#One of them in particular I think y’all would find thrilling

[epicthemusicalstuff]

I only have 7 drafts for this blog right now, which is shockingly low, because I am very fond of starting a thought and never finishing it. Don’t worry, most of them will get posted when the time is right, but still-

[chaotic-kitty]

Do u still do request? If so Can i request some Nsfw Hc on the main On For the love of gods? Pls? Well feel free to ignore this! I wont force😅😅

Hi!!! I haven’t officially opened up requests (I have been thinking about it though). But I would love to do this!! Thank you for your request, it was fun! Given that the story is only 6 chapter (plus Astrello’s story) it’s a bit hard to get a good, in depth read on them. I kinda ran out of ideas for Eeri in particular as i did a NSFW piece on them already. But i did my best to think of what they’d be like. Anyways, hope you like it and sorry for any mistakes.💕

FOR THE LOVE OF GODS NSFW HEADCANONS!!

WARNINGS: Explicit Content

Astrellio:

Very gentle

Is more into soft sensual s*x.

But he has a mischievous streak that will come out at the most unexpected times.

He will pull you into alleyways/side streets and make out with you. He will start running his hands up your thighs, or down your back just to see how far you will let him go.

If you’re feeling bold, turn the tables on him. Get on your knees. He will literally melt and be putty in your hands.🥵

You know that paid scene were he spends the night with you? That kiss where you experience/see the galaxies through his eyes? That happens a lot when you guys are ✨making love✨it makes the experience that much more intimate.

Trace/count his freckles *cough* stars *cough*. He loves it.

When he’s in in the mood, he just looks at you with his twinkly blush. If you catch him he will just keep on looking away. You will probably have to initiate.

If you consent….he loves finishing inside you….

He has been on his own for so long and hasn’t really had any real relationships….and none of a sexual nature. So for the first few months in particular he gets very excited, very easily.

One of his favourite things to do, is actually just you two lying in bed exploring each other’s bodies. Both sexually and not sexually. He loves the intense intimacy of it. Just running his hands all over you. Learning everything about you and committing all of you to memory.

His hair can get in the way. Y’all have gotten tangled in it multiple times.

Aurelia:

I can see her being in to temperature play.

Run ice cubes over her body. Over all of her sensitive areas.

While doing that, go down on her and edge her…

She will become a hot, whimpering mess🥵

Likes to use her heat powers on you in a similar fashion.

Wax play👀

Tease her!

Especially when y’all are out in public… She finds it thrilling.

She is VERY vocal

She loves when you play with (pull🤭) her hair.

Loves giving oral.

Because of her powers, people are aware if you two are doing the deed, as the immediate area gets lit up by her light and the temperature rises. So if you guys don’t want to be found out, its best to do it at her house where y’all are completely alone.

If you guys spend the night together, she hates having to leave you in the morning to go raise the sun. She is often torn between waking you up to say goodbye or letting you sleep. She doesn’t like the idea of you waking up alone.

Vidas:

Vidas is not just the deity of intellect but also of mischief. They relish in teasing the hell outta you but acting nonchalant about it.

Especially in public!

Being who they are, they know exactly what places to touch and things to say to get you riled up.

When you’re talking to someone, Vidas will come up behind you and whisper the dirtiest things in your ear, or touch you in a way they know will drive you mad! All while paying attention/activity participating in the conversation.

Is more dommy but when they do sub, they are an absolute brat.

Will tie you up and edge you, either with or without toys.

Certified virgin #1.

Doesn’t have any personal experience in s*x.

But they are basically the smartest person in the universe (as well as Eeri). They are very well educated on it. And because of this, they are honestly mind blowing in bed.

Will incorporate many different techniques.

They also have a soft side though. And when this side comes out, they want to do more intimate positions. Like The Face Off or Lotus positions

When they are in the mood. They will get clingy. They will be touching you more then usual. And be kinda quiet.

Eeri:

Certified virgin #2

While Eeri is very knowledgeable on the subject, they haven’t actually had s*x.

Given Eeri’s history, they are probably one of the most touch starved out of all of them.

They do have moments where they are overwhelmed by all of the feelings and emotions. (They can also have moments of intense dysphoria.) When this happens they need you to just hold them, and reassure them.

They have a praise kink.

When you guys are doing the deed, whisper in their ear about how good of a job they are doing ect.

