#I don’t know colours. help me please. if you have any ideas let me know in the comments

[worms-for-brains]

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Soap and Ghost being gay little deities and doing gay little deity stuff. Not fully rendered because teehee I felt silly.

[xxblairexxss]

Cookies!

Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader

Them : Angst, I think.

Word count : 2k

Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.

I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔

Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.

But you did.

There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.

Some even called you lucky.

A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.

But there were still ups and downs.

The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.

“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.

Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.

And so did Aaralyn.

Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.

“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”

You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”

“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.

“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.

She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”

“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”

“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.

“What kind of powder?”

“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.

••

Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.

“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.

“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.

The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.

“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.

“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.

You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.

“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.

“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.

You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.

“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.

“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.

“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.

Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”

“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”

You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.

“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.

“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.

Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.

“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.

“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.

Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.

“Daddy…?”

“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.

“It’s me, Alyn!”

“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.

Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.

Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.

“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.

“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”

“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.

Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”

Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.

“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.

“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.

“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”

“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.

“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.

“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.

“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”

Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.

You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.

“Come, baby,”

Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”

Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.

“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”

“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.

“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”

**

Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.

3:02

Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.

It was empty. Untouched even.

“Honey?”

His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.

“Aaralyn. Honey?”

Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.

“Daddy’s

— Aarlyn ❤️”

••

You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.

As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.

Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.

“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.

“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.

“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.

“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.

“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”

“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.

“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.

“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.

“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”

[greer2301]

My Mothers Keeper

Daemon X Fem!Reader

|Step father x step kid fantasy taboo|

Reader is of age!

Smut! MDNI !

He looked so good, his blonde hair cut short, brows pulled together as he leant back and took a sip of his wine with his free hand thudding his fingers along the edge of the table.

I know what those fingers feel like. The euphoria they bring me when he plays with the bundle of nerves between my legs, I know how they fit in my mouth and how my juices taste on them. Daemon Targaryen, my step father, my mother’s keeper and the only man to know what I truly desire.

He sat conversing with Jace about his swordsmanship, he didn’t give away if he noticed my hand creeping up his thigh. Having been leant against his chair for quite some time now no one questions when I lean in a little more. Mother too immersed in what Luke has to say to pull away her attention, I work my hand over his clothed length smirking when I feel him harden in my palm and his body slightly tenses. I loosen the lace on his pants just enough to pull him out, slicking my hand with his seed as I begin to stroke him slowly. I take the opportunity that no one’s paying attention, slipping beneath the table as I keep working his cock.

I wait a moment for someone to notice, my core throbbing as I stroke his thick cock knowing anyone could catch us if they paid any attention. I take him in my mouth, licking from his base to the tip swirling my tongue and tacking him in fully hollowing out my cheeks, bobbing my head quickly and stroking what I can’t reach while twisting my wrist. Daemons hand moved from the table to hold my hand that rested on his clothed thigh, squeezing at times to let me know it feels as good as I think it does. His hand moves to my hair and he shoves my head down without warning, my gag reflex triggers as he blows his load in the back of my throat I swallow and pull off slowly. I clear my throat after I sit back in my seat, taking a sip of wine and placing Joffrey on my lap as his nurse maid brings him in.

Slowly everyone disperses from the dinning area, I step into my room to take my bath, the boys are gone down to the dragon mont, Joffrey is off with his nursemaid and I have no idea where mother and Daemon went. I strip of the days clothes and get into the bath, unbraiding my hair as I breathe in the rose and vanilla oils in the water humming a tune from a bards ballad. I was washing my hair when he came in through one of the old tunnels, quietly sitting at the table across from me and pouring himself some wine as he watched me finish bathing. As I was ready to get out he brought a drying sheet, extended me his hand helping me down the steps while admiring my bare self.

“You’re truly an amazing creature” Daemon started “A little fox, sneaky, beautiful and vicious” Daemon teases as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close and kissing my neck. Running his hands around my damp curves as he walks us to the bed, his lips molding with mine before he removes my towel and lifts me onto the bed. Daemon wastes no time as his fingers immediately make contact with my aching core, my slick coating his fingers as he skillfully manipulates my clit. “You’re such a pretty whore, a whore for your daddy huh” Daemon grumbles out, his voice thick with lust as he looks into my mixed coloured eyes and watches the look of pleasure on my face.

“Only for Daddy” I tell him with a tremble, gasping as he inserts two fingers in my aching cunt and starts ruthlessly thrusting into me. “Mmm- you were fucking made for me” Daemon says as he moves over me, removing his hand from me and placing his mouth on my clit, his tongue drawing shapes as he applies more pressure. “S’good daddy, please don’t stop, fuck” I moan out as he places his fingers back in and sets his pace again his mouth slurping my juices relentlessly as he shakes his head with a moan. “Need yo- your cock, Daddy please” I moan arching my back as I feel my climax coming. Daemon just moans in response pressing his head against me harder, with one last flick of his tongue I cum. Shaking and sweating, hands holding his head in between my legs moans flowing loudly out of my mouth as he rubs my thighs his tongue slowly helping me ride out my high.

“Now you’ll take Daddy’s cock you little slut” Daemon demands as he unlaces his pants, pushing them down and rubbing his hard length between my lips collecting my slick, without warning he thrusts into me, my hand finding his hip and our eyes locked as we both moan at the sensation. Daemon is ruthless in his speed, slamming his hips into mine with each thrust squelching sounds being heard around the room as his dick forces my cunt open. Our moans are hardly held back, his hands holding my legs bent and pushed back as one of mine plays with my nipple and the other grips his wrist. “Daddy feels so good!” I moan out, back arching off the bed as he thrusts deeper, his head thrown back a little before he looks back at me with a smirk “This is Daddy’s perfect fucking pussy. I’ll burn any man who tries to claim it” Daemon groans as he lets go of my leg and moves to wrap his hand around my neck, cutting off blood flow with the new position his pelvis slaps my clit with each thrust.

“Gonna fucking cum Daddy” I moan out as I scratch his wrist, my pussy tightening around his cock as I start to see stars. “Cum on Daddy’s cock sweet girl” Daemon demands, speeding up his thrusts and pushing me over the edge, shaking as I choke out a moan and cream all over his pretty cock, Daemon moans as he spills his seed in me and stays still for a moment. “You’re going to bare my child, you will never know another cock” Daemon says breathlessly, walking to the basin and grabbing a damp cloth coming back to wipe me off and then himself. Daemon says nothing else as he crawls into bed and holds me close, caressing my shoulder as I snuggle into his side. “We are not naming him fucking Aegon” I tell him finally realizing what he said. “On that we agree” Daemon says with a chuckle.

[lanabuckybarnes]

𝗪𝗲’𝗹𝗹 𝗠𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗔𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 | 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Bucky Barnes x Baker Reader (F) 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: War, Feelings, Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of Death — Any more let me know 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.1K 𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: So, another potential series hehe. I felt like my long term boy deserved his own lil thing and I’ve been thinking of an idea like this. I’m not sure when I’ll update this series, hopefully as much as I can but updates will be here and there. 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀: @boybandbaby, @chimchoom, @moon-light1928, @noellez-best-life23, @samodivaa, @kulteule, @zunigabarnes — Let me know if you would liked to be tagged!!!

The diner is filled to the gunnels when Bucky arrives, papers in one hand, his hat sat askew on his head. She never noticed him at first, too busy jotting down the order of an elderly couple in the farthest booth.

Poppy was gorgeous, eyelashes batting against soft blushed cheeks, teeth peeking out beneath painted pink lips. She laughs at the charming older gentlemen’s words, some joke about the beans giving him wind last time. His wife bats him with her handkerchief, tossing a glare his way with some choice words. She doesn’t mind though. With a final rundown on their order, she gives them a time estimate and turns, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of him.

“B-Bucky,” she stutters, kitten heels clicking slowly as she inches closer to him. His attire has her almost fearful, like cornered prey staring at bared canines. She’s almost wary of passing him to get to the counter, her eyes darting over the glass door searching for a way out. A way out of what? Bucky suspected it was the conversation they were about to have.

“You like it, doll?” He smiles, his lips wobbling unnaturally. She wasn’t stupid and Bucky wore his heart on his sleeve, he was scared yet put on a brave face.

“You…you look nice.” She responds, brushing past him. Even the fabric against her bare arms is foreign; it’s scratchy and stiff, nothing like the man she knew.

“You don’t like it.”

She hums, stacking empty glasses onto a circular tray. Bucky steps over, helping her like he usually would.

“It’s not that I don't like it…” she looks him up and down again. He does look rather handsome but that green colour is ingrained in her mind. She watches men Bucky’s age and younger come and go wearing the same uniform. Not many of them were returning on those massive ships parked up by the dock. At the thought of Bucky being one of the unlucky ones, tears pool at her waterline. She turns before he has the chance to see her so upset.

“Poppy,” he coos, a large hand falling onto the small of her back. “You and I both know what this means, I don't want to spend the last night in have with you wallowing over things that won't happen.”

Poppy’s head shoots up, eyes fogged in disbelief “last night?”

He nods solemnly, “I ship for England tomorrow.” He says softly, capturing her hand in his.

“Please come with me tonight, I want to spend my evening with you.”

She’d overheard Bucky speaking with Steve about a science fair he was excited to attend. It wasn’t exactly her cup of tea but if it were what Bucky wanted she would do it. She would do anything for him.

After her shift Poppy spent a small amount of time freshening up, mind still unrested since Bucky’s words at the diner. Just a few hours ago, at the start of her shift, tomorrow felt like it was taking its time. Now she felt the hours ticking by almost like minutes. Soon the sun would set and rise again on a new day, one where she would say goodbye to her one and only. Perhaps for the last time.

Bucky picked her up from her front door, arm bent at the elbow so she could loop her own around it. Steve followed not far behind, an oversized tan coat protecting his slender frame from the chill of the evening air. Speaking of which, it was something she had neglected to remember when she opted for the short-sleeved dress. Bucky drops her arm for a second, fiddling with the gleaming belt and buttons before shrugging it off his shoulders.

His hands come around but she stops them before they drape the coat over his shoulders. The thought of the fabric around her is nauseating, she didn't want anything to do with the omen of death, yet Bucky’s fond smile and twinkling ocean eyes have her feeling guilty for ever rejecting such an offer.

“Thank you.” She says sincerely, nuzzling her nose into the coat.

“Pleasures all mine princess…besides, you look good in my clothes.”

The way Bucky’s eyes rove down her body sends shivers down her spine and a hot flush to her cheeks. He kisses her gently, thumb soothing over her cheek, when he parts he chuckles.

“Oops”

“What?” She sputters, mind still fuzzy from the kiss. He had a tendency to do that to her.

“I smudged your makeup,” his thumb and forefinger hook her chin, tilting her head into the dim street light. The apology thick on his tongue is dispelled by a huffing Steve, piercing blue eyes honing in on Bucky from over Poppy’s shoulder.

Right. Science fair first. Unfortunately.

The salted waves batter against the battleship grey ship, lathering its port side in white. Despite the rising sun glimmering atop the rolls of blue there is a chill to the air, one that bites at the creamy skin of Bucky’s nose tinting it a rouge shade.

“Sergeant Mayflower.” A voice calls out from the longboat, like a fog horn over the rumble of men murmuring their prayers and promises before setting foot onto the boat with seemingly no return. Bucky’s heart lurches every time the stout Captain barks out a name, his voice billowing out in a misty form.

He isn’t ready to go, no one is, as soon as their names are called they know where they’re off to, they know what they must do — it doesn’t matter what the papers say when every time a ship comes to collect it also drops off. Mountains of bodies wrapped only in sheets to protect the eyes of their innocent families, for the ones still alive? Death may have been an easier fate.

The men he’s exchanged a few words with today each hold that same dull look in their eyes, fear that’d been hidden deep below the surface to appear strong. Another name called, the crowd of men let out a small sigh but nothing could cover a woman’s wail from behind them.

“My boy!!” The greying lady sinks to the floor, clutching her equally as shaken husband. The young recruit, barely eighteen turns, huge helmet swivelling atop his head. He’s too small for war, he reminds Bucky of Steve. After much fuss from his mother, the boy's fate is sealed as he steps onto that ship, becoming lost in the sea of green and brown.

He feels sick, a lump of fear and sadness claws at his trachea as he thinks of who also stands not even a foot away; He clings to a small hand, squeezing it tightly. Poppy squeezes back.

“Sergeant Barnes.”

His world closes in on itself, his heart stopping its rapid pace in an instant.

“Bucky.” Poppy’s voice brings him back again. Her hands rest on either side of his cold cheeks, thumbs brushing at tears he didn’t know he’d spilt. He topples into her arms, pulling her up off her feet till he could feel the thump of her heart over his jacket. His name sounds over the crowd again but he is lost in the glossy sea of her eyes.

“I will come back.” He asserts, a warm promise against her full lips.

“I know.” She whispers, voice hoarse.

“I will.” He seals his words with his lip on hers, giving her love that his words could not portray. He would come back to her, he had to. He had no one else but her.

“Save a drink for me,” he forces a smile onto his face, cupping her cheek.

“Whiskey?” She laughs brokenly, using her free hand to swipe away her tears.

“Always.”

With a final squeeze, he lets go, sifting through the crowd of wide-eyed men. His foot sets onto the plank resting on the docks when he looks back — she’s there, putting on a brave face for him. He waves mouthing his love for her. She does the same before turning on her heel and leaving him.

The streets of New York blared with life, not unlike 70 years ago but the sounds had changed. Sirens wailed a few blocks away, plane engines whirred above the looming skyscrapers. All of it both comforted and overwhelmed Bucky.

He brushes past a mob of tourists taking photos of the iconic yellow taxis, his eyes flicker back down to his phone. The address Tony had sent him wasn’t too far now, a sharp left and a jog across the busy road, eyes peeled for cops trying to stop his jaywalking, and he was at a cute building.

The outside stood out, sage walls and frames bold against the bland shops surrounding it. A worn welcome mat rested beneath his feet, a remanence of little flowers on a hill in the corners. The door squeaked lightly on its hinges as he entered, and above him, a bell tinged alerting the minimal patrons of a new customer - not that they cared, their noses in books.

They were all elderly, or rather, his age. A man with thin grey hair and a hunched form tucked himself away into the farthest booth from the windows, a coffee steaming on the table and his weathered copy of ‘Jane Eyre’ clutched between bending fingers. Peculiar read for a man of his age but who was Bucky to judge when he’d also found himself enamoured by the text.

Two elderly ladies sit nearby too, crumbs of a sweet dessert on their plate and gossiping amongst themselves. He makes his way up to the counter, gazing freely at the freshly baked muffins and cookies. His mouth waters at the scent coming from the kitchen, mind fluttering back to the times he’d find himself baking goods with Poppy; flour in his hair and melted chocolate over his cheeks and around his lips.

Why was he thinking of her now? It had been a long time since Poppy had entered his mind. Before he has the time to wallow in the old fuzzy memories a voice calls out.

“Stark!” You bum the back door open, pale green boxes piled so high it was impossible to see making you rely on muscle memory only. The boxes hit the counter with a dull thud and you let out s breath of relief, the last thing you wanted to do was remake those cinnamon buns.

“You must be here for these.” You smile politely at the man in front of you but he stands rigid. You aren’t the best at reading people but you can tell he’s alarmed; brows arched high and eyes wide, his chest heaves with pants as though he’s run a marathon but he isn’t sweating. In fact, his skin is pale, ghost-like against the black leather coat he wears.

Whatever comes to Bucky’s mind as a response doesn’t make it out of his mouth. He’s shocked, feet bolted to the floor.

Poppy. His mind screams. The girl in front of him was Poppy. His eyes roamed over your face, from the twinkle in your eyes to the slope of your nose, the cut of your lips - you looked just like her, even down to the way you smiled. His fingers itched by his sides, nerve endings begging to reach out and caress your cheek like he’d wanted ever since becoming Bucky again.

For a long time after his therapy at Wakanda, everything in his body longed for the love of his life. He knew it was impossible, she was surely dead by now. Yet she—you stood there, staring at him with an awkward tug to your lips. Shit! He’d been staring too long.

“H-hello?” You begin to question yourself under his piercing eyes. Was he here for the order? Was he even here? Come to think of it were you even here? You did have that close shave with the car earlier on…

The man before you clears his throat, shock schooled from his face impressively - he now looks bored rather than terrified. “This is all his?”

“Yep,” you shake your head, smiling so wide your cheeks burn.

“Ok, good…well thank you.” He offers you an awkward smile of his own, his arms reaching out to pick up the boxes with ease. He turns without a word, using his fingers to open the door just enough to kick it open with his foot.

You watch him through the windows as he darts off in a blur of black. When your mind finally clears you still, cursing under your breath. He never paid.

[onceuponastory]

shopping spree

Plot: To fully enter the modern world, Bucky decides to switch up his wardrobe first, starting with some jeans. Unfortunately, he has no idea where to start with all the new trends and styles... but the sales assistant Y/N is more than happy to help. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader sort of Warnings: A few mentions of Bucky feeling like a man out of time and out of his depth. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: So I saw an anon on @anothersebastianblog mention that they wanted to see Bucky shopping for skinny jeans, and it gave me some inspo, so here we are! Also I wrote most on this on the bus to work after being up since 4am so....sorry if it makes 0 sense

Bucky stands with his arms crossed, jaw clenched. This is a nightmare. He should never have done this. Ever since he got his life back, he’s decided to try to fit in more, rather than being seen as an Avenger for the rest of his life. And since Sam constantly brings up his ‘dark and depressing’ wardrobe, his first step will be to make a change by updating his clothes. Starting with jeans.

Initially, it sounded like a great idea. But now, he’s completely lost, and doesn’t know where to start.

In front of him, various styles and colours are displayed. Ones that flare slightly at the bottom that look like something he saw in the 70s, more loose fits, and ones that look so tight, he would need to be cut out of them.

And are those…holes?

“Why the hell are they selling these things half finished?” Bucky grunts to himself.

Where is he even going to start?

How is he even going to start?

Maybe he should’ve just got Sam to show him online, or stuck with what he knows, what he’s comfortable with. This was a terrible idea and-

“Can I help you find something?” A voice asks, cutting through his stream of thoughts. 

Bucky turns to see a sales assistant smiling at him. But it’s not an overly fake smile like someone desperate for a sale. No, she seems like she genuinely wants to help him.

And for the first time that day, Bucky Barnes can relax.

“Yes, please. I’m a little lost.” He admits, his gaze flickering to the floor so he doesn’t see her reaction. Despite his big, tough and grumpy exterior… all Bucky wants is to feel like he belongs. Even though he’s an Avenger, he has never felt more lost and out of place. After being a man out of time for decades, placed in and out of cryosleep, he’s completely oblivious to what the modern world is like nowadays. And of course, being blipped didn’t help either. “I just don’t know what’s cool with the kids nowadays.” He sighs.

Y/N frowns. This man doesn’t even look that old, probably mid thirties. Definitely not old enough to say something like that. But he does look lost, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bad for him. 

He is very cute though - with gorgeous silvery blue eyes, his short brown hair and stubble. She can also see muscles straining through his shirt, despite the jacket and…gloves? It’s enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, that depends.” She begins. “Nowadays, it’s more what you want to wear, rather than what’s ’cool with the kids’.” She chuckles. 

For a moment, Bucky frowns, expecting to be the butt of the joke. Instead, it’s the opposite. She’s laughing with him, making him feel comfortable. Bucky smiles, something in his gut fluttering.

“Thanks…” he glances at her name tag. “Y/N. I’m Bucky.”

“I love the way he says my name. And he has a lovely smile.” Y/N thinks. “Well, Bucky, I’ll show you our most popular styles and we can go from there.” Bucky nods. “Any colour ideas?”

“Black.” He answers quickly. Y/N nods. 

“A man after my own heart.” Bucky smiles. He wonders what it’d be like to know her in real life, outside of her job. To have a friend, one who isn’t an Avenger. A regular, normal civilian.

But just as he thinks that, has one moment of hope, it’s quickly squashed by his anxiety. “She’s just being polite to help you. She probably doesn’t even care about you that much. Nobody does.”

“You okay?” Y/N asks softly, bringing him back down to earth once again. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He lies. This poor sales assistant definitely doesn’t get paid enough to hear all his woes.

Y/N nods, pulling out the first pair of jeans. “These are slightly baggy, and they’re really comfortable.” She says. “What do you think?”

“Uh….” He murmurs, still feeling completely out of his depth. “Maybe not yet.”

Next, a pair of skinny jeans. “It’s entirely up to you,” Y/N insists. “but these are definitely our most popular, and they’re always in fashion.”

“And they’re not… too skinny?” Bucky asks. Y/N shakes her head. 

“Nope, they’re nice and comfy.”

Honestly, the more Bucky thinks about it, the more he trusts Y/N and her judgment. So, he nods, and she adds them to the pile. 

She pulls out another pair, one with rips all over the legs. Bucky frowns. “Those aren’t even finished! They’re destroyed.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No! That’s the style. Very…rock and roll, I guess?”

“You’re serious? People wear jeans like this?”

“Deadly.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Not for me.”

“I think you’d suit them.” She admits, smiling. “Maybe not as many…extreme rips, but we have ones with just rips at the knees.” She suggests, holding up a pair. “It’s entirely up to you.”

Bucky frowns, thinking it over. Originally, it was a hard no. But Y/N does recommend them, and Sam said to try new things. And they don’t look that bad.

“Okay. Just cause I trust you.” He says, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Y/N’s grin widens, a sight that sets him off too. “Aw, thanks Bucky.”

