#finally got a chance to write this all out

[delilahsturniolo]

— 𝜗ৎ the greatest . . . m.s

in which . . . you want something more with fwb!matt, but he shuts you down, turning it into an argument, so he decides to “make it up to you” and you can’t help but give in

warnings . . . fwb!matt, smut, arguing, crying, unprotected sex, unresolved angst, use of pet names, fingering, multiple orgasms.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #6

there's something about matt that just drives you wild. maybe it's the way he looks at you with those piercing blue eyes or the way his hair falls perfectly into place. whatever it is, you can't get enough of him. but the problem is, all he wants from you is to fuck, and nothing more. a real relationship is where he draws the line. you've been friends with benefits for a while now, but lately, you've been wanting something more. you want to be able to call him yours, to have him hold you close and tell you that he loves you. but every time you bring it up, he shuts you down.

"matt, we need to talk," you say, tangled in the sheets. "about what?" he asks, pulling on his shirt and avoiding your gaze. "about us. about what we're doing here."

"we're having fun, aren't we? i mean, the sex is amazing. what more do you want?" you take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "i want more than just sex, matt. i want a relationship. i want to be with you." he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "i can't give you that. i'm not the relationship type."

"why not? why can't you just give us a chance?" you plead, matt snaps back. "because i don't want to hurt you. i care about you, i do. but i'm not capable of being what you need." you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "how do you know what i need? you've never even tried."

"look, let's just drop it, okay? we're good together, let's not ruin it by trying to make it into something it's not." you shake your head, wiping away a stray tear. "i can't keep doing this, matt.." he looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment you think he might actually be considering it. but then he leans in close, his breath hot on your neck, and whispers, "let me make it up to you."

and just like that, you're putty in his hands. he knows exactly how to touch you, how to make you moan and writhe beneath him. he trails kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your curves, and you know you should stop him, should tell him no, but you can't. you need him, need this. you can’t resist going back to him. you love the way he makes you feel and you will never escape that.

he pushes you back onto the bed, his body covering yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. he thrusts into you, filling you completely, and you cry out, your nails digging into his back. “you feel so good," he groans, his hips slamming against yours. "so tight and wet for me."

"matt, please," you whimper, not even sure what you're asking for. "i've got you, baby. i'll take care of you." and he does. he fucks you hard and deep, hitting all the right spots, until you're a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. and when you finally cum, screaming his name, he follows right behind you, spilling himself inside you.

but you’re not done yet. matt leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, and whispers, "you want this, don't you?" you can only nod, your heart pounding in your chest. his fingers brush against your panties, already damp with your arousal. he chuckles softly, a sound that sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

his fingers deftly push your panties aside, revealing your slick folds. he runs a finger along your slit, gathering your wetness on his fingertip. he brings it to his lips, tasting you. "mmm," he hums, "you taste so sweet, can’t get enough of this pretty pussy..” then, without warning, he plunges a finger inside you. you gasp, your back arching off the sheets. he pumps his finger in and out of you, adding another when he feels you're ready. his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles around it.

your hips buck wildly, meeting his thrusts. you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter. "that's it," matt encourages, "cum for me again.” and you do. your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your walls clamping down on matt's fingers. he continues to pump them in and out of you, prolonging your pleasure until you're left a quivering mess on the couch. he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips once again. he sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

afterwards, he holds you close, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. and even though you know it's not real, that he's not really yours, you can't help but bask in the afterglow. you know you shouldn't keep doing this, shouldn't keep falling back into bed with him, all he wanted was to see you naked. but the truth is, you're addicted to him, to the way he makes you feel. and as much as you want more, you're not sure you're ready to give this up just yet.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: MAN AM I THE GREATESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Rain Showers

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: A blown tire. A borrowed jacket. And a love and life that grew because of it.

Word Count: 3.2k+ (one of my longer oneshots hehe)

Content: FLUFFFF , pregnancy and kids , kissing , some suggestive hints , cutie cutness!

A/N: this came from me getting a flat tire the other day being stranded and thinking hmm wish i had a Bucky rn and also @navybrat817 and her talk about southern Bucky *drools*

My Masterlist

Requests always open!!! and I'm going through all of them tomorrow to write! 🌷

It started with rain.

Pouring rain.

One second the warm breezy spring night was quiet and peaceful , the crickets buzzing and chirping under the blush of beginning twilight. 

The very next , the skies cracked open without a single sound or warning. Y/N’s phone had said 20% chance of light showers — when she checked the night before but the deluge soaking through her hair and onto her dress-covered shoulders as she ran heel-first to her car was more like a monsoon.

“Dammit,” she swore under her breath , flinging open the door and diving head first inside.

The engine began as she started the car and then turned over with a familiar cough and grunt. Her grandmother’s farmhouse faded in the rearview as she peeled off the windy gravel driveway , windshield wipers slapping in lazy protest against the surprise downpour.

She chose to wear a short summer floral dress, something her grandma had teasingly complimented with a wink and a "You'll knock some poor boy dead in that, sweetheart." 

Right now it felt more like a soggy wet napkin clinging to her soft skin.

The road stretched long and winding through the back hills and valleys , barely lit by her dimming headlights. 

She was maybe fifteen minutes from town when a sudden sound erupted.

BANG.

The whole car jerked sideways with a violent shudder and unraveled. She wrestled the steering wheel, heart slamming against her ribs as she detoured off to a newby shoulder. Her tires screamed and screeched on the gravel. 

For a momen t, she just sat there , hands clenched white knuckled on the wheel , chest rising and falling like a pair of jackrabbit's.

Then she screamed to herself. Not out of fear—but sheer frustration.

“You have got to be kidding me, why universe!”

She shoved the door wide open into the rain , sandal wedges squishing in the sopping wet mud. One glance at the back left tire told her all she needed to know.

Blown out. Shredded. Completely and utterly useless.

She didn’t know how long she sat back in the car just sitting , arms wrapped around her knees , trying not to cry. 

The rain pounded harder , relentlessly. 

Her phone? Dead. Charger? Non-existent. And she was stuck on a road that probably hadn't seen another car or sign of life that was a deer since last week.

She was working up to let out another good scream when headlights cut through the downpour in the distance.

She froze squinting.

A white truck rumbled into view—big , boxy , older than her but running strong roaring down the road. It slowed beside her car as the window rolled down slowly.

“You alright, ma’am?”

She blinked. Again and Again.

The man behind the question had a face carved like a marble statue , strong jaw, high cheekbones , scruff peppering his chin littered with peppery greys throughout—and eyes too soft for a man that big. 

His voice was all country warmth and beautiful Southern drawl, deep and smooth like the sweetest honey and molasses.

She hesitated , instincts prickling realizing her compromising situation.

But he didn’t push. 

Just waited in the rain , one arm resting out the open window , his other hand clearly visible on the wheel.

“My tire blew,” she said finally ; quickly. “No spare. And my…my phone’s dead.” She hung her head low like he was going to scold her or something.

But he just nodded. “Storm’s just getting worse. My place is up the road. You’re welcome to ride out the rain there with me. Safer than sittin' here in a dead dark car on slick gravel.”

She hesitated again. Blinking.

Then looked around sheepishly.

The storm wasn’t letting up anytime soon. Her limbs were shivering now from being cold , we t, and fearful. And this large handsome man hadn’t come off threatening—just kind.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “Just until the storm passes.”

He climbed out and jogged around to open the passenger door for her.

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he gave her a lopsided smile. “Barnes.”

“Thank you Bucky” You blushed, giving him your name as well as you two headed off for his home.

The cabin was about a mile down the road—tucked between towering pines, with a deep wooden porch and flickering amber lights inside. 

It was cozy. Weathered. Smelled like cedar and old books.

As they made it inside he kicked off his muddy boots and shed his jacket as she snuck a look at his arms now visible. 

Bucky disappeared to the bedroom she had guessed and came back handing her a soft warm towel and gestured toward the couch.

“Cushions are pretty soft , got extra blankets in the closet. Clothes too—my sister leaves stuff here sometimes. Think you two might be about the same size.” He looked her up and down as he spoke making her flush again and the tip of his ears turn red.

She peeled off her soaked dress behind the bathroom door and changed into an oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts folded neatly on the counter he had provided. They smelled faintly of vanilla and something like sawdust.

When she came out , he was fluffing a pillow for her on the couch.

“Hope that’s alright,” he said, stepping back nodding to the sofa.

“It’s perfect Bucky ,” she said, voice soft. “Thank you.”

He nodded once, then headed toward the hall.

“Sleep tight,” he called. “Yell if you need anything at all.”

She smiled and curled under the thick quilt , body finally warming up , eyelids dragging heavy , shut.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” she mumbled.

He paused in the doorway taking one last glance at the pretty girl curled up under the blanket his ma handmade , sprawled out under his roof , all cozy and soft.

“Night, Y/N.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

THUD.

THUD. THUD.

Her eyes blinked open to the faint light of early dawn peeking through fogged windows and curtains. For a second, she didn’t remember where she was , slightly frightening her. Then she smelled coffee and heard boots on the hardwood floor.

She sat up on the couch , rubbing sleep from her eyes clutching the quilt to her chest.

Eyes scanning the room till she found him bent over by the waist at the door , tugging on his work boots , plaid sleeves rolled up over strong tanned forearms , his over shirt hanging open over a simple white tee.

Her dress was laid neatly across the arm of the couch. Washed. Dried. Smoothed flat like something fragile.

“Morning,” he said without turning, hearing her little yawn. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she stretched slowly. “You, um… you washed my dress?”

He looked up and gave a half-shrug half grin. “Figured you’d want it clean if we’re headed into town.”

“Town?”

He stood straightening , grabbing a thermos and his keys. “My buddy Clint’s got a shop on Willow. I gave him a ring early this morning—he towed your car out while you were still sleepin’. Figured we could meet him there , get your tire fixed and all that.”

Her jaw slackened slightly. “You did all that? Before coffee?”

“Yes ma'am ,  and I make real good coffee,” he grinned , offering her a travel mug.

She smiled brightly , warmth blooming behind her ribs. “You really are a kind stranger.”

Bucky held the screen door open. “Alright , up and at em’ lets get you back on the road, darlin’.”

She changed quickly , slipping back into her little floral dress and heels , prancing back with a joyful look.

“Atta girl , lets go” He smirked following her out the door.

 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The rain had stopped at around four in the morning , but the air was still cool , and her damp hair curled and mused from sleeping on the couch.

The ride into town was a short one. His truck smelled like pine and motor oil she hadn't noticed her first time inside , the leather bench seat soft and warm under her half bare legs. 

The radio played low — old country music , the kind that sounded like porch swings and sunset beers.

About halfway there , the song changed. Something catchy. A little playful.

She started humming. Then singing under her breath.

Bucky glanced over and smirked. “You know this one?”

“I love this one,” she said , volume rising full on singing along npw.

He turned the radio up at that.

Next thing she knew, they were both singing together , windows cracked , the wind tangling her wavy hair as she laughed between lyrics. 

His voice was deep and a little rough between sips of coffee , but all charming. Like everything about him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The shop came into view too soon than they both wanted.

Clint waved them in from the garage bay , wiping his hands on a dirty rag. “She the damsel?”

Bucky leaned out the window. “Yep” he said, popping the “p” with a wink shot her way “And the reason I was late.”

“Pretty good excuse,” Clint grinned. “Tire’s trashed but I got a spare that’ll fit. Just need a little time.”

“Mind if I stick around the garage ?” she asked.

“Not at all,” Clint said, winking. “Most excitement we’ve had all week here.”

Bucky grabbed the tool next to CLint and started working alongside him , shirt sleeves rolled back again , grease smudging his fingers and knuckles.

Y/N sat on the tailgate of his truck , legs swinging back and forth as she watched them both work.

At one point , Clint went to grab a bolt , and Bucky caught her shivering slightly in the breeze tucking her arms around herself as she looked up at the fluffy white clouds.

Without a word or ask , he stood , tugged off his work jacket she hadn't seen him throw on , and draped it gently right over her shoulders.

She blinked down surprised at the action at him from where she was perched on the truck. 

The jacket smelled like cedar , coffee, and something surprisingly clean from all the wear and tear it had. 

She looked down at the name embroidered in fraying thread across the chest: BARNES.

“T-thanks,” her cheeks tinted slightly pink , tugging it tighter around her.

He met her eyes and gave a quiet knowing smile. “Looks good on ya’.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

About an hour later , the tire was fixed and halfway through realizing the wheel rim was bent that was also now fixed , and her car was ready to go.

She hopped off the truck wobbly slipping a little on some oil , jacket still wrapped around her.

Bucky was quick at her side grip on her hips as he steadied her. “Careful honey”

After a beat he leaned back on the hood , hands snug in his jean pockets.

She sighed and started to slip the jacket off her frame.

“Keep it,” he said.

She paused her movements. “What?”

He smiled—slow, easy, all charm with some mischief she saw right through.

“That way I’ve gotta excuse to see ya’ again.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She glanced down shyly, then back up meeting his eyes.

“That was pretty smooth , Barnes.”

He shrugged. “I try.”

She laughed and climbed into her car keeping the jacket tight around her , hands on the wheel , heart pounding harder than it had any right to.

As she slowly pulled away , she glanced back in the mirror.

He was still standing there watching.

Watching her go—with a look that said this wasn’t the end.

Not even close.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Five years later

The bell over the adjoining office door to the garage jingled , followed by the faint click-clack of little shoes on concrete.

