#the match made in hell (affectionate)

[mountainashfae]

tonight we are having a GREAT time thinking about the match made in hell and the silly attraction triangle going on in early Kingmaker where they think it's perfectly fine to be attracted to one member of the trio but being attracted to the other? gods no something is wrong there. Just a perfect triangle. What is wrong with them (affectionate).

[fatherflytrap]

does cain even LIKE judas? lol

i know i joke about how they wanna kill each other a lot but yes. they love each other. they're just a terrible match

[strategicjazzhands]

Match made in hell (affectionate)

[rosy-hollow]

Your boyfriend Nanami Kento and your younger brother are a match made in hell.

See, Kento thinks of himself as a calm man, able to keep his composure in most situations. Yet, when he's met with the piercing glare of your 10-year-old brother... he’s a little lost.

He’s a carbon copy of you, with your nose shape, eye color, and hair color—he even gets the same crinkle between his eyebrows whenever he’s disgruntled. Cute on you, but downright terrifying on your decade-old brother.

The poor blonde man clears his throat. "So uh—"

"You think you're good enough for her?"

"Wh—"

The boy scoffs. "You're not. Just so you know." He squints at him critically.

Nanami just blinks, dumbfounded. There’s some semblance of truth in your brother’s words—though you assure him otherwise, he knows you’re too good for him.

Nanami squats down to your brother’s eye level, brandishing a slip of paper.

A receipt, to your favorite store.

Your brother’s eyes widen in horror. "You didn’t."

Nanami nods. "I did."

The boy gapes at the paper, eyes widening in disbelief. You were infamous for your reckless spending habits—anyone who went on a shopping trip with you rarely came out unscathed.

Your brother stares back at your boyfriend one last time, blinking, before handing it back with a small nod of approval.

"Good luck. You’ll need it."

Nanami lets out an amused huff, patting the boy’s head affectionately.

"Thanks."

A/N: based off of my own younger brother who has decided that i'm not allowed to date for some reason 😭

[enhani-ki]

ENHYPEN AS YOUR "HOMEBOY"

warnings: very short, maybe a little suggestive :)

how they are as your homeboys...

HEESEUNG ─── ✦

your homeboy who's too naturally flirty. it happens all the time that you don't even catch it anymore—you thought you'd become numb or immune to it.

you're his food buddy. you always share bites and judge menus together.

sometimes you'll talk about something deep like fear of failure or what dreams even mean anymore—and he'll tell you how far you've come, or let's you know just how proud he is of you. sometimes you'll get shy and flustered, sometimes you'll roll your eyes, and sometimes, you just straight up cry.

"what?" he'd say, all wide-eyes and innocent. "what did i say?" "what the hell did i do?"

if it were anyone else, they'd fall for him every time.

JAY ─── ✦

your homeboy who shows you love through quiet actions. he surprises you with either little or big gifts like: a drink you mentioned once, a charm you saw at a stall, jewelry, or a designer t-shirt you've been dying to get. he doesn't need a 'thank you' and never ever made a big deal out of anything.

jay loves taking naps with you. he's also not loud but for sure gets that random energy burst. sometimes he starts yapping, your heads would bump together because he's moving so much.

truth is, he'll probably do and give you whatever you ask. jay loves seeing you happy and he loves it more when you're comfortable in life.

JAKE ─── ✦

your homeboy who treats you like you're one of his beloved dogs. he loves taking walks with you outside and he's always affectionate. he touches your back or waist, sometimes he gets protective without realizing it.

jake gets those bursts of cute aggression whenever he looks at you, randomly slapping your thighs (gently?) while laughing biting his lip or biting his tongue out.

like heeseung, he's also naturally flirty.

his eyes light up and he gets excited when you let him treat you or spoil you even a little.

SUNGHOON ─── ✦

your homeboy who always clock your tea. he always bickers with you and nagging like you've been married to him for 15 years.

he tries to be patient but will 100% call you out when you start acting dumb or when you don't take him seriously. still, he's the one who gets worried the most for you, always checking in on you.

karaoke nights. he shows you his exclusive tiktoks. whenever he goes shopping with you, sunghoon wants you to take everything you want and he just pay for it.

SUNOO ─── ✦

your homeboy who matches your energy so perfectly. you're both full of genuine love and compliments, it's like a competition on who loves who more.

you do skincare or make-up together. you both take each other on dates and post cute pictures with lovey-dovey captions.

with him, it's glittery, chaotic, and lowkey kind of romantic. he's your soulmate for real.

JUNGWON ─── ✦

your chillest homeboy. makes sure you're fed, makes sure you both went to the place you wanted to check out, he lets you pick where to eat, and like to puts a hand in your shoulder while walking together.

he always has the best reactions whenever he listens to your rants. jungwon knows all your gossip, even knows the life story of people he's never met.

always calm, unbothered, and quietly devoted to your comfort. people are always mistaking you for a couple though.

NI-KI ─── ✦

your clingiest homeboy but be on some nonchalant shit sometimes, it's annoying. dramatically calls you into his room for an 'emergency' only to ask you to turn off the light because he's too cozy to move.

he runs to you when the others tease him and back him into the corner. "can you tell them i'm right?" "back me up, please? just this once?" even though you always do.

you message each other every day. he always win at every games, makes fun of you, then feel bad after.

ni-ki loves his nap sessions with you, sometimes you even wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist.

fake trips and you have no idea why. he loves it because you spoil him all the time but when it's his turn to do the same for you? it's 1000/10, chef's kiss, he knows everything you want and he'll give it to you.

a/n: i hope i understood what platonic means TT

masterlist: マスターリストm.list

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about boyfriend!yoongi who in a way, found his match with you.

for decades, his oldest friends always teased him for being the textbook definition of ‘nonchalant’, labeling him as a stoic man who loved to pretend that he didn’t care about anything—even though in reality, there were always a few tells that made it obvious that he did.

he was the type of guy who made it seem like he didn’t care if you forgot about his birthday, but would send a joke afterwards saying that he was disappointed that you didn’t remember.

or the type who acted like it didn’t matter to him if the meal he worked hard on cooking tasted delicious for your taste buds, only to grin really wide as soon as you complimented him and uttered a string of praises afterwards.

it was an endearing quality of yoongi’s, a rather fascinating trait that also became the butt of the joke at times whenever the topic was his love life and his bad luck when it came to relationships.

“you can come off as emotionally unavailable,” hoseok told him over beer once. “ladies don’t like that. they want men who can tell them how special they are.”

“isn’t it enough that i show it?” yoongi asked, having just been dumped by the girl he was dating. “i mean, i drive her to work every single day. i fetch her from work whenever i can too. i buy her stuff if it’s necessary, like shampoo or paper towels.”

hoseok stared at him. “paper towels?”

“yeah.”

“wow. i take it all back. you are the most romantic man on the planet.”

yoongi rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. “she mentioned she was running out of them so i bought more for her.”

“are you her dad or something?”

“i heard ladies like a provider.”

“yes, but not in that sense. it’s more like… you get the bill whenever you’re having lunch or dinner at a restaurant, or buying her a bag she’s been eyeing, or paying for her nails when she gets them done. doing all of that without not being asked is the key aspect of it, really.”

“how do you know this stuff?”

hoseok shrugged. “i have an older sister,” he says. “also, i’m engaged to my girlfriend of 6 years. being in a relationship that long ought to teach you a lot.”

thanks to that conversation, yoongi began understanding what it really meant to be a great and affectionate boyfriend without sacrificing his rather reserved personality. he knew what the right gestures to do, what the right things to say, what the right gifts to buy—and he did all of that with utmost sincerity, genuinely wanting to be a better partner for his current girlfriend, which also happened to be you.

the funny thing, though?

you couldn’t seem to recognize the nice boyfriend things yoongi was doing and how much he improved compared to his last relationship.

you were just… independent, he thought. a strong woman who didn’t like to be coddled and didn’t like asking help from anyone regardless of how much you may be already struggling. he had a realization that you were naturally like this because of the stories you used to tell him that made him understand that you just weren’t used to relying on others, a trait that he didn’t have an issue with and sometimes even admired.

however, he couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t sometimes frustrating as well.

for example, just last week, the both of you had a semi-big fight because of how you constantly insisted on changing the broken lightbulb in your bedroom yourself even though yoongi was already telling you that he could do it instead. in the end, since you were stubborn as hell, you still tried changing it on your own but had a very minor injury due to falling off the stool you were standing on for extra height.

yoongi was furious when he found out, and you ultimately became furious because it seemed like he was being unfair to you, the negative energy impacting your mood and rationality that you didn’t get how he was more mad on the fact that you let your pride get to you than just asking for his damn help for the freaking lightbulb.

when the both of you calmed down and said your apologies, yoongi took your hands and looked directly in your eyes. “babe, you have to start depending on me,” he said.

the straightforwardness caught you off guard. “huh?”

“i mean…” you felt him squeeze your fingers softly, “i understand that you’re used to doing things all on your own… how you don’t like being treated like some baby… but that shouldn’t be the case with me, okay? i’m here to take care of you, to always help you with whatever you need.”

you opened your mouth, about to say something he knew was not going to align with his point, so he took the liberty to cut you off.

“i’m serious. you know what i’m talking about. let me take care of you, ____.”