~ * ~

“Ready?” Y/N asks, leaning against the changing room wall.

“Almost!” Bucky calls. The door opens, and he steps out. He’s in a pair of basic black skinny jeans.

“How are they? How do you feel?”

“I feel…great!” Bucky grins, staring at himself in the mirror. He looks so happy, so confident, that Y/N can’t help but smile just as wide as him. 

He turns, admiring the way he looks. Y/N can’t help but let her eyes drift lower. His ass looks incredible in the jeans, and she can’t help but feel her cheeks heating up. He’s gorgeous. “What do you think?” Bucky asks, oblivious to her staring.

Or at least she hopes he is.

“Y-Yeah.” She stammers. “You look incredible.”

~ * ~

After trying on all his picks, Bucky and Y/N go to pay. “Thank you so much for this.” Bucky says. “You really helped me feel a lot more comfortable and confident with this whole thing.”

“Not at all.” She chuckles. “It was my pleasure.”

Y/N rings up his jeans, and Bucky watches her. Maybe he could ask if they want to hang sometime? No, that’s creepy. She’s just doing her job, not flirting. She doesn’t even feel the same about him.

“Can I get your number?” She smiles. Bucky goes red. Or maybe she does feel the same.

“I mean, we just met, but if you wanna…..” He stammers, pulling out his phone. Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh, not like that.” She gasps quickly. Immediately, Bucky's heart sinks. “I just mean it’s for our rewards program. When you give us your phone number, you receive points each time you shop. After a while, you get a discount. It’s a good deal.”

Right then, Bucky wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh! Oh, I-I mean…sure.” His skin is burning with embarrassment now, and he can’t wait to pay and get this over with.

Despite the second hand embarrassment flowing through her veins, the look on Bucky’s face makes Y/N’s face soften.

Honestly, she would give him her number. He may be just a customer, but there’s something different about him, something that seems to pull her closer to him.

“There you go.” Bucky quickly pays and takes the bag, ready to get out of here and home to Alpine. As he walks away, Y/N sighs. “Bye, Bucky.”

~ * ~

Later that day, Bucky takes out his new jeans. Alpine curls up in the empty shopping bag, swatting at the receipt. “Hey!” Bucky chuckles, pulling it away. “That’s not yours, buddy.”

As he lifts it up to put it away, trying to dodge his cat’s claws, Bucky spots something. A note is scribbled on the back of the receipt: 

Hope to see you again soon, Bucky. If you ever need style advice, you know where to find me. Y/N :)

Bucky grins, placing the receipt down.

He was looking for some new t-shirts, funnily enough.

~ * ~

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[ireadwithmyears]

How each member of the bad batch would be with a visually impaired significant other (short imagine’s/headcannons

Word count: 5.4K

Pairings: the bad batch ex female reader (individual)

Tags/warnings: some are suggestive, mostly domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries

note: look, it’s the epitome of self indulgence. I wrote this solely because I’m blind, and have never seen these ideas discussed when it comes to our beloved boys. However, I recognize that the majority of people reading this will not have shared this experience, so this is why I am adding a disclaimer/reminder to tell you that blindness is a spectrum, and the majority of us have at least a degree of useable vision left, so that is why I continue to use visual language/descriptors like look or watching. That being said, I hope you enjoy these, I had so much fun writing them, and if you have an idea for a specific scenario so I can do more of these, or another particular clone who isn’t a member of the batch, please let me know, and I would be happy to write more

Hunter🩷 

Hunter is the best at planning dates when it comes to keeping your accessibility and comfort in mind. 

If he wants to take you out somewhere, he’ll always go and scope it out beforehand, analyzing things that might not make it an enjoyable experience for you. I.e. if the lighting is too low and will obscure any of your remaining vision. If the music is too loud and will make it hard for you to effectively communicate with him. He knows that both of these things, especially when they’re working in tandem, can make you feel on edge and anxious, and that’s the last thing he wants you to feel when he’s taking you out on a date.

He will always ask the establishment about things like accessible or braille menus, or, if you happen to have a guide dog, seating that will have the space to accommodate and be comfortable for all of you.

If the menu isn’t accessible for you, he will always give you a heads up beforehand, using his datapad to pull up the menu on the holonet so that he can help you familiarize yourself with it, and you can decide what you want before you get there, taking a lot of the stress and pressure off of you because you don’t have to rush.

He wants you to feel cherished, loved, and safe when you’re out and about with him. So if you are going somewhere that’s particularly busy or crowded, he will also adapt himself. 

He’ll keep you close, whether it’s with your arm tucked securely in the crook of his elbow to guide you around, or his hand gently placed on the small of your back, letting it rest there so that you know he’s right there with you.

He never plans on getting separated from you, but if, by some unforeseen circumstance, it happens by accident, he has a plan for that too. 

If you’ve got remaining vision that is useable, he will intentionally wear bright, contrasting colours to make him easier to spot, even when he’s a distance away. 

If you don’t have any remaining vision, he’ll wear something like keys that jingle, or an article of jewellery that makes a distinct sound as he walks so that you can tell when he’s approaching. 

Regardless, every time you go on a night out, he will take the time to describe his appearance to you in detail, his general physical description, what he’s wearing, so that if, for some reason, you do get separated, you know how best to describe him to someone, so that they can locate him for you and help you make your way back to him

His enhanced senses have become innately attuned to your normal patterns and rhythms, and if he notices any rapid fluctuation or change be it with your breathing or heart rate, indicating that the environment you’re in is causing you stress, he’s whisking you away, taking you back home, despite any of your protests. He knows you’re just fighting him because you feel guilty about potentially messing up the night, which you absolutely are not.

He will not let you feel that way for long, because when you’re home, he is determined to make you feel like the beautiful, treasured, and wanted human being that you are.

He orders your favourite takeout food. He’ll lie you down on your bed, surrounding you with soft blankets and pillows, gently and tenderly beginning to caress and massage the tension from your tensed up shoulders and back, partly because he feels like he might have inadvertently been the cause of it being there in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” you try to apologize. “I know you really wanted to...”

“Shh,” he quiets your apology, a hand coming up to softly brush a finger against your lips, resting his forehead against yours gently. “Meshla,” he breathes, unable to help the small smirk of amusement that pulls at the corners of his mouth as he observes, taking note of your breath audibly catching in the back of your throat as his finger, slow and slightly teasing, begins to lightly trace the edge of your bottom lip.

He presses his lips to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss as he affirms, “this is all I want,” he breathes in a whisper close to your ear that immediately has your whole body erupting in goosebumps.

“You,” he continues, his voice a low, husky rumble against your neck as his lips press, warm and deliberate, directly where your pulse flutters beneath them, pulling a soft, yet audible gasp out of you, that makes his lips curve up into a smile that you can feel against the skin of your neck.  “Are all I want.” 

He spends the rest of the night taking his time to prove that to you, in every way that he knows how.

*

Tech🩷

He takes note of every single bruise you get on your legs from bumping into shit all the time. 

You’re blind, it’s just an occupational hazard. You might not even notice that you have one, but he certainly does, and he’ll take care to notify you of every time you accumulate a new mark in your collection.

“There is a bruise directly above your left knee,” he observes, gentle fingers tracing over the mark with a soft frown marring his features. 

He naturally has picked up on using the language that is most helpful to describe the location of something visual to you. You didn’t even have to ask the first time you were on hands and knees on the floor, feeling around for one of your shoes. He didn’t point, and say “it’s over there,” which is just instinctive habit for most people. Instead, he had a used more specific directives like “behind you, on a slight diagonal to your right.”

“How did this happen,” he asks softly now, placing your hand directly on top of the blossoming mark on your leg.

You give him a half shrug and a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” you admit, honestly puzzled. “It happens all the time.”

From then on, he observes you closely, quickly coming to the realization that there are things that are just harder for you to look out for, and, just as quickly, doing his best to rectify each one. He’s easily able to identify a pattern of cause and effect that lead to your many bruises, bumps, and small every day accidents, and rather than being over bearing and cautious with you, he just figures out a way to remove the root of each problem entirely.

Each step on the Marauder’s gangway is suddenly marked with a long strip of brightly coloured tape at each edge, so that you can more confidently move down the steps without having to fumble to find the edge with your foot.

Low sitting caf tables in the middle of the living room, with sharp, jagged corners jutting out are suddenly pushed up against the wall, so that you don’t have to be careful while stepping around them, trying not to hit your leg off of one of them.

He makes sure that any overhead cupboards in the kitchen that are hard for you to notice until your head is colliding with their open doors, are kept securely shut, recalling a particular incident when, whilst putting away dishes, your head had caught on one of the cupboard doors, large bump blossoming on your forehead, just barely missing your eye. He had frowned, gently holding an ice pack to the swelling bump, deciding that from now then on, he would put any of the dishes away that needed to go on the top shelves. He wouldn’t budge on this, even when you tried to argue.

“Cyar,” he had said, voice stern, even as he gently took you by both of your shoulders. “I understand your need to be able to do things independently, and I respect it greatly. But, as much as you can make a light about getting bruises on your legs from these little incidents. Your head is much too important to apply that same lightness to, and I will not compromise on that so please, let me do this for you.” he had leaned down, barely brushing his lips over the bump on your head in a caring, affectionate gesture, and that had made your resolve completely crumble.

He’s also hyper aware of your systems and ways of organizing things, and it has become a habit for him to make sure that it is maintained. 

Shampoo and conditioner bottles that look almost identical with exception to the labels that isn’t much help to you are always set in a specific order for you to find in the shower. You always leave things like your wallet and your cane in the same place, and if anyone messes with these orders, it can really throw you off.

If anyone does touch or move any of your things, regardless of how insignificant, without telling you first, Tech will find out, and, especially if it’s one of his brothers, will thoroughly scold them for it, ensuring that they understand why somethings so small could be really frustrating and disorienting for you, and makes sure that they never do it again.

If you read braille, this man learns it for fun one day on a whim, and he doesn’t even tell you about it.

He’ll put away your groceries for you one day, and then you’ll be searching for something like a dinner ingredient, and find that he’s attached a braille label to the box, with completely correct use of the six dots that form the language.

When you confront him with it, he only shrugs, adjusting his goggles with a slightly confused expression.

“You sound surprised,” he observes with one raised eyebrow. “In a practical sense, this was a logical solution,” he continues, clearly unfazed by your display of shock.

“That’s not fair,” you pout, leaning against the counter and folding your arms. “If you’re going to learn braille, then you at least need to teach me some Mandoa,” you challenge.

“I was not aware that you were interested in the subject. But that is an agreeable request. What would you like to know?” He asks, looking at you questioningly.

“Like,” you bite your lip, considering, tilting your head in curiosity. “What’s that word that you always call me?” You ask. “It starts with an S? I think? Or maybe a C...c cyar?” You say, suddenly uncertain and cringing at your own pronunciation.

He straightens, suddenly grateful that you’re unable to see the blush that’s crept into his cheeks as he answers evenly. 

“Ah, yes, the word that you were saying is correct. Cyar... it means, love... or beloved,” he answers, voice going soft as he catches your hand in his, almost absently pressing his lips to the back of your knuckles briefly as you stare at him, surprised.

“You ... you love me?” You ask, hopeful and voice clearly bewildered. The smile that pulls at the corners of your lips lights up the whole room. 

Both eyebrows arch as he looks down at you, because now he’s the one who’s confused. When he responds, his voice is far less confident and sure than it usually is. It holds almost a shy, completely uncharacteristic timidness, which conveys the genuine honesty in his words when he speaks.

“Well ...cyar. of course I do. I thought it was obvious.”

*

Echo🩷 

Echo, unlike most people, understands all the aches and pains, mental and physical, that come with being disabled.

He’s sat with you on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the cool linoleum of one of the tiles on the wall after a concert. You had come home to find your head throbbing from the after affects of being surrounded by a combination of extremely loud music, a screaming crowd, and strobe lights that made you wish that you didn’t have any remaining vision at all. 

Your eyes were shut tightly, and  your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude when, with his one functioning hand, Echo, movements slow and meticulous, carefully began to undo your hair from the tight updo it had been forced into all night. There he sat, fingers so, so gentle as they ran through your hair, undoing the tangles and soothing away some of the tight ache that had gathered at the back of your head. 

He’s careful to stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt the little bit of peace that you had found. The only thing that fell from his lips were gentle breaths and soft murmurs of “oh, sweetness, s’okay,” lips pressing the lightest kisses to your flushed cheek, the side of your aching forehead, until the painkillers had finally, finally kicked in.

If you’re a cane user, he always has his eyes peeled for the little bumps and cracks along the sidewalk.

He’s seen what happens when the tip gets caught in one of them, when the handle inevitably jabs against your stomach or ribs and the immediate discomfort on your face that follows.

He also sees the bruises that are left there afterwards, and as much as he loves gently pressing his lips to each of them, reassuring you that he’ll kiss them better, he’d rather them just not be there in the first place.

So, he always watches out for them, giving you an ample warning on ones that your cane could get caught in so that you can move it out of the way. 

He takes you to a holofilm, and you both don’t realize that it’s not available with audio description until you’re in your seats and the headset doesn’t work. He immediately turns to you, giving you a reassuring smile and offering his hand, saying “We can leave, if you want. If you’re not going to get anything out of this, we can go, and we’ll find something else to do.”

You decide to stick it out, rationalizing that you’ll still be able to get something out of the film, if not the whole story, and besides, he can catch you up on parts you didn’t understand after it’s over. 

In the end, it’s still worth it for you.  

You finish half of a bag of popcorn before commercials are even over. You’re intrigued by the movie for almost half of it, and then finally, you spend the rest of it passed out with your head resting on Echo’s shoulder, only for him to wake you, slightly chagrined, when the credits are rolling.

When you’re out of the theater, you walk together hand in hand down the street. He apologizes profusely, saying that he should have done more research. You try to laugh it off to reassure him that it was fine, because you just had one of the best naps of your life in that theater. When it’s clear that that doesn’t help, you’re turning to him, sighing with a small frown.

“Echo,” you say with a small shake of your head. “I’m the one who should be sorry, not you, love.” At his look of bewilderment, you continue. “You do so much for me already, and I’m just so, so grateful for that. It’s not always something I feel like I can repay you for.” You look away, ashamed. 

Because it’s true. He has his own set of issues and lingering problems from the injuries he sustained at the citadel. You can encourage him to do things like his physiotherapy exercises that ensures that his cybernetics are working in tandem with his body. But you can’t actually help him with them, whether it be with making modifications or repairs. It sometimes makes you feel a bit useless, because he helps you so much and you feel like you can only help him so little, and you feel like you’re just adding to his already overflowing plate sometimes.

“I know there could be easier people for you to be with,” you confess, voice quiet.

Echo stops dead at the street corner, catching your wrist to stop you from moving forward, and turning to fully face you with his brow creased in a frown.  

“Oh, Cyar’ika,” he says, voice soft, reaching out a hand to tilt your head up so that you’re looking at him. “Now who put that idea in your head, ner kar’ta?” he whispers, gazing down at you with pursed lips.

Unexpected tears spring to your eyes at his gentle tone. The truth is that you can’t place this feeling on a singular person, though people have contributed to it. Family members have made comments in passing, strangers who look at the two of you and immediately begin to judge from there own preconceived notions and outside opinions. It’s society at large, who has made you feel like your blindness is a burden to the ones you love. 

You don’t know how to say that, though. So you remain silent as Echo leans down, dropping a lingering kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “I don’t need you to make my life easier, cyar. You make my life meaningful, and that, to me, is more important. 

He rests his forehead against yours, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. “Your needs don’t make you a burden, cyar’ika. I want you to remember that. I want to make sure that they are always being met. It’s the least I can do, you understand?”

All you can do is nod, your heart in your throat. 

The next time you go see a holofilm with him, and the audio description isn’t available, Echo is prepared this time.

He still offers to leave, but when you refuse, he has a plan. In his own time, and on the occasions when you both have been watching something at home, he always makes sure the described video settings are on, for your benefit, and when he’s alone, for his.

He’s observed closely, listening and carefully paying attention to how the narrator’s go about describing things. So, when the movie starts, he leans over to you, keeping his voice low and quiet, beginning to describe to you what’s happening onscreen, careful to never interrupt any dialogue.

You stare at him, more than a little surprised. “Echo, are you going to do this for the whole film?” You ask, caught off guard and delighted all at once.

He gives you a quick nod. “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Now, be quiet and let me do it.”

True to his word, he does, staying close to you and keeping his voice quiet, so as not to disturb anyone around you. If someone still tries to shush him or gives him a dirty look for talking in the theater, he glares at them, in only the way that Echo can, until they stop.

This time, you stay awake during the whole film, watching intently, and listening to echos every word as he is meticulous in describing the visual things that you’re missing. In spite of all of the things that are different in comparison to your last date, one thing still remains the same.

You still finish the movie with your head resting on his broad shoulder, and he still looks at you like you’re the centre of his world.

*

Wrecker🩷 

The first time you make a blind joke about yourself in front of him, he’s terrified. 

Instinctively, he starts laughing, but then, registering your words, he immediately cuts himself off, not wanting to offend you, and is concerned that you’re being mean to yourself, which he will not allow. 

When you only snort at his reaction, playfully nudging him and explaining how it’s fine, because you have to make fun of the things that you are unable to change, and how it’s actually a mark of self love if you have the ability to laugh at yourself, slowly, he begins to understand. 

Soon enough, he not only readily laughs at your self deprecating humour and blind jokes, but at one point, he ends up slipping out one of his own before he can stop himself.

Again, he’s immediately apologetic and regretting his words, but when you throw back your head and laugh heartily, he feels a little less insecure and soon enough, you both have the ability to crack blind jokes with each other without missing a beat, to everyone else’s chagrin and fond amusement. 

He decides that having the ability to make you laugh, getting to watch your eyes sparkle with amusement and hearing the sounds of your joy is music to his ears, and is one of his favourite things. 

Wrecker is your number one protector. Not in a toxic, over protective way.

Even though he’s only got one functioning  eye, chances are he’s still got more vision than you, so he’s taking it upon himself to be the working set in this relationship, meaning he’s always watching out for you.

If you’ve got a guide dog, the first time he encounters it, he might have gone to pet it, but, before he did, he sees the do not interact sign, and stops short, quickly pulling back and apologizing. 

He asks questions, just to make sure he understands why it’s important, and after you explain it, he fully respects the boundaries and never forgets them, to which you are immensely thankful.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so grateful for him just doing the decent thing, until you tell him that a lot of people understand that you’re not supposed to pet the dog, but will either do it anyways, thinking that if you can’t see them doing it and they do it silently, you won’t notice, or they’ll talk in a distracting way to the animal, which is sometimes worse, and equally as distracting for the dog to work through.

This angers him, that they would take advantage of your blindness in such a disrespectful manner, and because you’ve explicitly told him that distracting your dog could potentially put you in danger, under the right circumstances.

From then on, he’s always watching.

If someone is petting your dog while it’s working, or trying to distract it, he’s right there, towering over them and glaring with his arms crossed, not so subtly pointing at the do not pet sign until they back away, stuttering and flustered.

If a child runs up to pet it, he’ll much more gently intercept them, crouching down on the ground to quietly explain to them the rules. In your experience, children are often much more respectful than adults, and watching him interact so kindly with them melts your heart every time.

Wrecker is tall. Standing at 6 feet six, it makes him not the most ideal guiding companion.

If he’s guiding you himself, sometimes, unintentionally, his elbow might knock against your head, for which he is immediately aware of, and instantly apologetic. 

He will always stop, large hands gently cradling the sides of your face as he looks you over, worried that even the slightest bump from him could leave a bruise. Regardless of what he finds, though, he’ll always lean down, dropping a kiss to your forehead with a soft, “m sorry, meshla.”

His solution to this problem, however, is a tad bit unconventional. 

When confronted with a situation where it’s just more efficient for him to guide you, for example, a street blocked off by construction, taped off areas and pylons everywhere, instead of offering you something like his hand or his wrist to hold, he simply reaches down, scoops you up into his arms and carries you over his shoulder until you’ve both cleared the obstacles together, you letting out a surprised squeak and giggling all the while.

Wrecker finds you beautiful, every day, all the time, and he is constant with his reminders of that.

As a blind person, it can be more difficult to coordinate a whole outfit, look, hair, and make up. He is so appreciative, and loves if you do that. But, if you’re one of those blind people who never learned how to do make up, who isn’t as confident in their sense of personal style, and you feel a little bit self-conscious about how much, or how little, in your opinion, effort you put into your look when you’re going out on a date with him, he will quickly assuage your fears the minute he catches wind of them.

He’s very good at detecting those days where you’re not feeling good about your appearance, just intuitively sensing when you’re having a bit of an off day, and when you could use a reminder of how beautiful and precious you are to him. He knows he can’t magically change your mind.

But he can  tell you about all the things he finds attractive about you, every day, if you need that reminder.

He’ll tell you of each one, each part of you that he finds beautiful beyond belief, while taking the time to softly caress and kiss each one, with whispered affirmations of “Such a pretty little thing,” and “You’re perfect, cyar, absolutely perfect.”

And if that’s not enough, he’ll keep going, keep moving downwards until he can look up at your beautiful face, watching from in between your parted thighs as your lips form equally beautiful noises for him.

*

Crosshair🩷 

It isn’t that Crosshair doesn’t want to help you. It’s just that, honestly, he’s a little bit hesitant to, in the beginning, fearing that he might overstep, because he places such a high value on choice, and respects your independence and autonomy to much to question you and your abilities.