“Sweetheart?” Y/N called out , her voice warm but slightly exasperated. “You forgot your jacket. Again.”

Bucky’s head popped up from under the hood of a battered old blue Chevy. His hair was tied back in a lazy low bun , a smudge of grease streaked right across his perfect  jaw , and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled halfway up his now tattooed forearms. 

The radio he had sat beside as he worked crackled something old and bluesy in the background.

He blinked up. Then grinned.

There she stood in the doorway of the garage , framed by soft greyish blue morning light. 

Her hair was pinned up in a loose bun with pieces falling out here and there , cheeks flushed from the walk over from the bakery , an all too familiar jacket slung over her arm—the same one he’d draped over her shoulders that rainy night years ago. 

She was holding their wiggly toddler daughter in the same arm the jacket lay on , the other carefully balancing on her belly , now just starting to round with baby number two.

Their squirmy , bright-blue eyed girl let out a squeal and smacked her tiny palm against Y/N’s cheek with gleeful force.

“Baby, gentle hands,” Y/N said , trying not to laugh as she adjusted the toddler on her hip. “We use our hands for love , not smacking mama.”

“DAH-DEE!” the little girl shouted , squirming harder trying to get to her father.

Bucky was already striding across the shop , wiping his hands on a semi clean rag. “Hey , princess,” he said, voice gone soft as cotton.

He leaned down and kissed Y/N first—slow , warm, unrushed and needed.

“You’re really bad at remembering jackets,” she murmured against his lips, stealing another kiss.

“That’s why I married a smart woman,” he said with a wink, “to keep my forgetful ass alive.”

She snorted and handed over their daughter , who immediately snuggled into Bucky’s chest like she’d been waiting all day just for him , even having just seen him that morning.

“You’re early,” he said , pressing a kiss to their daughter’s soft brown messy curls , smoothing them out of her face. “Everything okay?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing a hand over her belly. “Fine. I just… we wanted to see you. You didn’t get much sleep last night and just wanted to check on you before the rain starts up heavy again” 

Bucky glanced out the open garage doors. Soft droplets were tapping against the pavement. The kind of lazy storm that just lingered and barely was rolling in.

Y/N smiled and held up the jacket. “And you left your lucky jacket at home.”

He set their daughter down on a stool beside his workbench—she immediately reached for a wrench with curious little fingers trawling it around.

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Hey now , no tools unless Mama says so shes the boss.”

Y/N laughed then slowly grimaced a little , walked over , setting the jacket down on her lap as she took a seat , then pressed a hand to her lower back and exhaled.

Bucky noticed immediately scooping up the toddler and setting her on his knee, bouncing as she lay a hand rubbing Y/N’s shoulders with concern.

“Hey,” Worry flickered in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah , just a little sore. The baby’s been doing somersaults and cartwheels since breakfast.”

He rested a hand gently on her waist, then slowly slid it around to her rounding stomach.

“You’re sure it’s not twins darlin’?” he teased , his palm spreading across the curve of her bump.

“If it is, I’m suing you Barnes.”

He chuckled, then leaned in and kissed her temple. “How’s baby doing today besides given’ ya hell?”

She softened immediately , resting her own hand over his.

“Active,” she said. “Keeps kicking only the left side of my belly like it’s mad at it or something.”

Bucky grinned and crouched slightly, leaning just enough to speak directly to her belly but not enough to jostle the wiggly toddler still perched on his thigh. “Hey, now, you gotta be nice to mama. You’ll meet her soon enough i promise , no need to bruise her tummy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately. “You talk to all your engine parts like that too?”

“Only the tricky ones.”

She laughed , brushing a smudge of grease off his cheek and jaw with the pad of her thumb. “You’re good at this , you know. All of this.”

Bucky sat up again and wrapped an arm around her back pressing a kiss to the crown of their daughter's head. “I wasn’t, at first , was fu-... freaking clueless.”

“No,” she said softly , “but you chose to be there for us. Every single day.”

Their daughter let out a sudden squeal , frustrated she couldn’t reach the shiny socket wrench just out of reach of her fathers hold.

“I got her,” Y/N said going to stand.

“No,” Bucky grinned, already swooping in. “This one’s all mine.”

He scooped the girl up again and spun her gently blowing a raspberry on her cheek, both of them giggling loudly. She buried her face in his chest catching her breath , clutching his shirt like he was the whole world , he was , her whole world.

Y/N watched them , hand drifting back to her belly.

There was a time—back in that cold , lonely spring—when she couldn’t imagine a future like this. Now she couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than this right now.

Bucky caught her staring and raised an eyebrow tossing the tot to his hip.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Just thinking.”

“Oof , that's dangerous,” he teased , a full smile covering ninety percent of his face.

“Do you remember the first time I stepped into this shop?”

He glanced around—the cluttered counters , the wall of tools , the ancient coffee machine and looked back at her.

“You mean you in that little dress?” he said, grinning. “Yeah, darlin’. Like it was yesterday.”

“You looked so serious.”

“I was tryin’ not to stare.”

She smirked. “You stared.”

“Can you blame me , honey?”

Their daughter let out a big yawn and nuzzled into Buckys neck. 

“C’mon i'm done for the day lets go on home” He whispered rubbing her back then reaching out his hand for Y/N to take.

She walked over to them slowly , picked up his jacket from her lap , and pulled it around her.

He watched as she rolled the sleeves up her arms , belly just rounding and peeking through under it.

“You keep wearin’ that around with my- now your name on it ,” he said, “I’m gonna have to marry you all over again.”

“Maybe I’ll let you,” she winked , grinning as she turned to leave grabbing his hand in hers.

He followed her out the shop door after fetching his keys , their daughter stirring sleepily in his arms , her curls damp from the drops that made it past Bucky's hand trying to block the rain from her.

Y/N glanced at the sky , then back at him , at them. “Need anything else?”

He looked at her —the ring on her finger , the toddler on his hip , the baby growing in her belly , the jacket she clutched and wore like a second skin.

And shook his head.

“Nope,” he said quietly. “I’ve got everything.”

She smiled , kissed his scruffy cheek , and started walking toward the truck with him beside her.

When he opened her door he leaned down and kissed her–quick and soft—then rested his forehead against hers.

“We built a hell of a life , didn’t we?” he murmured.

She smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “And it all started with some rain , huh?”

Thunder rumbled low and louder getting closer across the hills and valleys.

And then—soft and steady—rain fell harder into a pour.

It ended with rain.

-end

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Comments , Reblogs , Likes and Requests are always loved!

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They let me know that you are enjoying what I'm publishing and gives me motivation to write more and more! :33

[bewitched-hours]

Forsaken | Mafioso & (His)Child!Reader (Part 2)

See part 1 here @lopfuuinhareanon @albinoxp Hope you enjoy o(≧▽≦)o

Reader gets She/Her again~

"And you're sure?" Chance asked you with a perplexed look.

"I saw them! They hesitated!" You protested, struggling against the gambler's grip with tears running over your cheeks.

Nothing you remembered in your past could've prepared you for watching your father actually kill someone. You knew he did it without question, you knew he'd sometimes come home with blood on him and need a bath before you could shower him in affection and stories from what you did with whichever goon stayed behind to watch you.

But you've never seen him actively kill someone...

And when you were the one he got, it felt even worse... Like you've done something to deserve this.

But sometimes... Even he seemed to hesitate when you pleaded with him, telling him you still believed in him even as he killed you.

Somehow... You knew he could hear you... Or at least your fear...

You figured if you just refused to give up, he would remember and win over the Spectre's hold...

"I saw dad too! He had that look again!" You tried to stomp your feet in the air until Chance hid in a building and let you down finally.

You knew he meant well, seeing as you were a bit slower with your shorter legs. Even your bunny speed can't get you so far...

You looked out carefully, watching the goons scramble to find you with an odd look to them... Like they felt guilty...

It honestly broke your heart. Even though they've killed you several times, you still saw them as family and knew you'd forgive them in a heartbeat. It wasn't their fault the Spectre made them turn against you...

You couldn't help but let out soft squeaks. Nothing like the ones you'd show when you let any of the survivors pet you but more with a sad undertone to it. Chance could only pray to his lady luck that the goons wouldn't hear it as you watched them split to look for the gambler and you.

"Kid, I know you can't control your squeaks but is there a way to muffle them at least?" He whispered nervously, trying not to sound upset.

He knew you just wanted your life back. Everyone did.

But they to focus on the present, as did you.

"Sorry..." You muttered, your squeaks quieting down until they were barely heard. You knew Chance felt bad about it though as he proceeded to lead you to a generator and help you with the puzzle so the generator would be done quicker.

By the time you've finished the round and won with Chance as the last two standing, you felt homesick again.

This time though, the survivors tried to trust you a bit more and went to make the table, simply handing you paper and crayons again so you went off to draw like usual until dinner was ready.

You learned the routine by now. Each 'day' has about 6 to 7 rounds before you were all allowed a longer break to have dinner and sleep.

You would get 10 hours to sleep and clean before it all repeated... It exhausted you mentally- wait...

There was a sudden song outside... A whistling you recognized anyday.

You looked to the other survivors and made sure they were distracted with dinner while you quietly snuck out.

"Sorry..." You whispered whilst slipping through the door to find the source of the whistling. A pit practically formed in your stomach and tears prodded through your eyelids as a lump formed in your throat.

It couldn't be a coincidence... It had to be them...

It was the exact melody they would whistle to help you sleep after a nightmare...

Hmm, should the child join the killers, I wonder~?

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[andy-15-07]

Yo can we have more Joaquin Torres x assassin reader where shes always been compassionate and kind but got forced into the assassin life so whenever she has the chance, she would help hide her targets instead to killing them outright

Kindness in the Shadows

PAIRING: Joaquin Torres x Reader 💋

WORD COUNT: 1386 ✍️

REQUESTS: Open! 💌 (send yours my way — I love writing them all!)

🌟 Danny Ramirez Masterlist 🌟

Joaquin had read the files. All of them.

The photos. The surveillance footage. The redacted lines and endless aliases.

You were the ghost with too many names and too few mistakes. The assassin who didn’t leave bodies, just questions. And most importantly?

You were always gone before anyone could blink.

Until now.

He crouched behind a rusted-out sedan, watching through a cracked warehouse window. You were on the second level, standing far too calmly beside a tied-up target who,according to every report,should already be dead.

Except… you were untying him.

“What the hell,” Joaquin muttered.

His earpiece crackled. “Torres, do you have eyes on her?”

“I do,” he whispered back. “She’s not doing what we thought.”

“Repeat?”

“She’s untying him. She’s letting him go.”

A pause.

“She’s not a killer,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You knew you were being watched the moment your fingers slipped the last knot loose.

Your heartbeat had been calm,steady, even,until now. Now it skipped, fluttered, tugged at the edges of your ribs like a warning.

He was here. The Falcon.

Joaquin Torres. Government-trained. Wings sharp, instincts sharper. Charming smile. Steel trap mind. He was everything they said. Everything you weren’t supposed to get close to.

And still…

You stood up slowly, raising your hands in the air, back still turned to the cracked window behind you.

“You going to shoot me?” you asked, voice soft.

A beat.

“No,” came the reply.

You turned.

He stood just inside the window now, wings tucked, eyes trained on you like he didn’t know what to make of what he was seeing. You were supposed to be dangerous, lethal, untouchable.

But your eyes were kind. And your hands were shaking.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

Joaquin blinked. “Hi.”

“Surprised?”

“A little.”

You glanced at the man you’d just untied. “He’s not what they said he is.”

“I know.”

That stopped you. “You do?”

Joaquin exhaled, lowering his stance. “I’ve been following you for two months. You’ve had six ‘confirmed kills’ in that time. Only one of those people is actually missing. The others? New identities. Witness protection. A woman in Nebraska just had a baby.”

You swallowed.

“I didn’t come to bring you in,” Joaquin said, voice gentler now. “I came to figure out why you do it.”

You looked at the floor.

“I don’t like hurting people,” you whispered. “But they made me very good at it.”

Fifteen minutes later, you sat across from him on the rooftop. The man you'd spared had slipped into the shadows, vanished into whatever second chance you’d carved out for him.

Joaquin passed you a bottle of water. “So who are they?”

You gave him a hollow laugh. “If I tell you, they’ll find me. Or worse,find them.”

“The people you’re helping?”

You nodded. “Some of them… they’re not saints, but they didn’t deserve a bullet. I’ve watched enough people die. I decided if I was going to be forced into this life, I’d rewrite the rules.”

He studied you for a moment.

“You hide them. Help them disappear.”

“I give them what I never got,” you said. “A choice.”

He was quiet for a long time.

Finally, he said, “You could’ve run. Why not disappear too?”

“I tried,” you said. “But they found me. And when they did… they reminded me what they could do to the people I care about.”

Joaquin frowned. “There’s a list?”

“There’s always a list.”

Something sharp flickered in his chest. You were too good at hiding pain. Too soft for the stories wrapped around your name like barbed wire.

“You’re not what I expected,” he admitted.

“Yeah,” you said, tired. “Most people expect a monster.”

He shook his head. “I expected someone colder. Someone who didn’t ask her targets if they were okay before untying them.”

You looked away.

“I’m not proud of what I’ve done. But I sleep at night because I don’t finish the job.”

“Even though they think you do.”

You nodded. “It’s safer if they believe that. It buys time. For everyone.”

Joaquin leaned forward. “So let me help.”

Your eyes snapped to his. “What?”

“Let me help you stay ahead of them.”

“I can’t drag you into this. They’re,”

“Dangerous?” he said. “So am I.”