“but—” you couldn’t continue with your sentence, a wave of emotions suddenly flooding you that made your throat tighten and voice quiver as you began speaking again— “how? i… i don’t—i just… you don’t need to. i don’t want to be a burden.”

yoongi gave you a look, a mixture of fondness and disbelief. “you? a burden?”

“yeah. you don’t need to take care of me.”

“i’m well aware that you’re a grown woman who doesn’t need taking care of.” he joked. “but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it. that’s why if i were you, i would just start depending on my poor boyfriend and learn how to be comfortable in being taken care of because it’s definitely how things are going to be now that he’s here.”

you snorted at the use of third person. “fine,” you sniffled, “okay, i’ll try to be better at asking for help next time.”

he sighed in relief, releasing your hands to instead engulf you in a tight embrace. “thank you, baby. i appreciate it a lot.”

****

the first time you willingly asked yoongi for a favor after that talk—regardless of how small and trivial it was—it still affected him big time.

“can you help me assemble the drawer i bought?” you asked him over dinner, ever so casual and nonchalant.

he almost dropped the chopsticks he was holding. “what?”

“i said, can you—”

“no, i heard that perfectly well. i’m just surprised at what i’m hearing.”

your lips twitched while your face visibly burned. “don’t start teasing me or else—”

“i’m not.” he laughed, a little too loudly than usual, before reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles. “i’m not, i swear. i’m just happy.”

“you’re happy because i’m asking for help?”

“i’m happy because you’re letting me take care of you,” he corrected. “it’s a bit overdue in my opinion but who am i to complain?”

you playfully shoved his hand away, which made yoongi laugh harder and lean towards you to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, letting you know that your simple effort of trying to let him in meant so much more than words could ever say.

note. this blurb is unedited and has been in my drafts since december because it's always yoongi missing hours!!!!! but for real though, i wish yoongi is doing great and is always surrounded by good people who can give him the support he needs + remind him how loved he is :(

[sharkbitten-sailor]

forsaken survivors x cat!reader - headcanons .ᐟ

a/n: not sure if i messed up anything due to lack of experience in writing. plus, english is not my native language, so im sorry for any grammar or spelling errors!

general hcs - you have all the charming features of a cat - a tail that sways when you're curious, ears that twitch at every little sound, and, of course, the softest paws imaginable! - oh, and you have some cat-like traits too. man, how are you so adaptable and flexible? you can literally slip through the thinnest corner ever or loop the killer without getting hit. not even once. - basically liquid at this point/hj - whether it’s scratching at walls or leaving marks on a killer who got too close, your claws are a force to be reckoned with. or simply you get bored :p - you have a favorite hiding spot and get grumpy when someone else takes it/ref - you rarely purr, mostly just hiss at everyone in sight lol unless they’re your absolute favorite.

noob - at first, noob don't quite know how to feel about you. they’re both fascinated by your unique traits and a little anxious, unsure of how to approach you. - it takes them time to warm up, but once they do, they find your presence incredibly soothing. probably because you remind them of their old pet cat, tac. - just having you around helps them feel less overwhelmed. - as a cat owner, they know a few tricks to help you relax: scratching your cheeks, rubbing your ears… but the only issue? they don’t have enough confidence to do it. - still, they did try to groom you once. you looked so peaceful that their face turned red like a berry. total flustered mess. - they have a habit of asking you the most unexpected things out of nowhere. “d-do you like b-boxy cola...?” “w-what about... salty food...?” - it’s their way of making conversation, even if it’s awkward at first. - one time, it was just the two of you left, and noob was completely overwhelmed by anxiety to the point that their figure trembled constantly. - without a word, you nudged them gently. that small act alone made their worries fade almost instantly. it melted their heart in a way they didn’t expect. - you see them as a premium napping spot. no words, no hesitation; you just stroll up, plop down next to them and sleep. - noob's honest reaction: OVERHEATING. brain blue-screening. - the argue to pat those small lil' ears of yours when you're sleeping ughhh >>>>

007n7 - he assumes you’ll steer clear once you learn about his past, just like everyone else. but you? you dgaf. the past is the past, and that’s that. - he’s caught off guard by that attitude of yours, almost unsure of how to react. - is this… genuine? the fact that you don’t just tolerate his presence; you actually seem to enjoy it leaves him a little stunned. and, maybe, a sense of happiness. - sometimes, 007n7 catches himself watching you, wondering how you can be so carefree in this ever-lasting hell. - secretly impresses by how fearless you look when looping the killer. you made it seem way too easy. - adores every moment when you try to mimic his clones. it makes him remember about the old time, in a good way. - after every match, you make it a habit to sit beside him during breaks. no hesitation, no awkwardness. just quiet companionship. - if elliot or others don't take care of his injuries, you do, calmly patching him up without a trace of discomfort. - he learns (the hard way) that you have a habit of affectionate arm-biting. whether he likes it or not, he’s your favorite target, and there’s no escaping it😇 - but hey, at least you do knead him sometimes :D especially his burger-hat. - he finds it both silly and calm to hear your soft purrs. something about them just sounds like honey: smooth, warm, comforting. - somehow, being around you helps. both in and outside the rounds. you've kind of become his metal life support at this point. - he asks if he can pat your ears, and you nod. the moment his hand touches them, he's stunned by how soft they are. a second later, realization hits. his face turns bright red as he quickly pulls away, completely flustered </3 - overall, 10/10.

shedletsky - a cat person meets a cat? what do you expect? chaos? check. instant best buddies? double check. - it takes no time at all for you two to bond. something about your energy just clicks with his. - he finds endless joy in teasing you, not caring if you hiss at him in response. in fact, he lives for it. - flicking your ears just to see your reaction/ref - he’s a menace who constantly pats your head just to get a reaction. always ends up with bite marks and scratches. - but does he stop? absolutely not. - your best revenge? stealing his precious fried chickens. he gets annoyed so bad. "you little gremlin- put that down!" - no matter how serious things get, one way or another, you and shedletsky always make it worse in the best way possible. - likes to stay close to you during rounds. either to guard you (cuz you're too curious and reckless for your own good) or to show off his sword skills. it's kinda awesome until he misses the stun. "oops, my bad. time to run!" - since there isn't enough room, when it's your turn to sleep on the couch or floor, he usually offers you his sleeping spot. (or, y'know… you just end up sleeping together :p) - gives off total 'one dares to think, one dares to try' duo energy. he cooks, you eat. you distract, he stuns. - actually enjoys when you knead on him. it's pretty soothing. - attempted to touch your paws once… and yeah, never again. the sacred toe beans remain off-limits. - little do you know, your presence alone is one of many thing that push him forward.

guest 1337 - dang. how hard is it to write for this guy bruh - when you first got kidnapped here, he was the most wary of you, more than anyone else. even when shedletsky took a quick liking to you. - can't blame him though. he've been through a freaking war himself. - might take quite long (like forever) to earn his trust. - it starts small: offering him a boxy cola (which he side-eyes but still drink) or a medkit, sticking around even when he insists he doesn’t need help. then, saving him more times than you can count by alerting him when the killer is near (thanks to your sharp senses), buying both of you some precious seconds to escape. - slowly, he starts seeing something, rather someone familiar in you, none other than his daughter - it's when your relationship with him takes another path. - he's already someone who puts others before himself, but with you, it's even 'worse'. you might have 9 lives, but he refuses to let you waste even one. - he tends to walk straight to you when the round has just started. something about the thought of you wandering alone doesn’t sit right with him. - he's ready to take the hits, insisting he's fine no matter how battered he gets. you have to threaten to bite him if he doesn't take a break. - doesn't make a difference if you have sharp senses of a cat, you are still a curious lil' goofball creature. guest 1337 has to pull you out of those mess you made + lecture you the n+1th time to not touch john doe's spikes or 1x1x1x1's minions. - he doesn’t trust you around his food. rightfully so. the number of times you've swiped a meal off his plate just to annoy him is unreal. - "unbelievable," he mutters while grabbing it back. - gives you a pat as a way of saying "good job," though it's not something he does often.

[prettyboykatsuki]

lace | (qin che)

♡ tags ; afab + fem!reader ( gendered language + perfomancne of femininity (hair, makeup and nails)), established relationship, reader is not explictly mc, lingerie, loverboy sylus, unprotected sex, praise kink, squirting, sex toys (a butt plug), a very affectionate kind of objectification, creampies, riding (sylus is doing the work tho), 18+

♡ wc; 3.2k (what da hell)

♡ a/n ; this was supposed to be a birthday fic but its mad late. if you're wondering what readers outfit looks like imagine this but its a darker red and she's wearing a little bow choker and her stockings have bows. ok

be nice abt my sylus characterization writing him is so nervewracking lmao

♡ synopsis ; sylus figured you would give yourself to him as a gift, but finds himself pleasantly surprised by how seriously you take that promise.

Arousal blooms in his chest, petals pulled open by your neatly manicured fingers, gently nudged open.

He'd been expecting the gift. He just didn't think it'd shake him so easily. Not that he isn't always charmed by you, but it's been a long enough time that he can handle you. Mostly.

His desire for you is something he can manage without feeling taken off guard.

It's rare he feels that way. Some of his confidence is feigned, but most of it is sincere. Sylus faithfully believes in both his ability to withstand whatever you decide to throw at him, and your ability to surprise him.