He trusts that, if you need his help, you’ll come to him and ask. He also trusts that you’ve been living with blindness for a long time, maybe even since birth, and you’re aware enough to know your boundaries and limits, trusting that you’ll advocate when you need him to help with one of those limits.

Just because he doesn’t help you as much in the physical sense, does not mean he isn’t your number one advocate, because he absolutely is. 

For example, if you’re a guide dog user, and you both are going out together using a ride sharing app. If the driver refuses to let you in they’re speeder because of your service dog, he will wait patiently for you to explain, analyzing every micro expression of the driver and knowing when they’re still not listening to you, and he will step in without hesitation.

Wearing his most menacing glare, and in a voice that is deadly calm, he will absolutely read them the riot act. He knows every law regarding your guide dog, and knows just how properly to phrase them in a way that will make the driver scared, usually when he mentions the 5000 credits fine they could be sued for not denying you access 

He’s also keeping his eyes out to make sure that no one distracts your dog, and isn’t afraid to directly confront anyone who tries, saying something snarky like, “You know, maybe you’re the one who needs a guide dog, if you can’t read the don’t pet me sign that’s right in front of your face,” paired with a signature eye roll.

They always back away stuttering, and it always makes you laugh, even as you gently rebuke him, saying “Cross, that was a bit rude.”

He scowls, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him as he responds.

“And you, sweet girl, are too nice,” he purrs lowly against your ear. But, with the way that he begins to nuzzle at your neck, you don’t really think it bothers him that much.

If you’re one of those blind people who feels like asking for help is just burdening other people with your problems, and would rather risk facing the consequences by trying to do something yourself, rather than ask for help, he will find out, and he will not be pleased in the slightest. 

Your stubbornness is something that he loves about you. But if it has a tendency to go too far, especially if you’re putting yourself in harms way, that adoration will quickly turn to frustration.

For example, one time, you both were staying at a place that had a glass topped stove. 

These things are so inaccessible for blind people, it’s not even funny. But rather than admit defeat and let him cook dinner, you decided that you could figure it out, and gave it your best shot. 

Your best shot ended with you trying to line up the pot with the burner, and very quickly, receiving a searing burn on your hand from touching the heat. 

You had not anticipated it getting that hot that fast , and as you quickly pull your hand away, tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you let out a pained hiss.

““what are you doing?”

He had materialized behind you from seemingly out of nowhere, voice a silky, yet tensed coil as he reaches around you carefully, quickly flicking off the burner before long, dextrous fingers wrap  around your wrist, still gentle, even as he insistently pulls your hand away from where you’ve been clutching it to your chest, eyes keenly examining the burn with a soft frown on his face.

Wordlessly, he guides you over to the kitchen sink, hand on the small of your back, turning the water on cold and carefully placing your injured hand beneath the stream. 

Only then does he come to stand in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, his expression hard as he looks down at you. 

“What were you thinking, cyar?” He grits out, voice almost a growl as he tries to understand. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I could have helped and prevented this,” he gestures to your hand. “From happening.”

You blame the trembling in your voice on the lingering throbbing ache in your hand.

“I’m s sorry. I I thought that I could figure it out. You were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you B because I’m scared that I burden you with all the help I need sometimes and.”

“Stop,” he cuts you off in one quick, decisive syllable, and you instantly fall silent.

He tilts your chin up with one hand, guiding your eyes to look at him. His lips form a thin line when he sees the glimmer of unshed tears there. When he next speaks, his voice is still firm, but there is an underlying gentleness and softening in his tone. It has lost its hard edge, and it’s protective bite.

“You are not a burden, to anyone, but especially to me.”

“But,” you try to interject, but he easily silences you, taking your face in both of his hands and cradling it gently.

“Shh, cyar, listen to me,” he says, his voice a quiet command.

“If you are a burden, then you are my burden. In the same way that I am yours.” He takes your uninjured hand in his, relaxing his fingers against yours,  allowing you to feel it’s tremors.

Oh.

It’s been so long since his hand has shaken like this. He’s worked so hard to try and work through this particular trauma, and though it hasn’t completely gone away, it only begins to tremble during moments of high stress. You flush with shame, realizing that this moment of high stress is completely on you.

“I know what you’re doing, and stop it,” he says, voice stern, squeezing your hand in a silent warning. “Look at me, cyar’ika,” he continues, voice softening.

When you do, he continues. “If we are each other’s burdens, then we take care of each other, together. Do you understand me?”

You nod, actually stunned into complete silence at his proclamation.

“Good,” he says, voice softening further. He leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, fingers gently caressing the side of your neck as he pulls back.

He gives you a playful nudge as he smirks.

“Don’t ever try something like that again, cyar,” he quips with a scowl. “Your eyes already don’t work, and if you lose one of your hands, you’re completely fucked.”

All the levity of the moment vanishes, and it ends with your face pulling into a smile, a soft laugh falling from your parted lips as he watches you, eyes filled with adoration.

[tervaneula]

u said leoichi drabble prompt request. consider. one injured and the other protecting them and then the injured one has to calm them down bc 'they're okay, really, promise, rest now'

OKAY SO this fused with a ghost of an idea I've had for a while and it ended up being a bit more serious than the prompt called for and a lot longer than just a drabble. (It's ~1120 words.) CW: blood and injury

Also I made a silly header thing I don't know what to do with, so I'm putting it here since this fic doesn't come with art of its own :'3

“Yui, I’m okay–” 

The rabbit turns his head to look at him, furious. 

“I heard your shell crack, Leonardo, and I'm not an idiot! Now stay down and let me handle this!” 

He falls quiet for a moment before redirecting his glare towards their adversary and then adds a muted, “Please.” 

There's no compromising with Yuichi in this state, apparently, and Leonardo stays right where he got crushed between metal claws and the concrete, splayed on the ground next to those very same claws which had gotten swiftly cut from the wrist for their transgressions.

He does roll onto his side to get his body weight off his shell, and yeah, alright, one or more of the old cracks that never healed properly must have split open again. It's tough to breathe and his back feels… His kimono is sticking to his shell and his back feels wet now that he's paying attention, and that. That is not good. 

Just his luck to run into a massive mecha wreaking havoc on an otherwise lovely day, huh. He wasn't even supposed to be on patrol and thus is embarrassingly swordless. 

Good thing that his date and their resident samurai always carries his. 

The slider watches as Yuichi does quick work of the metal hunk's wiring behind its knees, his frighteningly sharp katana slicing through the cables like butter. The mech falls with a ground-shaking rumble, unable to rise again, arm flailing as it tries to catch the rabbit. It's no use, Yuichi is much smaller and faster – and as soon as he reaches the mech's head, it's already rolling. The construct immediately loses power and Yuichi wrenches the windowed hatch in its chest open. Turns out there's no pilot, just a program-operated dashboard, and he makes sure that none of the controls are functional after he's done with them. 

Leonardo thinks he could watch Yuichi trash villains all day long, he's practically mesmerised by the strength hidden in that soft frame despite his shell throbbing unpleasantly in tandem with his heartbeat. He sighs, lovestruck. 

As his final move, Yuichi thrusts his katana into the heart of the mecha and Leonardo sees a spray of ink-black oil splash all over Yuichi's face and the front of his kimono. It makes him laugh and he realises his mistake too late, his lungs struggling to draw breath again as he finally gets hit with the pain, his body trying to stop him from moving; from causing any more damage. Shit, shit, shit. 

He had hoped he wouldn’t need to bother any of his brothers today since he was supposed to spend the whole day with Yuichi but he knows to pick his battles, now. He opens the comm link embedded in his prosthetic, contacting someone who he knows will pick up. 

“Che~ello!” comes the cheerful answer in just a few seconds, and Leonardo can't help but smile. 

“Mikeyyy, hermano, I'm in a bit of a pickle,” he wheezes, feeling the shift in his little brother's energy as soon as he hears the strain in his voice. 

“Leo? Are you okay?” 

“Not really, no,” Leonardo grunts. “Got into a scuffle with some big haywire robot– don’t worry, that’s taken care of. I suspect Donnie will want to scrap it for parts. Um. My shell’s– my shell’s cracked though.” 

Leonardo can vividly imagine the colour draining from Michelangelo's face and it would be funny if he wasn't acutely aware of a broken shell coming with the very real possibility of his innards turning into outnards. 

“I'm calling Draxy. Stay put, I'll get Lee to pick you up.” 

“Right,” Leonardo sighs, the line going out just when Yuichi is finally done with the mech and rushing to his side, face haphazardly wiped from oil. His gaze is sharp as he kneels next to him, sweaty and out of breath, and Leonardo thinks he looks like a knight. Or maybe like a samurai of the old, in this case. 

“There’s my hero,” he coos before Yuichi can get a word out and the rabbit’s brow furrows. 

“Don’t start,” he snaps but his tone softens almost immediately, “I saw you calling someone. It’s bad, isn’t it? It… it looks really bad.” 

“Yeeeah, this kimono is definitely ruined,” Leonardo laments, “unless you know how to, gh, get blood out of corduroy? No? Or the obi?” 

Yuichi stares. 

“A– a shame, really, I did like this one a lot–” 

“Leonardo!” Yuichi interrupts him and grabs his bicep, looking two seconds away from crying. Leonardo frowns. He knows he’s getting a little delirious but he was sincerely trying his best to lift his mate’s mood. 

“Leon, please, you’re rambling. Is someone coming? Can I do anything?” 

“‘m not rambling,” Leonardo grumbles, hissing when he fills his lungs again. “Leo’s coming to get us, Draxy– Draxum will treat the shell. And no, better keep the obi in place until we get to the medbay.” 

Yuichi’s shoulders slump and he sighs, most likely relieved that he’s not going to have to figure out how to deal with a cracked shell. Leonardo does not like the lingering worry in Yuichi’s gaze one bit, though, and he offers him a grin. It’s a little shaky but whatever. 

“Heeey, bunbun. Listen. This is nothing I haven’t been through before. I’ll be fine.” 

Yuichi gives him an honest-to-God kicked-puppy look and Leonardo thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen in his life. He almost tells him so but Yuichi cups his cheek and his forced grin melts away into surprised silence. 

“I hate seeing you hurt,” Yuichi murmurs, leaning down to press his forehead against Leonardo’s. The slider’s eyes flutter shut and he lifts his hand to hold onto Yuichi’s wrist. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I mean it. I should’ve been more careful.” 

Yuichi huffs and leans away to gently bump their foreheads together. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“Maybe, but ’m still sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Yuichi says, exasperated. “You should know that at this point, I’ll always worry.” 

Leonardo grins and this time it’s genuine. Breathing in his partner’s scent is like a balm to him, even if it’s tinged with the bitterness of motor oil, even if his body currently thinks that breathing is overrated. Even if he just got called an idiot by none other than said partner. 

“Raincheck on the date?” he mumbles, and finally he gets a chuckle out of the rabbit. Yuichi straightens his back and flicks him on the nose. 

“Like you even needed to ask. Idiot.” 

Before Leonardo can express his displeasure of being called an idiot for a second time there’s the familiar electric hum of a portal opening behind him, and someone whistles. 

“Sheesh, old man. That kimono is definitely ruined.” 

[fictoculus]

hi! i was wondering if you could do wanderer, tighnari, childe, heizou, and maybe thoma with a reader who suffers from like severe depression? like they have no motivation to do anything and they’re always tired and sad and all of that depression stuff (i put that really mildly but i think you get my gist). and maybe if possible could you include that like, the reader is always helping other people and never helps themself because they don’t think they deserve it?

i’m sorry if this is too heavy a request. no pressure and no worries if you don’t want to do it!

౨ৎ no matter how alone you feel, i am always here...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... wanderer/kuni, tighnari, childe, heizou

A/N... hellooo, thank you so much for this request, i'd be more than happy to write this for you! i'm so sorry but i had to remove thoma from the mix as i couldn't come up with any ideas for himmm. also also i apologise if childe's section is super ooc, i really struggle writing for him, but this is good practice! i did include other mental health related topics that can link to depression as i wanted to try and connect with as many people as possible. this does not mean i expect you to be suffering from those things, and in no way do you have to in order to be suffering from depression. if you are, that's ok too ♡

WARNINGS... self harm (heizou), depression, injury, home-neglect/"depression home" (childe), suicidal thoughts (tighnari), references to derealisation (wanderer/kuni), swearing

✧ wanderer.

♪ wanderer, can be harsh, and has proven to have quite the tough exterior. that doesn't mean he loves you any less. and so, when he found out how you'd really been feeling, and that you'd been having to put up with it alone? he was absolutely heartbroken.

♪ you had forced yourself to get out of bed that morning, feeling almost limp as you stumbled down the stairs. nothing felt real. nothing felt like it mattered.

"morni- are you ok?" tear stains ran down your cheeks, your eyelashes still damp and your eyes bloodshot. the tip of your nose was a soft shade of pink, and the colour of your lips was slightly more vibrant than usual. "have you been crying?"

♪ it would have been one of the only times his shell completely shattered, leaving his interior exposed as he cried; not for you, but with you. the two of you wouldn't have said a word, but instead just sat wrapped around each other, in silence.

♪ with anyone else, he would've been embarrassed. being seen crying was not something many would expect of the wanderer; but it was you. you were hurting, you needed him, and so he wasn't afraid to be vulnerable around you if that's what it takes.

"shhhh, i know, i know... i'm sorry" wanderer, or kuni as you call him, was cradling you in his arms, rocking from side to side and burying his face in your hair. he was trying his best to keep himself together, using your scent to ground himself. "stop- please" tears threatened to spill as you broke apart right in front of him, squirming in his arms, but he refused to let you go. his grip only tightened, pulling your back further into him until you finally stopped thrashing, only to break down into tears. you felt him tremble against your back, his arms shaking slightly as his own tears began to dampen your hair.

♪ he'd known something was off about you, but he had confidence in your strength, you're one of the strongest people he's ever known, after all; but he often fails to realise that everyone can be weak sometimes, and that is one of the beauties of life.

♪ leaving you to handle things alone seemed like the best solution to wanderer; your mind needed the time to rest, to give itself a kickstart and power on like usual... but, oh, how he was wrong.

♪ probably the last thing you needed was to be alone, whether you knew it or not. you needed him; his voice, his gentle touch, his loving kisses, his words - however harsh they may sometimes be.

"it's hard work loving me, isn't it? you... you don't deserve to have to live like this, kuni" "don't say that, it's all work worth doing... you deserve the world, [name], and so much more, more than i could ever give you, got that?" his words carry meaning, so much more than a poem, a song, a kiss. they're unwavering, deeply engraved into the forefront of your mind the moment they slip from his lips. "i'll do this a hundred times if i have to, i don't care. i will still love you all the same, ok? i know i don't say it a lot, but nothing can ever change that, and that's a fact."

♪ he'd hug you until the sun goes down, taking your hand in his own and slowly guiding you to the bedroom once the time to rest arose. physical touch is a love language of his, since he often struggles with his words, and so he cuddled you through the night, instinctively squeezing you just a little tighter than usual.

"i will never leave you, [name]... no matter how alone you feel, i am always here"

✧ tighnari.

♪ tighnari has been out on a trip to aaru village for a few days now - planning to observe how different species of plants grow in different climates - leaving you alone in gandharva ville to watch over collei while he's gone. you do love collei, but sometimes she can be... a bit hard to handle; often getting herself into trouble. it's a lot to deal with, especially with that peculiar numbness which has been dragging you down for weeks now...

♪ unexpectedly, your lover had come home early from his trip; there had been some sort of 'incident' in aaru village which was to remain confidential, even tighnari didn't know the details.

♪ he'd half expected to find you in the kitchen, having lunch with collei, or perhaps reading that book you were obsessed with (which now fails to peak your interest), but instead he finds you curled up in bed, trembling.

"love?" "... nari? y- you're back?" you replied, your voice woven with surprise yet you couldn't bring yourself to show him your face.

♪ concerned, he sat on the edge of the bed, positioning himself so that he was facing the lump which he assumed was you. you shuffled, the sheets rustling as you tried to get closer to him, finding his presence alone comforting.

"are you ok, darling?" "hm? yeah, yeah i'm- i'm ok, i'm good" "would you look at me? i haven't seen you in so long, i want to see the beautiful face of yours"

♪ smart, that's what he was, smart and cunning. he already knew you were crying the moment he stepped into this house, his sensitive ears picking up your sniffles and broken sobs. he wanted to comfort you, to be there for you, maybe (definetely) even hold you, but how was he meant to if you hide yourself away from him?

♪ reluctantly, you turned to face him, showing him your teary eyes but hiding the rest of your face under the bed covers. he reached out and pulled them away from you, leaning down to kiss your nose softly and giving you a weak smile. a couple tears began to fall down your cheeks, but he kissed them away too, trying his bst to show just how much he loves you

"what's the matter, hun? what's been bothering you?" you take a deep breath; this is it, your chance, your chance to tell him everything, to finally confide in him. "things have been hard you know... having to take care of collei, running errands, just- everything, all while having this aching numbness in my chest..." "numbness? love, what do you mean?" "i don't know... it sounds silly i-" he jumps to interrupt you, to reassure you and show how patient he's willing to be with you. he never wants you to dismiss your feelings; he takes your wellbeing very seriously. "no, no it really doesn't, i'm just trying to wrap my head around everything that's all" "are you sure? we don't have to talk about it if-" "no, darling, i'm sure" "ok, well... it's just been lonely, and it's really hurting... i just wish everything would end"

♪ tighnari felt his heart shatter in that moment; you wanted it to end? the love of his life, the one most precious to him, has gotten to the point where they want to completely give up, and it breaks him.

♪ he slowly lowers himself down on top of you, wrapping his arms around you waist and rolling the two of you over so that you were ontop of him, cradling you in his arms and - unbeknownst to you - silently crying with you.

♪ the two of you just lay there in eachothers arms, refusing to let go of the other, tangled together under the covers. it must have been a couple hours before tighnari broke the silence, deciding that you'd had long enough to reflect and attempt to calm yourself down.

"[name], listen to me... no matter how alone you feel, i am always here, ok? i love you so much, and i'm sorry you've had to go through this alone. i will help you, i'm fighting with you now""you don't have to promise me anything, just... please consider coming to me whenever you're thinking like this, ok?" "i will, thank you, nari... i love you"

✧ childe.

♪ both you and childe have a fairly packed schedule, running around liyue day in day out to keep people happy. your beloved seems almost completely unaffected, getting riled up at pesky customers being the worst of his worries, you - on the other hand - had an entirely different load.

♪ due to the fact that the two of you were so busy, you rarely got to see eachother, maybe brushing by eachother but only being able to share a kiss before one of you got dragged off to more business. so, you always made sure to make time for eachother, clearing out at least two days on your calendar (typically wednesdays and saturdays) to spend together, telling the other all the exciting or nerve-wracking things you had encountered in the week

♪ however, what childe doesn't know is that you'd been off the job for almost a month now, spending your days in your own home, stuck in bed despite the voice deep in the back of your mind willing you to get up...

"honey, you home? you kept me waiting you know..." no response... little did he know, you were cursing under your breath; it's wednesday. you paced your room in panic before stopping in front of the mirror, gripping at your hair when you saw your reflection. you practically slammed yourself forward, hands now on the mirror as you traced your reflection's 'imperfections'. you were completely lost in your own head, too lost, in fact, to notice you were the only thing keeping the mirror from crashing down, the already loose screws falling to the floor as soon as you applied pressure. "fuck!!" you yelled, the glass shattering all over your floor, luckily not digging into your skin, but you didn't come out completely unscathed, a couple scratches ;iterring your hands and legs. "love? [name]?! open the door! are you ok?!" he shouts, pounding on your front door, the entirety of liyue must have been able to hear him. "don't come in!! please, just wait, i'll be right there! i'm ok! just please-"

♪ without waiting another moment and completely dismissing your pleas - due to pure concern - he unlocks your door with the key you gave him, walking into your apartment but finding it almost unrecognisable. it was a mess; clothes strewn across the floor, garbage piling up on the kitchen table and beside your bedroom door.

"[name]? hun, what's going on?" you could hear the concern weighing his voice down, it becoming lower and scratchier as he approaches your bedroom. "ah- i told you not to come in!"

♪ he pushes your door open, only to freeze in the doorway when he caught sight of you, greasy hair tangled into a nest-like structure, dark circles making your eyes pop.

"holy shit!! what in teyvat happened? are- are you ok!?" his eyes are wide, hands shaking as he approaches you slowly, holding your shoulders as he scanned you up and down. "archons, what happened... love, is there something going on? is someone hurting you? has someone done something? talk to me! please i just-"

♪ the whole situation was more than just overwhelming; being stood in a ring of shattered glass, exhausted, embarassed, the whole package.

♪ naturally, you began to tear up, lowering yourself down until your were squatting, holding your head in you hands and sobbing, all while childe stood and watched; he didn't know what to do.

♪ he'd never seen you like this before, so vulnerable, so afraid, so hurt; and it hurt him too. carefully, he swept away the glass with his foot, creating a path for you to 'escape' safely and into his arms, which you did; slamming yourself into him and burying your face in his chest.

"i- i'm sorry, i'm so sorry i forgot and- and my place is a mess and i'm- i'm a mess and, archons- childe... childe, i'm falling apart" "shhhh, you're ok, i'm here now, ok? just breath for me, love" "it- it's just so hard, y'know? alone... i'm so alone, i- i can't do this alone, fuck i'm sorry, i just- it feels like i'm losing control of myself; i can't even think straight anymore and i feel so dazed all the time and... i'm lonely, e- even though i'm surrounded by so many people, i'm so lonely"

♪ he let's you talk, not daring to interrupt you, just listening to you, holding you close and stroking your arm in an attempt to reassure you. only when you stop talking does he pull away, peppering your face in loving kisses before planting an especially sweet one on your lips.