You stared at him. “You’d risk that? For me?”

“You’ve risked your life to protect people you barely know,” Joaquin said. “I’m not going to let you burn alone.”

The next few weeks blurred into a rhythm neither of you expected.

He covered your tracks.

You saved people.

Sometimes, that meant escorting a cartel informant across a state line. Other times, it meant burning files and staging scenes that looked a lot bloodier than they were. Joaquin became your shadow, your air support, your backup.

And sometimes, your quiet at 3 a.m.

Like tonight.

You sat on a motel bed, patching a cut across your rib cage. Joaquin leaned against the dresser, arms folded.

“That guy nearly gutted you,” he muttered.

“He was scared. I still got him out.”

Joaquin walked over, crouched in front of you, gently pushing your hands aside. “Let me.”

You stiffened for half a second, then let him.

His fingers were warm, gentle.

“Why are you like this?” you whispered.

“Like what?”

“Kind. With me.”

He looked up at you. “You don’t think you deserve kindness?”

You didn’t answer.

He smoothed a bandage over your skin. “You’re not a weapon. You’re someone who was used like one.”

Your breath caught.

“And that’s not your fault,” Joaquin added softly.

You looked away, blinking fast. “If I stop… they’ll come after me.”

“Then we take them down first.”

You laughed shakily. “You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not. But it’s possible.”

You looked at him. Really looked at him. “You believe in me.”

He nodded. “Have since day one.”

Your next job went sideways.

Someone tipped them off. You barely had time to slip your target out the back before the warehouse exploded in gunfire.

Joaquin swooped in last second, knocking you out of the way, catching a graze across his shoulder in the process.

“Shit,” you breathed, dragging him behind a stack of crates. “You’re bleeding.”

He hissed. “Could’ve warned me about the welcoming party.”

“I didn’t know,They were early. They never come early.”

He reached for his comm, but you grabbed his wrist.

“They’ll trace the signal.”

Joaquin looked at you. “Then what’s the move?”

You swallowed. “We run. No trace. I know a place.”

Two days later, holed up in a safehouse in the desert, you finally spoke again.

“I think they know I’ve been sparing the targets.”

Joaquin winced as you cleaned the bandage. “Then it’s time to stop running.”

You shook your head. “They’ll go after everyone.”

“Not if we strike first.”

You froze. “What?”

“You’re not alone in this anymore,” he said. “Let me in. Let SHIELD in. We can dismantle them. With your intel.”

“I can’t promise everyone makes it out.”

“I’m not asking for a promise,” he said. “I’m asking for a chance.”

You exhaled. “Okay.”

He looked up. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Let’s burn it all down.”

The takedown was ugly.

Fast.

Clean.

Brutal.

You watched from a rooftop as the last of your handlers were led away in cuffs. Joaquin stood beside you, wings out, blood on his cheek.

“You did it,” he said.

We did it, you wanted to say. But the words tangled in your throat.

Instead, you whispered, “I don’t know what to do now.”

Joaquin looked at you. “Start over. Live.”

You gave him a watery smile. “I don’t know how.”

He stepped closer. “Then stay close. I’ll show you.”

You looked at him.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself hope.

ONE MONTH LATER

You stood on the rooftop of your new place, coffee in hand. No guns. No orders. Just sunrise.

Joaquin landed beside you.

“Still awake?”

You smiled. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He leaned on the rail. “Thinking about them?”

“No,” you said. “For once… I’m not thinking about anyone except me.”

He smiled. “And?”

“It feels terrifying.”

He chuckled. “That’s how you know you’re alive.”

You glanced at him. “You stayed. Even after everything.”

“I told you,” he said. “You’re not alone.”

You looked away, cheeks warm. “I know.”

He reached for your hand.

You let him take it.

[jj-one]

lmao you answer all the asks in one go and ur page is asks for a quick minute

okay here something: cuz minho loves getting ppl wet (woah at the concerts.. right..) he has the idea of a water fight with you back at home but he has to cut it short after your clothes got too wet, maybe a little see through. long story short water guns we’re left on the yard and you ended up back in bed (it hasn’t even been a full day iykwim)

also yes sub skz yes yes yes we must be interlinked nb rlly writes abt sub anymore.

-🐇

help- no fr 😭😭 this idea is so ??? omg stop i loved writing this, i hope u like it bun :3

it started off as just a normal afternoon, an innocent game between you two. the sun is out, scorching hot like always. the plastic squeak of water guns in your grip. minho’s playfully smirking as he quickly ducks behind a patio chair, only to pop back up and blast you point-blank in the chest. you yelp, drenched, your soaked tank top clinging to your skin.

he laughs in victory, all cocky and breathless. “that’s what you get for cheating.”

but the minute minho’s gaze fixates on you— especially your body, his smile falters.

your nipples are right there, barely concealed by the white tank top that’s now completely see through and transparent, your pale bra peeking out like an open invitation. droplets of water cascade down your chest in glistening trails, and minho suddenly stops reloading his water gun altogether.

his jaw clenched. “we’re done,” he says, voice deeper.

you blink in confusion. “huh? i was winning—”

he drops the water gun, leaving it on the grass.

in three strides, he’s in front of you, gripping your wrist and pulling you towards the sliding glass door. “may i remind you that you’re the reason we’re even in this predicament right now?”

“wha—”

but you don’t get the chance to tease him back.

he slams the door shut behind you both, the cool a/c hitting your wet skin, and then you’re abruptly being pushed up against it. his mouth crashes into yours, hungry, impatient. his hands grab at your damp tank top, yanking it up until it’s hiked up all the way past your chest.

“no bra next time,” he growls, pulling down one cup with his teeth before taking your nipple into his mouth, his tongue warm and wet. a gasp escapes your throat, body arching into him.

“i didn’t know you’d get this distracted,” you pant.

he lets out a laugh against your skin, but it’s dark, dripping with lust. “you really don’t, do you?”

one hand slides down between your thighs, slipping under your drenched shorts, your soaked panties. his fingers find you embarrassingly wet, and not from the water gun. he groans, forehead dropping to your collarbone.

“fuck, baby… you’re soaked everywhere.”

a moan’s caught in your throat as he sinks to his knees, undoing your zipper and pulling your shorts down, spreading your legs right there in the entryway. the cool door against your back, his warm mouth between your thighs.

“this what you wanted?” he murmurs, tongue teasing your clit. “parade around like that until i snap?”

you barely manage a whimper.

minho doesn’t wait for an answer. he devours you like it’s the middle of july and you’re the only thing that can quench his thirst.

when you finally come undone, thighs trembling, his smug voice breaks the silence,

“we’re playing that game again tomorrow. but this time?” he licks your arousal off his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“you’ll be naked.”

[mottysith]

hai sigma :333

* explodes into multiple cats*

May i order chance x Male or Gn Reader plz

Hope this isn’t out of ur comfort zone but if u could make reader “Tsudere” (🥀) then that would be great :33

Tank chuu!!! ^^

Pairing: Pre-Forsaken! Chance x Male! Tsundere!reader

Warnings: May be OOC, other than that Nothing, reader is a little mean.

This was extrangely very fun to write LMAO

The first time the both of you met wasn't the most pleasant one. It was a slow day at the casino, most of the funniest regulars weren't on sight and Chance was extremely bored, flicking a coin multiple times to try and make time go faster.

He did that until a certain someone catched their eye. A strangely well dressed guy with an annoyed face thats seemed to never get off. The way his face retorted with disgust everytime someone got a little too close to him and how he seemed uninterested in almost everything inside his parent's Casino, a place full of distractions. In their eyes, the guy was certainly someone interesting.

But of course old ways never go to waste, he flicked their coin before making a decision, heads to approach you and tails to let you go.

Flip, 'tails'

...

Chance just stared at the coin, completely ignoring what it showed and flipping it multiple times again.

Flip 'tails

Flip 'tails'

...

Flip

Chance was feeling a little impatient, the result of the coin flip being inside his palm, they slowly opened them to show what was the result of the coin.

...

'Tails'

Well, even if the chance is absolutely not on their side he is going to approach the guy who catched their attention. And just a little bit of danger isn't going to put him down of a certain challenge.

Full of confidence Chance approaced the boy, thinking of a thousand pick-up lines to tell him about.

"Hey there handsome-" "Fuck off" The guy he tried to talk to cut them off in a mean way, Chance got a little surprised by that, since they usually aren't received like that.

Before he could try to keep up a conversation the guy left, leaving them spechless.

Chance probably got your name by an external source, may it be a friend of yours or the internet. Since you were clearly unwilling to share it to him.

And probably that's how he got your number too, texting you drunk some stupid cheesy text that your answered in two ways: with slurs and blocking.

The way the two of you finally managed to somewhat bond was that Chance never stopped bothering you everytime you went to his parent's Casino, buying you drinks that for some reason you decided to accept with an annoyed face.

Also, they flirted with you a lot, the alcohol in their system making him a lot more confident to try and talk to you.

"You must be really good at playing cards, because you just played your way inside my heart"

"Really?" The guy answered uninterested while drinking the second free drink he got that night.

Eventually you gave them the time of the day, since you somewhat found him amusing and entertaining unlike everyone else you know, and differently to the girls you manage to easily score Chance is something different, more... riskier.

As time passed your reaction towards him started to slowly differ, how your eyes brighten up everytime you saw his face. How your cheeks blushed slightly everytime they joked around you. The way you slowly began to search for him even though you didn't had a reason to.

Of course you were at first very conflicted with yourself mentally, after all, you slowly let him creep inside your heart. Their kissy faces towards you making you stay awake until late hours of the night, thinking about him.

Oh fuck, you actually like them. The realization hit you like a truck, and Chance luckily noticed that too.

You didn't wait long for a real confession from him, since they declared to you, and for some reason, you accepted it. With some snarky comment on the side

Though at first the only one who gave gifts was Chance, with time somehow you were the one who gave him a lot of stuff, trinkets you found that reminded you of your partner during work, or more pricey things that somehow you didn't mind to spend your hard-earned money just to gift it to Chance. Of course you will never admit you put thought on the gift you give them, telling him to just take it and not ask questions.

Even though you try not to show weakness for him, Chance can see through everytime now, unlike the first time the two of you met.

"Don't worry, my heart will always belong to you handsome" Chance flirted to you in a romantic way, his smooth talking actually managing to pierce your heart, like if a cupid's arrows.

"Shut up" You mumbled, looking the other direction to hide how your face slightly blushed, Chance could only smirk at that.

Note: The reader ended up being more mean that tsundere? It still is pretty similar.

[demie90s]

What about one with Jackie x teammate reader and reader is a crashout who is down bad for Jackie and will rock anyone’s shit who messes with her so when they play the fever either Sophie or Caitlin start getting smart mouthed and way too physical so reader steps in and DOES rock one of their shit in the name of standing up for Jackie. I saw your post about smut too so maybe it leads into smut or something, idk

Let Me Show You

Jackie Young x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: You’re a crashout, a hothead, and the undisputed enforcer on the team—and you’re head over heels for Jackie.

Word Count: ~ 1k

Genre: WNBA chaos, protective love, locker room comedy

Warnings: Violence, foul language, ejection from game, reader got hands and no filter

Everybody on the team know I love Jackie. Quiet, sweet, lowkey Jackie. Real low maintenance but never one to let somebody talk crazy to her.

I respect that. But there’s a difference between standing up for yourself and needing someone to go full crash dummy on your behalf.

That’s me. I’m someone.

I been telling them. From preseason to now, I been saying it. Jackie get hit wrong, Jackie get pushed, Jackie even look remotely uncomfortable, I’m coming off the bench like I ain’t got a contract. Like my mom ain’t watching. Like I didn’t just get off probation. No morals.

So when we play the Fever and Caitlin Clark start talking slick under her breath—everybody hear it but ain’t nobody doing nothing. Jackie just ignore her. Like she always do. Good for her.

Maybe that work for some people. But it damn sure ain’t work for me. It itch at me. I’m already pacing.

First quarter. Caitlin come off a screen and elbows Jackie a little too hard. Jackie stumble. She get up, fix her headband, adjust her shorts. Calm. Like always.

I’m off the bench. Bothered.

Coach tap my wrist and mutter something but I ain’t listening. I just nod cause I already know what I’m bout to do. Ain’t even a play. I go in the game and I don’t blink. I’m not even guarding Caitlin, but I walk right over during the free throw and bump her shoulder hard enough to make her stumble.

She turn around, all attitude. But she don’t say nothing. Cause she know.

Second quarter. Jackie go up for a layup and Caitlin clip her wrist and shove her midair. Jackie hit the floor. And yeah the ref call it, but my hearing turn off. It’s like I can only see Jackie’s body on that hardwood, and I’m walking before I know I’m moving.

I don’t run. I don’t need to. I walk. Slow. Like I’m in a 2010 music video. Wind blowing. Jacket flowing. Real dramatic. Real ready.

Caitlin barely get the chance to open her mouth before I rock her shit. One hit. Clean. Her ponytail swung. She spun like a cartoon character and hit the ground loud. Refs start blowing whistles like they tryna summon someone.

Jackie’s voice come through all soft and shocked, “Y/N…”

I hear it but I’m just looking down at Caitlin like she lucky I stopped at one. Like the cameras not rolling. Like I ain’t got a whole family who been praying for me to stop reacting like this. Knowing they made me like this for a reason.

Ref don’t even say nothing. Just point. I nod. Cool. I walk off like it was a light workout.