All things accounted for - truthfully, he had been suspecting you'd do something like this. Birthdays are important to you, and you like having a reason to dress-up anyhow.

So he was prepared for it, one way or another. He thought you'd do something like this, seen the money come out of his account a few weeks prior. He was excited then - mostly to tease you.

A fair exchange for how he's wrapped around your finger. He'd have made you done a little spin, tiled his head and quirked his lips as he asked if it was all for him. Smile at you lovingly while you glared at him irritated and bashful.

He was excited more-or-less. Now he's... well, maybe he can still call it that. Not nervous, not quite elated - some in between. Nerves suspended in mid-air, the kind of thrill he gets only now and again.

It's rare for anything to make his heart beat this loudly. It's not the first time you've accomplished it, but it never fails in it's novelty.

Just seeing you in your attire is enough to knock all of he air out of his lungs.

The air around you feels different as you come through the threshold of the bedroom door. Wearing a warm, familiar and playful expression - while you're nothing but provocative from the neck down.

You're dolled up from head-to-toe. Hair, make-up, nails.

A full fit of lingerie.

Everything is in a matching shade of maroon. A lace bow is secure around your neck in the same color.

You look up at Sylus with mirth in your eyes. A satisfaction even as you wait in earnest for his approval. You do a little spin, your robe swishing around you. And then you beam at him, all smiles.

"Don't I look nice?"

He almost scoffs reflexively. "You look like something out of a painting,"

Your heels click on the tile floors as you venture to him closer and closer. Sylus watches on silently until you stop in front of him.

"It's your birthday. We can get straight to business, if you like."

Sylus stares at you, slumped against the leather couch. It creaks under his weight.

"It'd be a shame to rip through such precious wrapping," Sylus murmurs, breath-taken. "Let me see you,"

You smile a little brighter. Pleased that he's interested, as if there was a way he wouldn't be. Your heels click when you take a step back, undoing the loose belt of your floor-length robe and let it fall open.

Sylus feels himself draw in a sharp breath as you show yourself off. The smooth curves of your body are all wrapped tightly in a sheer panels of lace and tulle. A bodysuit hugs your figure, balconette bra making everything sit pretty - thick ribbon straps tied at your shoulders. Your thighs are plush underneath garter straps, keeping up a pair of stockings in the same color. Sylus lets his eyes drift, lets them catch where the lace circles tightest around your thighs before they go lower.

At your feet are a nice pair of heels. A few inches high with something fluffy attached - a cute detail to go with your robe. You've got loose tulle gloves that for some reason knock him silent.

Sylus lets you model it for a while. Leans back into his seat and feels his cock strain tight against his pants at the sight of you. All the effort you put in him for makes him dizzy.

You let your robe drop finally, before turning on your heel.

He puts a hand over his mouth when he sees the back. Tries to be subtle. Feels a little thankful that you don't see him falter over it. You're so gorgeous he really doesn't know what to do.

Unsurprisingly he quite likes the view. It's not entirely revealing - but it's more ribbon then cloth. The small of your back hosts a little ribbon corset that stops just half-way - leaving most of your back exposed. Your ass is visible accentuated with more thin lines of red fabric.

You're wearing backseam leggings. For a reason he can't quite put into words, they're what seems to catch his attention most. From the back of your knee - a single seam all the way to the bottom of your foot. A long red-line, with a ribbon bow at the back of your ankle.

It's such a small detail, really. Maybe that's why Sylus finds himself so utterly enamored by it. It's the attention to such little things that he feels so aroused by.

You look over your shoulder, pleased by his silence. A coy, coquettish smile and mischievous air. A sweet scent surrounds you, freshly bathed - something like vanilla and spice.

Is this what being under a spell feels like? Sylus thinks it's the first time he's ever been so entranced.

"You're awfully quiet," You say, warm. A hand on your hip as you turn again, walking towards him. "Not a fan of the look?"

He laughs under his breath. "More like I'm speechless. I'm afraid there isn't a word good enough for you,"

"Are you flattering me?"

"Not at all. Just telling you how I see it," Sylus replies.

You sit yourself down in his lap again like you own it. "You like what you see?"

"Very much so,"

You smile at him, preening under the attention. You're seducing him successfully - but not for the reasons you might assume. You trail a finger down his jaw - head tilted with shimmering eyes. "It's your birthday, big guy. You can have whatever you want,"

"Are you sure that's a smart offer to make? I'm feeling a little greedy this evening, it seems."

Your laugh is warm, a bubbly sound like giggling that makes Sylus smile.

"Isn't it fine? It's your birthday after all," You lean in slightly, your voice closer to his ear. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, manicured nails slightly sinking into his skin. "Plus, I made preparations you know,"

He looks at you with his brows quirked but you just smile at him. You find his hand and hold it, bringing it between your thighs. Sylus' eyes widen as you pull away at the fabric covering your pussy.

With your hand over his, you guide his hand - his fingers where you want them. You use your finger to push his, middle finger pressing past your folds. A noise of effort escapes your lips as Sylus watches you in awe. His digit slipping into you easily, much easier then he can on a normal day. Almost like you—

"Stretched myself out in the shower," You hum, pleased. There's a sound in your voice like you know this is going to ruin him. It's working. His other hand finds your ass, holds it tight - trying to anchor himself as his fingers sit in the wet warmth of you. It's his own movement now. He tests three and each slide in without resistance and Sylus feels his chest get tight with arousal. Fuck. "Took a while. Had to use a few toys to get it—ngh, stretched completely. You know, for both holes,"

"You—kitten," His voice is thick with lust as he curls his fingers in. Feels you stretch. Feels the plug in the other side of you that makes his breath hitch. "That's not fair,"

"What are you saying? I did it for you, silly. Consider it your last present for today. Indulge a little. You always take good care of me, Sy." You're being sweet to him while you're riding his fingers and Sylus wonders when you learned to be like this and if he was always so weak. He's usually composed, even when you're fighting him tooth and nail to not be.

Maybe it's the fact you're not trying to work him up or break him that's doing it for him. You're being coy and cloying, but sincere in giving him a gift.

He feels strangely lightheaded at the thought of you gifting your body to him. Really gifting it to him. Not as a playful bit between you.

Sincere enough to stretch yourself all the way open in the shower for him, to dress up and dry your hair. To pick out a pretty outfit and wrap yourself in a red bow.

All for him.

"Sweetheart," Sylus groans. Deep from his chest, suddenly on edge. You laugh at him lightly and Sylus feels you tighten around his fingers. He puts his head on your shoulders and closes his eyes.

You're breathing with effort as you speak. "Let me finish, jeez. You always take good care of me when we do it, yknow. And you never let me do anything, which is nice but," You pull back and your lashes flutter. Sylus can't imagine living a thousand more lives and seeing anything half as beautiful as you. "Well sometimes I want to. I love you just the same as you do me. And I swear eventually I'm gonna fit you in my mouth—your dick is just fucking enormous but whatever—I'll do it eventually, anyway, the point is -"

Sylus just laughs. It startles you a little, but he can't help himself. Doesn't know what else to do to express how fucking endearing he finds you then and there. You pause, faltering a little. A pout on pretty lips.

"Don't laugh at me,"

"At you? I could never sweetheart. I'm just," He takes a breath. "Mm, what's the word? Happy, perhaps"

"Perhaps? Sylus you're hurting my feelings,"

"Am I?"

"Well...no, but. Don't say perhaps. I can't read your mind and you're making me kinda nervous,"

How silly for you to be nervous when just looking at you makes him like this. He hums, bemused. "Nervous?"

You give him a look. "Well I was expecting you to be more... I dunno... all 'oh, you dressed up for me sweetheart, how cute' like always but,"

He scoffs lightly. "Is that how I sound to you,"

You ignore him. "But you're being all... nice and stuff."

He laughs again and you flush. "Nice and stuff. Am I not usually nice?"

"You're..! Well you are but I dunno. I can't tell what you're thinking today. I feel a little silly,"

"Should I tell you then? What I'm thinking?" Sylus quips. You nod, almost hopeful.

"I'm thinking I've somehow gotten very lucky," Sylus presses a kiss to your cheek. Another at the corner of your mouth "And that, I must've done something monumental in my past life to have you all to myself,"

Sylus puts his lips where your pulse is, feels your heartbeat underneath thin skin. You pause before speaking. "And?"

He smiles a little. "And it'd be a great shame to waste any more time without enjoying my gift to the fullest. I'm saying I like it. Tell me how I should prove it to you?"

You giggle. It's a sweet sound, a breath of relief as you bury your face into his shoulder. Sylus lets his hands roam, sitting at the small of your back as you settle your weight into his lap. Sylus feels spurred to continue. "How could I tease you when you're trying so hard to please me? Do you think I'm so unaffected?"

"It's not my fault I have a hard time believing the big bad boss of Onychinus could get all worked up over little ol' me,"

Sylus hums. His fingers sink into the plush of your hips as he pulls you down - your clothed pussy flush to the outline of his clothed cock. "What a silly thing to think,"

"Oh fuck," You moan soft into his ear, both arms around his shoulders. Sylus likes the way you feel when you cling to him. How you breathe how your hips stutter. "Ngh, you're so hard,"

"All for you. I'm all yours,"

Sylus smiles a little as you grind yourself against him subconsciously. A careless cant of your hips as your body sinks against his chest. Sylus often teases about you being a kitten, but it's because of moments like this. Needy and unthinking like a cat in heat, making it easy on him to pin you down. He can feel you get off on him, feel how your movements stutter when you catch on your clit - shoulders trembling from pleasure.