"honey, stop, i'm all gross and-" "i don't care"

♪ and he shows you that he doesn't, kissing you again and again; your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your lips, everywhere. he has so much love for you, and he just keeps on giving. he doesn't care if you don't think you deserve it, if you don't think he should have to 'deal with you'; he gives it to you regardless, and that's something you can't help but love about him.

"no matter how alone you feel, i am always here, understand? i love you, [name], and i care about you, more than anything; more than my job, the fatui, mora, the list goes on. nothing is more important to me than you, and i'm not ashamed to say it. i am the one who doesn't deserve you, i'm blessed to even know you, nevermind have the privilige of loving you. so accept it, please, take my love, my heart, my everything; all my being is here for you." "archons, i love you, childe" "i love you, [name]"

(big ass dramatic speech for our drama queen) (rest assured, he meant every word)

✧ heizou.

♪ the man is a detective, so he quite quickly caught on, but was hesitant to mention it, bringing it up jokingly only for you to completely dismiss it. heizou could tell by the look in your eyes alone that something was seriously wrong; the old sparkle being replaced by a dull void. nevertheless, he would still get lost in your eyes, but feel as if he were falling down a bottomless pit; it was like he could feel what you were feeling, see what you were seeing, and it hurt.

♪ he'd be returning home from a long day of detective work, uncovering clues and deciphering codes to find missing persons, his eyelids dropping as he locked the front door behind him

"honey, i'm home!" he calls out, knowing well how cheesy the phrase was, and using that to his advantage, wanting the first thing he sees after a long day on the job to be your smile. "love?" after hearing no response - not even the shuffling of your slippers against the wooden floorboards - he grew concerned, eyebrows furrowing as he began to wonder: "where could they be?"

♪ someone coming after you must be his most dreaded nightmare; a thought that haunts him late at night, though thankfully the sight of you sleeping soundly next to him always seems to calm him, but this time you aren't there... you aren't there beside him to comfort him, to show him you're safe, to prove to him you aren't hurt. the poor man is stood in the entryway of your shared home, eyes wide and scanning the coat hooks for any missing coats, or the shoe rack for any easy-access pairs you may have grabbed if you were faced with the need to run.

♪ merely thinking about a criminal exploiting heizou's soft spot for you as revenge for proving them guilty sent chills down his spine, the thought of you being hurt scaring you more than anything ever could, even more than some of his worst cases.

"calm down, heizou, they're probably fine" he reassures himself, trying to keep calm and prevent himself from thinking (or acting) irrationally. finally stepping into the front room, heizou's eyes switch from doorway to doorway, trying to decide where you're most likely to be. watching tv in the living room? nope. cooking dinner in the kitchen? not there either. showering in the bathroom? still no. watering the plants in the back garden? this late at night? no way! sleeping in the bedroom? not quite...

♪ peeking through the crack in the bedroom door, he sees you sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over and unmoving. his first thought is to burst through the door and hug you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in relief... that is until his eyes recognise the red trickling down your thighs...

♪ you wanted to feel something, anything. an escape from this numbness was all you wanted, all you needed, yet it would slip from your grasp as soon as the pain subsided. it was unloving, unforgiving, cruel; leaving you alone once more, staring a hole into the blank spot of yours and heizou's bedroom wall.

"you thought i wouldn't notice, love? i am a detective, y'know..."

♪ yes, admittedly it wasn't the best choice of words, but in all honesty, he wasn't quite sure how to react. he pushed the door open, poking his head through first with a weak smile before opening it further and sliding through the gap. no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you could see his eyes welling up with tears, his bottom lip wavering as he looked you in the eyes.

"can... would it be ok if i come closer?" his gentle voice calls out, you can hear the sadness in your voice, and it hit your heart with a 'twang'. you nod meekly, reaching out your hand to grab a cloth and covering your leg, but he grabs your wrist to stop you "please, let me see?" "'zou... you don't need to help me" "[name], i want to help you, i'm choosing to do this... so please"

♪ at first you're doubtful, confused as to why anyone would want to give you this kind of help, especially heizou. not because you view him negatively, but because you could tell he was exhausted; being a detective is hard work, and has proven to be very draining.

♪ deep down you didn't think you deserved it. despite always being happy and willing to help others, nobody ever seems to want to return the favour, and so your frozen in shock - not pain - when he begins cleaning your wounds.

"do you maybe wanna talk about it?" he asks, looking up at you with kind eyes, showing you how genuine he was. whatever was bothering you, he wanted to know, he wanted to help, because you deserve his help. "... m- maybe later?" as much as you hate to dissapoint him, you can't bring yourself to even think about how you'd explain all this to heizou; not wanting to scare him or become 'one of his clients', though you know he would never treat you that way. "of course, whenever you need, love... you know i love you, right? and... and that no matter how alone you feel, i am always here" "i love you..."

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

☆ a little message i wanted to share... ( feel free to skip)

"i know some random person from the internet saying this may not help, but i want you to know that you are loved, you are cared for, whether you know it or not. there are billions of people on this planet, not one of us are the same, and so no one will ever really know how you're feeling, but that's ok. this is something you are going through and something you will get yourself out of. yes, it will take time, and it'll be hard, but i believe in you. nobody knows you better than yourself. if you think doing something, anything, will make you feel worse, don't do it. you know your boundaries better than anyone, no matter what other people say. take your time. of course, it's good to help others, but sometimes you'd be helping other people more if you took a second to take care of yourself. you do deserve it. please stay safe and take care of yourself. ily ♡"

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[dixons-sunshine]

Drawing Me | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

A/N: Requested by @caseylicious. I’m so sorry it took me years to get to this request of yours. I hope I did your idea some justice!

“Just taking notes, huh?”

At the sound of Scud’s voice, you looked up from the notebook in your hands and locked eyes with his cerulean-coloured ones. The man in question was hiding something behind his back, his lips tugged up in a slight smirk.

“Yeah?” you agreed in confusion, holding up the notebook in your hands for added emphasis, showing him the notes you had been taking regarding his weapons. “What else would I be doing?”

Scud shrugged and moved to sit down next to you on the table, his legs dangling off the surface. “Oh, I don’t know,” he began, bringing a book into view—more specifically, your sketchbook. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him open it up, not needing to go any further than the first page, a page which held a detailed sketch of the man himself. “Could you maybe be drawing me?”

Your heart started pounding in your chest. What could you possibly say to diffuse the situation? ‘Oh, sorry. I just find you incredibly adorable and cute and also very attractive so I had to draw you, multiple times’? There was absolutely nothing your mind could come up with at that moment that could make the situation better.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve asked you before I did that,” you began to frantically apologize, your eyes looking anywhere but at Scud. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll get rid of them. They’re not even that good. I’m so—”

“What the hell are you goin’ on about?” Scud interrupted you, a light laugh escaping from his chest. “These are great! I love them.” He began flipping through the pages, nearly each one of them containing a different drawing of him doing various activities: building gadgets, lounging on the couch, smoking a joint, playing video games. There was even one of them depicting him eating his beloved doughnuts. There was no denying, at least in Scud’s mind, that you were immensely talented. “I’m amazed that you managed to make me look even hotter than I already am. Hell, can I have these? I wanna show them off.”

You were at a loss for words. He... liked them? He wasn’t freaked out by you seemingly obsessively drawing him? What? “You like them?” you inquired in a quiet tone of voice, wiping the sweat that had formed on your hands away on your jeans.

Scud nodded with a huge smile. “Fuck yeah, I do.” Scud’s smile turned more genuine when you let out a light, surprised laugh, the sound warming his heart. He scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him, unknowingly making your heart speed up at the action. “You’re an amazing artist. I don’t know why you were so worried.”

“I thought you’d be freaked out by how many times I’ve drawn you,” you voiced, laying your head down on his shoulder. This was a normal occurrence for you. Scud was physical in your friendship. Hugs, cheek kisses, moments like these. It didn’t mean anything, did it?

Scud scoffed and rolled his eyes affectionately, squeezing your shoulder once. “Please. I don’t get scared off easily. Besides, I think it’s cute that you have a little crush on me.”

It was your turn to scoff, but in an attempt to hide your embarrassment at the fact that he was right about that. However, you wouldn’t tell him that. “In your dreams, Scuddy boy.” Scud chuckled. It fell silent for a few moments after that. However, when Scud spoke up again, you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

“Think you could draw me naked?”

“Now you’re just taking chances.”

“Can’t blame a man for tryin’.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Night Moves 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, stealing, crime, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The music hazes and the lights blur. You’re not drunk, you never drink much on your night out, only pretending to sip the cocktails men buy you. No, you’re mindless from the man beneath you. Your walls clench around him and you let out a moan. 

You’re achy from how long he’s been inside you. Still, he hasn’t cum. He stopped fucking you a while ago. He just keeps you on his lap, thrusting ever now and again to make you twitch. As you think of it, he does it and you brace the table to keep from keeling over. 

The coloured lights flash in a strange pattern and he tickles your sides. He leans forward, his head next to yours as his sultry breath speckles across your skin. He reaches between your legs and flicks your cunt. 

“Last call, sweetheart,” he eases you off of him and you whimper.  

He slides you onto the seat next to him and you whimper as he tucks himself into his briefs. You grab your purse and he reaches to grip your wrist. You gulp and look him in the eyes. They’re as blue as the ocean. 

“I didn’t say we’re done,” he lifts a brow, “don’t make me chase you.” 

He lets go and sits back, zips up, and buckles his belt. His chest rises and falls and he peers around confidently. He’s so damn brazen. He was buried inside you for at least an hour, sitting there balls deep, and he can only smirk. 

“Come on,” he stands and snaps his fingers. 

You stand and sidle out from behind the table. He quickly catches up to you as you face the thinning dance floor and slings his arm around your back. He walks you between the drunken bodies. 

“Am I under arrest?” You ask. 

“That wouldn’t be much fun,” he grits as he strides on. 

You’re quiet. You won’t push it. You still have hope you won’t be headed down to the station. You can’t afford the fine to get out, even after all you took that night. They’d confiscate it anyway. 

“What’s a girl like you doing lifting wallets?” He asks as you pass through the front doors into the cool night air.  

You scoff as your heels clack on the pavement, “gotta eat.” 

“Sure, sweetheart,” he hums, “look at you,” he does just that, glancing over, “any man would hand over his salary just for a night with you.” 

You snicker sardonically, “hah, you men... you all assume it’s so easy for women. That any one of us can just get by on our looks. You think this hair is free, this lip gloss?” 

“Sweetheart, I’m not assuming, I’m telling you,” he keeps you walking. 

“Sure, whatever, “ you shake your head. “You’re right, I’m gonna change my ways, sir, and find me a rich old man and let him fuck me til his heart gives out. Maybe then, I’ll get a taste of his fortune.” 

He chuckles and stops you by the curb, just beside a dark blue sportscar, “where do you live?” 

“What?” 

“Where do you live?” he asks slower. 

You blink, “Oxbury.” 

“How many rooms?” 

“Huh?” 

“Answer the questions.” 

You huff and look away, “it’s a bachelor loft. Everything’s in the same room.” 

“How much do you pay?” He prompts. 

“What does that matter? Are you going to arrest me or can I go?” 

“Sure, you can go after you answer my questions,” he insists. 

This is surreal. Only minutes ago he was inside you. You were shameless sitting on his dick and now he’s interrogating you about where you live. 

“Two grand. It’s a rip off but nothing’s cheap around here.” 

He narrows his eyes, nodding as he pokes the tip of his tongue out. 

“I’ll give you double. Just for tonight.” 

“I’m a thief, not a prostitute,” you frown. 

“That’s not what I’m...” his cheek dimples and his lashes flick, “not just tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll find you a new place. Something nicer. Something with big windows.” 

You shake your head in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“We’ll get you settled and when we come back here,” he steps closer and reaches around your neck to check the tag on your dress, “I’ll have you in Gucci.” 

You search his face as he steps back. He’s arrogant and certain. You’re not. You’ve been caught out and you can’t afford to say no. But what if you do? 

“Do I have a choice?” You voice your doubt. 

“Not really,” he exhales, “there’s two options; my place or the station.” 

You close your eyes and cringe. That’s about what you expected. You flutter your lashes open and wet your lips. 

“It wasn’t bad. We both know it wasn’t. I still got your cum on me,” he tugs at his belt, “and I’m backed up. You can’t leave me like this.” 

Your cheeks burn. As much as you want to say no, on principle, on what little pride you still have, he makes you tingle. You tried it with the wrong man but there’s something right about him too. You can’t remember the last time you orgasmed that wasn’t off something battery-powered. 

“How do I trust you?” 

“I could ask you the same,” he counters. “This isn’t trust, it’s convenient. You need money, you deserve money. Luxury. Girl like you, shit, whew, I’ll make sure you got everything those tricky hands could never steal. You just gotta keep me happy.” 

It still feels wrong. You’re still selling yourself. Yet, it isn’t exactly your worst option. Jail or sugar baby? It’s obvious but difficult nonetheless. 

“Do I have to say it out loud?” You ask. 

He grins, “well, I’d like to hear it. Come on, my ego needs it.” 

You arch your brow and cross your arms, “alright, I’ll do it. Deal.” 

[friskafriskito]

Charity Commissions 🇵🇸

Hello guys, it's been a while!

To cut to the chase: I would like to help spread both awareness and support for those suffering in the ongoing genocide in Palestine. So, in light of this, I will open up some commissions where rather than paying me, you simply provide proof of your donation.

I know this blog is mainly just for my art, but if I can use my art for any good I would like to do so. If you cannot donate, please reblog!

Here are some recommended links:

E-sims for Gaza: https://gazaesims.com  

Palestinian children’s relief fund: PCRF

Women for women (hygiene kits, blankets, food): Urgent Support for Women in Palestine Women for Women International

Anera dignity kits: https://www.anera.org/stories/gaza-emergency-aid-includes-dignity-kits/

A website for vetted fundraisers: https://gazafunds.com/all

But of course you can donate to any related organization and fundraiser you like, even if it’s not included here!

If you are Egyptian you can also donate to any of the organizations listed under the Instapay, Talabat, Fawry apps, or your bank app under their ‘donations’ services with the equivalent price in EGP (based on the bank rate). Just provide a screenshot.

For a written list of the prices, the do/don'ts, and so on, please look under the read-more for more details!

How Does this Work?

Send me the idea you have and I will let you know if it’s good to go or if it’s not appropriate (or if I can’t do it due to time/work)

When you get the okay, I will ask for more details (references, colour schemes, poses, which charity you plan to donate to, etc.)

I will draw you a basic thumbnail for your confirmation (these are very vague sketches to just pinpoint the pose).

Once you confirm the pose, I will ask you to donate and I will get to work

Send me a screenshot of the e-mail confirming your donation (blur out/colour over any personal info!), or the “Thank you for your donation!” screen if there is no e-mail

You get your drawing in exchange!

NOTE: I will likely post them on my artblog and Instagram, so if you don’t want them posted there or would like to remain anonymous, please let me know!

Also bear in mind I have a full-time job, so they might be a while! But you WILL get your commission.

HALF-BODY

$5-$9: Lineart $10-$14: Monotone $15-$19: Colours, flat $20-$24: Colours, shaded Above $25: Colours, shaded, with background

FULL-BODY

$10-$14: Lineart $15-$19: Monotone $20-$24: Colours, flat $25-$29: Colours, shaded Above $30: Colours, shaded, with background

Yes-es:

Fan art is fine (I won’t be getting any monetary profit from this)

Characters from original stories

Personas/self-inserts/fan characters/Tabletop RPG characters

Real!you, family members, friends, etc. (at the risk of them not looking like them at all :’D)

Animals (they might be a bit less cartoony as I'm not used to them but yes)

Personifications/anthropomorphic/strange creatures in general

Nos:

No discriminatory content

No religious figures, symbolism or content (I am Muslim so… Cannot Really Do That)

No extreme gore or suggestive themes, or characters from media that feature a lot of either (this is because my art blog is PG-13, and I’d rather not anything off-colour for a charity commission anyway)

No using these with AI or NFTs

Do not use for commercial purposes. These are for charity!

I reserve the right to decline your commission if I feel like you have insincere ulterior motives, or if an emergency comes up.

Generally, keep this PG-13/grandma-friendly!

Pleases:

References (preferably image based, but text is fine if there is no visual depiction/canon design)

Colour you associate with the character if monotone

Poses (just not lewd or rude)

Context (like description of their personality, what they like, their setting, etc.)

Ask first:

You are free to repost the artwork on another platform as long as you credit me as the artist. Absolutely use them if you need a picture for something like an RP account!

If from your original work, you may use them in non-commercial projects, just please credit me (and give me a heads up so I can go check it out! :D).

If an original character from an original story, you are free to use the artwork to help with things like visual development (let’s say, you are creating a game, comic or pilot, and you want a reference for the artists on your team to use), just once again give me a heads up and credit me as the artist.

If you've made it this far, and can't donate, thank you so much for your interest anyway. At the very least, this reached someone.

[anadiasmount]

limit - jude bellingham series.

quick sum: shy and innocent uni student by day but a notorious street racer at night, meets now currently best footballer jude bellingham under certain circumstances. what happens when these two are forced to get along, in order for them to get out of trouble? will they sacrifice their careers in order to protect themselves?

wc: 4.7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: hello! this is a request mixed with an idea i had. this is a small five-part series since I didn’t want to do a large fic. i really hope you enjoy since it’s a enemies to lovers, ‘she fell but he fell harder’, car girl! reader, and jude being somewhat cocky and mean but a huge teddy bear. pls note that i don’t condone any street racing or hectic driving! this series will have mature content so minors DNI 🔞. it will also contain other issues dealing with family domestic issues, mentions of being insecure, etc, but I'll place the warning then :) please enjoy chapter one, and let me know your thoughts! 🤍

“Now class I hate to stress this enough but you have to take exquisite and thorough notes. It will not only guide you but help and take you to the correct path for this course,” said Professor Alto. I felt like rolling my eyes and walking out of the lecture room, but instead, I just turned over and laughed with Marie, who was already staring at me. “He says that every class period, I'm starting to get annoyed because we’ve been taking this class for the past month,” Marie snickers.

“True but in all honesty he does have a point,” I raise my eyebrow and look back at the Professor who was now walking back and forth presenting the slides. “Shut up. We get it you’re smart,” Marie groans and pushes my shoulder, taking out some gum and then paying attention forward. “I'm sorry, I would like to run my own business one day, and this is where I have to start first.” This time I push her shoulder, and hear her mutter a ‘Yeah yeah whatever…’

I grabbed my bag and pulled out my notebook, took different coloured pens, and began to write down the slides, using other different coloured pens to write important texts and or highlights. It’s just girly things. We would be here for a while, as this lecture would take up to three hours, so I got comfortable. “What are you wearing tonight?” Marie whispered, leaning her head on my shoulder as she typed away.

“Probably something black,” I shrugged, “I might wear this new corset top and black jeans since I'm racing tonight.” Marie looked over at me with wide eyes, “But isn't your car still in the shop?”

“No, it got fully fixed two days ago, and tonight I wanna see if the new adjustments are working properly,” I say, taking a sip of water and rubbing my eyes as they feel dry. “Y/n are you sure that’s a good idea though? You just got your car back, and knowing how you race, especially after just getting it back can be dangerous. If something happens, all that work that was done would go to waste,” Marie stresses, and I notice that because she began to talk with her hands.

“I know the risks, trust me. But I need this money for me, my mom, and my little sister. I'm working two double shifts and if I win tonight, I'm set for the next two months. It won’t be an easy race, but at this point what more can I do?” I sigh and rub my temple, a small migraine wanting to form.

It wasn't easy anymore. It became harder when we had to move out of my dad’s place as he began to become a different and mad person. It wasn’t the environment I wanted to be involved in, let alone my mother and sister. It became especially harder when he came and did mass destruction on our property, and tried to hurt us. The night repeatedly lives in my head, the screams, the yelling, the smashing windows, the red and blue lights, it's hard to sleep as any time I close my eyes I just see him.

I always had a great relationship with him. We were close and happy. I grew up wanting to be him, and he always set examples and tried for us. He would do my hair, teach me how to cook his chocolate chip cookies, and even go on to show me how to play the piano. We spent every weekend working in his mechanic shop, working on dear old Darla for one day to be driven by me. The old black Ford was now ruined into pieces when he went crazy after discovering he would be arrested.

What changed in him to become that way, was the question I kept repeating over and over again. If the truth comes out one day, maybe we can be at peace. But for now, it's being cautious and assuring the safety of my family. I sacrificed a lot to be able to support us, as well as my mom. The car racing was something I randomly got into, my mom didn't like it, but in a way for me, I escaped reality.

The adrenaline rush. The speed. The rush overtakes my body. The determination to win as the prize in the end holds a lot of possession. Maybe even the idea of it being illegal also took a more motive of why not, as bad as it sounded. I became a hell of a driver, I was the best of the best, and some people took that personally.

The tracks and races became a second home to me. The ability to conduct and take charge of my own was truly an honour. For once, only I listened to myself instead of others. For once I could do something that made me happy, as much as it felt wrong to do. I met people, good and bad, and stayed away from the bad as they reminded me of my dad. A weekend like tonight started at the tracks but indeed by the city in the underground club Sahara.