Fever crowd booing. Social media gon’ cry. Her little army of Clarkette fans gon’ write novels in the comments.

I don’t give a fuck. You touch Jackie again and I’ma knock your ass into ya next game.

Back in the locker room. Cool air hitting my arms. I’m in my compression shorts eating lemon pepper wings out a foil wrap, watching old “IAmZoie” and “PatDLucky” vids on my phone like I didn’t just cause a scene. Laughing hard as hell too. Got tears in my eyes.

“Broooo, you remember this one,” I say, showing my screen to whoever walk in. “The one where he made, ‘Drop yo shit’ That shit had me in tears the first time.”

Nobody saying shit about what happened. Not yet.

Jackie finally come sit by me. Her knee got ice on it. Her voice still gentle when she lean close and whisper, “You know you didn’t have to do that, right?”

“I didn’t have to,” I say. “I wanted to.”I look over slow, chewing. She shake her head, trying not to smile, but I catch it.

“Don’t be cute now,” I tell her. “I already got ejected. Might as well go all in.”

Jackie press her lips together like she holding in a laugh.

I smirk, eyes back on my phone. Caitlin still somewhere in the building room with an ice pack and a bruised ego. Fans still crying online. The league probably calling my agent.

Meanwhile. I’m eating good. Jackie’s beside me. My hands still hurt a little. I’d do it all again. No regrets. Clark not untouchable.

———————————————————————————————

Lowkey ain’t know how to even start the smut. For once. Here was the plan: After the game. Bus ride to the Aces Training Facility. The team breaks off and goes home or something like that. After a few hours I go to her place to apologize. Like show up in the middle of the night. I lowkey think she an undercover freak. Like shy asl on camera and in person. But get her alone and I bet she’ll out freak you. Anyways…

———————————————————————————————

Jackie stay ten minutes away. Top floor apartment, clean little spot. She don’t answer when I knock, but I see the light under the door. So I knock again—gentler.

Finally, it creaks open. She’s in a big t-shirt. Hair down. Eyes low.

“You good?” she asks, rubbing her wrist like she been tossing and turning.

“I shouldn’t’ve done all that today,” I mutter. “But I’d do it again. And I just… I didn’t wanna leave it like that.”

She nods. Bites her lip.

“I know,” she whispers. “I didn’t think you would… but when you did—when I hit the floor and looked up, and you were already walking toward her—” I take a step forward.

I freeze. My chest tightens. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Jackie says quietly, shaking her head. “You did it without hesitation. Like you already decided what I was worth to you.”

I don’t know what to say. But she steps back, holding the door open.

“You wanna come in?”

I don’t speak. I just walk past her, slow, brushing against her shoulder on purpose. She closes the door behind me, locks it. That click is loud in the quiet.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai

[try-again-bissh]

'Imagine Being Loved by Me"

Smoke x Annie x OC Sinners Fic

Modern AU 25+

For the grown and sexy only. I have been reading fic for forever and never written any but the Sinners brainrot and this insane heat wave that is hitting NY have finally gotten me! I have no idea how long this is going to be but I keep getting told to 'just write it bitch' so I am.

Happy Pride! Everyone is a little bit fruity in this one as a treat, if you don't like it I truly don't wanna hear it. I am Very Black, and Very Queer and I love black women so yall know what yall signed up for. I think that's all for now.

Warning: It's gonna be slutty. Threesome. The usual suspect supporting characters. Elias 'Stack' Moore, Pearline, Sammie Moore, That White Girl, Grace Chow, Bo Chow, Cornbread (his name is Corey now), Therese.

Word count: 2075

Enjoy!

Day 6 of 16

Cassie wakes up overheated but rested. She blinks her eyes open slowly squinting into the morning light. Her eyes flutter shut again, and she takes a deep breath. Shea butter, sweat, bergamot and sandalwood fill her nostrils and she sighs softly. It’s nice. There’s a weight on her shoulder and warmth along her side but she's too comfortable to open her eyes and look. The weight moves slightly and Cassie takes a moment to take stock of her body in the space between slumber and being awake. Her lips are raw, and sting slightly like she'd been licking them all night. Around her mouth, jaw  and neck are tacky, possibly from sweat. There are tender sore spots on her neck and chest. The blanket is chafing a tender spot on her breast, right next to her nipple. Cassie wonders what the hell that is. Mosquito bit maybe? She thinks distantly. She doesn't sleep naked for a reason maybe she left a window open.  The further into her body she thinks the more she is lifted toward alertness. 

Her pussy. Cassie’s eyes flutter open and she takes final stock. Her thighs are throbbing with a dull ache as is her lower back and her pussy is pulsing. Her thighs are tacky like she came multiple times and didnt get a chance to clean up, tender spots on the inside of both her thighs and even further down by her knees. 

Her first fully awake thought is “I got fucking ran through last night didnt I?” 

She blinks heavily into the light and can hear what sounds like plates clinking outside the door. Cassie looks down and is met with a sight she can only imagine would greet one on their first morning in Heaven. Annie was asleep on her shoulder. Her gorgeous full lips pouted in sleep, the artful braids from last night mused from more than sleep given the condition Cassie’s body is in. They are both naked, the covers slipping off Annie’s front revealing where her full breasts are slumped to one side of her chest. Cassie feels her jaw drop at the sight and also as last night comes flooding back to her. 

They fucked the shit outta her last night. Or she fucked the shit outta them? Everyone got the shit fucked outta them last night! 

It was definitely all three of them that stumbled back here after leaving Stack to close up the club. She can dimly remember pressing kisses to someone’s neck in the back seat of an Uber while her hand was rubbing and squeezing between someone else’s legs.  Cassie looked to her other side and noticed the sheets were left mused, she looked towards the door and could hear water running or maybe a pan sizzling. She breathe a slight sigh of relief, she really didnt need to fuck someone’s wife without permission…again. 

Her slightly panicked shuffling had woken Annie up, who moaned and rolled further into her. Annie’s leg that was thrown across Cassie's hips tightened and her eyes blinked open. Cassie held her breath as Annie looked up at her face. 

God her eyes. Absolute killer, she would never leave the bed if she saw this every morning. 

Annie’s eyes were slightly glazed and foggy but she smiled softly and leaned up to peck Cassie on the lips before rolling out of the bed and stumbling to her feet unconcerned with her nakedness. Cassie laid frozen as she watched Annie groan and fumble along the back of the door, seeming with her eyes closed till she grabbed a robe, much too long and big to be hers and put it on, then stumbled into the bathroom with it hanging open around her. The sound of the door shutting behind her jolted Cassie out of her daze, and she scooted to the edge of the bed clutching the sheet to her chest she began to look for her clothes. Shuffling through the clothes on the ground most of them seemed to be Smoke’s and Annie’s. How the fuck did they get her totally outta her clothes before even getting to the bedroom?!

Cassie stumbled over one of Smoke’s shoes as she shuffled to the other side of the bed to look for her clothes. In the bathroom the sink ran and she heard footsteps headed towards the bedroom from the hall. Cassie froze as both doors opened. 

Smoke stood in the doorway, steaming mug in one hand, navy blue durag tie tightly on his head, in a stretched out white wife beater and grey sweat shorts. Looking over him another memory of last night filters into Cassie's brain. 

She had pressed him between the front door and her body, Annie crowding drunkenly behind her as held his jaw and kissed him hard and wet. She remembers Annie’s hands fumbling the buttons of his shirt open in the minimal space between her and Smoke’s chest. Once his shirt was open Annie ran her hands up his undershirt and over his chest pausing to pinch and pull his nipples. The sensation caused his hips to grind into Cassie pressing the large bulge of him into her. She grunted and broke the kiss. Reaching down she hauled his wife beater out of his pants and too impatient and probably drunk to wait for him to pull his layers off,  she ducked her entire head under it to get her mouth on his chest. Smoke swore breathlessly reaching out; he pulled his shirt up to his armpits and held it out of her way as she sucked on his pecs and pressed her teeth into him and left bruises behind.

That's why it looks like that. Cassie gaze dragged along the many very visible hickeys and teeth marks on his exposed chest and up his neck. She prayed they weren't all her doing. 

In the other doorway Annie was shuffling sleepily out of the bathroom, too big and too long robe tied around her waist as she yawned. She blinked her eyes open and took in Cassie form, clutching their bed sheet like it would save her and then looked to Smoke who was already holding out the mug in Annie's direction. 

“Mm Lijah” she murmured, voice lower and rougher from sleep. She shuffled forward and took the mug from him, walking directly into his embrace she curled one arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder as her other hand brought the cup to her face. 

“Mornin’ baby.” He replied voice low and tone so soft, bursting with so much love. He curled around her, hands rubbing firmly up and down her back. It almost hurts to look at them. 

Cassie must have made a noise because Smoke’s gaze was drawn up to her and he blinked his heavy brown eyes at her and said “Mornin’ Cassie” in that same soft tone. 

Cassie cleared throat and said “Uh yeah good morning.” She pushed her locs back from her face and fiddled with the end of one. She usually was much more chill the morning after her hookups. But they were usually with one person and she was usually dressed and headed out the door by the time her partner of the night woke up. She wiped a hand over the corners of her mouth and her eyes hoping she wasn't covered in dry drool and eye boogers.

She felt wrong footed.

Looking at Annie and Smoke now, they both showed signs of the night before, Smoke’s eyes were small and red like he barely slept and even with Annie as bundled as she was Cassie could see hickeys on her neck (once large one on the nape of her neck lord)  and her hair looked like someone had fisted it repeatedly last night. Somehow they looked perfect, and Cassie was scared she probably looked like something someone dug up. Ran through. 

“There’s coffee, didn't know how you took it but there’s cream, sugar and all that. Breakfast is almost done, I was just coming to wake yall.” Smoke said he was slowly rocking Annie back and forth in his arms as she took random small sips of coffee with her eyes still closed.

“Her Highness isn't much of a morning person so don't expect much chattin from ha till she feels more human.” 

Annie reached down with the hand around his waist and swatted him on the ass, making him chuckle and smile sweetly down at her. She peered her eyes open and they shared a small kiss that left them both smiling. 

“You'll stay for breakfast wont ya Cassie?” Annie asked, her rich voice sweet and sticky. Both her and Smoke peered at Cassie, brown eyes big and hopeful. She doesn't understand how a man taller than her and a woman almost her height would both look at her from beneath their lashes but they were. And it was working alright. 

“Yeah, I could definitely eat. Uh thank you.” She stuttered out awkwardly. “Smoke, do you know um where my clothes ended up, they aren't in here?” Cassie gestured to the floor where his and Annie’s were still scattered. 

“Yeah, they in the dryer. We knocked over a vase last night and it seemed like you got the worst of it.” He released Annie and walked over to a tall mahogany dresser, opening the second drawer he pulled out a white t-shirt, then he opened the top drawer and pulled out something plaid. 

Walking back to Cassie, he stepped right into her space, taller than her for the first time since they met as she was barefoot and still trying to hide behind the sheet wrapped around her. “Trade you?” He gestured at the sheet, his eyebrow cocked yet he was smiling sweetly at her. Still hopeful. 

“Haha” Cassie said sarcastically, “The sun is out and the lord is watching, so no” She reached out to take the clothes from him with one hand, the other clutching tight to the sheets like she didn't trust them to hold to her body while his eyes were roving over her. 

He didn't let go of them when she pulled and she bumped into that wide, board ass chest of his. Smoke looked down at her heavily amused. “No trade then, but it still don't come free.” 

Cassie scoffed but didn't step back, the height difference between them was minimal but it did mean that she was right up in his face as he leaned ever so slightly down to peer at her. 

“Iight, what do you want?” she replied, trying to steady her voice and herself. He smelt good, she realized the bergamot and sandalwood smell was him, his breath smelt of coffee, he was warm and so solid along her front. The sun pouring in through the bay windows in the bedroom were doing absolute wonders for his skin. Fucking beautiful. 

“You kiss ha yet Ann?” He called over his shoulder, and Cassie's head snapped to gaze at Annie. She looked much more alert as she cradled her coffee and watched them with her head tilted to the side. 

“Yep, first thing this morning, I aint no fool.” She said, her eyes pinning Cassie in place. 

“That’s my price then, I would like some suga before my breakfast.” He titled his chin in Cassie’s direction, his other hand slowly snaking around her waist and bringing her in tighter against his body.

Cassie’s gaze darted back and forth between the two of them, both watching her expectantly. Annie's gaze warm and lazy, Smoke’s more eager and hot his eyes flitted between her own and her lips before making home there. 

“i haven't brushed my teeth yet, your suga will have to wait.” Cassie muttered softly. Smoke chuckled, squeezed her waist, he leaned down and for a moment  Cassie thought he would ignore her warning, she closed her eyes and waited for his lips to land. 

They did, warm and a little wet on her cheek and released her. “I'm good at waitin’” he said as he stepped back and headed for the door. 

“You can have first shower, towels, wash rags and everything in the linen closet in dere. Toothbrushes is under the sink.” Annie said, winking and following Smoke out of the bedroom. 

Alone in their bedroom Cassie took a moment to plop back on to the bed and wonder just what in the fuck she had gotten herself into.

Pls let me know what yall thought! <3

Title is from a Hozier song cause I am nothing if not a lesbian.

[cheschesterpossum]

Here's the "lil' something something" I've been working on for your Creators In the Flesh AU! The fic ran away from me. It was only supposed to be a drabble, but then I got carried away. And now it's, like, an entire one-shot.

(Also, I've elected to call myself the Perchance Anon, bc it's funny.)