Sylus presses his nose to your shoulder and lets you get off to your hearts content. Holds your body as tight as his hands can grip when you do.

"Sylus," Your words are long and drawn out.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Come on," You beg, not all the way there. "Use me already,"

He breathes in sharp, laughing. You really don't play fair.

He doesn't say anything of your request. "You don't have to wait for me. You can take what you want,"

A noise of complaint gets mumbled into his chest as you pull away from him. You lean back where you sit in his lap - face flushed, gloved hands quickly undoing the buckle of his belt and the zipper of his slacks. Sylus watches you through lidded eyes. Hooking your pointer into his boxers, you tug down just far enough to let his cock spring free and pull it out. It stands tall. A hard, heavy weight leaning against his dress shirt. Pre-cum dribbles against the material as it sways back.

The rough material of your tulle gloves makes Sylus hiss. You wrap your fist around the shaft of his cock but it doesn't fit - your fingers not touching.

You lean down as best you can and spit hard onto the head of his cock. Sylus groans as he feels it run down his length. Satisfied, you use your grip to stroke him until his cock is sticky and wet, making a mess of your gloves as they're stained with saliva and cum.

You push his shirt until it's bunched over his abs, feeling them up after you've prepared him.

"You're so big," You mumble. Sylus chuckles.

"Yeah?"

You nod, eyes glazed over. A thousand thoughts run through his mind at once but at the end of each last one is somewhere between adoration and lust.

Without ceremony, Sylus watches you stand on your knees on either side of his thighs and pull the material of your bodysuit away from your pussy. With your free hand, you hold onto his shaft and shimmy yourself down until the tip of Sylus' cock is right at your entrance.

You sink down onto his cock just like that - near effortless.

Sylus moans. It's never easy to get himself inside of you, but you're so soft inside. So perfectly stretched. Warm and sticky and inviting, he groans unabashedly as you sink down on his length slowly. Swallowing him up in a panting breath.

There's barely any resistance, but you're still tight from the plug you wear. You must've been fucking yourself for a long while to get like this and the image is seared into his mind. Sylus can't imagine how long it took you to get yourself like this. Your body never yields to him this easily, at least not until he's had his way with you over and over until you're so pliant you might shatter into pieces.

Sylus feels his body go slack from arousal. A feeling of electricity flickering up his spine as his cock is completely enveloped by your warmth. The head nudges against your cervix as you lose strength in your legs - bottoming out with a gasp.

Sylus growls. It's a low sound, a desperate one. His cock aches, desire welling up in his veins. He lets his head fall back, unusued to the sensation of getting everything in at once. His throat bobs as he hands find your ass. Gripping tight, he catches his breath as he feels you over him wobbling.

"Sylus," Your voice is so whiny like this. So endearingly gone. "Sylus, you're so big. Oh, it's—aah,"

His lashes flutter as he struggles to hold himself back. His dick and usual sense slowly ticking away. He opens his eyes loosely, putting a hand to your stomach before trailing it up - almost near your ribs. His voice is murmur soft. "I'm all the way in here,"

You make a choked noise, falling forward against his chest. "...Nn yeah. Mm. 's full."

He laughs but its incredibly strained. "You're really talented in getting me worked up, you know?"

"I'm not trying to,"

Sylus chuckles. "Oh I know,"

"Sylus," You whine.

He kisses your shoulder. "Yes, dove?"

"Fuck me. Please? Wanna move but I think my legs gave out,"

Sylus laughs again, warmer this time. Fonder. "How could I say no to such a sweet request?"

With you limp in his lap, it's all too easy for Sylus to hold you but your hips and fuck into you. You're almost weightless with your much you've melted into him, stuck to him with gravity.

Sylus is strong. With and without his EVOL. He thinks its a necessary thing to be given all he has to protect.

But it has its other uses.

It feels good being able to move you up and down on his cock like it's nothing. Not really moving his own hips to meet your movements, but holding you with both hands and picking up your full weight before pulling you back down again—while you claw into his shoulders for purchase. It's the first time you've ever been fucked open enough for him to do it without hurting you.

Even though he's fucking you hard enough for it to echo against his bedroom walls. The wet smack of skin to skin, the filthy sound of your pussy being carved into the shape of him, your hips slamming down on him relentlessly. Doing it without worry or concern.

There's something unusually animal about fucking you this way. No restraint, more like you're mating then making love.

It feels good to feel all of you. Feel every single inch of your perfect, pretty cunt - walls trembling on each thrust. Your short breaths and shaky moans, your nipples hardening through the salacious lace of your top and pressing against the swell of his chest.

You just feel so fucking good. You make him feel so good.

"I can't get enough of you, sweetheart," Sylus says, half-way to losing his mind inside of you but trying to keep it together. "You feel so perfect, I don't know if I'll be able to let you rest."

"Sy," Your voice is warped with pleasure, a loud needy cry for him and him only. "Wanna cum, wanna cum on your cock, Sylus please,"

"Touch yourself, sweet girl," Sylus hums. "I'll fuck you until you can't take it, so touch yourself and feel good,"

Sylus feels your shaky hand maneuver between your bodies. Your fingers twitch as you rub tiny circles into your throbbing clit, immediately clamping down his length from pleasure.

Sylus watches you as it all comes down at once. Your body weakened, numb from pleasure as you needily chase your own high. The sound of his name broken on your lips, rocking yourself to match his movements and grind into your fingers.

"I'm cumming. I'm cumming, I'm cumming, 'mcumming,'m—"

Sylus feels it. Your pussy squeezes, grips around the length of his cock like a vice. There's a sudden wetness, a spray of something wetting his abs and slacks. You whimper as he fucks you through the tremors. Fucked entirely stupid, even your thank yous come out slurred.

Sylus follows quickly behind, pumping his cum into you with a deep breath. He can feel it rise up, thick hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Touching a place he thinks he's only just reached for the first time.

You both pause to catch your breaths as Sylus takes a moment to toy with one of your garters. He kisses your neck, speaking into it.

"Thank you for the birthday gift. I think I'll take my time unwrapping it," Sylus hums.

You laugh tired. "Mm. Glad to know it was a success,"

[godzexperiment]

given how much nix is like built to be an younger sibling/menace accordingly+how he is ive just got this image of him 100% making like 'warning sign patches' for his siblings (its all an affectionate joke, one look at them shows its not actually serious)

just something like-

warning: actually 0 thoughts behind these eyes

[mountainashfae]

The stickers have already been delivered and opened, but time to post them ahaha. Happy Birthday to my dear friend @outeremissary! One day I will hopefully extend this concept to the rest of the companions, but until then I hope you can enjoy these and have a great birthday!

[vauschen-art]

Hey phighting and forsaken fans. Suprise

Have some headcanons for the survivors in Phighting because I can

Chance - Gave him bunny-like horns because he canonically owns a bunny.

Guest 1337 - Changed the USM logo on his bulletproof vest to be RBXM (Roblox Military) and the flag from an American flag to the old Roblox logo.

Shedletsky - Gave him chicken wings because of his "Chicken" skin, and the hood to reference his "Telamon" skin in Forsaken (and the fact that he's Telamon). Made his gear the "Chicken Leg" when the gear is called the "Turkey Leg" (because if Zuka's gear is the Exponential Rocket Launcher then I can change the gear name a bit). Also made him white as hell because when I inputted his yellow skin into a monochrome filter, it turned out white as hell.

007n7 - Gave him a mix of his original clothes and the "Dad" skin. Antlers come from his "Reindeer" skin and are the color of his original skin tone.

Two Time - Horns are the spawn wings they get when they enter their second life. Scarf is from their milestone 4 skin.

Elliot - Gave them Valk horns to reference his Milestone 4 skin, and made them the same color as his previously yellow skin. Again, made him white as hell for the same reason as Shedletsky, since the monochrome filter turned neon-yellow to white.

Noob - Yellow horns to match his previous skin, and made them the basic short devil horns because he's Noob, and that's about as basic as you can get. Looks weird and bald as hell but hey, so does regular Noob if you turn him completely white.

Builderman - Literally just normal Builderman with a helmet over his horns.

Dusekkar - This mf is literally Ghostdeeri what do you want me to do. He already fits into Phighting's whole universe.

All of these losers (affectionate) are in my Phighting + Forsaken fic on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63464632

[coffee-fueled-cookie]

hey, saw you're taking tec requests, and I was wondering if I could get some relationship headcanons for Pete, I want to cuddle and watch horror movies w that freak (affectionate) so bad.

thank you in advance, I really appreciate your work.

