#I know the dialogue seems a little off but I had to change things to 1. Make it ieytd-themed and 2. Make it align with the original quote

[thebiggerbear]

where is she?

Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.

Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)

Word Count: 1019

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria; @believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch; @bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz; @kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae

You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”

“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan. 

“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.

When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.

“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.

Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again. 

“Ben!” You called. 

Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.   

When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”

America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“It could all be ours, you know.”

“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”

Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.

When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.

“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.

Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest. 

“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”

Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”

Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.

Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”

Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.

He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.

A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”

A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.” 

When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.

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[ghostlygeto]

let me be your mirror | astarion

pairing: astarion x gn!tav / reader

warnings: spoilers for early romance w astarion, fluff, kind of follows canon dialogue, reader pining hard, reader is an artist this has been done with this exact scenario surely, astarion calls reader “darling”, “my sweet”, also “dove” which isn’t canon, reader and astarion aren’t really together but i mean. yeah they are. not proof read!!!!!

word count: 1.1k

you had been drawing astarion for much longer than you’d care to admit. though the dates scribbled on the bottom of each page betrayed you, exposing that you had drawn astarion close to every day for a month.

it started off innocently, you drew all of your party members when you had first met them. you were stressed and overwhelmed with your situation at hand, the tadpole snugly sat behind your eye squirming to remind you of your devastating truth: you’d soon become a mindflayer if you couldn’t find a cure. on nights you couldn’t sleep or mornings you’d woken up early, you found yourself drawing. it had always been a way you’d let off your steam, now was no exception.

when the stress of your situation died down, as did your drawings of your now friends. you had a couple day’s worth of gale and lae’zel, and probably a week of shadowheart. but astarion? it seemed every time your tool of choice hit the paper he had been the outcome.

you weren’t ashamed of it by any means. astarion is a gorgeous man, blood sucking monster or not. his eyes captivated you (as proven by the amount of drawings of them alone), and his voice had your attention like no other. if the nature of things were any different, you might be willing to confess you were in love with him.

so when the night came and everyone had fallen asleep but the two of you, and astarion had let it slip that he hadn’t seen his reflection in two hundred years, your heart broke. he didn’t know the way his curls hooked around his ears, or the way the corners of his mouth would turn up ever so slightly when he’d successfully kill a goblin. and his eyes, gods his eyes. you’d have to be dense to miss the way they light up at the very sight of you. knowing he didn’t get to enjoy the very things you adore about him devastated you.

“what color were they before?” you asked, arms wrapped tightly around your legs to hug them close to your chest. “your eyes, before you were turned.” your cheek pressed against your knee as you looked to him.

“my eyes?” astarion sounded surprised you’d asked him such a thing. “i don’t..i don’t remember.”

that felt like the final nail in your coffin. your heart ached more for him now that it had before, if that were even possible. if he didn’t remember his eye color, his hair color was probably long forgotten as well. it felt impossible to wrap your head around, you knew the shade of your eyes and tone of your hair by heart. the idea of forgetting it, well, you were sure you’d have to be dead to forget.

“what’s going on in that head of yours, darling?” his tone almost made you forget your sadness. it seemed anytime he spoke to you now his words were laced with honey, drawing you in and sticking to you.

“you haven’t seen yourself in two decades,” you repeat his previous words back to him, “you hardly remember your own face, is that not the least bit devastating to you?”

astarion hesitated before replying to you, trying to chose his words carefully. “of course it is. but there’s nothing i can do to change it, so why bother being upset?”

you chewed the inside of your cheek. of course you had the solution. you had probably close to twenty drawings of his face alone that could provide him some solace about the entire thing. but what if he thought you were weird for it? none of them knew of your little hobby, he could expose it to the others and they could cast you out for invading their privacy. and well, your infatuation toward him was nothing short of romantic. you weren’t sure he needed to know that, but exposing your drawings to him would make it clear.

“i can feel your tadpole wriggling around, what’s wrong, my sweet?” his voice sent a shiver down your spine before you finally managed to speak.

“let me be your mirror,” you offered, raising your head from your knees. you could practically see his thought process, and you didn’t miss the small smirk on his face. “what do you want to know?”

“i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me,” astarion held his usual cocky tone for a moment, but for a second it faultered. “what you see.”

“close your eyes,” he obeyed, wondering what it was exactly you were making him close them for. it wasn’t until he heard shuffling in your tent beside him that he opened them and called out to you confused.

“what are you doing? what in your tent could ever allow you to be my mirror?”

“hush, would you?” you roll your eyes at him as you step out from your shelter and back toward him. you took a deep breath before sitting back down next to him, offering him the pile of papers. “here.”

for the first time since you had met him, astarion was speechless. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting from you, maybe a few put together compliments for him to tease you about before leaving the conversation at that. but this? he had no idea that you could draw, let alone that you’d use such a talent to draw someone like him.

“i know it might be weird, sorry,” you hide your face from him, afraid of his reaction. “i’m sure it might not be comforting to know someone you had barely known until recently has been drawing you for-”

“i don’t find it weird,” he interrupted you, gently grabbing your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, “look at me,” guiding your eyes to his, astarion offered you a smile. not a cocky smile or his usual smirk, but rather a real smile. one you weren’t sure you’d seen from him before. “thank you…for this. they’re beautiful. and i…i could never express my gratitude to you,”

you removed your chin from his hold and waved your hand at him, dismissing his words. “don’t say all that astarion. you make an amazing muse, it’d be criminal of me to not make use of that.” you chose to pretend the burning in your cheeks had been from the fire and not the blooming embarrassment.

“criminal, hm?” it didn’t take long for the astarion you had grown attached to to return, smirk plastered on his face. he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours before speaking again, his voice low and almost sultry, “well we wouldn’t want you to get arrested again, now would we, dove?”

“you ruined the moment, astarion,” you huff, pulling your legs back to your chest to rest your head on your knees again. “it’s getting late. we should sleep.”

astarion nodded, standing from his place and offering you his hand to help you up. “yes, i’d hate for a lack of sleep to ruin your muse,” he teased again, handing you back your drawings. “i’ll see you in the morning, darling.”

reblogs, comments, and likes appreciated !!

[wheeboo]

mine | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k

requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀

notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3

join the 2k celebration!

ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."

Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.

Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.

This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.

You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).

However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.

Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.

"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."

A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."

A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."

"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."

"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."

His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.

You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.

Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.

The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.

You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).

It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.

...does his eyes search for yours too?

By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.

You blink at him. "What?"

He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."

You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.

"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."

You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?

"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.

Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"

You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."

At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."

You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.

But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.

"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.

Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.

"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."

You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."

Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.

Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.

"Getting tired?" he asks you.

You give a small nod. "Just a little."

A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?

You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.

"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"

Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.

"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."

Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.

He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."

The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.

TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."

A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.

Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.

"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.

It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.

Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.

You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.

"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.

Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.

But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.

"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."

The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.

You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.

"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."

You hesitantly meet his eyes.

"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"

You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.

He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.

Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.

You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.

"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.

"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"

It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.

"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."

THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"

The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.

"Y/N, wait𑁋"

"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."

The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.

You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.

But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.

"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"

"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"

Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.

But instead, he just steps closer to you.

"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.

With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.

"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."

You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"

This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."

This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."

Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.

"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."

FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."

A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.

"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.

Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.

You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"

"Marry me."

You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.

There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.

And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.

You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.

You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.

When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."

another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T

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[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.6

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: swearing, mostly fluff, funny moments with friends, no plot just vibes [crystal dialogue prompt courtesy of keke the unstablereader 🫶]

Though Remus was undoubtedly relieved that you a) knew of his affliction, and b) forgave him for his arseholery, he was admittedly a little more than slightly disappointed that very little had changed between the two of you.

Which made no sense on account of the fact that he never planned on anything changing between the two of you to begin with; he was discontent, nevertheless. 

“Oh, good, Y/N’s here. Listen, how the hell do I stop the nargles from stealing my things?” James shouted as you approached the table. You looked like you had perhaps only been prepared to say hello and carry on, to which James was having none of it and nearly bodily forced you onto the bench next to him. 

“Hello, Jamie. Do you have your cranberry seed oil infused corks?” You asked as you obediently took your seat.

James scoffed and pulled out a lanyard from under his uniform which, lo and behold, had a cork attached to it smelling very much like cranberry seed oil. “I literally never go anywhere without it.” He said as if you had asked a particularly ridiculous question.

You hummed and Remus watched a divot appear between your eyebrows as you scrutinized what Remus assumed was James’ aura or some other such entity. “Well, I don’t see any around you, James. What makes you think you have a nargle problem?”

James groaned dejectedly and turned back towards his lunch. “All of my things are missing! It started around the time you went missing.” James stressed, still not having completely forgiven you for your disappearance at the last full moon. “It was my school tie, and some socks, a quill set my mom got me at the start of school, and now I can’t find my herbology textbook!”

You hummed again and seemed to look around the table as if you’d somehow find his belongings there. “Perhaps you should ask your friend Peter.”

Remus heard Peter choke on his pumpkin juice as James, Sirius, and Remus all turned to look at him. 

“Uh...haha, so, funny thing...” He started, cut off by an indignant squawk from James.

“You were stealing my stuff!? Why!?” He cried.

Peter’s cheeks pinked though a pleased smile graced his lips. “You were so worried about Y/N being missing and the nargles taking your things. I thought a funny prank would lighten the mood; I wouldn’t get a chance like that again!” He defended himself. 

“You are so dead.” James muttered as Peter (wisely) took off out of the Great Hall with James hot on his heels.

“Alright Y/N.” Sirius started, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “You’ve gotta tell me; how’d you know it was Petey boy?”

A shy sort of pride painted your features and Remus thought it was the most beautiful you ever looked. “Wrackspurts.”

Sirius’ smile fell slightly, but the amusement never left his eyes. “Wrackspurts?” 

You nodded in agreement. “Mhm. His head was full of them.” You said simply as you took a piece of cut strawberry from James’ abandoned plate and popped it in your mouth.

Sirius nodded with a look on his face that seemed to say ‘fair enough’. “And how’d you know about this one?” He asked, motioning towards Remus with his head.

“About his affliction, or about his soulmate bond?” You asked as if you were simply talking about the weather.

Sirius cocked his head as he considered you. “Both.”

“His aura...or I suppose Moony’s aura.”

Remus felt his eyebrows recede into his hair line. “Moony has an aura?” He asked you.

You nodded in the affirmative. “I’m assuming you’re right-handed?”

Remus nodded numbly.

“Most of the lunar cycle, Moony’s aura sits around your left shoulder. As the cycle moves closer to the full, he resides on your right. Also, sometimes when I’m near, he tries to come closer. Would you say that’s true?” Your serene tone did nothing to calm the racing of his heart.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sirius said, interrupting Remus’ internal struggle. “There really was nothing you could do to hide from this witch, huh Moons?”

Remus chuckled self-deprecatingly and looked down into his lap in a little bit of shame. Your smile never faltered, however. 

Peter and James returned then; James with a self-satisfied grin on his face, and Peter with his hair, shirt collar, and tie in disarray. 

“What’s so funny?” James asked as he sat beside you, smacking a platonic kiss to your cheek as he winked over at Lily from her spot further down the table, whose face turned a shade of red rivaling her hair at having been caught watching James.

“Remus and his last two braincells trying to keep Y/N away from him.” Sirius snickered. Remus kicked at him under the table which caused you to jump. He apparently had missed his mark and had kicked your shin by accident. 

“Fuckin’ hells, dove. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my gods...” 

Sirius barked another laugh as Peter whispered a quiet ‘dove?’

“Oi! You really have lost your gobstones! Can’t believe Moony’s the dumbest one out of all of us now.” James said as he checked your shin for injury under the table. 

“Remus isn’t dumb.” You defended the dumb bastard. 