Also, just wanna put a few warnings here for yandere behaviors, drugging/kidnapping, slight blood, some of the lore-related liberties I took when writing this which I can explain later, and what is probably going to be some ooc-ness on SG! Rung's part. I haven't written for him before. So, yeah...

You enter the unkempt project lab slowly, as the scientist responsible for checking in on, and maintaining the dimension you'd had a hand in creating. Stepping through the interdimensional groundbridge, and setting to work bringing the diagnostic systems back to life. You note immediately that a strange layer of dust blankets the keyboard you type on, whilst you work and it irritates you that nobody cleaned this up while you were away. Shouldn't somebody have been here to clean all of this? Surely Rung would've seen to that, at least. He was always so thorough when it came to dusting, cleaning, and well, whatever task you gave him so he wouldn't bother you whilst you did your job. When you were around, at least. You'd heard from the others that he wasn't always that cooperative when you took a sick day.

You pause to light a cigarette before continuing, and thus fail to notice the quiet pattering of a single set of pedes trailing into the groundbridge emitter's room. A few minutes later, your diagnostic tests finish, and you take the datapad containing the report with you when you trudge back into the groundbridge emitter's room. Almost completely ignoring the fact that you are no longer alone in favor of completing your final task for the day. But. As to be expected, because it could never be Easy coming here. The groundbridge closes mere moments before you could cross back through it. As though somebody was waiting to pull the plug on you.

Setting aside your report, you roll up your sleeves in preparation for what you'd have to go through to get home this time. You sigh loudly once you've opened the hastily tampered with maintenance panel, and witnessed the chaos that somebody had wreaked upon the machine's interior. It certainly could be worse, though, couldn't it. After a few minutes of tinkering with the old machinery, you stand up, and attempt to reestablish the connection. Nothing. Huh. Guess it's gonna take a minute or two. Suddenly, the door closes and locks behind you as familiar footsteps creep closer to your position. Rung? Of course. He must've tampered with the emitter to buy himself some time with you.

You try to turn around to face your needy creation so you can buy yourself some time whilst the groundbridge emitter does its job, but Rung wraps an arm around your neck before you can even move. He wraps his right arm around your waist, and pulls you close. Nuzzling his faceplate snugly into the side of your neck in the process. Rung ventilates deeply, and shudders quietly for a minute or two. The quiet sounds of living and non-living technology fills the silence between you. The mech curls himself around you tightly like he hadn't seen you in centuries, and had scarcely believed you to be alive. A strange sort of desperation, to be sure, considering that you'd only been gone for a month at most.

You shift uncomfortably in Rung's grasp for a few minutes, and issue his release command once you'd had enough of his clinging. Taking the chance to shuffle out of his grasp when the purple bear trap pries itself open for you automatically. Rung's optics narrow slightly at your casual use of a command once he composes himself. Had thought that you'd grown past ordering him about like a dog, but alas.

You cough awkwardly when you make eye contact with him again, and back away further when he tries to bridge the gap between you. "Sorry. I didn't want to do that, you know. But breaking company machinery called for a higher reprimand than the scolding from HR you'd have received if you'd only just invaded my personal space. You're lucky I knew how to fix the groundbridge emitter, by the way Rung."

Your reprimand softens slightly into a mild complaint, because you aren't paid enough to hold something this minor against him. Not to mention, he'd even left the removed parts inside the maintenance panel. Like he wanted you to find them, and put them back. A lazy attempt to endear himself to you, probably.

"Now, if you don't mind, I've got to get this datapad report back to HQ. Seems like I'm the only Project: Primus member they trusted to complete the task. Orrrr at least the only one that hadn't left to take on a separate project shortly after their first attempt. If the scientist running the diagnostic tests didn't disappear outright during the process." You carefully pivot 90 degrees to simultaneously address the groundbridge terminal, and keep an eye on your possessive creation post explanation. But find, to your dismay, that the emitter hasn't even begun to bridge the gap between dimensions yet. "Huh? Why hasn't it reopened yet? Everything is back in place in the emitter, it should be working by now." You turn fully to run a diagnostic test on the machine, and to reopen the maintenance panel just in case there was something you missed in your initial repairs.

Ignoring Rung once more in favor of efficiency, to his growing agitation. A minute passes, and then two before Rung growls, and grabs you again. Wrenching you away from the control panel, and telepathically shutting the machine down again with the connection he'd established to the ancient machinery occupying the Dimensional Control Center decacycles ago.

"Woah, Rung. What's gotten into-"

He pivots you around swiftly to hug your smaller frame to himself properly, and to plant your face into his neck cabling. He presses his faceplate into your hair afterwards, and then begins to stroke the back of your head in an attempt to self-soothe. You still smell of cigarettes, machinery, and sweat when he ventilates to draw in your scent once more. How is your scent still the same as when you were actively checking in with your team on Project:Primus all those vorns ago?

How long had it been since you've been gone?

Years? Centuries? No. It was much longer than that. He was sure of it. No matter. He simply won't lose you again. Never ever again… Not now that he's finally gotten you back.

"Perhaps. ...hah... Perhaps, the reason it won't reopen for you, my Dear. Is because it was never meant to. I'd been waiting for you to return for Such a Long time, after all. All of us have. Even the machinery you'd used before longed to feel your gentle touch again." He shudders again before picking up where he'd left off. "And you know how lonely I-We get. When you aren't around to monitor our progress. To witness how far we'd come under your careful supervision." He shifts his servo onto the back of your neck after his little speech, and jabs his transformed pointer digit into the side of it once he'd identified a proper injection site.

Injecting you with a sedative, and installing a tracker in you, all at the same time. In case you get any ideas once you woke up in your new home.

You feel the sting of his claw piercing the side of your neck, and you begin to thrash wildly in his iron grasp. He hesitantly releases you once he's certain of the trackers installation. Smugly satisfied at your panic, but not angry enough with you to properly enjoy it. Not now that he knows you hadn't meant to leave him behind.

You press your hand to the minor wound, and look back at your creation incredulously before you stagger over to a nearby med-station. Surely there must be some kind of omni-antivenom in here…? Right? But upon further investigation, you only find the odd bottle of ointment and a few gauze rolls in the dusty old med station. You push yourself away from it in frustration, and turn to face Rung head on. Shaken, but undeterred. "Alright. -Just. What did you dose me with? … Rung. Look at me. What. Did You. Dose me with?"

He doesn't respond this time, but the bitter longing in his optics speaks volumes. It couldn't have been poison, then. There's no way he'd get rid of you with how obsessive he'd been since his creation day. The mech watches you stagger away from the med-station with a predatory interest. Head turning to center you in his crimson gaze as you set about restarting the groundbridge emitter again.

Not that he'd let you escape, of course, but all you're doing is wasting time before that sedative kicks in fully. Truthfully, he'd broken the machine in a far more complicated manner than you had initially realized when you "fixed" it earlier. Just enough to prevent a real connection with your prior dimension, but not so much that it wouldn't even power on. It would such a shame if you were to look deep enough to find the real root of the problem now wouldn't it?

Rung stalks closer to you like a hungry wolf as you silently try to figure out why the machine isn't working. Drawing ever closer as you type away desperately at the diagnostic panel, akin to a rabbit clawing desperately at the walls looking for an escape route.

Luckily however, this wolf isn't looking for an easy meal. Just the permanent return of a beloved companion. His arms stretch out towards where you lean against the groundbridge emitter's maintenance panel, poised to catch you once you fall, with twitching claws primed to dig in and never let go.

You try to haul yourself upright again when your knees buckle under the weight of the sedative, but your grip falters too. Leaving you to slump into Rung's arms as the two of you collapse to the ground. Your world swims in and out of focus as you fight to stay awake, and Rung carefully brushes your hair out of your face. He stares into your eyes for a moment, temporarily lost for words. But you speak up with the last of your strength to ask one simple question: "Why?"

His optics widen in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe you had the nerve to ask him that. But he composes himself again, looks away, and then he answers you. "It seems that time runs differently between our two dimensions, Dear. What felt like little more than a month to you in your previous dimension, was millions of years in ours. We waited ever-so-patiently for you to return, you know. But your usual arrival time came and went repeatedly. And beyond your coworkers appearing less, and less frequently, your primes and I feared the worst."

When he looks back to see you asleep, he huffs in frustration before lifting you into a princess carry. The doors between the two of you and your new home open easily at his command. And seal shut behind you. Locking firmly in place. They'd never open again if Rung had it his way. And he's finally ensured that he would from now on.

With you by his side.

-Perchance Anon

*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

I HAVE BEEN BLESSED?!!!!! I HAVE BEEN TRANSFERRED TO HEAVEN???!!!

LORD I CAN'T PUT INTO WORD ON HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. THIS IS MAGNIFICENT, THIS IS WHAT I NEEDED ALL ALONG

I CAN DIE HAPPY NOWWWWWWW

[starrydreamerluna]

Huntrix was formed on a survival show-

-to test the trainees compatibility with rumi and the rest of the public. To see who had the spark to become a demon hunter.

Zoey(14) auditions with a sunlight sisters song she wrote an extended part for so she could rap, because Bobby sent it in for her wanting her to at least try to pursue music.

Mira(16) gets scouted at a dance meet where no one knows who she is so she ends up hiding herself as mira and dying her hair black so no one recognises her on the show.

Rumi(15) was a shoe in obviously, but she'd not guaranteed for the final lineup if the honmoon doesn't resonate with her enough (she can use it still though because the sunlight sisters are still technically active and rumi inherited her mothers claim to use it)

There's a few weeks of the usual training and covering songs before Celine starts being able to whittle down her shortlist and starts encouraging the girls to push themselves to connect with the music theyre performing and think how the audience will connect with it.

Zoey rumi and mira get put together by chance and outperform the other teams in a Sunlight sisters themed challenge/mission where the girls really made the songs their own. Mira choreographs new parts including an improved dancebreak, rumi opts up in her high notes and adlibs but also guides her teammates on harmonies and zoey kills it with her best rap yet.

When it gets down to the final 10 girls one of them gets injured in a practice room and has to pull out after she's found by rumi and Celine, leaving 3 teams of three girls. Celine therefore decides to pull out the final challenge- she wants each team to work with eschother and as much staff as they need to produce a demo debut. What do they want their debut to sound like, what foot are they putting forward? How are they gonna present themselves to their fans?

The ones who resonate the strongest with the honmoon will win their debut. They have 6 weeks. (During which the actual episodes start airing.)

There's a bit of angst and hurt going between the teams and their members, zoey is panicking about her heritage and ability because people are calling her western and her schoolmates are watching her. Mira realises people are starting to figure out who she is, and rumi knows that a demon attacked the trainee that got hurt, trying to prevent the hunters coming together.

before Celine can know for sure who her apprentices may be demons break into rumi, mira and zoeys practice session and they find out about it all because rumi has to defend them. When she gets pinned in comes mira with a steal chair and 14 year old zoey uses her cheerleading experience to kick a few demons back.

Unfortunately they do steal something: zoeys notebook which fucking devastates her. Rumi promises its okay.

Zoey in all her childish dumbassery decides to sneak out that night to go get her notebook back, partly her own drive, partly a tempt by gwi-ma to get her killed once he found out it had a lot of confessions of her anxiety throughout the show.

Mira was on her way back after being confronted by her parents about everything when zoey left. She's so angry at them she decided to cut off contact because she felt so at home in the dorms.

Both of them accidentally unknowingly tear the honmoon and its rumi to the rescue, until yknow. The girls summon their weapons for the first time. They start writing the song then and there, zoey inspired by the sounds of the honmoon for a baseline, mira channeling her want to beat shit up into choreography and rumi's awkward sassy ass coming up with the hook while insulting demons.

Zoey calls in Bobby for support because he's her legal guardian while she's in Korea and he starts helping manage their tasks and they get the demo done with enough time to go on a few more hunts to get the notebook back because Bobby let's it slip how important they are to zoey.

Celine isn't happy with them when she finds them after biting off more than they can chew.

She is incredibly impressed two days later when they perform their song at the live finale and the honmoon soars in recognition of its new guardians.

[caffeineaddictedturtle]

Is this what you call self-care?

idol!Felix × afab!Reader genre: fluff, slice of life, established relationship warning(s): usage of curse words, no beta we die like man an: i explain it here

It was a regular Saturday for you, waking up at 6 AM and feeling your boyfriend's arm around you. After you turn your alarm off, you turn to look at him, smiling. His long, blond hair fell into his angelic face. It is so hard to not say fuck it and stay in bed with Felix, but you—with the smallest of movements to not wake him—get out of bed, making your way to the bathroom to get ready. After you get yourself into some comfy stay-at-home-and-study clothes, you brew yourself a cup of coffee with some coconut milk.

You've been researching for your midterm paper for a while now. It wasn't the worst topic, but selecting what's important and what isn't is where you were hopeless.