I hate to say it, but if I had to pick one of the guys as my boyfriend, Pete wouldn't be one of em. Mostly because I know our interests and niches would be too conflicting 😞

He's a pretty decent boyfriend, very typical. You'd think him a normal guy amongst the four if it weren't for his interests

It'd be normal at first, going out, holding hands, being cute

It ain't until you guys have a movie date do you kinda realize the kind of stuff he's into, if you hate it or get scared then he'll play boyfriend and cuddle up with you, rub your shoulder

He can be a little mean with his teasing, though, like you seeing this woman's legs cut off was supposed to be fun? Nah

However! If you like the movies he's got on, or even love them, it's a match made in heaven, you've unleashed a freak

He's so passionate about Halloween, and trust you guys would do really creepy couples costumes. Screw being Chucky and Tiffany, let's be Freddy Krueger and Nancy Thomspon. Let's be Jason Voorhees and Alice Hardy. Let's be Nosferatu and Ellen Hutter! LET'S-

You get the point

If you're good at makeup, don't be surprised he has you working overtime trying out traditional cosmetic effects, whether on himself or you

Since Valentines Day is around the corner, trust you'll get a bloody valentine themed gift, something like a realistic looking heart plush, oozy red candy, all the works

He does not like bringing you to the house, mostly because it's like a spotlight being put on him and you with his mom and brothers, it's just too overwhelming

And there's no way in HELL you're joining club meetings, he won't allow it, he may be weird but he swears his friends are true freaks (even though he may, arguably, be worse)

Overall, again, he's a decent and sweet boyfriend with some stuff that you'll have to look past or enjoy with him

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Hi love can you please write a male Wednesday whos obsessive and like his father towards reader

Not far from the tree

Pairing: Male Wednesday addams x reader.

Wednesday Addams, son of Gomez and Morticia Addams. A man who only felt joy if he ever had such emotion when he tortured the unfortunate souls he deemed worthy and who despised love, had fallen. You weren't Addams material, he observed, his empty, soulless eyes bored into you as you talked to your friends.

He didn't like them, he liked them dead for talking to his love. Elegant and graceful like normal, Wednesday walked up to you, the previous conversation was immediately stopped as your friends noticed him, his mere presence commanding silence. "My love. " he greeted plainly and grabbed your hand, his eyes boring into the leader of your friend group, almost daring them to speak up "I will be taking her. I hope you don't mind." Wednesday didn't give them time to reply as he stalked away, in dragging with you.

"Have I told you that I hate your friends?" He asked, his fingers tapping away on his old typewriter. "Plenty," you giggled, watching him affectionately from his bed. Wednesday was facing away from you, but you could see a hint of pink in his normally deadly pale cheeks. A comfortable silence settled between you two.

Wednesday despised the feeling of excitement or any other strong emotion, but seeing you so enthusiastic about the upcoming prom and all the fun things you could do together, he couldn't help but feel a tiny smile form on his lips. It made him almost happy to see you happy.

For you, Wednesday would do anything, even dressing up In a suit and tie that matched the color of your outfit, for your happiness Wednesday would do anything. He'd walk through hell, purgatory, and heaven just to see a smile on his Mi alma lips.

The plastic cup creaks under Wednesday's grip as he watches you dance with the leader of your little buddies, it was honestly pathetic that your friend called that dancing. Taking one last sip of the bland fruit punch, Wednesday sat his drink on the table and walked to you.

"May I cut in?" he asked, his coal-black eyes piercing into your friend's soul. "Uh, yeah, sure," they replied nervously before quickly making their way off the dance floor.

"You didn't have to scare them, you know," you giggled as you placed your hand on his shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his.

"How can I not?" he hummed, twirling you in a spin before dipping you.

"You're mine."

[dollyswishingwell]

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Mama Prince P.4

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ Fluff, i tried to make reader as badass and cool as possible lol, also i don’t know anything about bikes i made it up.

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Your babyboy realises how cool his mommy is

Masterlist

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The morning sun bled lazily into the seaside villa, brushing warm streaks across the marble floors. Rafayel sat cross-legged on the couch, a silk robe hanging loosely off his shoulder, blue-and-pink eyes half-lidded in sleepy indifference. But he wasn’t alone.

Nestled in his lap, your two-year-old son, an exact miniature of him, right down to the purple waves and sleepy lashes; was clutching a pastel tablet, tapping through old family photos.

“Mommy…” the baby mumbled, pointing at one of the images. His pudgy finger jabbed at a shot of you, dirt-streaked, bandaged, with a gun in your hand, eyes wild and focused as you stood over a pile of dead Wanderers.

Rafayel blinked once. Then twice. Slowly, he leaned in.

“…Oh.” His voice was soft. “This one’s from… the no hunt zone, isn’t it?”

Your baby clutched the tablet closer to his chest, eyes wide. “Mama fighted the monsters.”

“She really did, didn’t she?” Rafayel murmured, and something unspoken cracked faintly inside him. He swiped to the next photo: you hauling two wounded hunters over your shoulders, uniform torn, face streaked with blood, but still smirking like the smug girl he fell for. “You look like hell,” he said affectionately.

You padded into the living room in your silk robe and fuzzy slippers, yawning and rubbing your eyes. “What’s going on?”

Your baby boy immediately held the tablet up to you. “Mama fighted the monsters!!”

You blinked down at the screen. “Ohh. That day.”

“That day,” Rafayel echoed, tone flat. “The day you solo-cleared a whole Wanderer nest while bleeding from your stomach and still managed to drag three grown men to safety. The day you ignored your own broken ribs just to get a stupid scout out of the wreckage.”

You gave a sheepish smile and waved a hand. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m not.” He turned the tablet toward himself again, quietly thumbing through more pictures. “I remember this day. I didn’t say anything at the time. But i saw the news after. Said you were unstoppable.” He looked up at you. “Why didn’t you tell me you nearly died?”

You hesitated, then moved to sit beside him, leaning into his side. “Because I knew you’d cry. And I wasn’t ready to deal with you being a bigger baby than our baby.”

Rafayel scoffed, looking scandalized. “You absolute menace.”

“Mama’s scary!” your son declared proudly, snuggling into your other side

“Damn right,” Rafayel muttered, wrapping an arm around you both. “I married a wanderer-slaying, baby-birthing goddess. And now you’re waddling around in heart slippers and matching aprons with your clone son like you didn’t used to gut creatures in pitch-black caverns.”

You smirked and kissed your son’s forehead. “Well, I traded a plasma blade for a plush bunny and a clingy two-year-old. Worth it.”

He nodded solemnly. “Bunny strong.”

Rafayel laughed under his breath, tugging you closer. “You really are terrifying, you know? And disgustingly hot in combat. If I ever lose you again to a breach, I’m dismantling the entire Association.”

You leaned into him, smirking. “Aw. You still get jealous of my kill count?”

“No. I get jealous of your stamina.” His voice dipped into a teasing murmur. “But I’ll console myself knowing our baby boy’s got your strength.”

“Strong like Mama,” the baby mumbled, half-asleep against your chest now.

Rafayel stroked his son’s little head, lips twitching into a quiet smile. “Strong like Mama. Spoilt like Daddy.”

He looked back at the photo again, at the bloodied, unyielding girl you used to be, and then at the woman now curled into his side in a robe that said #1 MILF.

He kissed your temple and whispered, “You terrify me in the best way, pretty girl.”

And your baby boy, clinging to you like a little shadow, nodded as if he understood every word.

“Scary mama,” he agreed. Then he fell asleep, arms wrapped tight around your waist.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The private estate was quiet that afternoon, sunlight dappling through sheer curtains as soft classical music played in the background. Zayne sat at the edge of the master bed, going through an old, encrypted medical tablet you’d accidentally left out.

He meant to turn it off. He really did.

But then he saw it, a series of archived mission photos. Wanderer zones. Hunter data. And you.

You, helmet off, hair wind-tossed, skin smeared with ash and blood, holding your side where a deep gash bled through your suit. Behind you, five bodies—Wanderers, dead. Alone.

Zayne’s brow furrowed as he tapped the next image. A different angle. Your arm had been shredded. You were using your teeth to clamp gauze down while reloading a plasma rifle with one hand.

“…What the hell,” he whispered under his breath.

A sleepy voice from the doorway startled him.

“Daddy?”

Zayne looked up. His two-year-old son, his spitting image, messy dark hair, hazel-green eyes wide with curiosity, was toddling in holding a little doctor’s kit and dragging a blanket behind him. “Mama here?”

“She’s… in the bath,” Zayne said, voice slightly distant, still staring at the screen.

His baby clambered into his lap and looked at the image. “That’s mama.”

Zayne didn’t answer for a moment.

He zoomed in.

You were bleeding. Gritting your teeth. And smiling, smiling, at the camera after surviving what should’ve been a suicide mission. There were notes from your team. You’d held off seventeen Wanderers by yourself. Stabilized your teammates. Secured the extraction. And kept going.

His hands tightened around the tablet. “This was two days before you came home and told me you were fine.”

The baby boy squinted. “Mama strong.”

Zayne let out a slow breath, swallowing hard. “She’s more than that.”

He flipped through more files. Mission logs. Bio readouts. Your vitals were tanked, heart rate erratic, internal bleeding, multiple fractures, and you still cleared the mission. Alone. Silent. Clean.

His throat burned.

His wife. His precious, pampered, stay-at-home wife, who now wore pink slippers and whined for him to peel oranges during your period, had been walking headfirst into hell and not even blinking.

“She’s insane,” he muttered, kissing his son’s soft curls. “Beautiful. And completely insane.”

“I love mama,” the baby said proudly, patting the tablet image of you bleeding and bandaging a teammate.

Zayne snorted, amused and stunned and kind of horrified. “You get your taste in women from me.”

You emerged a moment later, towel-wrapped and blinking at the two of them on the bed. “What’s with the stares?”

Zayne just turned the screen around silently.