“Well, you can’t say he’s very smart here, dollface.” Sirius conceded.

You hummed and shooed James away from your leg. “Wisdom was chasing him; Remus was just always faster.” 

This time, poor Pete lost his pumpkin juice completely as he sputtered mid-sip. You didn’t even seem to realize you’d said something particularly funny (or devastating) as James nearly fell off the bench in a fit of laughter and Sirius pulled you into his side.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin. Remus, please, can we keep her!?” He said in between bouts of laughter, wiping away a mirthful tear from under his eye.

Remus had no objections. 

What Remus hadn’t agreed to was this.

Remus understood that allowing Moony (and...himself) to keep you around meant that he would ultimately have to share you. He knew that he’d have to share you with James, he’d have to (rather unfortunately) share you with Regulus, he’d have to share you with Pete and Sirius who seemed just as enamored with you, and he’d likely eventually have to share you with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and the rest of his friend group.

He was however not in the slightest prepared to have to share you with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior. 

Remus had, quite happily, found you studying in the library alone and asked politely if he could join you at your table. The two of you had been studying in companionable silence when Regulus showed up. No matter, Regulus was quiet and diligent in his schoolwork. 

Then, Sirius had shown up perturbed that his baby brother and his best mate were hanging out (to which both Regulus and Remus vehemently denied, seeing as they were both here studying with you, not each other), and insisted he be involved. Though Sirius struggled with the whole sitting-still-and-quietly thing, he more or less managed to join the three of you without much fuss.

But then James showed up, which sparked a long and arduous debate between he and Regulus regarding which entity was worse – wrackspurts or nargles – to which you weren’t even a part of save for each of them calling to you in need of an explanation every so often. You would look up from your book and answer them politely before returning to your schoolwork as if you weren’t surrounded by complete idiots. 

Remus was lovestruck. 

And then Barty showed up.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Crouch screeched as he ran through the library completely ignoring the shushing from other students and string of curse words following him from the crotchety librarian. 

“Hello, Bartemus.” You greeted the banshee serenely.

“Quickly, darling.” He started before promptly dumping a large sack of tumbled rocks and gems in front of you. 

“Where’d you get all of these?” Regulus asked incredulously, reaching to pluck a small stone that had rolled over to his open book.

“Never you mind that!” Barty shouted as he swatted his hand away. “Y/N - light of my life, apple of my eye - which of these crystals will help me piss of my dad the most?!”

Once again appearing completely unperturbed by the general chaos around you, you perused the crystals set before you. 

“Well, Carnelian can invoke passion.” You said as you plucked a red stone from the pile. “Garnet can invoke intense emotions: jealousy, anger, fear. I recommend pairing it with gold – maybe place it in a gold setting for a necklace or something similar. Dravite will bring up unresolved emotions...” And soon, two red stones and a brown stone sat in your palm as you held them before Barty. 

“Pfft, figures.” Barty grumbled. “Red and gold never fail to piss me off either.” He sneered, looking pointedly at the three Gryffindor’s seated at your table. Remus was not necessarily proud of the low growl that the comment elicited from him, but he was proud of the restraint he showed when Moony was screaming in his head to tear the fuckers head clean off his scrawny body. 

“Bartemus.” You chided gently, looking up at Barty standing above you like a parent might look at a particularly troublesome child: full of love.

Remus hated it. 

“Sorry my sweets.” Barty cooed at you and ran a finger along your cheekbone. 

Remus hated that more. 

“Mr. Crouch!” The librarian called, finally having caught up to her problem student.

“Well, I must be off.” Barty called casually as if it was completely of his own volition that he now vacate the premises. “Keep the rest, beautiful angel face. Much love!” 

And he was gone. 

Thank Merlin. 

“The friends you keep.” James muttered as he shook his head in disappointment as if he wasn’t one of said friends you keep.

“Oh, Bartemus is not so bad. Perhaps just a little misunderstood, and a little more than maniacal.” You put simply. 

James was shushed loudly by the librarian for his laughter.

“I’ll go check on him.” Regulus said as he stood. He barely spared the Gryffindors a glance as he nodded politely at you. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“Goodbye Regulus.” You sang to him, smiling brightly like he had just been anything more than sort of polite to you.

Remus once again figured that was as much affection as Regulus could ever show. 

“You boys are welcome to help yourselves to the crystals. It’s a wonderful idea to take the ones that speak most to you.”

James exclaimed gleefully as he started to browse the many stones in front of you. Sirius’ face piqued in interest as he quickly plucked the most sparkly stone on the table.

“Jamie, you should bring this one to Lily.” You said as you handed him a small, slightly translucent pink stone. James didn’t bother asking questions such as ‘why?’ or ‘what is it?’ or even ‘should I be worried?’ before he accepted it, punctuating his ‘thanks angel’ with a kiss to your hair before he was racing out of the library.

“What stone was that?” Remus asked, unable to quell his curiosity.

“Rose quartz.” You responded simply.

“What’s it do?” Sirius asked.

Your mouth quirked in thought. “Stones don’t really do anything. They just encourage what’s already possible.”

Sirius rolled his eyes earning him a defensive kick in the shin from Remus. 

“What does rose quartz encourage, dove?” Remus placated.

“Love and affection.”

Remus nodded and watched as Sirius pocketed two more shiny and sparkly stones before his expression was painted with mischief. “Say, Y/N. What crystals should our dear Moony here have?”

Remus couldn’t even bother shooting his mate an unimpressed glare when your face picked up excitedly and you began sifting through the stones. He watched just as animatedly. 

After a few moments, you proudly displayed a small palmful of stones. 

Remus placed his hand palm up beside your much smaller one and relished in the intimacy of you gently transferring the stones into his palm; your hands gently brushing in the action.

“What are those stones?” Sirius asked curiously.

Remus swore some bashfulness painted your features as you pointed the stones out in Remus’ palm. He was thankful for the continued contact as you explained them all. 

“This is amethyst, which supports calmness; rids the mind of negative thoughts, and promotes dreamless and restful sleep.” You explained, causing Remus to nod his head. That could be helpful.“This is obsidian which helps one process their emotions.” That one earned a snort of laughter from Sirius. “Jasper is supposed to provide support during stressful times. This is moonstone which...well...I suppose that’s self-explanatory.” 

Remus hummed but couldn’t help but notice you failed to discuss the last stone sitting in his palm. He wasn’t going to push it, however.

“And the pink one?” Sirius asked sharing no such qualms, lips quirked in a smirk and eyes full of mirth. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly, clearly feeling slightly self-conscious, but explained it nonetheless. “Rose quartz to encourage love and trust.” 

Remus would usually consider himself a generally skeptical person: but you may have just converted him.

taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr, @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @adhxmoony, @hufflepufffangirlqueen, @thebiggestnaturaldisaster, @urmomw4ntsme, @b4tm4nn, @jamieolivia27, @stqrgirlies-blog, @loving-and-dreaming 

[helaintoloki]

I am just so obsessed with the idea of Five and Reader's domestic life (without all those doomsday shite) 🫠 so please, if you can, I'd love to read something related to that 🙏🏻

a/n: hi anon sorry for the wait ! i just started the fall semester and haven’t had much time to write but i hope you enjoy this little slice of life -esque fic

warning: basically pure fluff

The dance hall is nearly empty save for the elderly couple rocking back and forth in each other’s arms in front of the stage where the big band plays their last song of the night. Tired busboys and cleanup crew members clear away the tables and sweep up any mess to prepare for the next day of business. Despite the evening coming to a close, you’re in no hurry to leave Five’s arms as he delicately twirls you around the dance floor to one of his favorite songs.

“Ready to call it a night?” He asks with a careful smile after watching your eyes nearly flutter shut for a third time. He knows you well enough to detect when you’ve reached the point of exhaustion, but he also knows you’re not one to ever admit this out of your own volition.

“Tired already, old man?” You counter playfully, but you don’t protest as he begins to lead you off the dance floor and out the doors to your car. Your feet are killing you and you want nothing more than to crawl into bed, and Five is fully aware of your current internal dialogue. He helps you into the car and even slips off your heels for you before taking his place behind the wheel.

“This was nice,” he admits in a soft voice, glancing over at you in the passenger’s seat. Your head is pressed against the cool glass of the window as you watch the city streets pass by, and you let out a gentle hum in response to his comment.

“It’s nice we get to do normal couple things now,” you agree thoughtfully. “No assignments to complete, no world-ending apocalyptic threats to stop, no timelines to fix. Just us getting another chance to relive our twenties again in a world where the moon is still intact.”

“I’m sorry about all that,” Five relents with a tired sigh. If not for him you probably never would have been wrapped up in all that mess in the first place, and he feels partly responsible for the chaotic nature your life had taken on the last few decades.

“Hey,” you call gently, prompting the boy to glance over at your sincere gaze and soft smile, “I wouldn’t change it for the world, you know that. I literally had the chance to, but I decided against it.”

“Don’t remind me,” he scoffs quietly at the memory. The Handler had cornered you once with an enticing deal- a chance to return to your own time in exchange for Five’s whereabouts and his plans to stop the end of the world. She mistakenly underestimated your loyalty to the time traveler, and you had gifted her with a solid right hook in response to her offer. That all felt so long ago to you both now.

The headlights of the car drown your front yard in artificial light as Five finally pulls into the driveway of your humble home. After everything had been set back to normal and the Cleanse had been stopped, you both decided to move out into the suburbs and purchased a lovely little fixer upper in a quiet neighborhood where almost nothing seemed to happen. It was exactly the fresh start you needed, and every time you stepped over the threshold through the front door you felt your heart fill with warmth all over again just like it had the first time Five had carried you inside.

“I think we should get a dog,” you voice aloud for no particular reason as you flip on the lights and shut the door behind you. The house is cozily warm despite your absence, and already you can feel the eagerness rising within you at the thought of crawling into bed.

“A dog?” Five repeats with a raised brow as he hangs his coat on the wall and sets your heels upon the shoe rack next to his own.

“After married people get a house they usually start having kids, or they get a dog,” you explain with a casual wave of your hand as you walk through the hallway and into the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water. “I think we should get a dog.”

“Not a kid?” Five teases as his fingers playfully poke into your side. You jump at the feeling, and he uses the distraction as an opportunity to steal your glass from you so that he may take a hearty gulp of water before you can protest.

“I don’t think we’re ready for that yet. At least, I’m not. I can hardly handle babysitting Grace and the twins as it is.”

“To be fair, they take after their parents,” Five reminds you with a sarcastic chuckle before handing you your freshly refilled glass of water. “I think our kids would stand a better chance.”

“A Hargreeves child with a y/l/n as their mother?” You retort with a pointed look and uneasy smile. “Not likely. I’d like to remain chaos free for at least another few years before we get to that.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he relents with a sigh before wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve had enough chaos to last us a lifetime. The kids can wait.”

“So we’re getting a dog?”

“We’ll get a dog,” Five chuckles with a careful nod as he presses his lips to your cheek.

“Can we name him Mr. Pennycrumb?”

“Mr. Pennycrumb?” Your husband retorts skeptically, pulling away to analyze your facial features in search of any falsehood or mirth. “Where’d you come up with that?”

“I read it in a comic book once,” you offer with a simple shrug as if it’s the most obvious explanation in the world. Despite how much time he’s spent with you, you still always find a way to surprise him when he least expects it. It’s one of the many things he loves about you, and it’s why your relationship has remained so strong after all this time. It’s hard to reach a stalemate when you’re always keeping him on his toes.

“Of course, what was I thinking,” Five hums thoughtfully as he pulls away from your figure and sets your now empty cup in the sink. “Mr. Pennycrumb it is.”

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and turns to leave for the bedroom, but your melodious call of his name has him stopping dead in his tracks. You move forward to loosen his tie for him, an adoring smile on your face as you peer up at him through your lashes and quietly voice, “I love you.”