After restarting it for the hundredth time, you heard movements from your bedroom. You peeked out of the study/gaming room to see Felix's tired face, which filled your heart with warmth. "Good morning, love. How did you sleep?" He looked back at you while he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "I slept well until some gremlin left from next to me way too early this morning." A smile crept up his face, reaching out for your hand so he could pull you in for a hug. He kept you close with one hand, resting his face on your head while you hid in the crook of his neck. His sweet scent filling your nose. "How's your university work going?" you scrunch your face, not even wanting to think about the research and writing your essay. "Well, I read a lot, but I do not know where to begin or what things are the necessities to put into my paper." You felt yourself wanting to throw a tantrum like the 5-year-old who you are at heart. He kissed your forehead, then put his pinky out. "Okay, I have a trade offer; once you're halfway done, we can play on our farm together." Your eyes lit up. You've been pretty hooked on Stardew Valley for a while now, especially since the new update, and you got Felix to play with you on his days off. Sadly, they've been pretty busy with their comeback, so you couldn't hang out as much. He usually got home by the time you were asleep, and you went to class or to the library to learn before he woke up, since it was soon time for your final exams. You only have one year back from your university, and you don't want setbacks, so it is important to get a good grade. Your parents would be pleased as well since you flew to another city to learn specifically there, so you want to make them proud. You link your pinkies together to form an unbreakable promise. "Okay, but no distractions! If you want to play, please play in the living room; we both know I won't ever finish my assignment with you distracting me." He chuckles and nods his head in agreement. You happily made yourself another cup of coffee, then went back to the study to work on your task. You still cannot believe it that you somehow snagged such a perfect man: he is supportive, understands your concerns, and can always accept your compromises. He openly talks to you about how he feels and bravely tells you if something bothers or concerns him. You honestly can't believe these past couple years have been real.

You've made a bit of progress; it helped that you talked with your old dorm roommates—you moved in with Felix about half a year now; you two realized that it would be the easiest since you went over any given chance anyways. They gave some good suggestions. Once you caught up with each other, you four said your goodbyes, since all of you have a lot of work to get done by the end of this month. After some time, you smelled a sweet scent coming from the kitchen. The door opened before you could sneak out to have a peek. Felix brought in your favorite cookies; it was a mixture of his classic chocolate chip and your oatmeal cookies recipe. You two perfected it while he got some time off, and you didn't have school just yet. His brown eyes looked at you proudly behind the plate of cookies with milk in his other hand. "How's your progress, baby?" He bent down to give you a peck on the lips. You waited until he put the plate and the cup down, then patted the ground next to you, signaling for him to sit down. He didn't waste any seconds, and plopped right next to you, happy that he could sit beside his girlfriend. Felix didn't want to make you feel pressured; he just wants to spend as much time as possible with you before he has to go back to endless dance practice, content creation, etcetera. You both know he loves doing what he does, but it can get overwhelming sometimes. They got cussed out a lot for the smallest of things, getting bullied and going as far as getting death treats. He was grateful for being able to work his dream job, and he is also happy that you understand what this kind of life comes with.

Felix watched you type your thoughts out in your document and started to play with your hair, which made you relax instantly. You couldn't help but melt into his touch. You leaned onto his shoulder, feeling exhausted. "I am almost done with half of my assignment; I just need another page, but I feel like my brain cells are giving up on me." He chuckled, placing a kiss on your head. "You got this; I believe in you." He started giving kisses all around your face, which soothed your tired thoughts. Felix eventually kissed your lips; the kiss was sweet and made you feel like you're under the sun at the beginning of the spring. You reciprocated immediately, feeling as though time had stopped—no tasks, no school, no pressure—just you and him tangled together in a complete state of Nirvana. Before it could get heated, Lixie pulled away, holding you firmly, so he kept up his strenght to not distract you further. "Is it okay if I play Zelda while I lay in your lap?" You saw a hint of pink on his face, making you smile. "Well, I am close to finishing it, so why not? I don't think it can cause any harm." Felix got up excitedly to get his switch with his headphones. He laid down and got comfortable, then started playing his game. He has been quite into it lately. The game was beautiful, and there were a lot of things to do. The excitement in him got you into playing it, asking for his help in some harder situations.

When you got done with half of your paper, you looked down and saw a sleeping Felix with a gaming console on the ground next to him. He looked so peaceful like this: his pink lips parted, his eyelashes casting shadows on his face, and his freckles painting constellations onto his features. You can't help but start connecting the dots on his face with your fingers, making his eyes flutter as he awakens. "What are you doing, gorgeous?" You lean down to kiss him as a response. You feel like you're going to explode with all the feelings inside your chest. "I am done with half of my paper; I didn't want to wake you, sorry." You pout just a little, earning a smile as he reaches for your face to caress it. "That's my good girl. Are you ready for some farming time?" You nod, knowing that you're going to end up either playing until the sun gets up again or none at all and will end up cuddling in bed.

You two made some lunch and plopped down besides each other. Your desks have been set against one another, his PC taking up one desk while yours is cluttered by notes and books for your university courses; you just keep pushing it back each time you take your laptop out instead of organizing it. Felix tried to reason with you or help with that mess, but that's how you were, looking unorganized yet knowing exactly what is where, always on point. That's what your grades always reflect: perfect or almost perfect scores, even though you procrastinate until the last minute. He smiled to himself, knowing how he and the boys wished they had this superpower.

You put on your two's favorite chill playlist and booted up the game. We made a lot of progress, stopping to occasionally show physical affection for each other or taking a quick bathroom or snack break. I didn't even notice how the time flied until you looked down on your watch, seeing that it had passed five a.m. "Yongbok, we have a problem. Have you checked the time?" He has been so into the game that he almost looked up into the corner to see the in-game time, realizing that this might become a problem in the future. "Oh shit, I didn't notice when it got this late. I mean, I am going to be okay; I won't work for a couple of days now, but when do you need to send this assignment in?" he asked, knowing damn well that you have a habit of sending in your tasks with one minute left on the clock, giving him a scare. One time, Chan got to see your study progress and felt his soul leave his body. He still remembers how he and Han watched how their leader scolded you about your academics and your attitude towards your learning, painting a picture of an overworked father lecturing his rebellious daughter, who—no matter what she's doing—will always be his treasure. It never got said out loud, but you became the younger sister of the group, with all the older members looking out for your happiness and safety. And Felix isn't sure that if you two ever break up—which, let's face it, is highly unlikely—he wouldn't get the shorter stick and wouldn't get scolded.

Once you two saved and logged off for the day, got ready for bed, you snuggled close to each other leaving sweet kisses on one another, fighting the strong urge to sleep. When he heard your breathing change, he knew that you were fast asleep, what he waited for all along. It makes him happy and calm, knowing you are asleep. He pressed a light kiss on your forehead.

"Good night, my love," and with that, he dozed off to sleep as well.

masterlist ║request something

[antoimne]

do you do darker content?

if so can i request the hunters witnessing their survivor lover after a match all beaten up and bloody?

Part one- 🩸How would hunters react seeing their s/o bloody and injured after a match?

🪨 Fool’s gold x !injured reader

🌪️ Nightwatch x !injured reader

🥀 The ripper x !injured reader

Yes yes! I’m thinking of doing this for all hunters, so I’ll probably divide it in multiple parts. Here’s the first one to apologize for taking time to respond :,) Hope this isn’t too far off what you were thinking! I’ll try to write for the others soon!

Tw: mentions of blood and injures (obv)

Matches had been particularly intense for you that day—hunters seemed rougher than usual, their attacks filled with something almost personal. At first, you weren’t sure why. But then it clicked.

Ever since you and your lover had begun your relationship, things had slowly began to change. Almost imperceptibly at first—but now? Now it was undeniable. The rumors had spread. The manor was small, and secrets couldn’t stay buried for long.

You’d both agreed to keep things low profile. You knew how cruel the other hunters could be. It was as if the manor was leeching what little humanity remained from them, leaving only hollow, destructive shells of what they once were.

You were nearly finished decoding the final machine, heart fluttering at the thought of your warm room—and your lover’s embrace—when you felt something, rather someone looming behind you.

You didn’t even get the chance to turn.

All you felt was a sudden wave of pain rushing through your body, blinding and immediate as your vision grew blank.

🪨 Fool’s Gold

Fool’s knew you. Knew your stubbornness, your skill, and—most of all—your loyalty. You always came back, like you promised every time before a match. So when you didn’t walk out the gate with your teammates, a cold churn stirred in his gut. Something was wrong.

He went to look for you himself, crossing the gate where the latest game had just taken place. It didn’t take long before he found you crumpled near a bush—bloody, bruised, your clothes torn and your head soaked in a thick layer of red.

“Y/n. Fuck.”

He dropped to his knees, scooping you into his arms. Sure, his limbs were jagged—stone and flesh fused unnaturally—but it couldn’t hurt more than what had already been done to you.

“Tell me who the hell did this to you. Now.”

Your head ached intensely. You blinked slowly, disoriented. “I... I don’t know. I didn’t see—”

His arms tightened around you. His furious eyes scanned the treeline, as if to identify an immediate threat before softening as they fell back to your face.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out later,” he whispered. “I’ll find the bastard that did this to you and pickaxe their bones as if to strike the finest mineral.”

The threat came out like a promise of love.

Because for him, that’s what it was.

You were the only precious thing he had left. In a life full of violence, grief, and regret—you were gold. His true treasure.

“Why are you always so reckless?” he rasped. “You’re supposed to survive—for me. Remember what you promised?”

You barely lifted your hand to cup his jaw. “I’m faithful to my word, you know that. I’m still here.”

His breath hitched, voice raw. “No more close calls, baby. I don’t intend to let you go.”

🌪️ Nightwatch

Ithaqua had long since given up on trusting others. Living beings were cruel. Humans, especially, were the worst of them all—corrupted creatures hiding behind normal faces.

Even among the other hunters, he stood apart. Wary. Resented. He was a monster, just like the other killers- but at least they all knew what they were. The survivors were just as dirty—only better at pretending. Hiding.

When you first got close to him, it was during a blizzard. The manor had been sealed off, snow piling at the doors. You’d somehow managed to walk out into the woods that day, ignoring every warning the other survivors gave you.

The air in the manor had grown heavy. You needed space.

And there, in the freezing milky void, you’d found him.

Ithaqua had been born in the cold. It was all he knew, all he was. When he saw you—lost in the same way he was, no sense of belonging—something happened. He felt intrigued.

He never said much directly , still wary of you, but something in him softened. Small gestures. Simple genuine tenderness in his acts. His way to show care.

So when he saw you crawling near the gate, clothes torn, a puddle of blood peeking through your shirt—something twisted in his chest.

Panic. Memories. The echo of his most painful childhood terror: loss.

Without a word, he swept you into his arms, cradling you against the fur of his coat.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, tucking your trembling form beneath his jacket to shield you from the rising wind.

He walked, slow and steady, back toward the manor. Back to safety.

His fingers brushed a wound on your forehead.

“Why did it have to be you?” he whispered, voice tinged with a vulnerability you’d never heard before. “Why like this?”

“I’m sorry, Itha,” you mumbled, lips trembling slightly, both from the cold and genuine fear for what you’d just been through.

“Stay awake. Stay with me,” he repeated almost like a mantra. You could feel his breath quick and ragged under his mask.

“You must stay with me. I assure you, chewing my heart and spitting it out would be a lot easier than losing you. I mean it”. 🥀The ripper

You managed to make it back to the manor—somehow, unexpectedly.

The moment Jack saw you stumble through the gates, bruised and disheveled, trying one last effort to drag yourself toward your room, his blood ran cold.

His tall frame moved towards you, hands reaching out carefully as if you were made of glass- like you might shatter at the slightest touch.

“Darling, you’re hurt.”

He stated the obvious as you looked up at him, eyes heavy and tired.

“No, I’m good... it just looks worse than it is. Really.”

Jack pulled a cloth from his pocket—his usual cavalry—and gently dabbed some blood dripping down your temple.

“Don’t lie. I told you to be careful. Why didn’t you listen?”

There was no bitterness in his voice—only guilt, and maybe something darker lurking beneath.

“Next time, do anything—decode, hide—but don’t put yourself in danger. Don’t make me risk losing you for people not worth it.”

You looked down silently, almost like a kid punished for some sort of mischief.

“Who did this to you?” he pressed suddenly, eyes piercing through yours.

You couldn’t answer. Not because you didn’t want to, but because the chaos of the chase had practically erased the assailant’s face from your memory.

Jack didn’t care. He didn’t need answers. He already knew everything he needed to know. Or at least- he’d have made sure to find out.

He simply nodded, guiding you to sit in his room so he could tend to your wounds. Gentle, careful, almost worshipping in the care he used with you.

Don’t worry, though—next time, you’ll notice a thicker layer of fog creeping around the manor, an edge of silence hanging heavier than before. And sure as hell he could bet, there’ll be one less soul to count, one less person to feed the insatiable bloodthirst of the manor.

————————-

By the way if you imagine Jack as Tuberose it’s better tbh

Dayum

[golb-sleahcim]

I <3 misconceptions and misteps in alien x reader fics.

Likkkeeee aliens who's courting rituals happen to be wayyy too similar to how you would treat your friends.

It wouldn't help if either your the only human on the ship somehow and everyone else is to freaked out to correct you one your behavior.

(would also work if it's the only one of its species among a mostly human team, but for the sake of my personal interest It's gonna be the first thing (will totally write that later though, probably))

You're just trying to make friends among your new crew and they're all like, always mildly flustered or confused. You don't have time to do research because you're always too busy either dealing with the people you work with or your actual job.

Eventually when you make yourself a friend on the ship!! You're estatic!!!

You try to be as friendly and as loving as possible to your new friend because you don't wanna mess up, esspecially seeing how every other being on the ship seems to avoid you as much as possible.

You get them little gifts, and you have little sleepovers, and sometimes you let them pet you... you don't know why they do that, but it's okay!!!! They seem super happy when you let them!!!!!!

At some point they do start getting upset when you try to make friends outside of them. He's been acting a bit weird, or at least weirder than usual.

Your alien companion feels the need to constantly rub against you. They make sure to do it subtly as if they're trying to hide it somehow.