I saved enough to buy myself a 2014 black Dodge Challenger. Slowly I made work by changing the motor from a V6 to a V8, running to almost 470 horsepower. The rims were also replaced with all black, and I added other features like a loud exhaust and a cold air intake system, just recently. This would’ve never been done if I didn't have Jimmy, an old friend of my dad’s. He never questioned what I did to my car, just wished me ‘good luck, and be careful’.

When my mom found out about my car, she threatened to kick me out. That same night I brought back $1,800 and left them on the table, muttering a quick “This is why I do what I do”. Since then she hasn’t questioned, just used the money for savings, groceries, and bills. I would of course help out, especially on bigger and expensive things, like Uni. Uni was expensive, and I sure as heck was lucky to afford what I could.

My first race was over a year ago, in the older tracks leaving Madrid. It was a secluded area only known to nearby residents, or people like me who raced, or those who went to live life a little. You could expect anyone there. I knew of this place after Marie and her girlfriend Kaia took me. My first race was that same night after a girl got pissed at me for accidentally bumping her shoulder with her boyfriend.

One thing led to another, and then you saw me at the finish line in Marie’s Grey Nissan Altima. That baby could run, period.

Part of me could say I also got addicted to how much money it would bring home. I didn't care if it was clean or dirty money, it met my needs, and I was grateful for it. Multiple people have gone against me but they can’t race like I can. There are tips and tricks to it, whether it is releasing the clutch early or letting the car struggle a bit before making the shift. Slow down or maybe speed up. You learn along the way.

My biggest rivals of them all were Jacey and Jacqueline. They made my life a living hell a week before finals. They insisted and threatened me to race them or else I would be kicked out and can’t ever place my foot on the tracks. They were the best anyone had seen, but I knew what they wanted. They were a part of a malicious gang in the northern part of Spain. If I won, I would be free and they were to never bother me, but if I lost I would do laundering and drug exchange.

I won that night, by some miracle. It turned out Jacey was racing unfairly and it didn't count as he had cheated. They would always go against me, and it became sort of a rival race whenever we did go against each other. Like tonight. Tonight would be a big night, it would be a packed race, and surely every young adult would be there.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re going against Jacqueline tonight? How could you have failed to tell me this?” Marie ran, her back across the wall as I got myself a redbull to survive the rest of the day. We had a 20-minute break, and now we were seated outside waiting to go back in.

“I didn’t know either, Max texted me this just a couple of hours ago,” I said, taking a sip of the energy drink. I pulled out my phone and showed her the message. “Well, I can see why you’re doing this then,” Marie points to the text of the amount of cash I could win. “What did you end up fixing in your car?”

“I did a bit of mostly everything. I added high-flow catalytic converters, high-flow mid pipes, high-flow fuel injectors, high-flow air induction systems, an upgraded header, and upgraded pulleys. Just newer stuff that the new challengers have nowadays,” I say, laughing at Marie's confused face staring back at me. “Well whatever you said, let’s hope it works out.”

“Trust me it will. Because you’ll be in the seat next to me to see” I smirked.

“Bitch no I am not, the fuck?” Marie gives me a puzzled look. I give her a look for using such profanity. I hated it, I didn't like such strong and hateful words, especially those that meant hurting someone's feelings. I never cursed, I just didn't see the fun or thrill of it, which shocked many.

“You are because you lost the bet last week. And Sheila is out of town. So better bring your mask and helmet,” I say, opening my iPad to get some studying done before my business class after this lecture. “Plus when have you ever turned down the opportunity to ride with me? I know you secretly love it,” I wink at her to which he just shakes her head and smirks.

“I'll do it, but only if you wear the black midi skirt I got you. As a matter of fact, I’ll ride with you only if you let me get you ready and get you sexy,” Marie says. I blush profusely and immediately shake my head no. I would rather die than be seen wearing anything more revealing than my boobs. I'm just too shy and not confident for it. I can’t rock outfits like Marie can.

“Funny but no. You know me, I am good with a revealing top and maybe some tight jeans,” I brushed her idea once again, but knowing how she could be, especially when she's a fashion major, it would be hard. “Either deal or no deal. You know you need me in order to race,” she tries to intimidate to which I finally agree. “I will make you the sexiest girl there. Who knows maybe you’ll be lucky and get laid,” she taunts, an evil grin on her lips.

“Marie!”

“Oh quit the act. We know you are shy and innocent, but you become a freak and a total show when you race. I'll see you tonight,” she winks and walks out, completely leaving the lecture.

—/— Jude’s Point of View —/—

After matches came recovery. And after recovery, it was either a day off or prepping for the next match. Luckily I had the gym area to myself, working with a physical trainer on my knee and doing a few exercises that were as much work. I just needed something to preoccupy my mind before I met with my publicist. It's not that I hated him, I just didn't tolerate such a person like him.

I dragged out this meeting as far as possible but knowing how he is, he wouldn't care. After briefly talking with the PT about a few stretches I could do at home, I walked down the cafeteria and met up with Eduardo, who invited lunch for the both of us. We sat down and just talked about the game plays and the upcoming international break.

Lunch went by quickly, now I found myself walking down the small hallway into the office that belonged to my publicist. I resented him even more for working at the training grounds. I would rather be anywhere else but here. I put myself together and walked into the office only for it to be empty. I just take a seat and go on my phone bored. When Jaime does walk in, he hangs up and opens the manilla folder, where stacks of papers are in.

“Jude you have to quit going out so much! Look at all these articles!” Jaime raised his voice and threw the printed papers onto the marble desk. I rolled my eyes and sunk into my chair, my legs naturally spread apart, as my hand came to my temple.

“Real Madrid’s new star boy stars on and off the pitch. Ancelotti’s new golden boy has a record similar to Grealish, could we expect to see the young player get involved in the same stuff? Oh, my favourite, Jude Bellingham is seen leaving the strip club after the place was recently investigated by local authorities!” Jaime read off the articles, leaning forward to slap the side of my head, when he noticed my unfazed look. “Okay, I get it! Shit!”

“No Jude you don’t get it! How many times have I told you this isn't England? You're in Spain. Dealing with both countries who are on your ass to find every single detail of you. They follow you around with a camera because you let them, you give them a reason too. It's already the fans doing it, but the paparazzi, no I won’t let that slide,”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do? I’ve done everything you’ve suggested me to do! I can’t stop them, or else I'll end up on the cover the next morning. I can’t just quit my fun, because of them. I deserve to have a nice evening with my friends and family, but they're always there!” I bite back.

Not even my mother keeps tabs on me like this man does. I appreciate Jaime, but it's moments like this where I want to get up and leave and do the opposite of what he tells me to do. He takes his job too seriously and overworks himself way too much. I can’t exactly be the person he wants me to be. I hate being driven around or being forced to be someone I'm not.

“We have no say and do on the paparazzi, you know that. But if you keep doing what you do, I'll have to get you a stricter PR contract, and I can assure you, it will be hell. You choose Jude. One more fuck up and it's the first text you’ll receive the next morning,” Jaime threatened.

“You can’t be serious. Jaime, I can’t be hidden away the entire time! I don’t give a shit about what they think of me! I'm focused on football and my family. I told you to let them be and write what they write!,” I say, standing up and grabbing my training bag to leave. “It's my job to protect your image as a person and footballer, Jude. And it will be like that. If you have such an issue, go ahead and fire me, but we both know what that will do for the both of us…”

“One more fuck up Jude, and you will see.” I scoff and walk out, slamming his door. The office workers jump in their seats, while I mumble out curses and insults towards him. Would he really go that far just to keep his job? Threaten my image for his self-satisfaction? Yes, he would. I sigh and scratch my chin impatiently, trying to come up with a different plan to avoid the PR contract he was talking about. But all I could do was come up with reasons and stuff to piss him off.

The idea of a PR stunt sounded stupid. Sure, I have had my share of scandals but nothing too serious like he dramatises. People just can't seem to stand the idea of no commitment, especially if it involves girls. They also couldn't stand the idea of a footballer wanting to go out and enjoy a night of themselves. Some people can be so unreasonable, like Jaime, I would say what I had to say, and I didn't care for anyone’s feelings especially if I spit out the truth.

“Yo! Hey Jude! What’s up? Looks like you got back from speaking with Carlo,” Eduardo comes up and dabs me up, teasing me for my stressed look. I chuckle, “Nah man. My publicist is pissing me off. Trying to tell me what to do and giving me shit about all these articles.”

“When will they learn,” he comments, his brow nudging to the obvious. “For the moment mine hasn't given me ‘advice’ or ‘warnings’ after our trip to South France.”

“Well lucky you. I just can’t stress about this shit right now. We have the upcoming important games, and I am determined to win. And if I do go out, he shouldn’t be up my ass about it every time,” I groan, taking out my phone and seeing a call from Aurélien. “Tchou, how can I help you?” I joke, referring to when he dealt with his situationship while on our trip to France.

“Ha ha, very funny. What are you up to tonight? We’re free tomorrow.”

“Probably nothing. Just walked out on my publicist, so If you have anything in mind to do, say it,” I put the phone on speaker so Eduardo could hear, and let him know. “Me and the guys were gonna head out the city to go to a car meet, out of Madrid,” he says. I give a look to Eduardo who just shrugs his shoulders not retaining the information.

“A car meet? Those exist here?”

“Yes, dumbass. You’d be surprised but, they're very fun. Although we shouldn't be there, it's the only place where people and paparazzi can’t recognize us. They treat each other and us like royalty, plus who wouldn’t mind some fun?” Aurélien says to us. I hesitate, only because of what just happened inside, but also the idea of it being illegal and caught. “You guys in or not?”

“Count me in.”

Jaime wouldn't know. And if Aurélien is saying we wouldn't be recognized, then why the fuck not? I'm not here to just pose for cameras and play. I'm also a regular person who deserves to live his life the way I want. Part of me thought of how bad this idea could be, but truthfully I didn’t give a shit, I just wanted to piss off Jaime. Aurélien advises us to dress nice since people who attended those car races often thought of them as fashion shows. Which is found myself calling the only girl who could help me out.

“Hey, Sunny? Sorry for the late call, could you help me out with an outfit for tonight? Just don't mention it to Jaime.”

—/— (Your Point of View) —/—

“Ok no- That’s like way too revealing! I couldn't pull that off” I brushed away the shortest skirt she found. “Nuh uh- No way. You're going to wear it, and it's going to be worn with these shoes and lace meshy top,” Marie comes behind me and puts both hangers to my front. “My whole butt is out in this skirt! People are gonna see my-” I waved with my hands to my lower region to which she snickers.

“Either you race or don’t,” Marie says, to which I just squint my eyes together. “Fine! I will at least pick out my jacket!” I pick up the clothes and quickly change into the pieces of clothes she gave me. My makeup was already done, a simple and not too heavy look since I had to wear a mask and helmet underneath while I raced. All I had to do was take my hair out of my rollers and apply some deodorant and jewellery and we could make the drive down.

Marie gasped as I walked out, clapping her hands excitedly as she approached me. “You look so fucking hot, I could make out with you!” Her hands roam and fix my skirt so they pull lower and hang around my hips. I give her a look but she quickly shrugs me. I go to the mirror and tug on both items. “I don't know whether to pull this up or or tug it down,” I say shuffling.

“Hurry! Fix your hair and put your boots on. You have a race to win!”

I pose for a selfie when I see Marie point her phone towards me, my hands on the steering wheel as I pull into the gravel road that heads to the main road to the tracks. Goosebumps raise my skin as I hear the music and loud car exhaust as we pull in. Other cars are doing donuts, which I find silly, or showing off their engines. “Hi Matty, how are ya tonight?” I ask the middle-aged man who sighs and hands me my racer number and time slot. He’s tired of his job, but just like everyone else here, he has his reasons. “Same old same old. I bet money on ya tonight, so you better win against that trashy girl Jacqueline,” he points out, handing me back the cashback after I paid. “Good luck tonight, make us proud!” he winks.

I smile and shift to one as I drive down to the start of the line. The tracks are old and kinda messy. They can shift from gravel to normal roads, which causes some drivers to lose focus. “Nervous for tonight?” Marie asks to which I nervously nod. “I mean it's against Jacqueline, we’ve had our shares in the past and she’s good,” I say.

“Yeah but not as good as you. Keep that in mind. Just think of the money, it will be your motive,” she says. We open the door and step out, I hear commotion and then look up to people cheering for me. I wave and thank them before walking over to our group who’s standing by the starting line. We all hug and chat about the race, which is filled with a lot of rivals going head to head.

I could feel my blood pumping as I watched the two Mustangs take out, their exhaust fumes following. The excitement you face also comes to anticipation as you watch which car will make it first to the end. The yellow Mustang wins by .4 seconds after they race for almost two minutes. I turn to the side when I hear my name being called, “Y/n, when are we gonna race?”

“As soon as you let me see what’s under your hood,” they scoff and walk off. It would've been too easy…

—/— (Jude’s Point of View) ---/—

The black LV suit was perfect for the occasion. Aurélien was right, people do dress as if they were attending fashion shows here. We all decided to go in two cars, making the almost forty-minute drive down to this closed-off restricted area. We followed the guide who led us up to the almost ‘VIP’ area.

The commotion was loud. People were either drinking, making out, or dancing. Or those who wanted to feel lucky, gambled money by playing poker. This truly did feel like a bad idea now, but I couldn't care less now that I was drinking a beer. We had clear and perfect views of the track, I was lucky to attend an F1 show in the past but this? This was completely different.

Fancy or new cars racing, and it was just the beginning. I talked with Eduardo for a good time as I observed the loud car go head to head towards the finish line. Music played loudly, but as Aurélien had said, no one recognized us. We step out and that’s when I notice the black challenger pull in. Two girls step out, but it's the driver who gets my attention. She chews gum and listens with boredom as they explain the rules to her.

My eyes roam down her slim and fit body, and I get a closer look when she quickly puts on her mask and helmet. I find myself not being able to look away, especially after she faces her opponent, ignoring their truce handshake. She’s too confident and now has my full attention.

Her windows are rolled down, her hand on the wheel, and the other is on the gear shift, patiently waiting for the light to turn green. “Who’s that?” I finally speak, completely forgetting I was in mid-conversation with Eduardo. “That’s Y/n in the black challenger. And in the red camaro is Jacqueline. They hate their guts, biggest rivals after Jacqueline's brother cheated on a race. Y/n, she’s the best of the best…” speaks a different guy. “Word on the street is that Jacqueline is involved in a gang, but who knows,” he says.

Y/n pulls out her thumb signalling she’s ready, and then quickly drives off when the light turns green. Just like the guy had said, she was the best of the best, quickly drifting and turning onto the tracks. Her car was faster than the red camaro, and you could tell the determination to win was there. I just waited for it to go the other way.

Soon yelling and commotion started when Jacqueline caught up, and took the lead, Y/n just maintained her speed and control as before. “What is she doing? She’ll lose if she doesn't catch up!” said another guy. I furrowed my brows and crossed my arms, looking back at the two cars on the race track. I didn’t understand how this worked, but it looked like not even I could make those turns, especially at those speeds.

Everyone gasped or oohed when the camaro lost control and failed to do the sharp tight turn correctly, cheering when Y/n went back to the lead and quickly made it to the finish line. We walked down to the starting line where she got out, and put her hands up, and cheered. She took her helmet and mask off, and that's when I truly was drawn to her facial features. “Bro? You’re drooling,” Brahim joked to which I just pushed his shoulder.

The crowd went quiet as the red camero pulled in, an angry Jacqueline and passenger getting off to confront Y/n. “You cheated!” she points at her to which the girl wearing all black just snorted and chuckled, “No babes. You just suck. I won, just like the other times before. Now go whine somewhere else and leave us alone for once.”

Her eyes connected with mine, and it felt like time just slowly flew by. Her lips parted, as she took me in, her hand holding the helmet and now stack of cash. She looked away and shyly smiled towards her friends, them congratulating her. She would nod then and there and only stick with those friends. “I’ll be back. Going to congratulate the winner,” I say and smile at Eduardo who wishes me luck. I don't need luck I'm Jude Bellingham.

I was determined to know more about her. Who she was, and why she raced especially. But before I could introduce myself, a loud bang and glass shattering prevented me from doing so. The last I saw while we ran was Y/n getting into her car and driving away. A loud car pulled near us, the familiar face and eyes locking with mine.

“Hurry! Get in!”

---/--- ( author's note) ---/---

hiiiii! first chapter eeekkkk! I hope you all enjoyed it and didn't think this was too long! I truly enjoyed writing this, and can't wait for you guys to read the rest. I'm also praying this doesn't flop or I'll be really upset... have an amazing day!

[galaxiasgreen]

🐣🌱Stuck

Uncle!Ominis shenanigans with minor Ominis/Reader [T-Rated, 1.9k words]

“You owe me for this.” He spits onto the grass. “Next time we play poker, I promise to let you win.” “Oh please. Your poker face is so appalling even I can see when you’re lying."

In the middle of the night, Ominis wakes to his panicked Muggle brother-in-law Connor, whose son James is mysteriously stuck to the ceiling…

Or, Uncle!Ominis attempts to help his Muggle-born nephew.

[read on AO3]

A/N: This is just a silly drabble idea I had. Set in the same universe as ACVAS with Reader implied as Gibby, but can be read standalone. Enjoy. <3

The rock at the window wakes Ominis with a start.

It can’t be later than three o’clock in the morning, and he feels the darkness surround him – you, snoring softly to his left, the utter silence of the world outside, the chill of nightfall along his skin. He rolls over to face you and buries his nose into your hair, thinking he must’ve imagined the noise.

Clack. His eyes wrench open again. There is definitely something wrong.

Cursing softly, he slips out of bed and retrieves his wand. With a quick Revealing charm, he senses the body on the street outside, their hand wound back to toss another rock. It hits the window again before clattering into the gutter. A foolish child, maybe? Only they would think it wise to disturb his sleep.

He throws on a dressing gown and slippers and tiptoes downstairs. Hopefully his own children don’t rouse with the noise; it takes you several hours to get them to calm down and sleep. Another pebble hits the house’s wall just as Ominis clenches his wand and opens the side door.

“Ominis! Thank the Lord. Thought I’d have to break into the house.”

Confusion colours his annoyance. That’s not some kid – it’s his Muggle brother-in-law, Connor.

“Are you aware it’s the middle of the bloody night?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Connor sounds… panicked? “Is my sister—?”

“Fast asleep. Something I would also like to be.”

He swears softly. “All right, you’ll have to do.” He claps his hand. “I need your help.”

“I gathered.”

“It’s my son, James, he…” He swallows. “He’s stuck to the ceiling.”

“So? Get him down.”

“No, Om, he… he’s stuck. As in, I try to pull him down and he just... floats back up…”

Oh.

Ah.

Connor audibly winces. “I’m trying not to panic, but since you and my sister are the resident, erm, supernatural experts I figured I should come to you before calling the fire brigade.”

Ominis massages his head. “How did you even discover this?”

“He knocked on my wall. I thought it was something clattering through the pipes – went to investigate, there he was, suspended mid-air.” He bounces between his heels. “So can you do your vanishing thingamabob and take us there? Please. He’s utterly terrified right now, and I had to leave him alone to come here.”

What are the chances that Connor’s son, Ominis’ nephew-in-law, has developed magic? It does run in your family – you’re a witch, after all – but for the gene to reappear in the next generation on your brother’s side? The likelihood is incredibly low. His own children have been raised in a magical household, but he has no experience with Muggle children developing magic. Certainly you would be the wiser choice to navigate this situation delicately, but he doesn’t want to disturb you, not when you get so little sleep anyway.

Resigning to losing the night, Ominis sighs. “Fine.”

He decides it best not to give Connor any Apparition warning – he’s probably in too much of a state to take anything in – so he snatches his arms and Apparates them to the back garden of Connor’s house. Connor stumbles out of his grip and nearly wretches.

“Good God, some warning, man…”

“You owe me for this.”

He spits onto the grass. “Next time we play poker, I promise to let you win.”

“Oh please. Your poker face is so appalling even I can see when you’re lying.”

“… Touché.”

Ominis gestures for him to lead the way, and Connor pads up to the terrace house. In this area of London the air is muskier, sweetened by the industrial fumes of nearby factories, and Ominis hopes none of his neighbours happened to be peeking outside their windows when they both magically appeared in the garden.

“Keep quiet,” Connor warns as he unlocks the back door. “Matilda doesn’t know.”

Ominis baulks. “You haven’t told your wife?”

“Of course not, she doesn’t know diddly-squat about magic! Would lose her marbles if she caught James on the ceiling.” He swallows. “I hope she’s still asleep. Maybe James has woken her with all his wailing.”

They creep through the house to the highest floor, and when Connor softly announces that he’s coming in, Ominis braces himself for screaming and crying.

“Hi, Uncle Om!” chirrups nine-year-old James. “What’re you doing here?”

The room is small, befitting the eaves of the house. James has somehow managed to nestle himself where the two slants meet above. The skylight is ajar, letting in a gush of a night breeze.

Connor shuts the door behind. “How are you feeling, James? I know, I know, you’re absolutely terrified—”

“I’m fine.”

“— but I’ve brought your uncle to help get you down.”

James makes a confused noise. “How’re you gonna’ help, Uncle Om?”

Ominis purses his lips. He’s not actually sure yet. “How long have you been floating?”

“About an hour now.”

“Are you upside-down?”