You paused. “…Oh. That.”

“That,” he repeated coldly, “is a photo of you walking through fire with your lung partially collapsed.”

You shrugged, toweling your hair. “I still made it to dinner. You remember? You made sea bass. It was good.”

He gaped at you. Your baby boy applauded. “Mama saved the people!”

“Yes, she did,” Zayne said, standing and walking toward you, voice quiet. “But if you ever do that again without telling me…”

“What?” You smirked up at him. “You’ll ground me, Dr. Heartthrob?”

“I’ll do worse.” He pulled you in with one arm, the other hand still gripping the tablet like it offended him. “I’ll sedate you and lock you in this estate and make you wear pink pajamas for the rest of your life.”

You leaned into his chest, laughing. “I already wear pink pajamas.”

He buried his face in your neck. “You do. And I like it. But I liked knowing this side of you too. The side that was willing to die so recklessly, for everyone but herself.”

You paused, then softened. “I never thought I’d live long enough to be someone’s wife. Or someone’s mommy.”

His arms tightened around you.

“You’re more than all of it, you know,” he said, voice hoarse. “You’re not just pretty. You’re not just mine. You’re not just Mama. You’re terrifying.”

Your baby boy peeked up from the bed, arms in the air. “Scary mama!! Hug too!!”

Zayne lifted him, balancing your entire family against his chest.

“Mama’s the strongest,” your son whispered proudly, squishing his cheek against yours.

Zayne kissed both your foreheads and smiled faintly. “She really is.”

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

The oversized penthouse was still, save for the soft whir of cooling systems and the distant hum of deep-space traffic through the windows. Xavier was curled sideways on the floating couch in one of his usual half-asleep states, shirt half-buttoned, silver hair tousled, baby boy sprawled like a plush toy across his chest, hugging him like a koala.

Your little one had the same sleepy blue eyes, same snowy lashes, same habit of falling asleep in ridiculous positions. But today, he was wide awake. And he was pawing through an old holographic scrapbook you’d forgotten to lock.

One file opened with a flicker of light.

A combat clip.

It was… you.

You, sprinting full-speed through a crumbling corridor of an abandoned Wanderer vessel, hair flying, eyes sharp. You took down three armored Wanderers with back-to-back shots, didn’t pause once to breathe, then slashed a fourth clean through the midsection with a glowing blade.

The baby gasped softly. “Mama fighting!!”

Xavier blinked, slow and unfocused at first. Then his gaze sharpened.

He reached up and tilted the holo down where he could see it fully.

“…That’s from the Duskroot Sweep,” he murmured.

The image flicked again. You were in the midst of twelve enemies, twelve. You moved like liquid fire, emotionless, clinical, the kind of deadly grace he only ever saw in himself. Your leg was bleeding. You were favoring your ribs. Still, not one shot missed.

The corner of his lip twitched.

“…Oh.”

His baby was fully enthralled. “That’s my mama,” he said reverently, pointing at the screen. “Mama beat the monsters. Zoom in, Daddy.”

Xavier obeyed, brows knitting as the feed closed in on your blood-splattered face. You looked detached. Focused. Inhuman.

His chest clenched.

You didn’t even blink when the mission ended. Just walked off, wiping your blade on your sleeve, leaving behind a heap of carcasses and stunned survivors.

“Scary…” your son whispered in awe. “But I love Mama.”

Xavier smiled faintly. “I do too.”

“Mama’s a hero,” your boy whispered, curling into his father’s neck. “She saved people.”

Xavier stared at the screen for a long moment, lost in it.

He remembered that mission. He hadn’t been there. You hadn’t let him. “It’s fine, I’ve handled worse,” you’d said.

He didn’t realize you meant this.

He stood slowly, your baby still in his arms, and wandered barefoot into your shared bedroom. You were curled up on the bed with your fluffy socks and a tea mug, scrolling through gala outfits like it was your full-time job.

You glanced up. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Your son immediately reached for you. “Mamaaa~!! You fighted all the monsters!”

You blinked. “…What?”

Xavier handed him over gently. “He found the Duskroot file.”

You made a face. “Ugh. I forgot to lock that folder.”

“You didn’t tell me it was that bad.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to know.”

He crouched beside the bed, quiet for a long time. Then his gloved hand brushed over your ankle, anchoring there.

“You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.”

“I wanted to.” You kissed your baby’s cheek as he squished into your chest. “I didn’t think anyone would come. And I didn’t want you seeing me like that.”

“You’ve seen me like that.”

“I know,” you said gently. “And you always look beautiful when you fight.”

He looked up at you, expression unreadable. Then leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to your leg, right where you’d been shot.

You blinked.

“I think you’re beautiful when you fight too,” he murmured, voice hushed.

You flushed slightly. “…Really?”

He nodded slowly. “Terrifying. Efficient. Beautiful. Like the storm systems on Yelith Nine. Cold and stunning and unstoppable.”

Your son mimicked him, leaning over and kissing your leg too.

“Strong Mama,” he whispered.

You laughed, pulling both boys in closer. “You’re so weird, both of you.”

Xavier nestled into your lap, burying his face against your belly. “We’re in love.”

“Mama forever,” your son added seriously, hugging your waist.

You sighed, happy and a little overwhelmed, completely tangled in two generations of clingy boys with silver hair and sleepy eyes.

And neither of them would ever let anyone forget that you were the strongest woman in the galaxy.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

It started innocently.

A lazy afternoon in your alpine estate’s private garage bunker, yes, garage bunker, where Sylus had dragged himself to “check the inventory” (aka admire his dozen motorcycles like they were priceless art pieces).

Your two-year-old son toddled beside him in a mini leather jacket, little silver curls bouncing as he sucked on a pacifier shaped like a skull and pointed at the gleaming bikes.

“Daddy bike.”

“Yes,” Sylus smirked, proud. “That one’s the Vortex R-9. Triple-core combustion. Prototype built for—”

“Where’s Mama’s bike?”

Sylus paused.

He glanced down at the toddler, who stared up at him with Sylus’s exact red eyes, full of stubborn demand.

“…Mama’s bikes are in the vault wing,” Sylus muttered after a beat.

Because, yes. You had your own collection.

And not just any collection.

You had rare, battle-tested, bloodstained motorbikes from your hunter days. Bikes with notches carved into the handles for every mission survived. Bikes with modified exo-boosts that Sylus himself had tried, and failed, to copy.

He hadn’t stepped foot in that wing in a while.

Your baby ran ahead, pressing his sticky little hand on the biometric lock. “I wanna see Mama’s bikes! I love Mama!”

Sylus followed slowly, arms crossed, face unreadable. The vault opened with a hiss of air.

There they were.

Twelve machines. Sleek. Brutal. Beautiful. Faster than anything he owned. One of them still had the scorch marks from a Wanderer nest raid. Another had your name etched into the engine casing by hand, by an enemy who hadn’t lived to brag about it.

“…Tch.”

He opened a dusty data tablet near the entrance. Your old mission logs.

Combat footage.

One screen flickered to life: You, zipping through the Outer Expanse, riding full-speed across broken terrain, dodging debris and Wanderer fire as you balanced a wounded hunter on the back seat, steering with one hand and sniping backward with the other.

Another video played automatically. A race. Underground. Illegal.

You blew past Sylus at the finish line, turned your head mid-wheelie, and winked at the camera like the smug little gremlin you were.

He stared in silence.

“…She cheated,” he muttered automatically.

Your baby giggled. “Mama beat you~”

“That was years ago.”

“She still faster!”

He spun slowly on his heel and narrowed his eyes at the toddler. “Traitor.”

Just then, the vault door opened again.

You stood there in leggings and a cropped tee, sipping an iced drink, hair up in a messy bun. “You boys miss me?”

Your baby immediately ran into your arms like you hadn’t been gone for five minutes. “Mama!! You beat Daddy!!”

You blinked, then looked at Sylus.

“…You showed him the vault?”

“He found it himself. Blame your genetic overachiever streak.”

You smirked. “He takes after me.”

Sylus scowled, striding over to you with a sulky tilt to his mouth. “You let me think I was the best rider in the family for years.”

“You needed the confidence boost, babe.”

“I own twelve global armories. I don’t need ego handouts from a washed-up Hunter Princess.”

You grinned. “Still sore about that race?”

“You pulled a gravity-slide in a collapsing tunnel.”

“And won,” you said sweetly, cupping his cheek with the same hand that once braked a 300kph death-cycle with raw pressure and no assistance.

He looked like he wanted to bite you and kiss you at the same time.

Your baby looked between you both and clapped his chubby hands. “Mama cool. Mama best. I want ride bike with Mama!”

You gasped. “Really?? You wanna ride one with me?”

“Yes!! Not Daddy!! Only Mama!”

Sylus growled under his breath.

“Mama gets all the glory,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Mama earned it,” you purred, leaning up to kiss his jaw.

He rolled his eyes but tugged you against him anyway, eyes glinting. “If our son asks for a baby-sized bike, you’re the one installing the safety harness.”

“I already made one,” you whispered proudly.

Sylus blinked. “You what—”

“C’mere, babyboy,” you cooed to your son, pulling him to the biggest bike in the vault. “Wanna show Daddy how we ride?”

The baby cheered, and Sylus could only stare, exasperated and a little turned on as his two favorite nightmares climbed onto a death machine like it was a toy horse.