At your usual sleepovers he always insists the two of you cuddle as close as possible. He makes you where his comfort clothes that end up drowning you his scent. They're also not made for your anatomy so the clothing looks a bit silly...

Your extraterrestrial crew members mildly start avoiding you more than usual when he's around, much to your annoyance.... but whatever.

When you FINALLY get the chance to sit down and look up this species and they're behavioral patterns (you brought your favorite creature along just incase you have questions) it all seems normal. Like. They seem overly formal, but whatever. If they're comfy it's fine you guess.

And then you stumble apon mating rituals.

your best friend does anything to stop you. Anything short of straight up ripping the device from your hands. All while he's doing what you've somehow deciphered as his species' abnormal form of blushing. (You figured it out by watching all the times you've accidentally flustered oh so many of your crewmates.)

After wrestling your device away from him and hiding safely just out of his reach. You lay your eyes apon what the issue has been all along.

pebbling, scenting, nesting.... and so so many things that you just do normally. Just as little friendly gestures. And you're shocked. Embarrassed even.

Have you accidentally been whoring yourself around this whole time by complete accident????

Even worse, you've realized you've likely been leading on your closest companion for years now!!!!

You apologize profusely!!!! You feel terrible!!!!!!

Your best friend assures you that it's okay he understands that you weren't doing anything on purpose. You can keep doing what makes you comfortable with him... just don't do that with anyone else! You wouldn't want them getting the wrong idea from you.

A few months after this incident you kinda got everything figured out. And you still get to do all your normal comfort stuff with your home boy and people stopped acting so off around you. Win-win!

It is kinda strange that they keep refering to your favorite person as your 'mate'. Probably just a misconception. He usually just tells you not to worry about it, so you don't.

Little did you know he's totally been feeding into those things. He thought you would've realized he's been discretely flirting with you during the research fiasco stuff, but nope. You didnt even realize how desperatly into you he is! And yeah, he knows it's awful of him to keep letting this go on even though he knows you don't mean anything by it. But what he and everyone else sees as a full on relationship can't exactly hurt you if you're kept in the dark about it.

[charliedawn]

HAND RITUAL

Eddie X Fem!Curly/Wavy-haired Reader

Synopsis: Eddie is your boyfriend and you noticed that he seems to love his rings—to the point of having a whole ritual to remove them. You therefore decided to have a ritual of your own to accompany his. Eddie is more than happy to help. (This made me cry. Angst. Mention of character death.)

The first time you noticed that Eddie had a hand ritual was the first time you stayed in his trailer for the night. It was cold outside and Eddie had insisted you stay here since the rain would make it impossible to cycle back home with zero visibility.

He knew what he was talking about. From experience. It hurt.

Therefore, your final decision had been to stay and hope that by tomorrow the sky would clear up. Unfortunately, the only bed available was his—since his uncle usually closed the door to his room before going to work. So you had the chance to see the full extent of that sacred ritual that was to remove his rings and wrist bands to go to sleep.

He always started by the little finger. Easiest. A black stone. A shiny one. It often slipped off from his finger on its own and you then both had to search for it every single time. But you knew it was important to him.

Then he moved on to the ring finger. He usually had two on that one. A skull and a simple silver ring. The silver ring seemed a little too tight. Perhaps a mistake or a treasured souvenir.

On his middle he had this sort of weird-shaped owl. It was heavier than the rest. You could almost feel his relief when it was finally removed. But he had also told you that it was his coolest ring. Very old. The guy who he had bought it from said that it was an antic—from some old tribe in the South.

Finally, on his index finger, he had a cross. There were four skulls around that cross. You weren’t sure if Eddie was religious. Probably not. But he still removed it last and his eyes counted each skull—as if one of them might grow skeletal limbs and run away.

The other hand was his writing hand so he had less rings there. But he did have chains around his wrist that he took off and placed down gently. Then there was the watch that he skilfully detached and laid down next to the chains and the rings.

In a second time of that ritual, he flexed and unflexed his fingers before massaging his wrists. It must be tiring to carry all that metal in a day—but he still did it. You were wordlessly impressed. You then saw him go to the shower and waited patiently. But your eyes kept moving to the rings. You wanted to feel them in your hand—weigh them, rub your thumb over each bump and nick. Instead, you removed your clips and scrunchies to lay them next to his precious items. Your items were less heavy—sure—but just as important.

When he got out of the shower…he stopped dead in his tracks. He had never seen you with your hair down before. Curls. A lot of curls. Even more than him…which was something. He smiled and approached you slowly. He then put his hands on your waist and kissed the back of your shoulder. “Ma’am. Your boyfriend is one lucky man.”

You laughed and leaned back against him. “I know. But I would like to rectify that we were both blessed with each other.”

He smiled against your skin and wrapped his arms around your middle. “Yeah? Eddie Munson? A blessing? Shit. Who could have known?”

He laughed softly in that self-deprecating way that you wanted to kiss away. He rubbed his thumbs over your hips.

“Well…I did.” You looked back at him and grinned. “And not to blow my own horn but that’s why I know I got the best guy around. Because he’s kissing my shoulder and smiling at me like I hung the stars in the night sky.”

He tilted his head a little, pressing another kiss just beneath your ear. His smile stayed, but it softened—melted, really. Like he didn’t know what to do with the warmth you just handed him.

“…Shit,” he murmured again, breath catching in a quiet laugh. “Say stuff like that and I’m gonna start thinking I deserve it.”

You reached up to touch his hand where it was still curled around your waist. “That’s the whole point, Eddie. You do.” You glanced back at him. “You deserve all of it.”

He looked at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. He leaned his forehead against yours. “You know, I’ve had nights like this in my head. But usually the version of me in those dreams screws something up or wakes up alone.”

“Then lucky for you,” you whispered, nose brushing his, “I’m real. And I’m staying.”

He exhaled, sharp and soft all at once, like a held breath finally being released.

After a quiet beat, he chuckled low in his throat, eyes flicking to the bed. “So, uh…how do you feel about sharing the mattress with a guy who hogs blankets and might accidentally knee you in his sleep?”

You smiled. “I’ve had worse roommates. At least you’re cute.”

He dramatically clutched his heart. “Ma’am, you flatter me.”

You chuckled. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

He grinned and led you gently towards the bed, pulling back the covers with a little flourish. “Well then. Allow me to offer you the five-star Munson sleeping experience. One lumpy mattress, zero working springs, and a personal heater that snores.”

You laughed and slipped in, curls fanning over the pillow. “As long as the heater wraps around me like this every night…” you trailed off as he curled in behind you, pulling the covers up over you both, arms encircling your waist again, “…I’m not complaining.”

“Deal,” he whispered into the back of your neck. Outside, the rain kept falling. Inside, Eddie held you like you were a prayer he never thought he’d be brave enough to say out loud.

…

A week later

The mall smelled like hot pretzels and too much perfume, and Eddie had already tried on three different pairs of sunglasses “just for the bit”—none of which he intended to buy. He’d been making exaggerated runway walks up and down the aisles of whatever store you were in, doing spins and posing like a model every time you held something up and asked, “What do you think?”

And the best part? He wasn’t pretending to have fun. He was having fun.

You watched him now, squinting at a price tag like it held the secrets of the universe. His rings clinking every time he ran his fingers through the racks. His hair was a little frizzy from the humidity outside, and he kept bumping into mannequins and apologizing to them.

You smiled to yourself.

Because somehow, you’d ended up with a boyfriend who actually liked going shopping with you. Who didn’t groan or slump into a seat the second you walked into a boutique. Who didn’t rush you. Who gave honest opinions like, “I like the green one. Moss colour-coded.” And who, right now, was holding up a fluffy cardigan and dramatically gasping like it was the last sweater on Earth.

“Oh my god,” he said, looking at you wide-eyed. “Touch this. No, seriously. Feel this. This is like…baby llama soft.”

You reached out, fingers brushing the sleeve. “Wow. You’re right.”

Eddie wasn’t the type you’d expect to enjoy clothes shopping—but here he was two minutes later, dramatically holding up a ridiculously glittery crop top, eyebrows raised, like he was hosting his own fashion show in the middle of the store.

“Now this,” he said, twirling the hanger with flair, “this says: I have confidence, I have sparkle, and I might be a backup dancer for David Bowie.”

You snorted. “Put that down before someone thinks you’re serious.”

“Oh, I am serious,” he said, deadpan, before cracking into that wide grin that always pulled something loose in your chest. “But okay, okay, for real—what do you think of this one?”

He turned, holding up a soft oversized cardigan in a color he knew you liked. It was the exact shade you’d paused at earlier, trailing your fingers over the fabric before moving on. You hadn’t even said anything—but he’d noticed.

Your smile came slowly, warmly. Not at the sweater. Not even at how it would probably look great on you. But at him. At the boy with wild curls and sharp edges who walked around the store like it was a stage, who made you laugh so easily, who remembered the color you liked without you having to say a word.

“You’re smiling,” he said, narrowing his eyes in faux suspicion. “What did I do? Do I have a tag stuck to me again?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m just…happy. I feel lucky, that’s all.”

He blinked. “Lucky? Because I know what alpaca wool feels like and what colour you like best? Isn’t that like boyfriend rule 101?”

You stepped closer, taking the cardigan from his hand and brushing your fingers against his in the process. “No. To have a boyfriend who actually likes going shopping with me. Who has opinions. Who makes it fun.” You glanced up at him, smile softening. “You don’t just come along. You show up. That means a lot.”

He blinked before rubbing the back of his neck. You could see a hint of pink on his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

“Well, yeah,” he said after a moment—as if it was obvious, lips quirking up. “Why wouldn’t I? I get to walk around with you, see you try on cute stuff, make you laugh…and then maybe hold your hand the whole time. It’s honestly a win-win-win situation for me.”

Your expression shifted into something quiet and tender as you saw the look of pure adoration in his eyes as he stood there with heart-shaped eyes.

“I like being with you,” he quickly added, shrugging as if that was obvious. “Doesn’t really matter where. Trailer. Clothes store. Hell dimension. Whatever. As long as I’m with you, I’m good.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes fondly. “You’re such a sap.”

“Yeah but…I am a sap exclusively for you,” he declared proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders and kissing the side of your head right there in the aisle. “Now, let’s go try on this cardigan. And then maybe I’ll make you try the Bowie crop top. For science.”

You shook your head, laughing again as you walked toward the fitting rooms—but your smile lingered.

Because yeah. You were lucky.

…

The door clicked shut behind you, and your house fell into that quiet that only comes after a full day spent laughing, walking, and stealing kisses in too-bright changing room mirrors. The shopping bags were dropped by the door, shoes kicked off lazily, and Eddie immediately stretched like a cat in his shirt that had ridden up just slightly over his stomach.

“God, my feet hurt,” he groaned, flopping back on the bed dramatically, arms flung wide like a rockstar collapsing after the final encore.

You smiled as you slipped off your jacket and tossed it onto the chair. “You kept dragging me into stores. This is your fault.”

“Excuse me for having incredible taste and wanting to see my girl in everything that caught my eye,” he humphed with a grin, winking at you. “Also, you did buy many of the things I pointed out. That should count for something.”

“It does.” You crossed over to him and crawled up onto the bed, hovering over his sprawled form. “But now I wanna do something.”

He looked up at you, brow raised. “Oh yeah? Should I be worried?”

“No.” You reached for his left hand, fingers brushing his knuckles. “I just want to do your little ritual. The ring thing.”

That got his attention. His eyes softened instantly.

“Y’wanna take ‘em off for me?” he asked, a little surprised. Maybe even a little flustered. “That’s sacred territory, sweetheart.”

You smirked and kissed his palm. “Exactly. That’s why you gonna show me. I want to do it right.”

And so you started—just like he always did.

You began with the pinky. The black stone ring, the slippery one that always went missing. You took it slow, twisting it gently before pulling it off and placing it on the nightstand.

“This one always runs away,” you murmured, setting it down carefully.

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Slippery little bastard.”

Then the ring finger. The skull first—cool and familiar. Then the tight silver one, the one that always left a faint indent. You took your time with that one, watching the way his jaw clenched slightly as it slid free. You placed them next to the first.

His middle finger was next. The owl. Heavy, with an odd shape that caught your thumb as you worked it off. He let out a breath as it came loose, and you smiled.

“Still think this one might be cursed,” you commented with a small smile.

“Probably is,” he murmured. “I’m still gonna wear it though.”

Finally, his index. The cross ring. Four skulls. As you removed it, you saw him counting them silently in his head, just like always.

You whispered, “One…two…three…four,” as you carefully slid it off and added it to the growing constellation of rings on the nightstand.

Then you turned to his other hand. He didn’t wear much there—just the chains around his wrist and the watch he never seemed to check the time on. You unfastened the chains one by one, then the watch, setting them down with the rest of his treasures.

After that, you wrapped your hands around both of his and gently massaged his wrists—just like he always did.

Eddie let out a soft breath. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Jesus H. Christ. You’re gonna make me fall in love with you all over again…”

You kissed the inside of his wrist. “Good. That was the plan.”

He looked at you and before you could even think about it, his lips were on yours.

A few moments later

You were now sitting cross-legged on the bed, back facing him, when you felt Eddie shift behind you. The mattress dipped gently under his weight, and then you saw his hands reach over your shoulders, fingers hovering just shy of your hair.

“I wanna do yours,” he told you as his finger stroked your hair lovingly. “Like how you did mine. I mean, not my hair—I mean, the clips. The scrunchies. Let me…let me take them out.”