“Nope, horizontal.”

That’s good. At least there won’t be poor blood flow. “What were you doing when you realised you were floating?”

“Erm, asleep?”

“Did you dream?”

“I dreamt about flying.”

Ah, that explains it.

“So?” says Connor desperately. “How bad is it?”

“Not bad,” says Ominis. “Just last week, my daughter set her bed on fire, and she’s only two. It’s rather common for… children like us, to develop it this way.”

“Flossie did what?” asks James.

“I suppose I should feel grateful that this is considered normal,” says Connor with a moan. “Please get him down. Quietly.”

“A simple spell should fix this.” Ominis finally reveals his wand from his pocket – it’s a strange sensation when he’s been vigilant about hiding it for so long. “Now, don’t panic, James—”

“Not panicking.”

“— but I’m going to do something that will help get you down. Brace yourself to land.” He nocks his wand. “Finite Incantatum.”

Silence.

“… Was that supposed to do something?” asks James, still floating.

“Hmm,” says Ominis, “that usually works.”

“Well, it didn’t,” hisses Connor. “Come on. You’re a wizard, Ominis—”

“Wicked,” says James.

“— so you’re supposed to be able to fix these things instantly!”

Ominis scowls. “Possessing magic is not the be all end all to every problem.” He flicks his wand down. “Descendo.”

Silence.

“Magic is real?” asks James, awed.

“Just brilliant,” Connor mutters. “I got the only wizard who can’t do this one simple task.”

“If you’d like to try,” Ominis remarks, “please, be my guest.”

“No, no,” Connor whimpers, “keep trying.”

So Ominis does. “Reverte.”

Nothing.

“Finite. Surgito. Offero.”

None of them work.

“This is it.” Connor slumps to the ground, clutching his head. “He’s stuck there forever and Matilda will skin me alive—”

“Brilliant,” says James.

“— and we’ll have to move to the country to hide, only we can’t because my son is stuck to the bloody ceiling!”

“Pull yourself together,” Ominis snaps. “Your panicking is not helping matters!”

“Yeah, Papa!”

“James needs you to stay calm.”

“Damn right, Papa!”

“Mind your language, son.” Connor gets up. “Fine, fine, I will resist the urge to panic. But if none of your magic spells work, what do we do?”

“I suspect I know the issue.” Ominis faces James. “None of my spells are working because you’re keeping yourself afloat.”

James sounds confused. “How?”

“Well, you enjoy being up there, don’t you?”

“Yeah, the view is great! Papa, you have a bald spot on the top of your head.”

“I have a what?”

Ominis sighs. “It’s up to you, then. Close your eyes. Imagine you are floating back down. Imagine your feet on the ground.”

For the first time all night James sounds unsure. “Okay…” Ominis senses him clenching his fists, deep in thought. “Float back down… float back down…”

The air shifts; his body begins to slowly descend.

“It— it’s working!”

“Good. Keep doing it.”

James lets out a soft grunt, trying to reach down as he goes.

“Yes, that’s it, son,” says Connor. “Keep it up—”

But then James hesitates, two feet from the floor. “Aw… but I liked flying.”

“No!” Connor bellows. “No, please, don’t go back up!”

“Focus,” Ominis commands. “Feet on the ground!”

“But what if I don’t ever fly again?”

“You will. On a broom, where it’s safe.”

“On a broom? But I can fly without one!”

He starts going higher and higher, and Connor’s panic hits peak.

“No, no—! Son, please.”

“I’m all right, Papa!” he says cheerfully, back up on the ceiling again. “I’m like a bird! Wheeeee!”

Connor suddenly grabs Ominis’ shoulders. “It’s no use. He’s too excited!”

Ominis winces. “Then I’m afraid we’re going to have to employ my last resort.”

“And that is?”

“Grab a leg each and yank him down.”

“God Almighty,” Connor curses. “Fine. I’ll take the left, you take the right.”

They grab a leg each, and though James initially jerks, his body simply floats back up, this time trying to take them with him. Ominis jabs his heel into the foot of the bed, but he might as well be trying to move Buckingham Palace.

“James,” Connor begs, clearly having the same problem. “For the love of God, please come down!”

“Look, Papa!” James cries. “I can take you with me!”

Ominis’ feet leave the floor, and he can’t help the embarrassed yelp that leaves his mouth.

“James!” Connor shrieks. “P-Put us down!”

“Now you’re both flying! Hurrah! Isn’t this fun?”

“No!” shrills Ominis. “For Merlin’s sake, James—”

The door suddenly opens. Matilda lets out a quiet yawn.

“What’s going on in—?”

She stops. Notices James stuck to the ceiling, with Ominis and Connor holding one leg each.

“Oh, Mama!” says James. “Want to see what else I can do?”

The bed promptly sets on fire.

Matilda screams.

“So James has magic now?”

That next morning, Ominis woke feeling like he was run over by the Hogwarts Express, owing to the menial two hours sleep he managed to snatch after returning back home during sunrise. Bracing his head over the steam of his teacup, he flicks idly at his buttered toast, desperate to keep his eyes peeled open.

“Yes, James has magic,” he responds, monotonous.

“A Muggle-born like me! That’s so wonderful,” you say, and you place the bowl in front of Flossie. She gurgles, spooning herself the food but letting half of it drip down her chin. “How did Matilda take it?”

“After I doused half of James’ room, she threatened to call the police and tried to exorcise us with holy water? Rather well, considering.”

“Well, it’s nice that everyone in the family knows now. No more secrets! Oh, that means he’s going to get his Hogwarts letter soon! How amazing! We’ll have to groom him for Hufflepuff. I don’t think he has the temperament for Slytherin.”

After last night, Ominis isn’t so sure. Massaging his forehead, he sips his tea, begging his brain to unfog.

The doorbell rings.

“No, darling, food goes in your mouth—” But his daughter giggles again, and you mumble, “Sorry, Ominis, Flossie’s being funny, can you get it?”

He gets to his feet, even though he feels like collapsing, and heads downstairs, irritated that the postman has the audacity to visit so early. When he opens the door, however, he’s surprised to come face-to-face with his Muggle brother-in-law… and his not-so-Muggle nephew.

Connor sounds ragged. “‘Mornin’, Ominis.”

“Hi, Uncle Om!” James grabs Ominis’ sleeve and bounces on his feet. “I got a letter this morning to go to magic school! Papa says you and Auntie went there, so can you teach me more magic? Please? Pretty please?”

Ominis groans.

Fin.

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[read on AO3] [Divider credit]

[yizhou-time]

MY TREASURE [PREVIEW]

MASTERLIST | RELEASE DATE: TBA

Synopsis: “The Princess is lost! Please return her to Scaleswind upon finding her. A reward is in place for those that do.” The description on here matched you perfectly too. ‘How did you get to a forest so far away from Scaleswind?’ They thought. Meanwhile heaps of questions filled your brain. ‘How did you end up on this ship, most likely Aurora? Why are in infamous Pirate Kings, as they call themselves, helping you? Most of all, who is this attractive man crouched in front of you?’

"You knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?" You push Hongjoong's hand off your shoulder and look at the rest of his crew. "Did you all know?" You exclaim loudly. Silence follows and your take a step back from them.

Yunho steps forward, by the look on his face you can tell he's about to offer some stupid explanation to try and make you feel better but when he goes to open his mouth you turn around. He ignores your dismissal and speaks regardless. "When we found you that day we decided to go to the closest town to get any supplies we would need while we cared for you, someone was handing out posters and you know-"

"No, I don't actually!" You shout, slightly turning you head to glare at the group.

"Please don't cry..." Seonghwa quietly asks, taken back by your outburst, however it falls on deaf ears as tears begin to silently fall, a technique you had mastered after spending nights in your room crying after large banquets and reunions.

He takes careful steps forward, your eyes follow his movements and once he's registered that you've acknowledged him he takes it as his chance to step in front of you.

Your hurt look makes his heart wrench and he almost verbally winces upon fully seeing it. "You..." You raise your hand and place a light punch on his shoulder. "Just when I though I found someone special it turns out you were using me as a bargaining chip," you continue to hit him "a pawn to get what you want."

Seonghwa takes each hit quietly, he knows he deserves it, he deserves much more than just these punches actually and he's well aware.

"It's not like that." He tries to reason.

"It was." You argue.

"Not anymore." He grabs your fist. "It's not like that anymore, I promise."

"Seonghwa, you're going to hand me over for a large some of money, what type of person does that?" You finally look at him in the eye and he shakes his head firmly. "I heard you all not even 10 minutes ago."

His face drains of colour, his breathing slows and he processes what you just said. He carefully lets go of your hand and places both on his on your shoulders, he leans down slightly to come face to face with you. Closer than you’ve been before.

“Yes, it was my idea. Yes, we were going to go through with it. No, some of us don’t want to anymore.” He tries to convince you.

You shake him off and step back. “I could turn you all in and have you beheaded in mere minutes and this is what I get?” You frown.

Silence fills the ship and you all just stare at each other for a moment, some of the other shipmates stop what they’re doing and stare too.

You shake your head and find your way back to your sleeping quarters.

“Captain, we told you this was a bad idea.” San is quick to argue.

In response he takes his hat off and looks to the floor.

“And you just let it happen.” Yeosang adds in.

“If you knew we were all building some sort of relationship with her, you included, you should have dropped it.” Jongho calmly speak for the team. “Especially you.” He states, gesturing to Seonghwa, before turning to leave.

Yeosang follows suit, utterly disappointed in people he considered family.

“You guys don’t understand. You understand nothing.” Hongjoong states, his pride getting in the way of admitting his wrong doings.

Mingi scoffs, leaning on the side of the ship, and the Captain glares at him harshly. “What?” He says informally, bringing Yeosang and Jongho’s attention back to the situation.

“You said when she came that we could do what we wanted with her, we wanted her here, and you said she should stay for her own safety. She opened up to us for God sake!” He shouts.

Hongjoong comes face to face with him. “Oh because you’re so perfect? Thinking about the team, are you? No you’re fighting in her corner, again!”

“She told us why she was in that forest in that day and you want to throw her back out there? You’re sick!” He matches his energy almost immediately.

His Captain drops his hat on the floor. “You don’t understand, we need the-”

Mingi becomes angrier at the reasoning. “We clearly don’t! You’re greedy! We can’t have one thing without you ruining it-”

Wooyoung cuts him off. “Just because you can’t hold a friendship, bare in mind a relationship, why should we suffer because of your shortcomings?”

Hongjoong halts as him comment and San quickly moves in to pick up his hat and hold him back.

The boys begin arguing between themselves, trying to get their leader to help you but the arguing continues. San telling people to just follow what he says, Wooyoung and Yunho, the people who found you, arguing to help you, Mingi firmly stating he’ll go if you do, Jongho telling people to be reasonable and Yeosang shouting for people to lower their voices. Seonghwa, the one who started all this, says nothing and is frozen in place. The shouting gets louder and louder and louder and Wooyoung’s comment rings in Hongjoong’s head.

“She’s breaking this team apart, we need the money, she has to go, that’s it! That’s final!” With that everything quiets down once more and he sighs, calming himself. “Seonghwa is the one who said we should do this, I didn’t plan for you to become friends, you don’t need friends in this world.”

“No, you don’t need friends.” Yeosang remarks.

“You all knew, you could have done something about it earlier.” He states.

Mingi rolls his eyes, “Ok, say we did, would you have called it off?”

Silence.

Nothing.

A look of betrayal comes across Mingi’s face, it’s a look Hongjoong wishes to never see again.

“Exactly. We didn’t tell her because we wanted to savour every moment with her.” He finishes.

Seonghwa looks at everyone, spending a few seconds to really take in how they feel just by looking at their face, something you had taught him when telling him about your time during ballroom dance classes, and he takes a few moments to breathe after looking at all of them.

Mingi is completely heartbroken, you didn’t have to look at him to know because his voice gave it away. San just wants everyone to calm down, he’s hurting and Seonghwa can’t pinpoint why. Yunho is clearly perplexed after being lied to, only noticing because Mingi pointed it out. Jongho is tired, of the shouting, being up all night, he just wants to be comforted, if you were here you would have given it to him in a heartbeat. Wooyoung is obviously angry, how could Hongjoong do this to you after how lovely you’ve been to them. Yeosang is confused, how could this happen and how could he let it go on for this long.

Hongjoong is… Seonghwa concludes he doesn’t know how he feels. He concludes that he doesn’t care how he is. He tried to call this all off so many times after suggesting it but his best friend thought they should do it regardless, so he did it out of greed that he no longer had, and that hurts him. A friend would listen to their best friend and let them be happy, and although he’s thankful Hongjoong is putting the team above everything else Seonghwa believes that you should come above everything else.

He thinks back to how you looked earlier. Angry, upset, distraught. Those are feelings he never wants you to feel. He never wants to see that look on your face ever again.

“I love her.” He states, drawing the attention of most people on the ship.

“I love her. This is my fault, I have to fix it.” He tells himself out loud.

"No shit." Yeosang's snide remark doesn't deter him however nor did the eye roll that followed.

Seonghwa quickly slips off the cotton jacket that had been keeping him some what warm while on the deck as quickly as he can and walks in the direction you left.

On the way he pushes the jacket into Hongjoong's hands as he leaves. They all watch him go, determined. He shoots down the stairs as fast as he can, trying to catch you before you fall asleep.

Hongjoong stands still, unsure of what to do with himself.

"Let us know when you're ready to officially leave and we'll get the map to Scaleswind to Yunho, Yeosang just has to figure out where we are." Jongho quietly states, lightly tapping Yeosang with the back of his hand to make him leave with him.

The pair go back to the storage room, shoulders hunched and looking completely dejected. Hurt, sad, lonely, but they understand where he’s coming from and that’s what hurts the most.

Mingi moves his gaze away from the them and squints his eyes at the silent Captain, his brows frowning in the process. He stands up straigther, trying to silently to intimidate him with his size in order to make him backdown although it was unrealistic. Yunho puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him towards the quarter deck. "Stay with me while I'm behind the wheel, hm?" He tries to soothe his friend.

"I can’t." Hongjoong hears him mumble, but he still goes with him regardless.

San hands his hat back to him and slowly strokes his arm. They meet eyes and he realises he's not the only one hurting.

"Are you happy with your decision?" He whispers.

"I don't know." It stuns him, the all knowing leader, the one they all looked up to and aspired to be didn't know how he was feeling. Hongjoong who ruled with an iron fist was unsure of how he felt and for the first time in his life San doubted him.

Wooyoung sarcastically laughs, obviously hearing him. "All this and you don't even know. Wow, alright." He scratches his brow, unable to look at him.

The older one of the two offers him a sympathetic smile before turning to face his bunkmate. "Let's just go, we can make a list of supplies we'll need from Scaleswind." Reluctantly Wooyoung follows him to leave the deck.

Hongjoong looks down at the soft jacket in his hand and then down to the cuff of his sleeve. A white patch had been carefully sewn on top of a rip that had been there for a few months, causing him to barely wear his undercoat as to not rip it anymore resulting in him feeling colder than usual. That was all until you had sewn it back together for him in your own time after finding a small sewing kit hidden in a barrel on the ship, as a small way to repay him for letting you stay and keeping you away from home.

It had been so carefully hand sewn, it reminded him of a mothers stitch and it was something he had yearned for a while. As did your cooking, it was warm and he was always full. As did your determination to keep Aurora clean, it gave the crew one less job to focus on. As did your attentiveness when it came to the boys, making sure San wiped every speck of dried blood off of his body, bringing Yunho food and water while he spent nights behind the wheel, telling Jongho all about books you've read and promising to give him them when it's safer for you to go back.

"Call it off." He whispers.

The pair barely catch it and turn around to face him.

"We set up a meet spot to trade, call off the plan on our end and we can rework it." He states, looking them dead in the eye.

"What?" They question, confused.

"We can use her as bait, draw them in, get the reward and she can come with us again, it never said we had to give her back, just find her." He says much more confidently, much louder too as Yunho seems to catch what he says and tells Mingi.

San and Wooyoung smile at each other, elated.

"I'll tell Jongho not to bother and y-" Wooyoung starts.

"And I'll get those two and we can rework it all, as a team." San finishes.

"Yunho don't move, I’ll be back, wait for me!" Mingi shouts and Hongjoong sniffles a laugh at his determination.

Determination to keep you with them, keep you safe and Hongjoong realises that he may have that determination too. Maybe it was better to keep you around, it gave all of them something to look forward to.

Taglist (reply to join): @liniiiaa @marievllr-abg @hee0soo @lelaleleb @atinyreads @brielle-in-the-galaxy @starillusion13 @readerofallthingssmutty @not-everything-is-so-primitive @huachengsbestie01 @madnpan @giannadodson @mazeinthemiroh

[forays-into-fiction]

The Princess and Her Throne

Adventures in bondage with Eddie. You and Eddie have a date night and talk all about your pervy delights. Then it’s back to his trailer for the night to try out one of his new ideas.

Eddie x Bambi Masterlist

Sorry if I missed anyone from the taglist, if you’d like to be added to the list please leave a reply either on the masterlist linked above or here.

Minors DNI

Contains:  Perv!Eddie/Not So Innocent!Girly!Reader, Perv!Eddie/Perv!Reader, Some Fluff But Mainly Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Slight Corruption Kink, Unprotected Sex, Sex Toys, Bondage, Overstimulation, Mentions of Oral/Oral Fixation, Cum Eating, Dirty Talk, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Bambi, Babe, Sweetheart, Princess), Praise Kink, Degredation/Name-calling (Slut, Whore), Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader

The first time Eddie tied you up he was a jittery mess, scrambling around collecting things as he went and muttering to himself under his breath. You sat on his bed watching on in amusement as he stumbles over himself.

“Safety shears… safety shears… where did I put them… ah ha!”

He sets them down on the bedside table next to you, as he turns back around you grab his arm, he gives you a curious look. You begin in a soothing tone, “Babe, you gotta calm down. You need to be in the right mindset for this, we don’t want either of us getting hurt for real, right?”

He sighs, “Right… right. You’re right, it’s just I’m… excited. And I want this to be perfect-”

“I know, babe, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Just pause a minute, take a few breaths.”

He takes a few steadying breaths before turning back to you and you decide to push your luck, giving him another instruction, “Ok, now gimme a kiss.”

He leans in pressing his lips to your own softly, you give him a sweet, brief kiss before pulling away.

“Now, what was that for?” He questions.

“Just wanted to see what you’d do…” you reply with a smirk.

“Oh, you little…” he grumbles, but can’t help the little grin peeking through.

“Ok, for real now… calmly, do we have everything we need?”

He looks over at the collection of items he’d laid out on the bed and side table, he gestures to the each as he lists them off, “Ok we got rope ‘cause duh, we got a paddle for if you misbehave…”

He pauses with a smirk before continuing, “… we got the first aid kit and the safety shears, both sets and in easy reach. We got water and some sugary snacks for after so we don’t really gotta move if we don’t have to. Towels too, the extra soft ones you got for me… ummm, I think that’s everything. There anything else you think we’ll need?”

“I don’t think so, you got it all covered… see I know you’ll always look out for me. Now let’s get to work, you can tie me up all pretty in your favourite colour… but don’t rush ok I’m not going anywhere.” You pull his hand closer to your face pressing soft kisses to his fingertips looking up at him lovingly.

He lets out a low groan, “Fuck… don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this, always so good to me Bambi.”

He looks at you with those big, brown eyes and you can’t resist pulling him in for another kiss, when you break apart you murmur affectionately, “I love you Eds.”

“An’ I love you.” He mumbles in response.

“Now, there’s something else I want you to do for me…” you trail off waiting for his reaction.

“What’s that sweetheart?”

“I want you to strip me…” His eyes light up as he grins at you and you add, “… slowly though, ok? And… leave… leave the necklace on?”

“Absolutely sweetheart, wouldn’t dream of taking that off you.”

You grin back at him, looking up at him through your lashes and squirming slightly. You were excited too, but you were containing it as best as you could. You know emotions running high and getting too worked up wouldn’t go well in this situation. Both of you needed to remain clear and level headed.

As he slips off your skirt, he looks up at you, “Ok and remember what we talked about, if you start feeling any pain that you shouldn’t, or numbness, or light-headedness… if you need to stop for any reason, anything at all you let me know, ok?”

You nod at him assuring him, “I remember and the same goes for you… if you need to stop for anything.

He turns his head kissing your thigh, right beside the tattoo, “Thank you sweetheart… really for everything.”

He continues stripping you off until you’re laid bare before him, you love the contrast of him towering over you fully clothed while you lay before him completely exposed. It has you rubbing your thighs together, slicking them with your wetness that pools between them.

His motions now are deliberate and calm, more focused than you ever usually see him as he goes over the lengths of rope. He considers his options and gets to work, looping the rope around you with nimble fingers.

Nothing too intricate at first, you’d decided, something simple for the first time trying this together, but still very pretty as you liked to say. He checked the ropes for tightness as he went, slipping two fingers between it and your body. He had you practically shivering with anticipation.

When he’s finished, he stands back to admire his work. You eye him up and down too, lingering on his bulging crotch before looking back to his face.

“So, how do I look?” You prompt him for a response.

He looks at you, eyes dark and clouded with lust as they meet your own, “Goddamn, Bambi you are perfect… you are so perfect you don’t even know.”

You giggle, “Yeah, sometimes I think we were just made for each other ya know?”

“Fuck do I know it, who else could be as filthy and depraved as this…” He palms himself over his pants with a rumbling moan.