He grins, his gaze soft with a look that is only reserved for you as he presses his lips to your forehead and gifts you a tender hearted kiss. What he ever did to be lucky enough to have someone like you, he’ll never know, but what he does know is that he’ll gladly spend the rest of his time on this earth making you happy with the life you’ve built together.

“I love you too,” he utters reverently before pulling you into his arms once more for another kiss.

[astraystayyh]

A cat proposal

summary : minho is in love & wants to marry you

pairing : Lee Know x reader, pre-established relationship.

genre : FLUFF

warnings : mention of wanting to have kids together at the end.

the things i would do to have this man.... hope you enjoy reading!! feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, it will be very appreciated!! <33

You were lying down on the couch, Minho sprawled on top of you. His head was on your chest, his nose nuzzling your stomach every now and then as if to remind you he was there. And you were playing with the locks of his hair lazily, drawing mindless circles on his back from time to time.

It had been exactly two weeks since Minho moved in with you. You hadn't really had the time to relax, just the both of you. His schedule was hectic and so was yours, as it was nearing the end of the year. You only saw each other when he came home late to you; bringing your body to his and peppering kisses on the soft curve of your shoulder.

But today, he managed to come home early, and so did you. Which led to an impromptu movie night together. Still, you couldn't really focus on the movie, the dialogue coming to you like mindless chatter. You had something to suggest to Minho, and you didn't really know how he would take it.

He must have noticed that you were looking up at the ceiling, since he blew a raspberry on your stomach, prompting startled giggles from you. He smirks, before placing a small kiss on your bare skin, "what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I have something to tell you, just think about it okay? You don't have to reply now."

"Okay, tell me about it," he turns the TV off, giving you his undivided attention. It made you flustered, how he always looked at you like you were the only person that mattered on this earth.

"Well... since you moved in. I thought... why not bring your cats here in the apartment, this way you could see them more often and we could take care of them together," you start off, your rhythm accelerating with each word.

"I mean, I know it will take time for them to get used to a new place, so we could do it gradually? They could stay over for a weekend until they feel comfortable here," you start to ramble. "And you could put their toys and playhouse in the washing machine room since it's nearly empty, and we'd take turns taking care of them and I don't mind feeding them and changing their litter box when you are on tour, and I'd bring them to your parent's house because they might miss them and-"

"Honey, breathe," he chuckles and you stop, gulping. You really forgot how to breathe during your little speech.

After that, it's silent. Minho doesn't say anything, placing his head back on your stomach. Your cheeks are turning a crimson red from embarrassment, you just made a fool out of yourself, didn't you?

Your frantic train of thought is interrupted when Minho picks up your hand and starts kissing your knuckles softly. He doesn't look at you as he places chaste kisses on each of your fingertips; as if his lips meeting your skin was worthy of all his attention.

The truth is, Minho couldn't talk right now. Not because he didn't want to, but because he was afraid if he ever spoke, he wouldn't be able to stop the flow of words yearning to come out.

There are one million words in Korean, yet none of them seemed fit to express his adoration for you. He racked his brain for the right combination of words, because 'I love you' didn't cut it anymore. What he felt was more than love, it was a heart wrenching feeling in the most beautiful way.

Minho knew you loved him too, but it was in moments like this that he was reminded that you actually love him. That you were as infatuated with him as he was with you. That you thought about him just like he thought about you.

Kissing your fingertips, one at a time, he couldn't help but remember a fact he once read; there are twenty three words for love alone in Arabic. Maybe he should learn them, maybe he should learn every expression of love that was ever invented, every love poem that was written throughout history. And then he'd recite them to you, one by one. Maybe then you'd understand how you make him feel.

But he couldn't bring himself to tell you all of this, so instead, he settled on a love language that the both of you understood- touch. As his lips met your knuckles, he hoped that you'd feel it all through his kisses. That you'd know how much love he holds for you.

He finally looks up at you, his eyes holding yours in an intimate gaze. It's a while before he speaks again. "I will marry you one day, you know that right?" he whispers softly, as if it's a secret meant for the two of you alone.

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words, he wanted a forever with you?

"You mean that?" you whisper back, voice hoarse from the emotions you were barely keeping at bay. 

"I do. Would you like that?" he asks in a small voice, as if there was a possibility you'd say no. You almost scoff at that thought; not in this life, not in the next one.

"Of course. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Min," you tell him sincerely, your eyes wide looking into his so he'd know how serious you are.

"I want... I want our cats here," he starts off, knocking the breath out of you, 'our'.

"And I want silly supermarket lists with you, that I wouldn't be able to read because your writing is shit," you both chuckle, his laugh reverberating through your entire body. You always felt it deep inside you when he laughed, as if it was a melody meant for you only to hear.

"And i want to brush my teeth with you. I want to come home and see you with the cats. I want to cook for you and I want to kiss you when I wake up and sleep," he whispers, head now buried into your chest as if he was embrassed to say those words out loud.

"And I want.. I want kids with you, I want a girl running around that looks just like you. And you'd both greet me at the door and I'd die a happy man."

Silent tears are falling out of your eyes right now, 'you'd be a good mother', he once told you. And now, he wanted you to be the mother of his kids. It felt like your heart was in his palm and that he was squeezing it with every word he said. But you didn't mind, you knew that Minho would never squeeze too far to break you. You were safe with him. 

"We’ll have that my love, I promise," you smile, placing a sweet kiss on his head. "But i want a boy that looks like you,"you playfully pout. 

"There could only be one me," he tsks, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss your words. 

"This is your son we are talking about," you laugh, your hand threading through his hair once again. 

"Our son," he clarifies and you blush. "Yeah.. our", you repeat, a soft smile on your face and he finally looks up at you again. 

You bop his nose with your finger playfully and he grins at the action. "So… does this mean you want the cats to move in?"

"Of course silly. My favorite people in one place, I can't wait."

"Cats are not people," you tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words. 

"Details."

He then stands up, pulling you up with him. His hand gently cradles your jaw and his lips fall perfectly on top of yours; the kiss making stars swirl in front of your eyes. "I love you so much Min," you whisper in between kisses and he smiles, "I love you yn, so much more than you know."

"I know, you know, Lee Know," you joke and he pushes your face away with his finger, "Nevermind, I take my proposal back."

"No can do. You are stuck with me forever," you singsong, pulling him in for a tight hug. 

Forever with you, he really liked the sound of that. 

[marchofmistria]

A Nice Contrast

A/N: This is my first Fields of Mistria fic so I hope you like it! It's based off March's autumn dialogue when you speak to him at the forge and he tells you that it's nice and warm in contrast to the cold outside <3

Planning to cross-post this to AO3, and will update this post with the link when I do.

Summary: March helps you warm up by the forge when it starts to cool down in Mistria.

Word Count: 2,127

Tags: March x Reader, gender-neutral reader (2nd person), hurt/comfort, fluff

The summer bled into autumn and it was officially cold in Mistria. You felt like you barely had time to catch up, and the first two seasons you spent in the town sped by so fast you could scarcely remember to enjoy the season before it was over. Days at the beach with friends felt long and restful in the moment, and now they let out to a short and cool autumn when a farmer's work is hardest. Your wardrobe had yet to catch up to the change in Mistrian weather, however, and unpacking your warmer clothes was on the to-do list. However, a late start to the day after a late night in the mines and that plan was gone.

It was already 2PM by the time you had finished your daily tasks on your farm. The crops were watered and they had just begun to peer out of the dark soil. Your animals were fed and seemed happy. You sat down for a moment next to Caldarus, chatting with him as you untied your hair and changed out of your farming gloves. There were errands to do today, after all, and Mistria certainly did not rest for you.

As you fell into the swing of the day, your morning plans were quickly and totally forgotten. You didn't have much of a chance to notice; you felt warm from running around the whole town for hours. These townsfolk sure knew how to run you to the ground. First it was a delivery for Balor, then a chat with Nora before returning to Balor, then a trip to the museum to discuss a new finding with Eiland and Errol, some fishing for Reina's new dish at the Inn tonight, and a quick trip to the mines to repair a chip in the metal of your shovel.

Your body had gotten stronger in the last few months since arriving to the small town, but you felt exhausted regardless. Days felt like they ended too soon as is, but as you left the mines, you were truly surprised by the incoming dark. How did it get so late so fast?

The feeling really set in once you set off to the forge to smelt your findings. The breeze blew your hair back and out of your face, exposing your shoulders further and starting a chill down your arms. You felt thirsty and very hungry and realized you missed lunch and would miss dinner if you didn't hurry.

Wanting to catch March before he left the forge for his own dinner, you hurried on, wrapping your arms protectively around your shoulders for some mock-warmth. It did little to help, and you had begun to feel a bit lightheaded.

March seemed to be finishing his work day just as you were arriving, although you knew he would leave the forge hot for you to use at all hours. He had grown accustomed to your habits, knowing how busy you were throughout the day and that you might come to the forge even late at night to squeeze as much into the day as you could before you passed out from exhaustion.

When you finally stumbled up to him, he addressed you with a curt "Hey," his usual attempt at appearing nonchalant. Just as he had grown accustomed to your habits, you had gotten to know his as well. You had gotten pretty good at giving whatever he gave you right back to him, and your conversations were at the point of total ease.

But rather than shooting the shit with him as you usually did, well enough to break down his boundaries to show even some vulnerability (a shock to anyone who had ever spoken to March), you ignored his greeting and rested your hand on the anvil for support. At this point, you felt like it was the only thing supporting your weight up.

March, who often couldn't help but observe you closely whenever you were near him, noticed right away and rushed over to you. His brows knit together, he put a strong arm under your arm for you to lean into. You all but collapsed into his support for a moment, before regaining a bit of strength and using your legs to lift yourself up a bit more again.

"What's wrong?" March asked, an arm still around your torso in case you fully passed out on him. His heart beat faster, worry showing on every feature. As soon as your head stopped spinning a moment later, you looked into his eyes and saw his concern. He couldn't even try and hide his real feelings like he usually did.

You blushed as soon as you realized how close your faces were to each other. The closest they'd ever been, you both quickly noted before pulling away from each other slightly. March did not withdraw his support though, despite the blush that was tinging the tips of his ears.

"Hey, did you hear me? What's wrong? Should I call Valen?" March asked again, concern growing as you didn't answer his first question. Your mind swam back into focus when March reached his hand up, moving your hair out of your face to feel your forehead with his hand. You closed your eyes at the warmth. His hands were rough against the skin of your forehead, but the warmth spread throughout your body.

"O-oh, sorry! I just got dizzy for a second..." You finally stuttered out. The crease between March's brows lessened slightly, but was still visible. He didn't move his hand away from your face. "I think I'm just tired from the mines, and I realized I didn't eat much today. I'll be fine though."

"What the hell? Why didn't you eat anything, dumbass?" March all but barked at you. You couldn't help but smile a bit to yourself. So this is what it looks like when March worried about you...

"Charming as ever, March," you replied quietly, hoping to ease some of his worry and show that you really were okay. But as soon as that signature smirk reappeared, pulling up the corner of his lips, it was gone as you tried to walk again and stumbled once more. The dizziness was back, and you were worried that he may be right about the fever after all.

"Hey, hey... you should sit down. Don't try and stand up again," March commanded, lowering you gently to the ground. You didn't think March was capable of touching anything so gently, let alone you. He kneeled down at your side and made sure you were comfortable with your back propped against the outer wall of his house. "You're freezing... why aren't you dressed more warmly?"

You had nearly forgotten how chilly you'd gotten, and his comment caused a shiver to run down your spine. March had you scoot a bit closer to the fire in the forge. "It's warm by the forge," March said quietly, taking your hands in his and pulling them a bit closer to the fire in an attempt to warm you up a bit faster. "You shouldn't hang around in the cold too long. Especially in what you're wearing! What were you thinking?"