“Mama’s fast,” your son declared.

“Mama’s insane,” Sylus muttered.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

The penthouse was unusually quiet. No fleet calls, no defense system alerts. Just warm afternoon light spilling through the sky-high windows and Caleb, standing in front of a huge projection screen in his private study, arms folded tightly across his chest.

He hadn’t meant to snoop.

He’d just been digging through encrypted backups from an old fleet tech core, salvaged from a retired deep space satellite. Most of the files were corrupted. One wasn’t.

It was labeled with your hunter ID.

Curious, Caleb had opened it.

And now he couldn’t stop watching.

You.

Outnumbered. Bleeding from your side. But calm.

You stood at the top of a scorched observation tower, wind howling, plasma rifle balanced against your shoulder. You didn’t even flinch as Wanderers surged toward you from all sides. You moved like you’d done this before. So many times before. Clinical. Precise. Untouchable.

One. Two. Five. Eight. You dropped them with clean shots, ducked a blast, slid under an explosion, and reloaded without looking.

He stared.

His wife. His soft, pampered, spoiled little wife who now needed help opening pickle jars and insisted on cuddling with a stuffed bear in bed. His wife who wore frilly pajamas and whined about cold tile floors.

Had once done this.

By herself.

And you’d never told him.

His comm buzzed.

“Daddy!”

He turned, instantly softening.

Your son, a little bundle of dark brown curls and violet eyes, dressed in a tiny version of Caleb’s officer uniform, came sprinting in with a squeaky toy plane in one hand and a lollipop in the other.

“Mama’s not in the kitchen,” your baby announced gravely. “I looked.”

Caleb blinked, still half-caught in the shock of the footage. “She’s… probably in the bath.”

The toddler clambered into his arms and looked up at the projection. “That Mama?”

“…Yeah.”

Your baby gasped. “Mama has a gun??”

Caleb nodded slowly. “A big one.”

“She shooted the monsters?”

“She did. All by herself.”

Your baby stared with round, amazed eyes. “Mama’s a superhero.”

Caleb swallowed. “Yeah. She is.”

Just then, the door slid open. You padded in, wrapped in a robe, drying your hair with a towel.

“Hey, oh. What are you guys watching—”

You froze when you saw the screen.

Your voice dropped. “You found that file?”

Caleb said nothing at first. He walked forward slowly, toddler still perched on his hip.

“You didn’t tell me you were on the Volaris Expanse mission.”

You grimaced. “Didn’t think it mattered anymore.”

He stared at you. “You cleared that zone alone. You took three shots to the ribs, crawled across a burning corridor, and still made it to evac.”

You shrugged. “I was good at what I did.”

Caleb just kept looking at you, violet eyes unreadable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly.

“Because you would’ve made me stay in bed for a year.”

“Damn right I would’ve.”

Your baby squished between you both, clutching Caleb’s collar. “Mama fighted the monsters for me?”

You smiled softly. “A long time ago. Before you were born.”

The baby gasped. “I love you, Mama. You’re amazing.” He kissed your cheek. “Can I have a gun too??”

“Absolutely not,” Caleb snapped.

“But Mama—!”

“She also used to fly solo-drop bikes into atmospheric rupture zones,” Caleb said, turning to you with a sharp look. “Also a detail you left out.”

You chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to your son’s soft curls. “What can I say? I was cool.”

“Was?” Caleb echoed. “Darling, you are the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen in a dress.”

Your baby clapped. “I want a dress like Mama!!”

Caleb smirked. “You can have a little cape, cadet.”

You laughed and took your baby into your arms, nuzzling his cheek. “Do you still love Mama now that you know she’s scary?”

Your son’s eyes sparkled. “I love Mama more. Mama’s the best. I wanna ride a bike with her and shoot the bad guys and cuddle after!”

You gave Caleb a smug look.

Caleb sighed, brushing his hand down his face. “I should’ve known when I married you that you were gonna raise a clone of me with your fight instinct.”

You winked. “Good luck, Colonel.”

He reached for you, pulling you in with one arm and kissing your forehead. “No. Good luck to everyone else.”

[milkteabinniechan]

♡His Brother's Bride - Felix

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: old money! Felix x fem! reader

summary: You're to be married to a respectable, eligible bachelor to bring your two families businesses together. But what happens when you fall for the brother instead?

warnings: none really! Lots of fluff, some angst.

a/n: this is a shorter one I'm sorry! I'm still getting back into the swing of things. But I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope it shows :)

There was a lull in the conversation. A moment of silence. And that was all it took for Felix to move in closer. Closer than a friend would stand. Close like a lover, his hands came up and around your sides. His fingers traced the intricate pearls that lined the corset of your wedding dress. You held your breath while his hands continued their journey up your spine. Each passing second he was bringing you in closer and closer.

“Don't marry him.”

Your eyes trailed across his tailor made suit, soaking in every detail of the expensive tuxedo your husband-to-be had picked out for his best man. A matching suit with his brother. Why did it have to be his brother? Your father owned one of the largest wineries in the state. The only other one that even compared belonged to Felix's family. It will be good for business. Your father declared very matter-of-fact one evening at the dinner table. You would marry the eldest son of the rival company and the two wineries would merge into one giant, money-making machine of capitalism and greed. You knew the boy your father spoke of. An eligible bachelor that was handsome and worldly. But you wanted to know more. So you hatched a plan to learn as much as you could about your new fiance. When your family and his would come together to meet and agree on the fine print, you would disguise yourself as someone unassuming and blend into the crowd. 

The dinner party was a shitty mask for what was really happening. Two rich old men were about to get a hell of a lot richer. You made your way across the room and spotted a well dressed man standing alone. He had long, blonde hair and freckles splayed across his cheeks and nose. He smiled politely at a man walking by and your heart jumped for a moment.

“How's the food?” You asked, sidling up next to him.

The man paused and turned to face you. That warm smile returned but more sincere this time. “Eh. Rich people have no taste, ya know?” He scoffed and pointed over to the dinner table adorned with food that looked delicious but you knew from experience that that was far from the truth.

You held in a loud laugh that came out as a snort. “So this isn't your first dinner party then.” You teased, nudging his arm slightly and trying to ignore the obvious muscle underneath the expensive suit.

The two of you talked for the better part of an hour. You gave him a fake name and told him you were some distant cousin from across the water. He didn't pry, accepting your lie as fact almost immediately. He told you his name as well. The sound of it seemed to ring in your ears like the bells of a church. Then he told you his brother was getting married. An arranged marriage. He was getting fitted for a tuxedo just next week. You swallowed hard at the sound of arranged marriage. The words echoed coldly.

“What's he like- your brother?” You moved in close, your head cocked to the side casually.

Felix stepped back for a minute and looked across the room at where his brother was standing. His mouth quickly curled up into a warm, affectionate smile. “He's great. He's going to take great care of his new bride.” You sighed heavily. Your hand falling back onto the table while you let your shoulders relax. “Good.” You said curtly.

Felix tilts his head in confusion. His lips part for a moment as if he wants to ask you more but instead he stops and hands you a glass of wine from the table beside you. He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing against yours as you take it. A spark of electricity seems to pass between you at the touch, and he lingers for a moment before pulling back. You hold the wine tight in your hand hoping that the feeling of the cold glass will ground you and keep you from floating away. For a moment, neither of you say a word. But your eyes are screaming into his while a string quartet fills the silence between you. Felix moves on instinct, his body closing the gap as your lips inch closer to one another. You part your lips and crane your neck, all sense of social etiquette left somewhere on the other side of the world. Then an ear-splitting sound pierces through the euphoria as your father calls for you to join him. Felix's eyes shoot open as he connects the dots with who you really are. “You're the one my brother is marrying?” His voice is full of pain and betrayal. You want to apologize and tell him you can explain but your father shouts again and you follow him into his study, leaving Felix standing alone again. The smudge of your lipstick still lingering on the edge of the wine glass.

“Today is the big day! Are you excited?” Your mother buzzed around you while two women pinned your hair back tight. “Just thrilled.” You groaned back. Your mother rolled her eyes and poured herself another glass of champagne. You waited until everyone had left you alone to finish getting ready before you made your way outside onto the grass. You struggled to lift your dress and run at the same time, tripping and tumbling slightly as you moved. You just need air. You needed to breathe. To take stock of what was about to happen. What was about to happen?

“Are we running away?” A deep voice hummed from behind you. You twirled around to see Felix standing there with a playful smirk. “Just say the word and I'll start the car.” He had his hands in his pockets but he lifted his chin up towards the cars parked nearby. You smile softly. A sad, desperate laugh escapes your throat. “Sounds good. We'll be runaways together.” You whisper back, your face hanging low. Felix gently lifts your chin, bringing your face to his. “As long as we're together.”

A moment of silence. A second alone. You could feel the heat coming from Felix's body as he leaned in. Your eyes glance at his lips and then to his eyes. His hand dragging from your chin down to the back of your neck. “Before you say ‘I do’, I want to kiss you first.” Your eyes flutter closed, and he parts his lips slightly. He leans in the rest of the way, pressing his mouth to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulls back after a moment, his breath hitching as he looks at you, his eyes filled with love and affection. You pull him in again without warning, kissing him deeper. A marking kiss telling him that he was the first. That your lips belonged to him.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat

[mia-maybank]

I Have A Feeling You Got Everything You Wanted: Part 3 - George Clarke

George Clarke x Fem!reader (2.2k words)

The sidemen charity match , a gorgeous ex-boyfriend with a mullet and his entire friendgroup scattered around the stands to avoid ... what could ever go wrong?

warnings: alcohol consumption, throwing up (not graphic more just mentioned), a sickening amount of pet names bcs I can't help it??

series | masterlist

I'm so sorry this took a while to get out, I started my A-level exams this week and moved house so its been hell :') Thank you guys for being so patient!