“You gonna strip for me now?” You ask hopefully, pouting up at him.

He chuckles at your whiny tone, “All in good time, sweetheart… just let me…”

He trails off, moving onto the bed he spreads your legs with his knee slotting in between them he runs a finger down the rope that runs the length of your torso following the diamond shapes, bumping over each knot until he gets to the one he’d tied and placed strategically to sit right against your clit, pushing it into you firmly with a devilish smirk.

You gasp and moan, “Eddie…”

He chuckles and mimics your tone, “y/n…”

You pout back at him, “Why you gotta tease me?”

“Awww, Bambi c’mon it’s fun… and you know you like it…” His hand moves to your breast, framed by even more rope. He kneads the soft flesh before rolling the nipple between his fingers, eyes glinting as you raise your hips and the quickly dampening rope between your legs slides against you.

You moan again at the sensation and he reacts smugly, “See, you do like it don’t you?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whimper eyes fluttering shut as you continue to cant your hips upward searching for that delicious friction.

With his other hand he caresses your cheek, murmuring softly, “If you wanna see me strip you’re gonna have to open your eyes sweetheart.”

You wrench your eyes open gazing at him dreamily, “Lemme see you Eds, wanna see your pretty cock. I bet it’s all pink and shiny just for me. Wanna see all of you s’ not fair.” You finish with a pout.

“Shit, you know just what to say don’t ya? Alright I’ll ‘strip’ for you.”

He begins at his belt, undoing it slowly, pulling it free from the loops he pulls it taught and rolls it in his hand. You move to pop open the button on his pants, but he takes the belt and taps you with it in warning. Not hard enough to be considered a slap, but enough that it gets your attention and you retract your hands.

“Hands to yourself, eyes only sweetheart.” He taunts.

“Yes sir.” You mumble nodding your head.

He continues to undo his pants until they are hanging open on his legs, but then changes direction moving for his shirt and you whine.

“Oh, you thought I’d just whip it out let you see my ‘pretty cock’ straight away, as soon as you ask?” He palms his bulge again for emphasis.

You pout, before admitting reluctantly, “…maybe.”

“Well, maybe someone needs a little lesson in patience…” you grumble and he laughs at your reaction, “… don’t worry, I’ll let you see my cock, let you see all of me… but before we really get into it you’re going to cum just by grinding against that rope for me. I might touch you in other places, but I’m not going anywhere near that desperate little pussy until you do.”

“Fuck… Eddie…” You gasp.

“You got that sweetheart? You think you can do that for me? Make yourself cum on this rope like a good little slut?” He tugs on the rope making it pull taut between your legs.

The knot presses into your clit, the two strands that ran either side of your cunt, slipping between your folds and you wail, “Fuck, yes, yes, yesss… I’ll be your good little slut. Cum all over this rope… then… then can I have your cock, sir… please?”

“After that you can have whatever you want Bambi.” He leans in and lays a kiss on your forehead, “But now watch me as I strip for you and keep grinding against that rope.”

You nod and do as he says while he proceeds to rid himself of his clothing, going so far as to slip each ring off his fingers one by one before even considering removing his pants. You whine and moan, desperately moving your hips in search of release. 

You gasp at the sight when he finally does remove his pants and he moves back to kneeling between your legs, you can see a considerable wet patch staining the front of his boxers.

“Like what you see?” He teases.

“I-is a-all of that pre-… pre-cum…?” You ask wide-eyed, staring down at his tented boxers.

“Uh huh sure is sweetheart.”

“God that’s fucking hot… lemme see it Eds… p-please…” Your hand come up to twist at your nipple as you beg.

“Alright sweetheart, you were such a good girl after all… so patient.” He palms at his cock before slowly rolling down his boxers to rest beneath his heavy balls. His cock bobs between his legs, flexing as more pre-cum dribbles out of the slick, ruddy head.

Your motions quicken, your whole body glistening with sweat, panting. He runs his hand along the underside of his length pausing to circle the tip with his thumb with an exaggerated, borderline pornographic moan. He pulls his hand away, pre-cum stringing between his fingers and the head of his cock. 

He spits into his palm, not that he needs it, you know he’s only doing it to get to you and it does you moan wantonly your free hand twisting into the covers on the bed. Then his hand returns to his shaft, spreading saliva and pre-cum all over himself moving to tug on his balls with a breathy moan of his own.

“Jesus, fuck wanna suck on it so bad.”

He chuckles, grinning down at you, “Oh, yeah? Tell me… tell me how bad you wanna suck on my cock… balls too huh?”

You answer, hips thrusting erratically, panting and moaning pathetically while you torture your poor little abused nipple, “Absolutely yes balls too, sir. I-I… hngh… I’d start with that perfect cock of yours… swallow up all your pre-cum… mhhhh… th-then I-I’d move down to your balls… suck on each of ‘em while I rub your shaft… fuck… get all messy with drool and pre-cum… shit, I’m gonna cum Eddie…”

“Yeah, you gonna cum thinking ‘bout sucking on my cock? Go on cum like the good little slut you are.” He groans.

With one final thrust against the rope between your legs you explode with a cry of his name. Your walls clamp down on nothing, thrusting into empty air before collapsing bonelessly into the mattress, chest heaving with exertion.

You look up at him, his hand around the base of his cock in a vice-like grip, he breathes out in awe, “Holy fucking shit Bambi that was hot. You really wanna suck me off that much?”

You nod weakly, “Uh huh… but could… could we maybe do that another time? Really want you to fuck me now… split me open with that big dick and cum deep inside me…”

“Jesus H Christ it was taking all I could not to fucking pin you down and just take you… god yes I wanna fuck you…”

You reach out and grab for him with shaky hands and he descends upon you capturing your lips between his own in a heated kiss. His hand travels the length of your body, pulling the sodden rope from between your folds, spreading it either side of your dripping cunt before guiding the tip of his cock to replace it. The knot still sits upon your sensitive clit rubbing against it torturously as he sinks into you with a guttural moan.

He rolls his hips unevenly with stuttering motions, you can tell he’s holding back, you hook a leg behind him, urging him deeper. He lets out a strangled moan, “Fuck… I’m not going to last… I’m fucking ready to cum right now. Please…”

“Just let go Eddie… fuck me.”

At your encouragement his hips quicken slamming into you at a punishing pace, tears flow from the corners of your eyes as the rope continues to push against your overworked clit and you feel another orgasm approaching. 

He tugs on the rope around your neck, grabbing the guitar pick necklace in the process, you’re dimly aware that he’d left his chain bracelet on too, pink ribbon peeking out.

“I can feel that you know… the way you’re slowly getting tighter and tighter, quivering all around me… you gonna cum again?” His voice is deep and rumbly sending a shiver through your body.

“Yes, sir!”

“Go ahead cum on that cock you love so much and I’ll give you what you want… my cum deep inside you.” He growls.

You whimper already coming apart and pulsing along his throbbing length and as promised he paints your walls with his thick, hot seed.

He collapses on top of you pressing his sweaty body into your own, gasping for breath. You stroke the back of his head and he presses soft kisses into the skin beneath his face.

“I fucking love you so much y/n.” He sighs, his tone deep and full of meaning.

You kiss the top of his head, responding earnestly, “I love you too Eddie.”

He pushes off of you, dopey grin plastered across his face, his softening length slips out of you followed by a stream of your combined fluids. He reaches over to the bedside table cracking the seal on a water bottle before sliding his hand under your head, propping you up and placing the bottle at your lips, tilting it gently so you can drink. You make a sound and tap on his arm twice and he pulls the bottle away, “You good? Had enough?”

You nod and swipe a hand over your lips “Mhh hmm.”

He takes a swig from the bottle too before placing it back on the bedside table and moving to release you from your binds, his calloused fingers rubbing at the skin soothingly in certain places. When the rope is free, he reaches for a towel cleaning you off and then himself before moving to lay beside you and scooping you into his arms.

You sigh, melting into his touch, he interrupts the silence with a laugh before reaching over to the bedside table plucking something out from the pile of snacks. “You want a lollipop? Ya know, since you wanted something to suck on so bad.” He teases.

You give him a playful shove, “Hey!” You protest, but then consider it a moment, “… actually I would like a lollipop.”

You take the offered candy, unwrapping it and placing it between your lips. He grins at you before his expression shifts a little more seriously, “So how are you, really? That was good right? Not too much?”

“Oh, that was perfect… I am a little sore, but it’s not too bad-”

He cuts you off quickly, “Where does it hurt? Tell me what I can do to help.”

“I’m fine really, just sensitive… a little swollen… we’ve got aloe gel, right?”

He nods hastily reaching for the first aid kit, he shuffles through it finding the bottle and holding it up.

“Do you think you could rub it over my clit and… well that whole area really, but be very, very gentle.”

“Of course, princess I’ll be super gentle.”

He squirts some of the gel into his palm, rubbing it over his fingertips before spreading it over your swollen folds with a feather-light touch. The cooling sensation soothes you, he leaves your clit til last, you jump a little when he brushes over it and he apologises profusely when you do.

You hook a finger under his chin, “Now get back here and cuddle me mister.”

He hovers over you for a moment and removing the lollipop from your mouth, you pull him in for a kiss, sweet and tender, showing you bear him no resentment.

When he settles in against you again you ask eagerly resuming your sucking on the sweet treat between words, “So, how was it for you? Did you like seeing me all knotted up in your favourite colour? You wanna do it again some time?”

“It was fucking amazing sweetheart… God do I want to do it again. I want to do that so much, whenever you want sweetheart just say the word. I’ve already got so many more ideas for all that rope you’ve got.”

You giggle at his enthusiasm, “See made for each other.” You hold out the lollipop for him to have a lick and he takes it from you, you reach for the water again.

He sucks on the lolly before replying, “I know exactly what you mean Bambi.”

He takes the water from you when you’re done and places it back on the bedside table.

You feel your eyelids drooping and drifting closed, you mumble, “‘M tired Eds…”

He runs his hand over your back rubbing gently, “‘S ok, you sleep, I’ll deal with the rest of the clean-up. Such a good girl for me tonight… tomorrow we can go out get some milkshakes just hang out yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds nice Eds, g’night.” You hum as he pulls back the covers from the bed. He manoeuvres you beneath them ignoring the mess of cum splattered all over them, that’d be an issue for another day.

 As you settle in, he brushes a few stray hairs back from your face, “Sweet dreams princess.” He murmurs kissing the top of your head.

This time when he tied you up, he was testing out one of his ideas, he’d tied you up many more times since that first night always coming up with new things to try. Each time was just as good as the last, even if not all of his ideas worked out as planned, you had fun regardless. You’d even spotted a few doodles of different rigging designs and knot diagrams scattered in the corners of his notes and on random bits of papers it made you grin every time.

This time was interesting, he’d asked you to bring along your magic wand and you were very curious as to how he was going to incorporate it.

When you got to his trailer, he’d greeted you with a kiss telling you to put your bag in his room and come right back. You do as instructed and find him waiting by the door with his keys. You look to him in confusion, “Where are we going? I thought we were going to try out one of your new ideas?”

He laughs as you pout up at him, “And you say I’m insatiable… it’s date night Bambi. We’re going on a date and then we can come back to play.”

You light up at the mention of a date, “Ooooh, where are we going Eds?”

“Well, I was thinking we go for a drive, listen to some music, talk a bit, you know. I packed a little picnic type thing… nothing too fancy or too heavy… cause ya know, after… well, yeah anyway, find a nice spot under the stars just you and me…”

You sigh, “Awww, Eddie that’s so romantic.”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Yeah? I mean it’s not much, like I said nothing fancy, but-”

“But nothing, I love it.” You grin at him and press a kiss to his rosy cheek.

The two of you make small talk and listen to one of his cassettes as he drives you out to a quiet, secluded spot in the forest that backs onto the trailer park. He’s picked out a very pretty spot, with a nice little clearing. He parks the van and turns to you, “So do you wanna sit outside or we can set up in the back of the van… which ever makes you more comfortable?”

“I wanna sit outside, look up at the stars with you.” You hum happily.

“Ok, sweetheart, gimme a minute to set up then I’ll come get you, ok?”

You giggle, “Ok, Eddie.”

You can hear him opening the back of the van, sorting through the items he’d packed for a few minutes. You want to look over your shoulder or in one of the mirrors, see what he’s up to, but you resist.

A few seconds later he’s at your door, opening it, extending a hand for you to take. He helps you out, closing the door before leading you around to the back of the van where he’d laid out a blanket and some pillows. Some lanterns that look like they may have come from Thatcher Tires are scattered about to provide light.

 He’d opened the picnic basket and spread out the food as well, little homemade sandwiches that looked like he’d made himself, a little unevenly cut, a container of fresh strawberries with the tops cut off, another with some cream by the looks of it and finally a cheap bottle of sparkling wine with some plastic cups.

“So, uh yeah… this is it, I guess. But um… remember we can’t have too much of the wine if we’re gonna do what I have planned alright?”

You squeal and throw yourself at him, “Eddie this is honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me!”

“Really? I mean I didn’t do much and it’s all pretty cheap stuff. Hell, I borrowed the lanterns from the shop.”

“What have I said? it’s not about how much you spend or how flashy something is, it’s about spending time with you, being close to you. And you put in so much effort, don’t sell yourself short.”

“Stop it… c’mon sit down so we can get started.”

He leads you over still holding your hand while you lower yourself to the ground, letting go when you’re settled and tucking your legs up beside you smoothing down your skirt. He sinks down opposite you offering you the plate of sandwiches, you take one and dig in as he takes one for himself.

“Mmmm, this is very nice did you make ‘em?”

He answers bashfully, “Yeah, I did… I know they’re not perfect… cut ‘em a little wonky and everything’s popping out the sides, but I tried.”

“You did very good, and they taste good too, is that mustard you used?”

“Yeah, um does it work…? I mean I know you like mustard…”

“It works very well. May I have another?” You smile at him brightly.

And he scrambles for the plate thrusting it towards you, the sandwiches slide a little but remain on the plate, you giggle, “Thank you.”

He returns your smile, “No problem. Here let me get you a drink.” He cracks open the bottle pouring a little for both of you, extending your cup towards you and you accept it graciously. He takes the last sandwich for himself, chomping down on it.

You set down your cup after a few sips and reach for the strawberries and cream.

You hold one up observing the shape, “Hey, look Eds it looks like a love heart, the way you’ve cut off the top with that ‘v’ shape.”

He looks at the berry between your fingers considering it for a moment, “Huh, yeah I guess it does Bambi.”

You dip it in the cream and pop it in your mouth with a satisfied hum. “You want one?”

“Yeah sure.”

You pluck one out dipping it into the cream for him and hold it out for him placing it in his open mouth. He chews and swallows before offering his thanks.

The two of you share a few more strawberries ‘til they’re gone and you dip a finger straight into the leftover cream sticking it in your mouth and sucking it before venturing with a line of questioning that sends a heat rising to your cheeks.

“So, I’ve been wondering… what other pervy stuff have you done that I don’t know about? You know like the thing with Eddie Bear.”

“Oh… ummm, you… you sure you wanna know that, Bambi? I mean it was kinda… actually really-”

You cut off his stuttering, “Yes, I want to know, c’mon you should know by now I would never get mad at you or judge you for that stuff. If anything, it’d probably turn me on.”

His breath catches in his throat, “Yeah… I mean if you’re sure. I mean I got pretty ummm… I still feel guilty about at least half the pervy shit I did when we were first dating. Maybe… maybe it’s ‘cause you didn’t know, maybe it’ll help to tell you about it?”

“Please tell me Eds, I do wanna know.” You flash your puppy dog eyes and he groans.

“Alright, well… one thing I used to do is… um, I’d jerk off using your lotion and umm when… when I’d finish, I’d cum inside the bottle. Liked to imagine you rubbing it all into your skin the next time you used it. Did the same thing with your body wash the handful o’ times I showered at your place. Then when I did shower there… fuck… I’d get so turned on, just surrounded by your smell and then it’d linger on me all day and I’d just have to jerk off constantly.”

He awaits your response grimacing slightly at the brief silence as you stare back at him mouth having dropped open. “Oh, fuck Eddie that’s… that’s sooo fucking hot. You’re telling me all that time I was rubbing your cum into my skin, goddamn… but you stopped doing that?”

“Yeah, of course I stopped it’s… it’s weird Bambi and besides now you let me cum all over you whenever I want or inside you… Jesus, inside you… fuck…” He trails off with a groan.

You give him a smug little grin, “Yeah, that is good, isn’t it? But you know if you wanted to you could keep doing that, with the lotion and stuff. I promise you I don’t think it’s weird, I’ll even leave a bottle at your place for when I sleep over. Is there anything else you did that you wanna tell me about? I did some stuff too ya know… I could tell you about that. If you want to take turns?”

He’s practically drooling at the suggestion, eagerly taking you up on your offer, leaning in closer, “Shit, Bambi what’d you do?”

“Well, I think it goes without saying that I’d think about you all the time when I’d finger myself or use my toys… adult and otherwise. I mean I still think about you whenever I masturbate and when you gave me the necklace…”

You pull said necklace out from under your lacy collar, showing off the guitar pick hanging off it, “… I like to tug on it, hold it tight in my hand…”

You look up at him through your lashes before continuing, “… reminds me who I belong to.”

He lets out a strained whine, “Jesus H Christ! Yeah… you got anything else?”

“There was one time… who am I kidding, I say one time but I did it a few times with different ones too… I uh used to steal your shirts and wear them while I got off, liked having your smell around me too. I’d also put them on Eddie Bear when I humped him sometimes too. Washed ‘em all before I returned them though. You gonna tell me some more now?”

You inch closer to him, leaning in as well, reaching for him cautiously until just your fingertips brush along his on the blanket beneath you.

“Well… I did something a little similar to that… a little creepy though…” He turns his head away in shame.

You admonish him, taking a hold of his hand fully “Hey, you are not ‘creepy’ ok? Come on look at me Eds.”

He does so at your urging and you press on, “Do I look, creeped out… or weirded out… or freaked… or any other negative word you can think of?”

He takes a moment to look at you, assessing you seriously, tentatively coming to a conclusion, “No… I-I don’t think so…”

You answer firmly in agreement, “Right, because I’m not. So, tell me what you did. I love you and there’s not a lot that could change that. I’d maybe even go as far as to say nothing that could change that.”

He looks at you warily, “Kiss me first?”

Still holding his hand, you close the distance between the two of you moving to sit in his lap, straddling his legs as you kiss him with abandon. He ends up having to brace himself with his arms stretched out behind him leaning back with the sudden force you’ve applied. You can feel his hard dick pressing up into your clothed, dripping folds but you make no move to take it further.

When you part breathlessly he looks up at you, “Thanks, I dunno why but it still makes me feel guilty… the stuff I did.”

You brush his long curls behind his ears, “Babe, you don’t have anything to feel guilty about with me. I love you as you are. I want you as you are. Now tell me what you were going to say, before… this.”

He takes a steadying breath, “I-I used to steal your panties and jerk off with them… into them. The dirty ones… I mean. Uhhh…” He looks to you and you nod encouragingly, he continues, “I’d do all sorts of stuff with them, smell ‘em… taste ‘em or like scrunch them up and stuff them all in my mouth… like… like how I made you that one time in Lovelace…”

“See that wasn’t so bad, was it? I actually think that is very fucking hot I’d love to see you do that one day… if you’d let me?”

“Really? You wanna watch me jerk off with your panties?”

“Absolutely! Have… no that’s silly.” You shake your head.

He grabs you by the chin stilling your movements, “No, tell me, what is it?”

“Um have you ever thought about wearing a pair of panties while you… rub yourself through them? Don’t… don’t know if any of mine would fit you right… I mean when you’re hard, God you’re fucking big…” He smirks at that, you babble on, “We could get you your own pair… if that’s something you’d be interested in?”

“You wanna see me wearing panties now do ya?” He teases.

“Only… only if you want… but yeah, yeah I do.” You mumble shyly.

“Princess, don’t you know I’d do anything for you?”

“Really? You’d do that for me? It wouldn’t… I dunno make you feel…”

He stops your train of thought quickly, “It’d make me feel amazing if it meant you got turned on by it.”

“O-ok so I guess that’s another thing we can try… do you wanna head back to yours now and you can show me what your new idea was? Been dying all night to find out, especially how you’re gonna use the magic wand.”

“Shit Bambi I’m half-tempted to just throw you in the back of the van and take you right here after all this dirty talk… but yeah, yeah we can head back.”

You help him pack up and pile everything into the van, somehow the drive back seems infinitely longer than the drive there as you squirm in your seat. When you get back you hover beside him at the front door, hands creeping over him as he fumbles with his keys. He almost drops them in his haste, but manages to get the door open.  He stands aside gesturing for you to go first, flipping on the lights as he enters.

“So, there’s something I gotta set up before we start, I’m pretty sure it’ll work… and if it does, oh man are we gonna have some fun with it.”

“Always with the teasing, hurry up and show me.” You whine.

“Haven’t we done this before… do you need another lesson in patience? You’re gonna get it tonight either way I suppose… especially if this works.” He smirks.

“C’mon you’re killing me here.”

“Alright, alright I’ll be a few minutes, just gotta…” He looks across the room, making his way over to the little two-seater dining table picking up one of the chairs.

He mumbles to himself, “Gonna need this…” he turns to you, “You did bring the magic wand, right?”

“Yeah, in my bag. Want me to get it?”

“No, that’s ok I’ll find it. You’re not gonna get a peek that easily. Wait out here, make yourself comfortable and I’ll get you when it’s ready.”