"March, I'm fine. I promise. I'm just a bit tired." You said weakly, hoping to provide reassurance once more (even though you didn't want him to let go of your hands quite yet. The warmth felt too good, both from the forge and from your closeness.)

"Like hell you are. You're gonna sit here while I go find Valen, got it?" You didn't dare defy him while looking into his sharp eyes. "Will you be okay a few minutes alone?" he said, the softness seeping through yet again. Your head was reeling from this contrast alone, and you nodded. March looked back at you one more time as if to verify the truth, his eyes softening as you leaned your head back to rest against the side of the house once more. Just before he left, he took off his brown jacket, throwing it on your lap before he turned and walked to Valen's clinic with speed.

As you waited for March to return with the doctor, you shrugged the jacket onto your cold shoulders. You couldn't help but note how comforting it smelled. It was the same pleasant smell you noticed when March leaned closer to you as you worked at the forge, observing your work and chiming in with helpful comments. It was also the same smell you enjoyed when March all but pulled you to his side at the Inn when he had a couple of beers in him. The warmth spread from your nose to the rest of your body. The smell of a crackling fire, leather, a bit of sweat (not at all unpleasant), and even... chocolate.

You had nearly fallen asleep in the pleasure of the smell alone when you heard March's deep voice coming up the cobblestone path to you. "—seemed like she was gonna faint. She told me she hadn't eaten anything all day, and looked like she was freezing her ass off."

Without a greeting, Valen knelt down to you eye level, checking your forehead with her hand before asking to put a thermometer in your mouth. You noticed how different her hands felt from March's. Soft, gentle, and a bit cold. Clinical was the right word.

"March, please go down to the Inn and grab them a bowl of soup, would you? That would be just the thing, I think." March went right away, as if he was tempted to do just that before Valen had given him the instruction.

"Y/N, you need to take better care of yourself. This behavior is a bit concerning to me, and it seems to March as well. Which, alone, says something, no?" Valen smiled knowingly. She gave you a bottle of water to sip on, and asked if you were still feeling dizzy. You were not. Just plain tired.

"You're running yourself to the ground with work, which I can't say I'm too happy about in the first place. But to make matters worse, skipping meals? Not dressing for the cold weather?" Valen chastised lightly. You were embarrassed that your lack of self-care had caught up with you, and now it was a problem for others as well. You hadn't meant to make anyone worry, which you expressed to Valen.

"You're right. It won't happen again. I'll make sure to take better care of myself," you said softly. "Sorry to make you worry..." Valen chuckled, surprised by your humbleness. "No need to apologize to me. We just want you to be healthy. You may not realize it, but everyone in this town has really grown to care for you. I know you want to take on everyone's problems, but I really think people would be more grateful if you watched out for yourself before you burn out all your energy."

Cheeks burning, all you could muster was a nod of your head. March returned with the soup in his hands. The steam that rose from it looked so incredibly appealing. March sat down next to you. "Have enough strength to hold the bowl or do I need to feed you?" March scoffed.

You shook your head, offering a small smile and thanking Valen again when she told you to monitor your condition and find her right away if you felt bad again. March sat next to you as you took spoonful after spoonful of the delicious vegetable soup. March said nothing, but in the silence you could tell he was making sure you finished every drop in the bowl. As soon as you had taken the last spoonful, March removed the bowl from your hands and set it down on the floor. "I'll bring this back later," said March.

"Do you think you can stand? I'll walk you back to your house," March sighed, extending his hand out for you to grab. The combination of the soup, the fire in the forge, and the presence of March next to you made you regain much of your strength. You grabbed March's hand and used it as leverage to pull yourself up to stand. Still wearing his brown leather jacket, the two of you set off in the direction of your farm.

It was only after March saw your front door close behind you and the lights flip on in your bedroom that he turned to head back home. Something about the thought of his jacket in your bedroom made his heart beat faster, and you both fell asleep that night heated by the feeling of each others proximity that lingered and left its warmth in you through the entire night.

[nightmarist]

Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

[theminecraftbee]

if you'll forgive the rare mention of shipping from me. okay. so my brain LOVES generating weird, slightly fucked-up aus. and so. okay. sometimes i think about the joke that jimmy is the oblivious protagonist to a harem anime or a dating game in most of his smps. which is obviously a fandom joke more than anything else but like, he DOES have a bunch of these ships. and then i ALSO think about the sometimes-valid, sometimes-invalid way people complain about shipping warping his and other people's characters. (for the record that's just how fandom works shipping or not shipping i take a neutral stance on this, it's just important for the au idea.)

so my brain came up with: the jimmy dating sim au. in which jimmy suddenly wakes up and his life is a dating sim. and at first he's... very very jimmy about it. he preens. he LOVES the fact the world suddenly seems to revolve around him. it's GREAT. he can see dialogue options and he still somehow sounds like an idiot when he talks to people but that's fine because he still chooses the BEST OPTIONS. he's doing GREAT. this is the BEST THING THAT'S EVER--

although. hm. it's... a little weird the world is revolving around him? grian and joel aren't being mean enough actually, which seems like a silly thing to complain about, but like, look, he likes it when people are mean. and tango is silly and sweet but he's--he's not normally that focused on jimmy. he's a project guy. and scott is--look, it's weird he's not flirting with anyone else, right? like, that's weird? and, and okay, he's... not sure how to name what's going on with fwhip but there's not enough animosity, and whatever martyn is doing is like, look, jimmy's used to being shot down more on this one, and--

and once jimmy starts seeing it he can't stop seeing it. the world's warped around him. he's the main character in a dating game. every time he picks an option that makes one of his friends (his friends!) like him more, it's like another little piece of their personality is chipped off of them. and as much as he loves being the center of attention, he misses being mocked. he misses people paying attention to other things. he misses the bits that are being sanded off. he doesn't want to be the one to break his friends. he misses the relationships they had, sharp edges and all, because goddammit, he likes that kind of relationship.

but he doesn't know how to stop it.

he doesn't know how long he can go down someone's route before the changes get irreversible.

and so jimmy sets out on a journey to figure out how to break the dating simulator he seems to have gotten stuck in and get his friends back to normal. before it's too late.

ANYWAY IF I HAD TIME AND/OR MORE EXPERIENCE WITH VISUAL NOVEL GAME ENGINES IMAGINE--

[melobin]

melo waffling .. but it’s about a threesome at the gym with sungchan and anton ^.^

they’re both regulars at your gym.. just two guys who work out together, you can tell they’re friends because they always come with each other, always using machines next to each other .. helping eachother when lifting weights !! sometimes they have other friends who go with them, but usually it’s just them.

you don’t mean to stare.. but it’s hard.. both of them often wearing shirts that show off their toned arms .. always lifting their shirts up to wipe the sweat off of their forehead, exposing their glistening torsos to your perverted eyes. you think you’re slick taking glances at them, but you’re not !! of course they know you’re watching them they’re not stupid !! how could they miss a pretty girl watching them every other night they’re there …

they’re cautious with how they approach you, with how you usually go to the gym late at night when not many people show up and them being two rather large men .. they don’t want to scare you away, even though they know you wouldn’t be scared, of course you won’t, not with how you watch them.

sungchan decides to approach you first, being the older of the two boys, wanting to greet you warmly and carefully. maybe not too carefully, not with how his eyes shamelessly looked over your body mid greeting, stopping on the way your sport bra clung to your tits.. the slight chill in the air made your nipples hard and the thin material done nothing to hide them from his eye sight. if he’d known you better he would’ve made a joke about warming them up for you !! .. it wouldn’t have been a joke.

he’s quick to introduce you to his good friend anton!! anton’s a little quieter than sungchan but still quite forward, his eyes also fall to the same place as sungchan’s .. maybe they were just as perverted as you.. they were. their eyes barely left you when they saw you.. always talking about how to approach the pretty girl that went to their gym .. their friends through they were insane, the gym wasn’t the place to try and fuck a girl but.. to sungchan and anton, fucking you would just be a pleasurable workout for all parties involved.

surely, they weren’t going to try and fuck you right away? surely there’d be some sort of build up to it.. some sort of time frame between the three of you first meeting and then trying to get with you .. well, you’d be wrong !!! they had their eye on the prize, you, and they were going for it immediately.

it began with sungchan, his fingers trialing over the skin of your bare waist as he stood near you, complementing you on your stance whilst doing certain things .. “noticed your stance when you do squats.. it’s very good, you seem to know what you’re doing” a cheeky smile.. using his knowledge of exercising to get to you.. maybe it shouldn’t have worked but with a man as attractive as him.. of course it did !!

but.. he can’t get his hands on you properly by complimenting you, so he decides to give you tips.. offers to guide you into an even better position that will help you get what you want, but he tells you it might hurt your core.. but it’ll be worth it in the end. that’s how sungchan gets himself behind you, chest against your back as he helps you bend down. cock wedged between the cheeks of your ass due to the lack of briefs under his sweats…he knew what he was doing, you knew what he was doing. anton also knew what he was doing. sungchan wasn’t slick, but he also wasn’t trying to be.

“i don’t think this is the proper place to personally train someone, don’t you agree anton? anyone could interrupt our.. training” you were patient in letting them do what they planned, it’s amusing watching them go back and forth in whatever dialogue they must’ve reversed before hand. anton would agree !! claiming a quieter, more secluded spot would be better for the three of you.

anton would suggest one of the private changing rooms .. “there’s mirrors in there.. it’s okay if we’re just stretching” you’d agree to go with them, without any reluctance. you knew what kind of stretching was going to be happening and you knew, realistically, it’s not something you should be doing in an open gym with cameras everywhere. not for your first time with them anyway.

the door would be the locked the moment the three of you step in. anton finding his place behind you, facing the mirror. his frame is similar to sungchans … he still towers over you.. his hands feel just as hot on your skin…. sungchan would walk over to you slowly .. a sly smile on his face .. “so you were interested in stretching? i’m always willingly to help a pretty girl out”

turns out part of the stretching he was talking about was hooking your leg over his shoulder as he sunk to his knees between your legs and ate you out… having anton wrap an arm around your waist to keep you up.. his other hand gripping your tits under your shirt as sungchan flicked his tongue against your clit. the two were ruthless together. sunghan didn’t hold back, especially when he pushed a finger into you and dug his other hand into the skin of your ass.. pressing a second finger into you and laugh as your moans echoed throughout the small room. anton would be more quieter but his grip on you wouldn’t falter.. lips finding your neck.. eyes watching you through the mirror as yours were squeezed shut.

sungchan was honest about helping you with stretching !!!! even more so when he let you rest your head on his lap as anton spread your legs apart to press his cock into you. he was thick… stretching your cunt out so deliciously.. sungchan promised to help you through the intense stretch.. fingers brushing through your hair as his others went down to play with your clit!!! anton’s cock abusing your little hole.. the whole thing would give you nothing but ecstasy.. pure, unfiltered pleasure filling the room with each deep thrust from anton.

sungchan wouldn’t fuck you.. not then at least … promises you as he plays with your hair that you’ll get to feel his cock next time !!! stretching takes time and he doesn’t want you to be too overwhelmed during your first session with them !! plus, you needed something to look forward too and him promising to stuff your sweet cunt full of his cum was just as exciting as it could get.

[rhenuvee]

Made With Love [Neuvillette x reader]

Summary: Neuvillette has feelings for you, but doesn't know how to act on them. The Melusines try to help, but ultimately he wants to start and act on his own emotions.

A/N: Neuvilette in the last act of the archon quest made me sad :( // I need someone to say "Was that your first kiss in 500 years?" to Neuvi like Natasha to Steve.

Warnings: dialogue heavy, reader is shorter than Neuvi, reader is a baker

➽────────────❥

"Wait- Monsieur Neuvillette!"