You glanced back at him, a little surprised.

“Okay,” you finally agreed. “They’re yours to conquer.”

He chuckled quietly. “Oh, I’m gonna conquer the shit out of these clips.”

Carefully, his fingers moved up into your curls, grazing your scalp with the softest touch. He worked slowly, easing each clip out like it was a priceless artifact. You could hear the clink as he set them down one by one on the nightstand beside his rings, laying them just as carefully as you had.

“Am I doing okay?” he asked after the second clip, voice close to your ear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyes slipping shut. “Perfect.”

“Not pulling too hard?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Just—tell me if I do.”

He was so careful. Each scrunchie unwound with the caution of someone defusing a bomb, even though your hair was soft and cooperative beneath his hands. When the last one was out, your curls fell in full, loose waves/curls down your back, brushing over his wrists.

He then kissed the back of your neck gently, lips barely brushing your skin, and you shivered.

“Now,” he exclaimed, fingers sliding through your hair, “I’ve seen you do this braid thing before, right? You twist it up like magic? I kinda wanna try. Is that okay?”

You smiled, cheeks warm. “Go ahead. I’m all yours.”

That made him laugh under his breath, the sound vibrating through his chest as he scooted closer. His fingers weren’t precise, not yet—clumsy in the way of someone who’s learning—but they were gentle, loving, and you felt each moment of hesitation as he separated the strands.

“Wait. Is this…is this how it goes? Three pieces, right?”

“Mhm,” you said. “You’re doing great, baby.”

“You’re sure I’m not, like, yanking your scalp off?”

“I promise,” you laughed. “If you do, I’ll let out a dramatic scream.”

He chuckled and leaned down again to kiss your shoulder this time. “Thanks for trusting me with this.”

You smiled to yourself as his fingers fumbled and re-organized the strands again, you occasionally worried about him getting them tangled in his rings before remembering—right—he wasn’t wearing them.

“Does it have to be neat neat?” he muttered, halfway down.

“Nope. Just full of love.”

“Oh, I got loads of that,” he declared proudly. “More than I know what to do with.”

When he finally finished, he tied the end with one of your scrunchies, patting your braid like it was a masterpiece. “There. Beautiful girl with a crooked braid made by her idiot boyfriend.”

You turned, eyes shining. “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in, foreheads nearly touching.

“Yeah.” You reached out and pulled him into a soft kiss. “I think this is my new favorite part of bedtime.”

He grinned and flopped back onto the bed, arms open wide. “Then get over here, Miss Crooked Braid. Cuddle time.”

You almost jumped into his arms and you both laughed as he kissed you all over your face.

…

Later that night

You started with his pinky. You traced along it slowly, learning the shape of it like you were memorizing a constellation. A bump where a healed scar lived. A callous from his guitar strings. Soft skin at the knuckle where his rings usually sat.

Then came the ring finger—the one with the too-tight silver band, always just a little red when you took it off. You let your finger slide along the inside curve of it, committing the slight crookedness to memory.

His middle finger was longer, stronger. Rough from chords and strings and years of fists clenched in frustration. You held it gently, like a fragile thing, and ran your thumb down the back of it, bone to knuckle to fingertip.

Then the index—his favorite for tapping out rhythms on your thigh, for pointing at stars, for trailing absentmindedly across your shoulder when he was half-awake and dreamy.

And finally, his thumb. Shorter, thick, with a tiny cut near the nail that he hadn’t even noticed earlier that day. You brought it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to the side of it before laying it back down against the sheet.

You kept tracing. Over the lines of his palm, along the creases in his wrist. Every scar, every callous, every worn-in part of him you wanted to keep in your hands and in your mind forever.

Just in case, you thought. Just in case the lights go out one day and never come back. Just in case my eyes fail me. I’ll still know you. I’ll know these fingers like the path on a map I walked every day.

Eddie stirred a little beside you, making a quiet sound in his throat. His lashes fluttered but didn’t open, and his fingers curled softly, instinctively around yours.

But then, his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice thick and rough from sleep. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. “Just…learning you.”

He hummed and kissed your cheek. And then he was asleep again, breathing slow and steady. But you stayed awake just a little longer, fingers tracing the lifeline on his palm. A quiet breath escaped Eddie and you felt his hand curl slightly around yours, a subconscious comfort even in sleep.

As you nestled closer, your fingers still tracing, you whispered, “I’ll always find you.”

And somewhere in the depths of sleep, Eddie’s lips curved into a small, peaceful smile.

…One night, as you both lay tangled in the sheets, Eddie caught you mid-kiss on his knuckles. His eyes softened in the dim light, and he reached up to brush your hair back.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he murmured, voice thick with something like awe. “Holding my hand, kissing it…You sure you don’t wanna kiss my face instead?”

You looked up at him, cheeks flushed in the dim light. “I just want to make sure I always remember…you.”

He reached out and gently tucked a stray curl behind your ear, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary.

“Well, I’m not complaining. Feels kinda nice. Just…y’know I’ll stay forever with you, right? ‘Cause am gonna be honest here. I’d be pretty much lost without you now. Can’t even remember how I ever managed to function without you.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. Eddie pulled you closer, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he murmured,

“Guess I have no choice but to make sure you never wanna leave.”

And in that quiet night, your hands stayed entwined—a silent promise sealed between two hearts. Days turned into weeks, and those small, tender moments became a steady rhythm between you. Whether you were sitting together in silence or lying side by side after a long day, your fingers would instinctively find his. Eddie never minded.

One afternoon, you caught him watching you as you absentmindedly traced the familiar curves of his hand, your thumb gently rubbing over the small scar near his knuckle.

“Y’know…” he started, a little hesitant but honest, “I don’t say this enough, maybe because it feels kinda scary to say it out loud but…I love you.”

Your heart skipped, warmth flooding through you at the simple truth. You turned to face him, eyes meeting his in the faint glow of the street lamp outside the window.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your smile trembling with the weight of the moment.

A shy, genuine smile spread across his face, and he pulled you a little closer, forehead resting against yours. “Yeah. You do.”

It wasn’t cocky. It was simply the words of a man who was now fully convinced. He pressed his lips to yours and smiled.

“One day, baby…Am gonna get you a ring. And it won’t be one of those cheap ass rings I got. No. It will be pure gold, sweetheart. Pure gold. Because shit…you’re my treasure.”

You felt your heart swell at his heartfelt words.

“Pure gold,” you repeated softly, your fingers tightening around his hand. “I’d wear it every day.”

Eddie grinned, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Hell yeah, you will. And I’ll be damn proud to see it on you. Gonna put it right…” He kissed your ring finger. “…here.”

You felt tears come to your eyes—but he didn’t let them fall.

He kissed your mouth next, slow and sure, like he was sealing that promise deep inside both your hearts. In that quiet moment, all the noise and chaos of the world faded away. There was just you, him, and a future shimmering bright—like the gold ring he vowed to give you one day.

…Unfortunately, that day never came.

Eddie was accused of having killed a high schooler and even if you tried so hard to save him. You couldn’t. You looked down at the grave. You were standing beside Uncle Wayne and your eyes were glassy—empty.

Uncle Wayne then wordlessly took your hand. “…That boy loved you more than anything.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you squeezed his hand back. “…I know. He made me the luckiest woman in Hawkins.”

At night…you closed your eyes and the shape of his hands came back to you. Your hands missing the ring ritual, the slow exploration of hands you would never grow tired of touching, his breath against your neck as you fell asleep together. You covered your eyes and sobbed.

You didn’t think the tears would ever stop…knowing that your luck had come to an end.

“Oh Eddie…”

[rozemynelovebot]

Connection between duchy cape colors and the gods

Something I noticed about some of the most major-character duchies in AOAB is how I think you could argue that their cape colors correlate to the Supreme Gods and the Eternal Five respectively. The duchies that I consider to be the most frequently mentioned/closely involved in the story are Ehrenfest, Dunkelfelger, Alexandria (both on its own and also in holding the position of former Ahrensbach), Klassenberg, Drewanchel, and the Sovereignty. I think that the general outlook of these duchies or their major characters can be pretty easily tied to the god/goddess that their respective cape color correlates to, which I’ll explain further below-

—

The Sovereignty: Black

The divine color of the God of Darkness. Just as the God of Darkness is King of the Gods, the Zent rules the Sovereignty. The AOAB Wiki also has some potential etymology for Rozemyne’s name for the God of Darkness, Schicksantracht, to be translated as “unity/harmony,” which could tie in to how the Sovereignty, or at the very least the royal family that rules it, is meant to unify the duchies and bring harmony to Yurgenschmidt. Anastasius, member of the royal family and currently prince-consort to the Zent, also often likens his wife to the Goddess of Light, meaning that he by default falls into the role of the God of Darkness, and their romance is often compared to that of the Supreme Gods.

Drewanchel: Green

The divine color of Flutrane. Duchy of scholars, could tie into the “change” association with Flutrane as such an intelligent duchy continually seeks out new and changing research and ideas. Individual character mention in Adolphine, who boldly seeks to and accomplishes in changing her own marriage circumstances for the better.

Dunkelfelger: Blue

The divine color of Leidenschaft. Deeply in line with Dunkelfelger values and general temperament, a duchy of hot headed and battle-obsessed nobles who even receive more divine protections from Leidenschaft and his subordinates than any other. Pretty much any major Dunkelfelger character mentioned could be tied in here aside from Hannelore.

Ehrenfest: Ochre (Dark Yellow/Gold)

There are two angles to view the associations in Ehrenfest, tying it to the Goddess of Light’s divine color of Gold, and tying it to Schutzaria’s divine color of Yellow.

One of the main associations with the Goddess of Light is motherhood, and Ehrenfest has strong ties to both positive and negative examples of motherhood. The overarching plot of Veronica, Georgine, Sylvester, and Ferdinand is focused around the core conflict of an abusive mother and her victims. Veronica haunts the entire narrative of AOAB despite never really being physically present in any non-flashback scenes, and her misuse of her position of “mother” is what shaped many of the main characters and various plots throughout the series. Additionally, as AOAB is a very story very heavily focused on familial themes, Rozemyne also has close relationships with multiple mother-figures as she grows up both as a commoner and as a noble. Effa’s unconditional love for Myne is a large part of what shapes her into who she is, and Elvira’s love and motherly support once Rozemyne is baptized into noble society is essential to her, both socially and emotionally. The main printing industry in Ehrenfest is largely advanced thanks to Elvira’s “motherly love” for Rozemyne as well, meaning that even Ehrenfest’s economic, technological, and social advancements are founded on a mother’s affections for her daughter.

In terms of associations with Schutzaria in line with Ocher being considered a Dark Yellow, I looked for associations between Ehrenfest and Schutzaria’s association with protection. Ehrenfest’s archducal family is seemingly much closer than other duchies’ archducal families. Spearheaded by Rozemyne, who is forever hellbent on protecting what she holds dear, Ehrenfest can be considered a duchy that values protecting its own perhaps on a higher level than other duchies. For example, when Ferdinand is engaged into Ahrensbach, despite his own relatively weak political position, Sylvester tries his best to stand up to the Zent to protect him and is devastated when he is ultimately unable to. While other duchies seem to think that nobles, especially female nobles, marrying out of one’s home duchy for political power is a given, Ehrenfest tries to protect Rozemyne by keeping her in their own duchy through her initial engagement to Wilfred. They do originally intend to marry Charlotte into another duchy, but in what seems to be an unusual fashion asked of him by Rozemyne, Sylvester still tries to protect Charlotte by trying to give her as much freedom of choice in her partner as possible. Rozemyne protects Wilfried from the consequences of his trip to the Ivory Tower, and Charlotte from her kidnappers. Sylvester protects Myne when Bidewald attacks her. The first spells Rozemyne casts or is taught are all protective in nature as well. Overall, Ehrenfest’s nobles seem especially inclined to protect those close to or associated with them, just as Schutzaria is a goddess known for her shield and strong protective power.

Klassenberg: Red

The divine color of Geduldh. Color associated with warmth, compassion, and femininity. In P5V1, Rozemyne remarks that perhaps all Klassenberg women are kind and gentle like Eglantine, Hortensia, and Primevere, implying that at least the women of the duchy are in line with the divine association.

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The only one missing from the Supreme Gods or the Eternal Five is Ewigeliebe, with his divine color of White. The closest I could think of for a duchy with story relevance and a white cape was perhaps Jossbrenner with their cream capes, as there is no duchy represented by the color pure white, but as Jossbrenner was only brought up a few fleeting times (and regardless is not what I would describe as one of the “major character” duchies to begin with), I couldn’t think of any particular ties to Ewigeliebe.

Perhaps it could be theorized that, like how the shrines in the Royal Academy have one singular consolidated shrine for both Geduldh and Ewigeliebe, Klassenberg’s men could relate to Ewigeliebe in the same way that its women relate to Geduldh. I don’t have any concrete evidence for this though, so it’s just a silly idea to make up for Ewigeliebe not having a corresponding duchy of his own…

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Aside from the Supreme Gods and the Eternal Five, Alexandria could be tied to Mestionora (obviously), arguably the most important of the subordinate gods or goddesses in AOAB, so I’m including it as well-

Alexandria: Dark Blue

Ties to Mestionora’s hair color, though her divine color could possibly yellow instead due to her position as a Wind subordinate. Specific character reference is obviously Rozemyne, Aub and divine avatar of Mestionora, who constantly and gluttonously desires new written knowledge, as well as secondarily Ferdinand who continually seeks out greater knowledge through his research.