“Fine.” You grumble in defeat and he chuckles at you before making his way back to the bedroom.

A few minutes pass before he’s emerging with a satisfied grin, those few minutes had felt like a lifetime to you, your head snaps up to look at him desperately, “Ready?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart… don’t know if you’re going to love it, or hate it or both, but it’s ready.”

He ushers you into his room and you see his little creation, he’d taken a length of rope looping it around the legs of the chair and over the seat where your magic wand sat, also wrapped in rope. You look at it curiously as he watches for your reaction, “Can I show you how I think it’d work?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah, of course… what do you need me to do?”

“Well, ideally you’d be naked and tied to the chair as well, but for now just sit down so I can check the positioning.”

You move closer and he lifts the toy pulling it away from the seat so you can sit yourself down. He slides the bottom of your skirt up and lowers the toy, the head rests perfectly against your clit, the rope holding it in place and pressing it into you. 

You gasp, “Oh… I see. So, um I sit here you tie me up and switch on the toy and just… let it go…”

“Yep, that’s the idea… um what d’ya think?” He asks shifting self-consciously.

“Babe, you are a genius I swear… so we gonna test it out for real?”

He laughs, an easy grin settling across his face, “You bet. Up you get… need you naked for the next part. Don’t need to make it anything special either just take off your clothes.”

You nod and rise stripping off quickly ‘til you’re left in just your panties and bra, the guitar pick nestled between your breasts when you look back over at him an idea coming to mind. 

You unclasp your bra and add that to your pile of clothing before sliding off your drenched panties and pressing them into his hand, “You can do whatever you’d like with these.”

“God yes I fucking will… you take a seat now and let me tie you up.”

You do so eagerly, re-positioning the toy between your legs as he retrieves another length of rope, binding you to the chair carefully. He stands back taking in his handiwork humming in a satisfied way before turning on the toy to the lower setting.

You give a low moan as the vibrations begin and he kneels between your legs, spread and bound to the chair. He leans in kissing your thigh, biting and mouthing on the skin beside your tattoo while slowly ramping up the intensity of the vibrations.

“Don’t… don’t you want to get undressed as well? Touch yourself a bit?” you gasp.

He detaches from your leg with a pop, bringing a hand up to rub over the mark he’d left there, “Oh, I will sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me, you just sit there and enjoy the ride.”

You strain against the ropes that bind your arms, you want to reach out and touch him… touch yourself… anything. He’s tied you up well and there’s no way out just yet. You whine and squirm and he ups the intensity on the toy again.

“I know sweetheart, I know. Eyes on me, alright?” He rises and begins removing his own clothing, tossing it down beside your own.

You watch intently, even more desperate to touch him, now that he’s left in just his boxers. You thrust your hips as much as your restraints will allow, the vibrating head of the toy rubbing against you as you pant and moan.

He looks down at your panties clutched in his hand, sliding down his boxers and stepping out of them. His weepy cock bounces up to slap against his navel leaving a sticky smear there. 

He looks back at you writhing in the chair, maintaining eye contact as he uncrumples your panties and slides them on, up over his own legs. His hard length stretches the fabric unlike it had ever been, his cock sits trapped under the waistband pointing up at him, pre-cum flowing from the tip dribbling down to join your own wetness.

He begins palming himself over the fabric eyes never leaving your own. You let out a strangled moan and answers with a smug grin, “Oh, you like that huh? Wanna watch me ruin your panties, stretch them out with my fat cock? Cum in them so it can join your wetness that’s already soaked them?”

��God, yes p-please sir… didn’t think you’d try that straight away… fuck… and I’m sooo close too…” you whine in response.

“You can cum if you like… but no matter how many times you do I’m not turning off that toy until I’m done… and you know how long I can hold off for…”

“Jesus, fuck… shit… hmmm… Eddie… please…” You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, slick walls beginning to flutter around nothing, pressing into the toy as much as you can.

“Fuck, sir I’m cumming!” You wail, straining at your bonds, limbs shaking, the toy continuing its steady pace.

You’re already a little sensitive from your first orgasm but still the toy continues buzzing away and he makes no moves to slow or stop the vibrations, just as he’d said. 

You try to wriggle away from the feeling but the ropes hold you in place and the further away you scoot from the toy the more firmly it presses against you with its own ropes holding it down.

He chuckles at you, “Oh, princess was that a good one? Did you like that, cumming all tied up, toy strapped to you, watching me touch myself over your panties?”

You whimper, “So good… feels sooo good… al-almost too good Eds, fuck.”

You look down at his hard cock, straining against your panties, his hand rubbing over it lightly as pre-cum flows from the pink, glistening tip freely. He moves his hand down rolling his balls around in the damp fabric and you let out a pathetic whine. He grins, watching you just as intently as you focus on his cock.

And all too quickly another orgasm is fast approaching chasing down on the heels of the first. You throw your head back, eyes rolling, mouth dropping open with a gasp as wave after wave of pleasure comes crashing down over you.

It trickles down your spine and radiates outward, a delicious tingling that emanates throughout your entire body. You quiver as you come down from your high and you know it’s no use but you still try to wriggle away from the toy buzzing away, bullying your poor oversensitive, little clit.

He moves closer, standing between your thighs, towering over you. He tilts your head towards him and dives in for a kiss, one hand still palming at his erection. He pulls back his head giving you a smirk as he takes in your fucked-out appearance, both hands moving to slide over your tits, smearing them with his pre-cum as he kneads the soft swell of your breasts. 

He toys with your nipples, your legs shake and pull taut against the ropes. You moan pathetically you can feel yourself dripping, making such a mess of the chair under his ministrations.

He croons down at you in a teasing way, pinching your nipples firmly, “Awww, you gonna cum again Bambi? Be a good little slut for me and cum again,”

“Fuck…wanna be good… I’ll be good for you… so good…” He tugs on your necklace and the chair rocks slightly as you thrust up into the toy weakly.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are such a good girl. Wanna see you fucked so dumb you can’t even remember your name.”

“Oh god… fuck I’m cumming again.” You sob out as you are overtaken once more by that tingling that spreads all over your body, your slick channel gushing and pulsing all over again. You quake with aftershocks but he lets the toy continue its torturous assault on your swollen nub.

He laughs as you writhe in the chair, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes and still the process continues.

“Please sir… pleeeaase.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for panting and moaning desperately, sweat and slick running off of you in rivulets.

“If you give me one more… just one more I’ll untie one of your hands and you can touch my dick through these pretty little panties… how’s that?”

You mumble unintelligibly nodding and whimpering.

“Good, bet you can’t wait to see me cum for you… get these panties all stained with both of our fluids… when we’re done, I’m gonna keep these…” he hooks a finger under the waistband, “… little souvenir for me, keep them all dirty and stained and maybe next time we can do one for you to keep… you want that sweetheart? You wanna keep a pair of panties all gross and crusty with cum like the nasty, depraved little whore you are?”

A broken moan escapes your lips his, words sending you into overdrive, “Hngh… fuck yes… hmmm… Jesus want that… wanna watch you cum for me…”

“Then you know what you gotta do… one more, scream for me Bambi and then I’ll let you touch me.” He growls and reaches down pushing the magic wand against you firmly.

As you’re swept away once again you do scream, chanting his name over and over like a prayer until your voice cracks with a pitiful whine. “Ple-please Eds ‘s to-too much…” You sob and he relents only just.

He turns the toy to its lowest setting but still leaves it on. Untying one of your arms, he rubs over the skin before guiding your hand to his throbbing, leaky tip, “Remember what I said? That doesn’t get turned off ‘til I’m finished.”

You nod weakly, lazily rubbing your hand over his length, his clasped around yours guiding your motions, grunting and groaning above you.

“P-please sir… cum for me… I-I can’t take anymore… please…”

He thrusts against your hand fervently chasing his own end, “Shit, so fucking pretty when you beg you know that… fuck… hngh… gonna… gonna cum.”

A torrent of thick, white hot cum erupts from his tip, coating your hand and his, trickling down and seeping into your panties as he gasps. He’s quick to turn off the magic wand, pulling you into a kiss once he’s done so. 

When he pulls back you look down at your messy hand and his. You bring your hand to your mouth licking it clean before grabbing at his and doing the same. He mutters under his breath, something you don’t quite catch but you definitely hear a ‘Jesus H Christ’ along with a few other expletives. 

He reaches over to the bed behind you pulling out a water bottle, holding it to your lips and urging you to drink. He stops when you grab his arm and gets to work loosening all the rope.

He kneels between your legs, hand brushing over your cheek, gazing up at you lovingly, “You wanna shower or just wipe off and head to bed?”

 You groan, “Need a shower… ‘m all sticky an’ sweaty…”

“Alright, princess up you come…” he stands and scoops you into his arms.

As he carries you towards the bathroom you smile and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, mumbling, “You’re still wearing the panties…”

He chuckles, lowering your legs til your feet hit the cold tile of the bathroom floor, “I know sweetheart, I’ll take ‘em off in a minute.”

He supports you as you stand on shaky legs, pulling back the shower curtain and adjusting the spray of water as it comes on while you speak, “That was really fucking hot Eds, what’re we gonna call this little invention of yours?”

He considers for a moment while testing the temperature of the water with his hand, “Ummm… oh… ha I got one. How’s the ‘princess’s throne’ sound?”

You giggle in response, “What’d I say… genius. That is the perfect name for it.”

 He guides you into the tub and under the warm water, quickly peeling off your panties from his legs and joining you in the tight space.

You lean back against him humming appreciatively as he begins shampooing your hair, massaging your scalp soothingly. When he moves to soap up your body, you feel something prodding against the swell of your ass, “Ah, Eddie is that…?”

“Yeah, sorry sweetheart. Don’t worry I’ll take care of that myself, you just relax now,”

“But, what if I wanna help?” He doesn’t need to see you to know you’re pouting.

He chuckles, “Alright then if you insist…”

You spin around to face him pressing a hand to his chest, you run your fingers over his tattoos before trailing your hand down his body ‘til you reach his hard length. “So, you used to jerk off in my shower, hmmm?”

He gasps as you begin sliding your soapy hand along his cock, “Uh, yeah that’s right.”

“Tell me how you did it? What did you think about?”

“W-well… shit Bambi, you’re really gonna make me say this stuff again?”

You flash your puppy dog eyes at him, “Please?”

“Fuck ok… well, I didn’t mean to the first time, it just kinda happened ‘cause I was so turned on. I could smell your shampoo, your body wash… started imagining you what you would look like all wet and soapy like you are now…” His eyes rake over your body and he bites his lip with a low groan.

“Yeah, what else?”

He begins thrusting into your hand, matching your movements, “I was all soaped up with your body wash and it reminded me of how I’d used your lotion before… so, I did the same thing with that. I-I got some of the suds and started rubbing… oh, shit just like that…” He groans before continuing to babble.

“… started rubbing my cock and then I remembered how close you were… sitting just outside the door. I wondered what it would be like if you came in and joined me… not the way I thought you’d really react then, the way I’d want it to go… not all that different from how it actually might have gone, now that I think about it.”

“You’d come in and strip off without me noticing and you’d slip in behind me… reach around and grab my cock, you’d say you’d been waiting so long for me to show you how it’s done, that you wanted me to teach you how to fuck. So, I’d turn to face you, ask if you’re sure and you beg me to fuck you ‘right here, right now’ and I do… shit Bambi, I’m close… you wanna roll my balls around a bit?”

As soon as the words leave his lips, you’re adding another hand teasing his heavy balls, cupping them in your palm, tugging on them gently. You look up at him, his face scrunched up adorably, “You said you liked to imagine me rubbing your cum into my skin, you wanna cum on me now? All over my tummy… if it doesn’t wash away, I’ll let you watch me rub it on my skin.”

He lets out a strangled groan, “Fuck… oh fuck I’m cumming.”

His length jumps in your palm, you can feel his balls drawing up as they empty, shooting rope after rope of thick cum across your lower half. You push him back against the tiled wall behind him, stepping out of the spray of the showerhead almost completely.

“Look Eddie…” you urge him, bringing a hand up to your abdomen running it through his release, spreading it around in circles. Your hand moves lower tangling into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs, “You even got me here.”

He groans, the sound resonating deep from within his chest, “Fucking Christ Bambi…”

“See, now wasn’t that better than just ‘taking care of it yourself’?”

“You’ve got no fucking idea… c’mon we need to get you cleaned up again and then it’s bed.”

“Yes, sir.” You reply with a grin and he spins you around, pushing you back under the water.

Taglist: @hard-candy-writing @strangerthings1983fan @hellfirefiend @cluz1babe​ @needylilgal022 @zestychili @sahaadculture @adequate-superstar @eddiemunson95 @jabersplatt

[kimbappykidding]

Imagine flirting with Yeonjun but having no idea he’s being serious

"Why don't you let me get this?" a voice asked "you're too pretty to pay for your own drink". You smiled already knowing the smug expression Yeonjun had on his face without having to turn around. "Yeah but if we're going by that rule I'd have to buy you yours because you're gorgeous" you replied spinning around. Yeonjun pretended to swoon and you laughed picking up your glass. You paid for your drink and then nodded to him “see you around”. "Later Y/n" he winked and you smiled at him before walking away.

"What on earth was that?" your friend asked and you smiled "what Yeonjun? He's cute isn't he?". "Yeah, are you two together?". "What? No! We're just playing around". "It didn’t seem like it" your friend cried but you just smiled. “Ow come on Yeonjun is just a friendly flirt. It’s not proper flirting". "Okay so how about the way he stared at you when you walked away?". You shrugged "he was probably not even looking at me just staring in my direction. Trust me Yeonjun isn’t interested in me". He was.

Yeonjun watched you walk away and then sighed as once again you thought he was joking. "Struck out another time?" Beomgyu asked appearing. Yeonjun jumped "we need to get you a bell". "She had no idea you're interested in her" Beomgyu brutally pointed out. Yeonjun rolled his eyes "don't you think i know that?". “Then why aren’t you acting any differently?” Beomgyu asked “to let her know you like her?”. Yeonjun sighed “and just how would I do that, please tell me Beomgyu because you’re so wise!”. Beomgyu raised an eyebrow “don’t appreciate the sarcasm but I will help you because it’s so easy...stop acting like it is a joke. You’ve got to commit to the flirt. So that means no laughing or brushing it off, make her realise you’re serious”. It was actually pretty good advice but Yeonjun was still stuck “but how?”. Beomgyu rolled his eyes “do I have to teach you everything? When you flirt with her look into her eyes, go all serious for a few seconds and if you can, blush a little and say “i’m being serious T/n””and really emphasise her name”. At that moment Huening Kai and Soobin appeared. “Hey, what are we talking about?” Soobin asked. “I’m giving Yeonjun tips on how to let Y/n know he’s being serious when he flirts with her”. “Ahh he struck out again?” Huening asked and Beomgyu nodded. Yeonjun sighed “Beomgyu’s given me this checklist of things to do...” and he repeated them “tell me he’s not crazy”. “He’s not, that actually sounds pretty great” Soobin nodded and Beomgyu smiled proudly. Yeonjun sighed defeated “fine but help me practice it!”.

So the members did and by the next day they declared him ready. You and Yeonjun were MCing together which the members argued would be an excellent time to put everything into practice. Yeonjun wasn’t too sure but he was ready for you to notice him more so he agreed. 

Yeonjun was waiting to begin hosting when he spotted you making your way over to him. He saw what you were wearing and began to applaude you. You noticed and laughed slightly "good?". Yeonjun nodded "you look really beautiful Y/n" and worked on making it sound serious like Beomgyu said. It seemed to work because you paused and glanced at his face with a blush. "Thanks...you look really nice too". Yeonjun smiled and touched his chest without thinking "we're kind of matching" referring to the complimentary colours of your outfits. You nodded grinning "we are! see we're already pros at this. I knew we'd smash this". Yeonjun agreed and got ready for the cameras to start rolling. 

Halfway through the show and so far things had been good. Yeonjun had been sneaking in flirts when he could and you seemed to notice he was being more serious about them. Yeonjun was feeling pretty confident when the worst happened, another guy started out-doing him. 

You were interviewing Ateez and while the group were normally very fun and playful today there were even more energetic and one member in particular was clearly fond of you. San had been bringing you into the conversation every chance he got and kept complimenting you, making you blush. Yeonjun couldn't believe San was flirting with you so blatantly but he wasn't about to let someone jump in the middle of all his hard work. 

Once the interview was over the boys went to leave but San stayed. “That was a really great interview Y/n...I have to ask, you’ve done this before right? Because you seem like a pro”. You blushed and Yeonjun saw even some of San’s members smirk at his flirting. You shook your head “no I haven’t”. “You’re kidding right?” San asked his face deadly serious and he continued to tease you, insisting you must’ve done this before. Finally Yeonjun interjected “I can confirm Y/n is just extremely talented and good at everything she does” Yeonjun smiled. “Ow yeah?” San asked smiling as you blushed. Yeonjun nodded “we’ve been friends a while and every day she surprised me with how great she is”  Yeonjun smiled looking directly at you "she's very special". You blushed, looking down and San realised there was something there between the two of you and backed off.

After Ateez had left Yeonjun turned to you “so I was thinking, maybe we could go out together after this to celebrate our successful night”. You smiled “yeah I think that sounds really great...” blushing slightly “should we head there together?”. Yeonjun nodded “sounds good” and he walked away feeling very successful. 

Yeonjun walked back to his dressing room and found his other members there getting ready to perform. Beomgyu saw the smile on his face and paused “it worked?”. Yeonjun blushed as Soobin gasped and Taehyun’s mouth dropped open. “Really?” Huening asked “you’re dating Y/n!”. Yeonjun shushed the excited maknae “i’m not...yet, but we’re going out together at the end of the show”. That got them all excited and Yeonjun gave into it, getting excited with them. He didn’t even hit Beomgyu for proclaiming everyone had to call him the doctor of love from now on. He was that happy!  

The rest of the show passed quickly and when the cameras cut you turned to Yeonjun “give me five minutes to get my stuff and we can go?”. “Sounds great” Yeonjun smiled “I’ll get us a car”. He waited awkwardly near your dressing room and said hello to all your members as they passed. They shot him smug smiles and practically delivered you to him suppressing their giggles and barely hiding their happiness. “We’ll see you at the club Y/n” they called and as you were walking away one added “have her home by 12 Yeonjun!”. You went bright red and shook your head “I’m going to kill her!” but Yeonjun just laughed “how about 12:30?” he called back making you blush even more. 

When you arrived Yeonjun told the woman his name and she nodded “your table is ready sir” and you shot him a look. “I called ahead and had them arrange a table for us” he explained. You smiled “that’s so sweet but you didn’t have to, I know it’s expensive here”. Yeonjun shook his head “but I wanted to make it special! Something tells me I’ll always remember the night I MCed with you”. You blushed but nodded “yeah I think I will too”. 

You were led to a table in a VIP area of the club but still central enough to have all the atmosphere and fun. A bottle of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket and some nice snacks on the table. Yeonjun popped the cork and passed you a glass “to a job well done”. You nodded “cheers” and clinked glasses. “So” Yeonjun smiled “we’ve been friends for a while but I don’t think we’ve ever actually sat down and talked before”. You nodded “yeah we haven’t, it’s always just quips exchanged across a crowded room”. “Well I’m glad to finally engage in something more personal with you” Yeonjun smiled making a chill go up your spine. 

You and Yeonjun chatted for an hour before even realising how much time had passed. You talked about everything from serious topics like family, being an idol etc to stupid stuff like who was your favourite pokemon and why. It was so nice to be alone together and give one another your undivided attention. Plus he wasn’t all serious, there was plenty of flirting but it felt different now and more real. Once you’d finished your second bottle of champagne Yeonjun noticed you waving to your friends on the dance floor and smiled “would you like to dance?”. 

You knew Yeonjun was a good dancer but you didn’t expect to have so much fun! Yeonjun twirled you around and you laughed loving the sensation. "I think we did a pretty excellent job!" you cried and he smiled "we did. Thanks for being my partner". "Anytime" you smiled and Yeonjun nodded "okay how about Friday night?". You grinned "deal" but weren't being serious so instead of moving on Yeonjun paused. "No I mean it. Are you free Friday night?" Yeonjun asked. You paused "I...you're really asking me out?". Yeonjun nodded "I've been trying to work up the courage to do it for ages but yes I'm finally asking you out". You blushed "I...had no idea you were serious. I figured you were joking". Yeonjun smiled "nope I meant every word I ever said to you" and you blushed "wow that's a lot...". Yeonjun nodded "so what's your answer now you know I'm definitely being serious". You smiled "I'd love to of course" and Yeonjun grinned a goofy grin that made you smile even more. "Cool...cool" he nodded looking dazed and you smiled. 

He suddenly focused on something behind you and blushed. You turned to see his members gesturing to him and doing anything to make him blush. They froze when they saw you. Soobin smiled awkwardly, Taehyun stared, Beomgyu did a thumbs up and Huening Kai just turned around. You laughed and Yeonjun sighed “I’m going to kill them later”. You grinned “fair enough but how about we give them something to stare at?”. Yeonjun saw the glint in your eye and smiled “I’m down”. You smiled and leant in to kiss him. 

“Oh my god!” Beomgyu yelled and Huening Kai let out a squeal. “They’re kissing!” Soobin cried and Taehyun nodded “on the mouth!”. The two of you kissed a while too and when you separated you both looked over at the members. You burst into laughter seeing them all gaping at you and carried on dancing happily the rest of the night.