A small voice called out. The Iudex was just about to go out for his weekly walk around the city, until a little Melusine stopped him. They were the ones who suggested he go out for some fresh air, since they sensed that he was still stirred from Fontaine's recent crisis along with handling his duties.

"Hm? What is it Sedene?" He asks, stopping in his steps so that she could catch up to him.

"Are you going to see (y/n)?" Sedene asks, putting her hand curiously to her lips. Straight to the point, the Iudex thinks. His breath gets caught in his throat for a split second, surprised at her words.

Despite being familiar with Melusines and their unique sixth sense, he feels like a deer caught in headlights when they suddenly mention you. Because they know about you- yet they never say the obvious thing directly.

The Melusines have noticed a change in his behaviour, and it started happening when he went out for his walks. One day the Chief Justice came back with a box of macarons, which was quite curious since he usually didn't eat sweets, and so he gave one to each Melusine he passed by. As time went on, more Melusines started noticing Neuvilette smiling... for seemingly no reason at all.

No reason except one that the Melusines instantly picked up on. In fact, you didn't exactly have to be a Melusine to recognize you and the Chief Justice's behaviour, both skirting around your feelings for each other. It didn't take them long to find out about you, and find your bakery from the thank you card in the box of macarons he bought. Monsieur Neuvillette in love... how exciting, they think.

However, with developing emotions comes confusion for the Iudex.

"Yes..." Neuvillette answers directly, yet a bit shyly, a bit surprised at his own forwardness with admitting it. Sedene gestures for him to bend down, to which he complies. She reaches up, and uses her hands to smooth out the top of his head.

"There we go, perfect!" she says cheerfully. Neuvillette realized what she was trying to do, and can't help but smile, though a little embarrassed. The Melusines have been trying to encourage him to act on his feelings, or at least make you realize that he is interested in you. Right now, Sedene was preening his hair, as if to get him ready for a date. He could only imagine the thought of that happening.

"Thank you Sedene, it is much appreciated. I'll be off now."

"You're welcome! Have a nice walk, Monsieur Neuvillette!" she calls out, waving cutely.

He should not be nervous since he was just walking to a bakery, is what he tells himself. However, the Iudex finds himself smoothing out his robes, suddenly thankful of Sedene's gesture with his hair. He takes a step inside the cute little shop as the bells dings.

"Welcome- oh! Good afternoon Monsieur Neuvillette!" Your cheery voice greets him warmly. He seemed a little spaced out to you, but you wait patiently for his response. You take the time to admire his features- You can't help but feel that he felt ethereal in a way. You had to admit he was quite handsome, with how beautiful his eyes were, and how tidy he kept his look.

"Good afternoon." You brush your hands on your apron and quickly walk towards him to have your weekly chats. "How was your week?"

"Busy." You say with a long sigh. "We've gotten so many orders lately, it's hard for me to keep up... Actually something interesting happened- I felt like my boss was about to fire me."

"What?" Neuvillette says in a surprised tone.

"No no! I was kidding! Well... kind of. I'm not sure." The truth about the bakery's rising sales was because of Neuvillette's constant visits. People are naturally shocked to see the Iudex doing things like this, which quickly lead to the Steambird catching this on the paper. You guessed the message was that if Neuvillette kept coming in, that meant the pastries were good.

However, your boss was suspicious thinking it was too good to be true. She noticed that Neuvillette would mostly direct his attention to you, which created the comical hypothesis that you were a criminal and the Iudex was onto you.

"She thinks I'm... going to try you?"

"Yes, it's kind of funny actually." You fish out a newspaper from last week, pointing to his picture photographed with headlines about him visiting the bakery. Neuvillette found it odd how he never seen this before. That, and how his hair looks from the back.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologize! Like I said, I find it quite humorous. Besides, I'm happy that more people have enjoyed our baked goods." You quickly reply. He smiles, giving you the relief that he doesn't need to feel sorry. "How have you been, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

"I've been feeling a little troubled as of late..." Usually when you ask him how things are, he provides a neutral answer. But today he decides to let his feelings out a little. You want to ask him, but you're afraid of crossing that boundary, that it might be personal. You feel bad, after seeing his furrowed eyebrows and downcast eyes, seeing how he might be dealing with something difficult.

"I hope things turn out better, Monsieur Neuvillette. If you want, I'm always here to listen." He smiled, which you now realize is quite a rare but beautiful sight. Neuvillette always admired your kindness, and it compelled him to get closer to you. He was aware he is no good at small talk, or even regular casual conversations, but he is willing to get better at it.

"Thank you, (y/n). I'm afraid this is something I have to deal with on my own." You nod, as a way to affirm his statement, then go around your counter to decide to grab something.

"Did Aeval like the raspberry flavoured macaroons I tried making? I wish I could've seen her reaction in person, but I haven't taken the Aquabus lately."

"I'll be sure to ask her for you, though I'm sure she does. Many of the Melusines are fond of your pastries, ever since I brought them some." He remembers that day. Your smile was just as bright as it is today.

"I'm grateful." You say happily... though there's something else you want to mention. "Speaking of the Melusines, is that a gift from them?"

You point to the top of his head.

"Oh, my hair ribbon?" He says fiddling his hand through the back of his hair. However, you shake your head.

"The tiara."

"The tiara-..." Neuvillette moves his hand to the top of his head, where he feels the tiniest tiara. He could not see it, but from the textures he felt some small shells and rocks. The Iudex realizes this was probably what Sedene was doing with his hair. You giggle, catching on that even he is just discovering it. "I suppose it is. Sedene must have put it in my hair just before this."

Neuvillette deducts that the tiara must be something from Melusine tradition that they wear for special occasions or gatherings. You watch as Neuvillette gives a chuckle, probably at how cute the Melusines actions were. And you couldn't disagree.

"You know, the Melusines have been saying a lot of good things about you." You say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, they keep telling me how kind and intelligent the Iudex is." Neuvillette nods. The Melusines are very kind to him, so-

"And how tall he is."

Oh.

"And handsome."

Well.

Neuvillette politely covers the lower half of his face with his hand to hide his expression. He gets flustered at the thought of the little Melusines flattering him to you, while knowing their intentions.

"I apologize, I think the Melusines-"

"It's alright! I know they mean well. Besides, it's not really a surprise to me..." You say the last part shyly, but it doesn't go unnoticed by him. In fact it's the part that is highlighted the most, and almost prompted him to blush furiously before you quickly said something else. "I like it, it suits you." you smile, gazing up at him.

"Thank you, (Y/n)." Is all Neuvillette is able to utter, after seeing your beaming smile.

"You're welcome! Take these, they're on the house! I hope it'll make your day better." You present him a small box of some assorted sweets. all different flavours and decorated with different fruits.

"You're too kind, but I couldn't possibly take these without paying you."

"Oh please I insist! They're made with love." you coo the last part as a way to try and convince him, to which Neuvillette finds himself getting flustered at. It's a common phrase, and yet he interprets a slightly different meaning from it.

In his eyes, he finds you attractive, yes- cute when you wipe your nose when he tells you that you have flour on it, radiant when you smile while giving macaroons to the Melusines. He's come to know more about you the more he talked to you, and how kind you were. And though his weekly walks in the city were to ease his mind, he couldn't imagine not seeing you as a part of his routine. You are the reason why he has this foreign feeling inside him- one that makes his heart beat faster when you accidentally brush fingertips with him, or give him a compliment.

"Made with love..." He whispers, mostly to himself. You get flustered when you hear him say those words, thinking he might have caught onto your feelings. You hold your breath to prepare yourself for what he might say. "I quite like that."

To your surprise, the Iudex reveals to you one of his rare subtle smiles as you bring the box to him. You can't help but agree with his statement, except you meant it for how handsome he looks when he does that along with how soft his eyes get. You hope to see it more.

"I keep baking things for the Melusines, though you never told me what kinds of things you like. What do you like, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

For a moment, Neuvillette stares at your lips, then back at your eyes that are looking so sweetly at him. He feels his heart beating faster...

"You..."

He almost says that word- that dangerous one word.

"Neuvillette..." you say so softly that it's almost a whisper. Oh, he's starting to adore how you say his name without formalities. He reaches his hand out briefly, then retracts it and clears his throat. He wants to ask you.

But...

"I apologize." He realizes he doesn't know what he's apologizing for. "I... am not really sure what kinds of things I like."

"Oh." you say a little confused. The Iudex feels a little embarrassed, but you always know exactly what to say. Your smile doesn't falter when he gives his strange answer. "Well, when you do know, tell me!"

"I will." He says, in a little more firm tone- more like a promise.

➽────────────❥

A few hours passed, and it was evening now. It started raining shortly after his recent interaction with you. As the hydro dragon himself says, he does not weep, he is just stirred. He went back to his office, but wasn't able to concentrate on his work. He mulled over the interaction he just had with you. He feels like his emotions are about to leap out of his chest, and they almost did in that moment. Neuvillette is still in the process of getting used to expressing himself. He didn't know what to do next.

He wanted to ask you to dinner or something else you may enjoy, but found himself being held back. He was afraid of making you uncomfortable, the fact that he was essential now responsible for all of Fontaine, and furthermore his true identity which you do not know of. The Iudex even considered writing a letter to the traveller and Paimon to ask them for help, but didn't want to trouble them.

"Neuvillette!" he hears a faint voice call out for him. "Monsieur Neuvillette!"

He turns back, recognizing that the voice was you. But he couldn't see you in the city that was slowly getting more grey... except an umbrella with legs.

"Monsieur Neuvillette- you don't have an umbrella, you're going to get soaked!" you say in concern for him.

He realizes he can't really see your face since the umbrella was covering you... it's quite adorable. It makes him smile for a brief moment. He reaches for the handle and raises it up so that it now covers the both of you. The Iudex's breath gets caught when his throat tightens, when you are revealed to him.

Through his eyes, he can see you telling him something- however, he is not focused on that. He can't help but admire how your eyes glimmer even in these grey skies. How even when he was drenched you are happy to see him.

His overflowing heart cannot stop him anymore, for his free hand reaches to softly cup your cheek, his body bending down to your height. You let out a small gasp and immediately stop talking. Your heart is beating furiously as well.

"May I?" Neuvillette asks you with the most delicate of whispers.

"Yes," you say, unable to contain your smile. "Of course, Neuvillette." Yours and Neuvillette's eyes close as you bring your hands under his damp jaw. He is the one who closes the gap between you two, and kisses you with fervour, while not forgetting to be gentle. His lips are soft, melding with yours perfectly. His hand still holds your cheek throughout with a featherlight touch.

You and Neuvillette are all butterflies when you look into each other's eyes, relishing in what just happened.

"I believe I know the answer to your question earlier." The Iudex says breathlessly. "You have captured my heart, (Y/n)."

"And you have captured mine." You reply lovingly. Though, after saying it out loud, it seems you both knew this is how you felt for a while now.

"If I may ask, would you like to accompany me to have dinner and see a play at the Opera Epiclese after?" Neuvillette finally gets the confidence to express what he wanted to ask you. And he's even happier when he already feels he knows your answer from how you're smiling.

"I'd love to." You say, wrapping your arms around him. He returns the gesture with his one free arm, with both of you basking in the moment for a while before you head to your destination.

"The rain seems to be stopping." You say, gazing up at the sky seeing less droplets fall. Your eyes curiously watch how the rain magically decided to stop.

"So it is..." He does the same, except his eyes quickly fall back to you with a sigh of relief.

➽────────────❥

Thank you for being patient! I hope you all enjoyed. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are appreciated. Stay tuned for a milestone event and more of my drafts being released!

[silverhairsimp]

The dad osamu brain rot has been unbelievably real.

AN: complete and utter fluff. Osamu and reader have a daughter. Minimal dialogue.