Also I'm thinking this series is gonna be around 6-8 parts but if there's any other moments or headcannon type stuff people would like to see around this series I would love to do lil bonus chapters as well!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The others don't notice our entrance into the changing room at first, too busy playfighting, jokingly arguing with one another and Chris attempting to waterboard Stephen with his half-empty water bottle. Both teams seemed to have congregated to the Sidemen FC changing room, the plentiful blurs of black and red only amplifying the sickening swirl of nerves in my stomach.

Harry is the first to notice us, and whilst he makes a valiant effort at a poker face, his widened eyes give away how despite being one of the group that ran into me on the stairs, he did not expect George to bring me back here.

Will spots us next, his hands dropping to our linked pinkies with a furrowed brow before he bounces over to us without a second thought.

"Ay, Y/n! Long time no see mate" he calls out before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug that I quickly reciprocate, feeling something in my heart heal slightly from somebody being so openly affectionate following weeks of being touch-starved.

His greeting announces my presence to the rest of the group, and the chaos trudges to a halt as the others turn their attention to me. My head swims with anxiety, and I feel the sudden need to bolt from the room and find somewhere quiet and lonely and safe to hide, away from the shell-shocked stares of my ... found family? friends? ex-friends? I wasn't quite sure where we stood anymore, our friendships balancing on a delicate scale that had been accumulating dust for the past 2 months and is now going to tip one way or the other.

"Y/n where the fuck have you been?" Theo barks out, making me recoil slightly, anticipating the angry ramble that The was well-known for when he felt strongly about something. To my surprise, he instead pulls me into a bone crushing hug, and the relief hits me like a freight truck when I realise that I'm not being stared at with judgement, but rather soft smiles and relieved expressions from the rest of the group. "I thought you'd died or moved to another country or something stupid like that" Theo murmurs, accompanied by a small sniffle.

"Theo Baker, are you crying?" I half-tease, half enquire in concern as he turns away from me, clearly trying to hide the tears in his eyes and the way his ears have turned red from embarrassment of being caught. "No, fuck off, I forgot how annoying you are" he responds, making me laugh lightly, a sound I haven't made in months, as he adds on "you're seriously never allowed to vanish like that again though, that was terrifying".

As soon as Theo pulls away fully, I'm swarmed with choruses of "you're back!", "I missed you so much" and "where have you been for the last 2 months?" as well as bone-crushing hugs from each and every person, even Chip and Calfreezy, who come in to investigate the commotion. Through the arms of the various boys, I spot George in the corner next to Chris, staring at me with a fond and familiar gaze that makes my cheeks warm and my heart flutter. I duck my head quickly into the shoulder of Stephen (who is in the middle of half-crushing me in a hug and half-lecturing me about my disappearance in his usual sarcastic manner) before George can notice my rosy cheeks and realise how much he still affects me.

Despite the warm welcome from each individual, there is still an underlying tension thickening the room, the type of tension that cannot be avoided or ignored. Sure enough, Chris steps over to me, his smile sincere and loving but his eyes holding a quiet sadness as he guides me gently to sit on the bench between him and George.

"Y/n, I think you need to speak to the guys about what you told me earlier... only if you want to of course but I think it's important that they know how hard the last 2 months have been" Chris encourages gently, his soothing tone having little effect on me as I immediately begin to shake my head in panic.

"Y/n love, it's okay. Me and Chris are right here with you" George chimes in, warm fingers interlocking with my own, and if I wasn't so focused on George's soft gaze, I would have noticed the suggestive glances the others were throwing at me and George.

I take a deep breath, squeezing George's hand tightly as a way to soothe my nerves, before turning to address the group. "After - after the breakup it was - hard to say the least" I begin, avoiding eye contact with everybody. "I know I didn't reach out to any of you and that's my fault, but when nobody contacted me after the breakup I thought you had all taken George's side and I can't lie that fucking hurt." my voice cracks now, but I push on, refusing to stop now that I have already said so much. "It felt like my life kind of stopped following the breakup - I had no friends, no motivation to film for my youtube channel and no reason to get out of bed most days. Today is the first time I've left my flat in the last 8 weeks, and I don't think I can go back to being that alone again". Tears are streaming freely down my face now and I wipe them away, embarrassed at how much I'm breaking down in front of such a large group.

A deadly silence stretches on for an unbearable 30 seconds before Stephen is the one that dares to break it. "Y/n I'm so fucking sorry" he apologises, his usually humour and sarcasm entirely void. "That was so fucking shitty of us and there's no excuse for that".

I shake my head, tears embarrassingly springing to my eyes once more. "I don't blame you guys-".

"Y/n" George cuts me off gently, tightening his grip on my hand and looking down at me with a small frown full of guilt. "You should blame us because we should of reached out, hell even I should have checked in and that's that, okay?" Despite his gentle tone, his voice leaves no room for argument, so I instead lean into him, allowing the guys to embrace me in a tangle of limbs and sincere apologies.

~~~

I should have predicted that drinking so much would end in disaster.

The night had started not far from perfect, with me further reuniting with Arthur Hill (my musically-talented ex-flatmate that I had lived with for years alongside Chris and George), Arthur Frederick (my museum partner who had spent hours with me info-dumping on each other about our own niche interests and the only person who can beat me at chess) and Isaac (my much newer,but just as close-knit friend who had been brought into our friend group by Arthur and had slotted right in like it was always meant to be). I had further been brought right back into the fold of the girls, following a teary reunion with Liv, Talia and Sabina.

As well as reuniting with my friends, I had spent most of the night tucked into George's side, allowing myself to find solace in his muscular arms. We had spent most of the night sharing one glass between the two of us simply because we could, giggling and dancing around together like the last 2 months had never happened at all.

However, I should have taken into consideration the fact that I have drank zero alcohol since the breakup, not trusting myself not to develop an addiction, and therefore my tolerance has plummeted drastically. That is how I find myself in my current position; hunched over the club's disabled toilet (for the female one's were full), throwing my guts up as my vision swims and my consciousness decreases by every passing second.

I am so lost in my drunken haze that I barely register the frantic knocking at the door, or the sound of my name being frantically called. The next thing I know, the door, which I clearly must of forgotten to lock, is pushed cautiously open, and there are warm hands cupping my face, guiding me to look the intruder. George, with an equally worried Chris following behind him and coming to crouch at my other side.

"Grab some water?" I vaguely hear George ask, and Chris speeds off once more, to presumably get the water George requested.

"Sweetheart, can you hear me?" George questions, his voice so so gentle and full of concern. I nod slightly before heaving again and throwing myself back over the toilet, George wincing before moving to crouch behind me, holding my hair in a ponytail with one hand whilst rubbing my back with the other. "Do you have a bobble, love?" he continues, and rather than attempting a verbal response I stick my wrist out, allowing him to detach the bobble from my wrist and tie my hair back. He is gentle and methodical, being mindful not to tug too hard or snag on any knots.

I throw up once again, the unsettling feeling of it ripping a sob out of my throat, and he immediately pulls me into his arms, undetterred by the fact I am sweaty, snivelling and still gagging slightly.

"It's okay lovey, I've got you" he murmurs, holding me steady. "Jesus, have you gone on an alcohol ban since the breakup or something?" he jokes, attempted to make me laugh, but in my drunken state I can only blink at him like a lost puppy.

"If I started drinking i didn't trust that I would be able to stop" I slur out, too gone to notice the way his face drops.

"Oh sunshine" he finally chokes out, placing light kisses on my forehead and cheek, and it is then that I register George is nowhere near sober either.

"Georgie, are you drunk?" I tilt my head back against his chest to gaze up at him, admiring his strong jaw and his sparkling eyes.

"You've definitely beat me in the drunk department, love, don't you worry" he chuckles, tightening his hold on me as I melt into his chest, trying to push away the gnawing fear at the back of my mind that I may not get another chance to cuddle him like this once we are sober.

Chris finally comes back, holding a glass of water, and to his credit doesn't bat an eyelid at the intimate position me and George are in.

"Drink up" he hold the glass to my lips, tilting it for me, however I don't manage to drink much as my body chooses that moment to entirely give up and collapse into George's arms like a ragdoll.

I faintly hear the panicked exclamation of "shit" from Chris as I am picked up in my half conscious state by George, as he cradles me to his chest bridle-style.

"Don't - don't wanna go home, s'lonely and full of bad thoughts- scary" I slur out.

"Don't worry angel, you're coming home with us" is the last thing I hear George say before my vision fades entirely to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@the-internets-girlfriend @madforgeorge @happyclifford @sidemenslver @heyitsmefall @bbygrlllllll @mothersversiononly @dopeysunflowers @kwonhoeshi @ooostarwarsfandom501st @liz140569 @tyna-19 @livvymd @artvscvntymullet @swizzlemynizzle