more clarity and guidance specific to your situation book a reading with me.

Pile 2

Hello, my dear pile 2. So I see that you have come out of a pattern or maybe right now you are somewhere in the middle. It's like you are out of the situation that was needed to let go of but you still aren't sure how to restart. Now you are supposed to start fresh and make plans. You may be revisiting your past actions or the situation that led you to where you are now. But for the future foundation to be laid, you need to stop looking back. Why something happened to you is because there was a profound wisdom you needed to gain. You are asked to let go of the old ways of doing things and ask for someone's guidance. I see that you are not alone. There's someone who knows your situation and is helping you out. But I think you need some guidance from a specialist to help you with your situation and woosh away the dark clouds that dance over your head. You will be facing some competition but the good thing is nothing is yet set in stone for you. Which means you can carve your own path. Now the decision is in your hands. Adaptability is a must for you. By the end of this week, if you make the right move, you will see your reality shifting.

To get more clarity and guidance specific to your situation book a reading with me.

Pile 3

Hello, my dear pile 3. I see that this coming week a lot of things will not be in your control. You might want to burst out or give a punch in the wall. But that's not what you're asked to do. You're asked to think twice before taking a risk. Don't act impulsively. Stay near water bodies, take saltwater baths, or go for swimming. You are asked to slow down a bit and look at things from a different perspective. Your rigidity might make things worse for you in this coming week. Don't give up on your morals but try to listen to others too. And when you feel a strong resistance to do so then ask yourself what is that you are so afraid of. Because there's an underlying fear behind your excessive stubbornness. I can assure you that if you calm down for a bit when you are on the verge of letting your anger take over you and just shift a bit of your perspective you will gain a profound insight. A rebirth is there on the cards for you. Things will be happening in your favor even though you may not be able to see it. You have to trust and maintain your composure. Let go of something that you are afraid of. You may be somebody who easily becomes paranoid. Release the fear.

To get more clarity and guidance specific to your situation book a reading with me.