Also: how is this my first Osamu fic/drabble??? I love this man. thinking of doing an entire dad series... lemme know if you're interested. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Find: dad!Atsumu here

Banner from @cafekitsune

Your daughter is only four and osamu is convinced that these last four years have been some of the best of his life. Learning how to be a dad, watching you become a mom, coming up with ways to parent together, figuring out his daughter’s interests… there was such a sense of sentimental pride when his daughter begged to go to work with him on the weekends.

Which is where your husband can be found without fail. He’s got your daughter on the counter, lending a hand while she shapes her onigiri. She’s doing her best, which is why every time the two of them do this, Osamu asks his little girl “you sure you don’t wanna be like yer mama? Or find yer own thing you love?”

She might have his dark eye brows and those beautiful grey-blue eyes, but she looks like you, and it makes him love her even more. She just shakes her head and looks up at him with big eyes and a smile while she eats the sticky rice off her fingers. “I wanna be just like daddy!”

Her cheeks also have grains of rice sticking to them and osamu can’t help the way he wraps his arms around his little girl. Clinging to these moments for dear life because he knows how fast she’ll grow up. How distant these memories will seem one day...

She’ll probably change her mind about wanting to be just like him. Who knows, maybe she’ll start to look up to her uncle Atsumu and wanna be just like him. Or she really find her own interests and forget all about the times they spent in this kitchen together. He hopes that never happens and this will always be something the two can bond over, even when he starts to age and she goes off to start her own family. He knows that’s years and years away, but he can’t help the way his mind drifts to the future, then back to the past.

He thought he was getting his hopes up, but when you surprised him with that going home outfit: a dusty pink onesie decorated with tiny onigiri on it. He should’ve known then, that his baby would be a daddy’s girl through and through.

And it’s no surprise that when she could start talking and asking for things, that the first item she asked for was an apron to match her daddy. You and Atsumu had worked together to surprise them both with new ones, since your husband’s old one was more than a little worn out.

At just two and a half years old, your baby girl was jumping up and down with excitement, waving the apron in the air and running straight to her daddy so he could put it on for her. Osamu remembers looking at her with the softest smile and tears brimming his lash line while he held her close.

Her little voice pulls him out of thought once more, “daddy? Did I do good?” He puts a hand on her shoulder and nods his head, “you did great, sweetheart. Wanna try to wrap it now that you’ve got the shape?” She’s already reaching for the nori with a frustrated little pout when more than one piece sticks to her fingers. “Here,” he brings a wash cloth over, with a little dish of water, “let’s wipe your hands. It’ll make it easier.”

She follows his every instruction, folding the nori where Osamu pre-creased it. “Should we make mommy some for dinner? We can bring them home and surprise her?” The light in her eyes is one he remembers fondly. He and his brother used to get that same shimmer in their eyes when they’d land a perfect set in a volleyball match. And he’s caught himself even more often now that he has you, his beautiful wife, and his perfect daughter.

There’s so much in his life that he’s thankful for and it’s all started with you.

[howisjoostfanfictionforfree]

Stop Sending Me Fruit Pics

Joost Klein x reader fanfic 18+ MDNI | RPF!!!

Joost hears something you don’t exactly want him to...

Reader: established relationship, f!reader, tried not to be too descriptive with physical characteristics but I’m sure I slipped up somewhere

CW: 18+ NSFW, RPF, smut, consensual but consent is not explicitly stated so be warned if you care about that, kind of rough, unprotected piv, cream pie, filthy onomatopoeia, cringe dialogue?

Words: ~1,900. Just a lil blurb. 

A/N: Ayy you know when sometimes you’re so wet you realize you can hear your pussy makin’ little *schlick-smack* noises when you walk? No? Just me? Dang. Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.

No I did NOT listen to WAP when I was writing this…

🍌🥝 🍌🥝 🍌🥝 🍌 🥝 🍌🥝 🍌🥝 🍌 🥝 🍌 🥝 🍌 🥝 🍌 🥝 🍌

You just got home. 

You had been at Tantu’s all day and you had been so worked up the whole time. You tried to play it cool, keeping to yourself on the beanbag in the corner while they worked, pretending you weren’t thinking about choking on that dick. 

Sometimes you think the fact that you don’t have a dick makes you a little too bold. Since you don’t have to worry about boners there is literally nothing to stop you from having wild fantasies in public and you rarely fail to take advantage of this. There have never been consequences so far, you’ve never been rendered unable to act normal when people engage with you. Still, you wonder if one day you’ll slip up and say something like ‘oh hey, how’s it boning?’. The possibility hasn’t stopped you yet. 

You sit there all afternoon thinking fairly depraved thoughts with no one the wiser and try to look busy on your laptop while discreetly watching Joost work.

When evening rolls around they decide they are done for the day and you are happy to see there is no spot on the upholstery when you get up. You gather your things and say your goodbyes. Then, as you’re heading out the door, you realize you can hear something strange. There is a little *schlick* with each step. Schlick...schlick… Oh. That is definitely your pussy. Guess you got a little carried away. It seems quiet enough that no one will put two and two together though and you just hope if Joost does notice something he will chalk it up to the bouncing click of a zipper or the back and forth of the synthetic material of your coat. You resolve to change your underwear as soon as you’re home. 

You’ve arrived and you’re taking off your shoes by the door when you look over and see Joost’s brow furrowed, looking at you curiously. Fuck. You’re not sure when it caught his attention but it has now and you try to walk into the living room slowly to dampen the sound. Maybe you can keep him from zeroing in on it. You can hear him put down his bag and slowly pad after you. 

You’re halfway through the main space now. Act casual, act casual. The bedroom door is right there. Be cool, be cool. You look behind you to see if he’s following and happen to catch the moment it clicks for him because his eyes go wide.

FUCK

His strides are swift as he bridges the gap between you and grabs your wrists when you turn and try to backpedal, palms raised in defense. He’s got a disbelieving look on his face and it’s turning into a shit-eating grin.

“Are you….wet?” 

“No, definitely not.”  You don’t even know why you’re lying. It’s not like you’re not super down to get it on. You’ve been lusting after him since this morning. Just, something about arousal to the point of being audible is embarrassing. What did that one guy in the vine say to his mom when she was making mac ’n cheese?

“I think you’re lying schatje.”

He spins you around and bends you over the arm of the couch before you can think of an excuse.

“Joost! Come on!”

You try to stand up but he has a hand on your back and his other one immediately works to shimmy your pants down. 

“Dude!”

He’s ignoring you. As soon as he’s got them down far enough he presses his fingers to your panties and swears violently at how obviously little they are doing to contain the situation. You suck in a breath. The gig is up. He rips them down to join your jeans and you can feel the string that connects them to your pussy break and stick to your thigh. God. He brings his hand back up quickly and dips his fingers in. He runs them through your folds and huffs out a laugh in awe.

“Joooost” you whine. You can’t believe he’s laughing at you.

“Schatje, what has you so fucking wrecked?”

“Shut upppppp” You groan.

“Is this all for me? You’re so wet I can’t believe it.” 

It is in fact all for him but your tongue is now stuck to the roof of your mouth with the way he starts tracing around your clit. He teases circles around it for a little while. Not right where you need him but close enough to keep you arching into his hold. His huge hand on your back feels like a brand. 

“Aww that’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

You do your best to make an indignant noise into the cushions.

Continuing his investigation he drags the tips down to your entrance and traces around it lightly. You squirm a bit, it almost tickles, but his pin is firm. Suddenly he drives two fingers in to the knuckle and you choke. It makes the most filthy squelch. He pumps them in and out a few times slowly, repeating the noise. 

“My god schatje”

Your face is on fucking fire.

You want to make some quip, tell him if he doesn’t like it he can stick his damn fingers somewhere else, but you know that it isn’t an actual criticism. No, not with the way he is deliberately plunging his fingers to get the loudest possible *smack-slurp*. Not with the way he’s withdrawing every few pumps to run his drenched fingers through your folds, making equally obscene noises. It feels good but you can tell his entire focus is on reveling in the sheer quantity of your arousal rather than actually driving you higher. You start chasing his fingers, rocking back into his touch.

Then, just as suddenly, he whips his fingers back out, undoes his belt, rips down his pants, lines up, and sinks in in one go.

You scream.

Not in pain, but at the intensity of sensation. Things never usually move this fast. You were already so turned on that it felt fucking perfect though. You have no idea if he’s saying anything to you because you white out for a moment. He holds there as deep as possible for a few beats but slowly he pulls back and starts to build a rhythm. 

“Mmmmmmn, baby, you feel so good. Were you waiting for me today?”

“Oh my god oh my godohmygodohmygod” You don’t know why he thinks you can talk right now.

Having done the bare minimum to not absolutely murder your cervix he begins picking up the pace. Soon he is jackhammering you into the couch as you scrabble for purchase on frustratingly smooth cushions. You can feel yourself dripping down his balls as they slap against you. The noises are worse than ever. The endless *slap-slap-schlap-shlup* is doing something to your brain.

Your hurtle towards orgasm alarmingly quickly. As soon as he reaches around to massage at your neglected clit you can’t even choke out a warning before your eyes roll back and you’re spasming around him in wild pulses. You whimper his name over and over in a way you will probably find embarrassing later.

At the feeling he grips your hips that much tighter, thrusting savagely as his gasps gain a breathy quality. Just as you start to go boneless he hooks an arm around you, pulling you back up into his chest before you can face plant, making your back arch sharply as he slams home and stays deep, spilling inside of you.

“Fuuuckkk”

You’re not sure you can actually feel his cum but there is some sort of twinge of warmth and it has you twitching all over again. He groans at the feeling and bucks into you again lightly, teeth coming to gently press into your neck. You whimper and let yourself soak in the feeling of him in and around you. The weight of him still inside you and his bruising grip holding you so sweetly. 

After a minute he removes his teeth and brushes his lips over the spot. He kisses over your shoulders, gradually letting you both come down. Eventually he loosens his hold, releasing you from the somewhat contortionist pose. Once you’ve got your hands on solid couch again he pulls out slowly. Immediately his cum runs down your legs and you can’t help but let out another little noise. You try to close your legs to stop it but he grabs your thighs and holds them open, leaning back to watch. One of his thumbs moves to spread you open just a little, admiring his work. He gives a happy little sigh.

“Jooooost” You complain, but you really don’t have it in you to stop him.

He groans and pulls away finally, taking off his own shirt. He wipes up your thighs gently. When he’s done he wraps his arms around you and drags you up into a hug, your back pressed against his chest. He kisses at your temple a few times and then turns you around so he can finally kiss your mouth. You sigh heavily in his arms. As nice as it is to get dicked down you had missed his mouth. You always crave his kiss. You feel your strength returning and you bring your arms up around his neck so you can deepen it. You make out languidly for a few minutes but you are tired. All of that kind of made your back hurt. When you part from his mouth he is looking at you appreciatively.

“Was that okay?” he asks. “I know it was kinda fast. I could’t help it, I had to feel your pussy.”

“Yeah, that was really hot, even if it was kind of embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing that you were so wet I could hear it?” He leers at you.

You look away, shy all over again. He chuckles and kisses over your face.

“What made you so wet schatje, hmm? I still want to know. What is there to think about in the studio?”

You bury your face in his shoulder now, groaning.

“Come on babyyyy what has you so hot that I could hear it?”

“Hhhhhh…..the fruit.” You finally mumble into his skin. You still can’t look at him.

“Hah? The fruit? Oh!! Really?” 

You remember the moment you received the selfie with the kiwi. He had left for the studio earlier than you. Later, when you were on your way to join him, he sent you a picture of his snack with the words ‘babe my cum is gonna taste so good’. A few minutes later he sent another one with a banana. You sent him a simple tongue emoji. Your relationship was no stranger to sexting but something about this made you blush. You spent the whole train ride to the studio flipping through your mental catalogue of the many times you had blown him. The weight of him on your tongue and the feeling of him in your throat. When was the last time he actually finished in your mouth? Oral always turned into fucking. God you want him to come down your throat. By the time you made it to the studio you were feeling more than a little warm.

“Yesss fuck you it was hot okay”

“Ohh? Do you wish we did something else? I can give you a taste next time kay?” 

You can feel his grin pressed to your ear. You sigh as dramatically as you can manage. You feel your snark recovering. 

“Okay, I guess I can wait.” 

You pull back to look at him.

“In the mean time, we do have blueberries in the fridge.”

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

*Cues door de Kirk* ~chap die poenie als bosbessen!!! 🫐✨

But like, the other way around,

eh you get it

[moneymartin]

・❥・- just for you.

summary: kate takes her anger out on you after a hard loss. (more gentle tho cause she doesn’t have the heart to hurt you 😞😞😞) + lil bit of aftercare at the end ;3

warnings: 18+ ASFUCK! SMUT MDNI! strap on use… lol

RPF!

a/n: ik i been lacking recently but i’ve grown some more motivation to do something since i’m kinda stuck at home. also almost broke my arm yesterday hahah 🥸 also not much dialogue tbh i’ve never been good at that cuz i dont talk to ppl 😭 AND i didn’t know how to end sozzzzzz!!!!

it was the toughest lost of kate’s college career, especially considering the fact that it was her last year at UOI. the only thing she wanted was to have the championship title, just once. but the team couldn’t do it.

you saw her put all her blood sweat and tears onto that court. the way she tried to make as many shots, as many blocks as she could, and as many fouls as she could draw. the way you watched her cry while she walked into the tunnel absolutely broke you.

when she got home the air between you two grew extremely thick. you couldn’t tell if she was angry or even over it at all. she wasn’t crying, just real quiet. and being the good girlfriend you were, you didn’t bother to push any of her buttons, no matter how much you wanted to just keep her company.

kate would either be sitting on the couch, on her phone, continuously walking around the apartment, sitting in random spots on the floor, in the kitchen. she’d be anywhere and everywhere. all she wanted to do was get her mind off of it, for a little bit.

“are you okay?” you speak amidst the quiet environment that had been lingering for god knows how many hours. you didn’t try to speak either because it felt like she’d just ignore you or give you a nasty look cause she wasn’t feeling so good about it. “i’m fine.” kate murmurs and looks up at you from the clasped hands on her face. the tone she gives you makes it known that she isn’t.

“yeah, right.” a scoff leaves from your lips and the mood changes almost immediately. your eyes dart towards kate and the look that she’s giving you makes it feel like a million daggers are being dug into your back. her face stiffens up and so does your body when you realize that she’s 100% angry.

you know that it isn’t your fault, but now it really feels like it was. “do you think that’s funny or something?” when you hear that, it’s obvious that you’ve fucked up. you can’t muster up anything in response cause you know that it’ll make it worse. not for her, but for you.

but there’s just something about kate that drives you insane when she’s fired up.

“no.” you swallow.

“exactly! don’t fuckin’ go around and laugh about it, if it isn’t funny! are we clear?”

she grunts and lets out a heavy breath when you stand there all quiet and unresponsive. she hates that. its the one thing that makes kate tick the most, other than losing a game that important to her. “answer me.”

you don’t respond. and the look of anger on kate’s face grows much more apparent. “c’mon!” she groans and quickly slides off of the bed. her fingers grip at the collar of your shirt, her rapid breaths brushing harshly against your face.

she tugs your body up against hers and a small whine escapes from in between your lips. kate is giving those eyes that make you shiver all over the place. “y- yes, we’re clear…” you choke out and look away. you can’t stand seeing her angry but its also the fact that it turns you on too.

your voice makes it seem like you aren’t very sincere about saying that though, and that makes her tick even more. kate’s teeth grit together and a sharp breath makes its way through them, her fingers inching closer towards the waistband of your jeans.

“yeah? you sure?” kate teases and starts to unbutton them. her voice deepens and the cold air that meets your now exposed skin makes the shivers feel more like a billion daggers going through your body. her hands cup your waist, a newfound lust taking over the look in kate’s eyes. “doesn’t seem so sincere…” she husks out.

“i mean it! god, you can’t believe me even when i mean it the most.” you sigh and stare at the jeans puddling around your feet. when you bend over to pick them back up and put them on again, kate’s fingers wrap around your sleeve and she pulls you up, drawing a quiet ‘tsk’ sound from your mouth. “just… let me fuck your brains out until i get you to really mean it.”

she tugs you up against her again, her front subtly grinding against yours. and now you can actually feel it. her stupid fucking strap. your eyes dart towards hers momentarily before they inch away. the embarrassment you feel is incredibly strong. you’re wet, and now you can’t even look her in the eyes.

before you even get a chance to speak, kate’s hand falls on the dip of your back and you’re face first into the foot of the mattress. the side of your head presses against it again to get a breather, the sound of kate unzipping her jeans rapidly, and the tip of the strap making contact with your body.

one of her hands grabs both of yours and pins them backwards, the other hand trailing up and down your body and towards the waistband of your panties. in one swift movement, they’re off and on the floor. you have no clue where, but they’re somewhere in that room. as much as you’re trying to resist, you can’t

“c’mon, baby. don’t fight it, please.” kate pleads and leans over your body to bury her face into your neck. her teeth dig into the side of it and you let out a wince, struggling to move your hands while she keeps them in a lock. kate’s breath tickles at your skin while she pulls away, the hand she has on your waist moving away to line herself up with your entrance.

she doesn’t even give you a warning before she slides in. the only thing that makes it known that you’re getting absolutely filled up is the groan kate lets out when she goes in all the way. you let out a huge whimper and eventually start to feel it. “fuck!… oh my god.” you babble and feel kate leaning toward your face again, her breathing hitting your skin, leaving behind dark marks on the base of your neck.

the more you moan and whine into the sheets, the more it fuels her to keep going. she thrusts into you as hard as she can, her hand letting go of the two she’s been holding, and yanks at your hair to pull your head up. “you fuckin’ feel that, baby? that’s all for you.” kate grunts, smashing her lips against yours and pulling your hair again. “just for you..” a hurried ‘mhm’ escapes your lips, your voice left limited.

your whimpers mix into the kiss as you constantly punch at the bed the harder she drives into you. her teeth tug at your bottom lip and your head moves away the more you feel yourself start to sweat uncontrollably. hair sticks to the side of your head and to your forehead, kate gently brushing them out of your face to keep that prolonged eye contact.

“you’re so beautiful, i swear.”

“hmphh—! you’re going too-“

you get cut off the second you feel the turns in your stomach and the blood rush to your face. that familiar feeling burns brightly in your belly and the knot that had been there forever finally becomes undone. you end up finishing, the overwhelming sensation dying down almost instantly.

kate rolls off of you and notices the water buildup in your eyes, her thumbs running across the bottom of them to wipe them away. she lets out a small sigh and scoots a little bit closer to you, eyeing down the hickeys she left on your skin. “i’m sorry, baby.” she whispers softly and cups your face with her palms.

her lips connect onto your neck and she peppers gentle kisses all over each hickey. the contrast from her rough nature to eventually turning into that natural soft, sweet woman you fell in love with the second she sees you like this. “let me fix you a warm bath, okay? for the troubles.” she whispers in between smooches, her hand snaking up your shirt, and her nails dragging softly against your back.

“duh. you know just how i like it.”

“why would i not.” she lets out a scoff and pulls away quickly, a small smile crossing her face when you agree. “was that a scoff?” you mutter and raise your eyebrows. hers do too, and her lips narrow into a straight line. “what about it?”

well, that was the small thing that got you here in the first place.

[ofswordsandpens]

I've enjoyed episode 3 the most so far, but I think the show is still struggling to find a good balance between taking itself seriously and the absurdist humor that RR writes with. My main takeaways:

The Fight Scenes (or Lack Thereof?)

It seems very peculiar to me that the show is just speed running through its battle scenes. Again, it feels very much like the product of Disney trying to sanitize anything that's too extreme?

The trio fleeing from the kindly ones in the book ended with Percy taking control of the bus and then crashing it. It explodes. They lose all of their stuff (money, food). In the show, they simply bail out the back window. No true panic. No tension. Just, okay :) we're leaving now :)

The Medusa Scene. I'll speak more to this later, but in terms of the fight we get to see... well we get to see nothing. Apparently this fight required us to view it through the lens of the invisibility cap (ie. not at all),

I understand this show is intended for a younger audience, but the books are as well. Even the movies, which are pg, came up with better ways to show things without necessarily showing things. As a result, it feels like anything that might induce the slightest bit of tension or fear are sanded down and its honestly doing such a disservice to the books and the audience.

Medusa

I actually really liked this portrayal of Medusa. The 1950s housewife vibe landed well for me. And I loved the actress's voice -- very soft and soothing but always sounding as if she were just about to cry.

Also, I really liked her dialogue. Her digs at Athena and Poseidon were perfectly tragic.

That being said, I really prefer the trio's arrival to the emporium in the book. In the books, they've been wandering the woods and are lost and exhausted and hungry because of the battle/bus crash where they've lost all of their stuff. It almost feels like the emporium popping up "out of nowhere" was more of it finding them.

Meanwhile in the show, Grover finds it through scent on a satyr path and they immediately know its Medusa, which imo takes out so much of the fun of it all??? In the books, they dont know. Grover's just like, freaking the ever living fuck out, and clearly Percy and Annabeth have let him take sole custody of the shared brain cell, cause they're more concerned about getting some food than anything else

Just... RIP dumbass shenanigans

And honestly, I'm not really sure what necessitated the change here in the show (of them not being tricked). It would have been one thing if they were going to change Medusa entirely to not wanting to harm them at all, but imo, I think its arguable/evident that show Medusa was looking for an excuse to petrify Annabeth and Grover (at minimum) regardless of anything.

Honestly, I would have had the show loosely play it out as: book arrival (they dont know its Medusa), keep the dumbass energy and banter, the trio figures out it Medusa while they're eating, Medusa is the more sympathetic version we see in the show, regardless it still ends with the battle.

Also, I do mourn the book battle. The panic and absurdity is just handled better imo. Annabeth shoving them off the bench, Grover flopping all over the place with the shoes but actively getting a good few hits in, Percy having to use to the reflection to behead her... the #TeamWork was emphasized a little more there to me.

Characterization

I think the show is absolutely nailing certain parts of the characters.

They've gotten Percy's anger and his derision towards the gods down. But, I think they're actually underscoring some of his, idk, sincerity? His kindness? It was the line "she met a pinecone's fate" that just rang off to me. While undoubtedly funny, it's just such a stark difference from his reaction to Thalia's story in the books, where he was unsettled by her fate and felt a sincere sympathy for her. The line in the show I assume is meant to criticize the gods, but still, it feels like it comes at the expense of the sensitivity that he has.

They've gotten Annabeth's bluntness, intelligence, pride, and superiority down cold. No question about it. But I feel like they just need to let her be more of a 12yo kid?

Like. In canon she and Percy banter and argue over the silliest of things. She plays hacky sack with Grover and Percy. She blushes and hyperventilates when Luke interacts with her. Episode 3 is like the first time we've gotten to see her do something remotely childish (buying all that candy) and I'm just dying for more of that!! She's not the "mom" of the group and she has her canon dumbass moments. I'm hoping more of this is captured moving forward. They've gotten a good start on the banter, but let Annabeth be more silly! Cause she is!

(Absolutely none of my personal qualms about the characterization are Walker or Leah's fault. They've done amazing. It's the writing/directing I'm side-eyeing).

OH! And I'm sorry but Percy being like "Annabeth we're going to bury medusa with your hat on" would have never ever flown with Annabeth. In no world.

But Grover eating them up at the end? Iconic. Good for him.

[easy-there-leftovers]

Doctor

Summary: Spencer's been there when you had been feeling rather inadequate, for lack of a better term. It's about time that you return the favor. (Written with early s2! Spencer in mind)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader| cw: Spencer being unsure (is that a warning? lol), touchy reader, non canon case, vague timeline, reader and Spence being sapiosexual dumbasses, as per usual (weirdos) | word count: 2.3k

Budget cuts suck, especially if that meant doubling up and sharing a room with one of your colleagues. Or worse— your boss.

It's been a few months since your last GSW, and things haven't been much different. Or maybe it only was because you had been so out of the loop for a while that you hadn't noticed if it was. You hadn't changed up your routine nor your demeanor, so perhaps the others were just following your lead and brushing it off as nothing.

You still feel the occasional stares of literally anyone from your workplace, but you've learned to ignore it since dwelling on it never did you any good.

But you suppose something had changed.

Your relationship with your contemporary.

To be more specific, Dr. Reid had become more accustomed to seeking you out. Engaging in conversation with you more than the previous usual. It wasn't extremely unlike him to do so before, but his persistence has surely increased since your conversation at the hospital. Keeping to his intentions of having more dialogue between you two.

The same couldn't be said about the past week or two, however. While it didn't seem like he was completely avoiding you, you've noticed that you've had more opportunities to talk to Elle, JJ, and Morgan more than you have him. As if the overall frequency of his exchanges with everyone had somehow diminished.

You were going to find out why.

"Looks like we're doubling up." Your unit chief had briefed when you made it the shitty motel.

And your plan starts now.

Spencer feels an arm snake around his waist which makes him look up from his notes, and he's not surprised to see that it's yours. If anyone had to be making decisive contact with him, it would've been you.

"What is it?" He whispers carefully since Hotch is still talking. Used to your touch it at this point.

"Would you like to sleep with me, Dr. Reid?" He clears his throat instinctively.

Your indelicate remarks however, most likely never.

Since your little incident, he's discovered that you're less careful with your diction outside of work and it has certainly thrown him off but he knows that's just how you are. You and your forever unreadable expressions and contrasting sentiments.

Before he can answer however, Morgan's voice cuts through.

"I'm not sleeping with Reid." Everyone looks to him, except Garcia who immediately calls dibs on Derek, and he feels your arm slowly pull away.

Aaron looks from you to Spencer with that usual expression of his before exhaling deeply with crossed arms.

"I assume you're rooming with her?"

Seeing that you're no longer facing him, Spencer can only give your mentor a meek nod. Feeling the same wariness one would feel in the presence of someone's father.

The rest then picked their respective roommates and disband. Reminding one another to meet at the entrance tomorrow bright and early.

———————————————

Lately, Reid has become aware of a lot of things. Things that he never had to worry about before, but ever since Morgan had told him how you felt about the team, he had started questioning his place too.

He has never been ashamed of his intelligence. Far from it, actually. It's the one thing that he's ever been confident in and it's lead him to places that, he thinks, bettered him. Like coaching his high school basketball team, graduating with three PhD's, or getting into the BAU.

But he also fears that part of him alienates him from the others. That his intellect might be the very reason that will, or already, keep him from forming lasting and meaningful relationships. Even more troubling, that he might never live up to the expectations that everyone has of him.

Both as a colleague, and as a friend.

It's worse when the only person on the team that might not feel this way about him is you. Which then comes with its own set of problems.

You had been nothing but well-intentioned since the very start, practically shadowing him throughout everything. Being there to reinforce his confidence with your keen insight, your reflective encouragement, and your comforting presence—all things that made him feel seen.

But with the few times that you weren't there, it unnerved him. As if something was missing. Like it became an unshakeable habit to look over his shoulder and he would find you right there. So when you weren't there, it jus didn't seem right.

And he felt bad about it.

By the time that you had finished showering, you see Spencer with his hair still lightly damp from the one before yours. Head resting on his hand with a lone finger covering his mouth as if thinking deeply while sitting on the bedside's edge.

You take the opportunity to sit on the floor adjacent his tucked legs and he blinks out of his trance when he sees you lay your head on them. He doesn't mind, but he still feels a little bad.

And it's not about the shared single bed.

He felt as if he was taking advantage of your kindness. That by allowing himself to indulge in your brand of 'friendship,' he was effectively isolating you from the others. That for whatever reason, he just got lucky that you seemed to prefer him over them when he was arguably the most difficult to be with

That if you ever caught wind of his feelings towards you, it would ruin the current dynamic you had. He wasn't the type to catastrophize, he of all people should know the dangers of entertaining such thoughts, but lately your presence has had quite the influence on him.

Which is why he's been trying to make himself scarce until he found out how to deal with it.

You wait patiently by his legs. Gauging when he would finish his line of thought before asking, plainly and simply,

"How are you feeling, Spencer?"

In this room where it's just you and him, he's called 'Spencer.' No titles, no niceties, just his name. A luxury that no one else from the team has yet to earn from you.

He breathes out slowly when the pressure in his chest finally feels like too much, but he still can't seem to say what's on his mind. Worried that by telling you any of this, it would only add more weight onto your already abundant plate.

You trace your fingers on the skin that you can reach and he laughs a bit when it tickles. That seems to make you smile, and the sight makes his own grow ever so slightly before you continue,

"I'm not a doctor, nor do I have a doctorate like you—,"

"Three doctorates." He corrects and you roll your eyes playfully at that.

"Three doctorates. Fact of the matter is; I'm not a doctor but— I think I might be able to help."

You motion for him to lend you his hand, the one no longer holding his head, and he gives it to you willingly. Still feeling somewhat guilty when just that amount of contact does actually help him.

You know that you shouldn't profile your friends, but there's a reason why you're in the BAU and not anywhere else.

"So what are your symptoms?" You sense that this is a case that must be handled with a bit of humor, so you make that evident in your delivery.

He clears his throat and furrows his eyes, as if actually treating pretending that he was your patient before ultimately shaking his head with a tight-lipped smile.

"Actually, the symptoms aren't that simple." You hum at that, and get up to stand in front of him.

When he sees you get up though, he feels his hand instinctively tighten over yours. Worried that you were closing the conversation because he was being inarticulate, he goes to apologize but he feels yours squeeze him back before he can.

You notice a few stray strands of hair from your new vantage point. You carefully free both of your hands to tuck them behind his ears, and let one rest gently on the side of his face. Holding it in place, and allowing you to see his expression more clearly.

He feels a bit shy at the attention, but he finds himself leaning onto your hand with a confused expression. You breathe out in mirth and that only seems to confuse him even more.

"You better stop looking at me like that before I do something terrible."

He furrows his brows at that. Hand coming up to rest on top of yours. "Like what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty boy." You continue to observe him, much to his chagrin. Assessing the situation before sighing out.

His hesitance from earlier told you everything you needed to know.

"Do you want to try telling me again, or would you like a diagnosis now?"

He looks into your eyes and sees that you're serious so he just nods slowly. Not really sure what to expect since there's no way that you could've gotten anything from him.

"My diagnosis says that you have 'intellectual schism syndrome.' Common to manifest in young geniuses like you. Characterized by a dependence on one's intelligence as their source of fulfillment, and yet simultaneously fear it as the root of their social isolation and relational difficulties."

You pause to gauge his expression once more before continuing.

"You may have been born with all the wonderful things that help you with this job, but you need to remember that's not the reason why people care about you. You can ask for help. Your worth as an individual isn't dependent on your perceived use."

You let the words hang in the air a bit before correcting yourself, "I mean, that's only when it comes to personal relationships. This job? Well—maybe we'll think about it before kicking you to the curb."

He lifts his face from your hold, still grasping your hand, before shaking his head. As if still not understanding something but he eventually finds the words the words to express that.

"That—That's not an actual syndrome; it's not recognized nor documented in any psychological or medical literature."

You scoff at that. "Yeah, I sure it hope it's not. I'm not a doctor, remember?"

He searches your face for an answer before breathing out incredulously. "Did you know that you have an incredible knack for saying the most terrible things?"

You smile at that. "Was I wrong?"

He think about the answer to that, before shaking his head 'no.' Because you're partially right, but he'd rather not correct you on what you're missing.

He looks down at your still intertwined hands, god he's been holding onto it for a while now, before quietly asking,

"Uh, how did you—?" He trails off. Not really knowing what he's asking.

You shrug. "You forget who you're working with. I notice these things, I notice you."

He flexes his eyebrows and thinks for a moment. "So what's your prognosis?"

You look to the corner of the small motel room to think before eventually settling on an answer.

"Only you can really find that out, Spencer."

You look back to see him already looking at you. "Your intelligence is an integral part of who you are, and that's why you're here. Your intellect isn't a barrier—it's a strength. So do what you will with that information."

"What if I can't find the answer?"

"Hm,"

Your legs are starting to get tired, so you move to get on the bed with him. Making sure that there's enough space for the both of you as you settle in. "You always have friends that can help you. Miss Jareau, Sir Morgan, Sir Hotchner, Miss—“

"Even you?"

The face he's making makes your chest feel tight, like there's a pressure building there and yet you don't know why. With his unusually shy behavior, and rounder eyes, it makes your usually impassive expression (to everyone else on the team, at least) soften.

"Especially me."

You pat the spot next to you as you recognize that you should've been asleep an hour ago. Telling Reid that you two should probably sleep so that you can make it tomorrow without being tired and he does just that.

"You don't think I rely on you too much?" You furrow your brows at that. Now looking at him from down on the bed.

"Not any more than you do sir Morgan."

He tries to see the point you're making but fails. So he turns to look at you.

"I don't really...rely on him."

"Exactly."

"...So I don't?"

"How about this," you can tell that being roundabout your answer isn't going to cut it, so you're going to have to switch gears.

"I don't think you do. But even if you did, I wouldn't mind. So if you find yourself ever needing, or wanting," you punctuate this with an earnest look into his eyes, "help from me specifically, in any way, at any time, just come to me—and ask for help. Say something like um, I don't know, uh—" you shake your head as you try to think.

'I need your help,' is too vague, you hear it all the time during cases. 'Could you do me a favor,' won't work either since it doesn't really excuse the both of you so—

"Can we look at this?", "I need you?"

You laugh. Actually laugh out loud at what you just heard. The words you just said practically blended into one another to the point where you don't even know who said what anymore, but that didn't really matter.

Spencer feels his face flush, and his volume increases due to his embarrassment. "Hey, I was just trying to—"

A loud knock is heard from the room's wall, followed by Morgan's voice.

"Newsflash, kids. Some of us are actually trying to sleep. Go argue about your theories later."

The boy-genius and you make eye contact before trying to stifle your laughter, you having a much harder time than the former before revisiting the conversation.

"You know what to tell me when you need me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Let's go to sleep."

You say goodnight, before turning your back to him so you can process what's going on. You wonder if the buzzing feeling you have would go away in time for an actual restful sleep.

You could use one on this case because it seems like the more you uncover, the more you're confused. Theories of all kinds swim in your head, ready to occupy your thoughts for a little while longer before hopefully sending you to a peaceful slumber.

Hotch is going to need you two ready and working.

And because of your nerves, you don't even notice Spencer turning his back to you too. Wondering if you had been feeling the same thing he was from the situation, from the contact, from the conversation, from everything.

Unlike you, he's for sure not getting any sleep.

[a/n] Every time I write for Spencer with this reader, he just can't catch a break-- Send in some ideas for the next part of the anthology if you'd like!! Like certain character interactions, dynamics, etc. I'd like to see what you're interested in seeing :DD

taglist: @crazychaoticizzy

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