You will be rewarded with some very sweet moans

They also love watching you go down on them. Especially when you look up at them.👀

Pretty vocal.

You will know if they aren’t focused on the activity at hand, because they will start sharing random pearls of wisdom.

As the relationship progresses they get more confident but at the start they are very shy and you will be the one initiating most things.

Calysta:

Has to enchant the bed with her strength after legit breaking it one too many times.

Will use her strength to pin you down (consensually).

Also uses her strength to hold you, effectively, in many different…..positions.😏

Can last quite a few rounds

Loves to be in control. Whether that be topping, or topping from the bottom.

Has a soft spot on her upper thigh, near the junction between her legs. If you bite it or kiss it she will loose all composure.

Likes food play.

Feed her chocolate covered strawberries or tease her by pouring hot melted chocolate on her.

Has a top tier collection of toys that she incorporates without hesitation.

Not too vocal, unless you really rile her up, in which case she will be very loud.

She likes breasts. And you cannot change my mind.

It doesn’t matter if you have like no breasts or huge ones. She will want to touch them, kiss them, ect.

Calysta is the Goddess of Strength. She is legit the strongest person in the universe. She is so scared of accidentally hurting you. Will definitely be very gentle.

Leonidas:

Massage play~

He works out religiously and even though he is a deity he can still get muscle cramps ect. He loves when you give him a massage. Heat the oils up to make things more interesting.

My man has a size kink.

If you’re shorter than him, he will use his height to his advantage. If you’re standing near a wall, he will come up and box you in. Or he will come up behind you with his arms thrown around you and hold you there.

(All consensually though. He will not do anything you dont like.)

But if you’re taller than him?

Oh dear gods, he will be incredibly turned on!

He is used to being the tallest.

You use your height against him? Congrats! You’ve just turned the God of Stamina into a hot, blushy mess.

Peg him! Literally peg him! He loves the feeling so much.

Likes it when you take control.

He also enjoys softer s*x.

General Headcanons:

All of them love you dearly. They are unbothered if you have any scars, stretch marks, and so forth.

They also do not care about your body type either. If you’re smaller? That’s okay! If you’re bigger? That’s great! They love you, all of you.

If you have:

Freckles- They will count them and press soft kisses on them.

Scars- They will ask about them and if you’re comfortable, trace them with their fingers. If you don’t like them or they hold bad memories they will do their best to make sure you’re okay and comfortable.

Tattoos- They will ask about why you chose them. If it hurt, ect. They subconsciously trace them especially when y’all are in bed.

Stretch marks- They are unbothered by them honestly. They know that people grow. Leonidas would definitely have some. If you are insecure about it, they will reassure you and press soft smooches all over them.

They are all honestly Touch Starved!

Once you start a relationship with them that becomes very obvious. They are all very touchy with you. Often they will have an arm around your waist or a hand on your shoulder.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb, part 5.2

Also yes this is a 5 part story arc, why do you ask, no I’m not “avoiding real life work”

Main Chat

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW THERE ARE THOSE WHO WOULD COMPLAIN ABOUT BEING DRAGGED OUT OF BED AT AN UNGODLY HOUR FOR THE SAKE OF SOME JEWELRY AND FORCED INTO AN ADVENTURE

Wu Xie: And we are just so grateful you are above all that.

Zhang Qiling: You were fully awake and insisted we pack and go as soon as possible in case there was, and I quote, “more weird shit happening we can cash in on.”

Wu Xie: I mean it’s kind of interesting that the Zhang family sent a car for us. We could have driven. So what is going on there, I wonder?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW FOR A PARANOID AND CONNIVING LITTLE SHIT YOU STILL RADIATE OBLIVIOUS BAMBI ENERGY

HATE TO BE THE ADMIRAL ACKBAR HERE BUT ITS DEF A TRAP MY BOY

WHY DO U THINK WE ARE MESSAGING AND NOT TALKING DUMMY

WERE YOU IN A TOMB ON THE DAY THEY TAUGHT PPL STRANGER DANGER

BUT NO NO YOU WERE ALL “LETS GET IN THE VAN WITH THE FREE CANDY AND PUPPIES I BET WE’RE GOING TO THE CIRCUS”

THIS IS THE LAST STRAW IM LOJACKING YOU FOR REAL THIS TIME, SHOULDVE DONE THIS YEARS AGO

Zhang Qiling: I agree, in this particular case, with Pangzi. You should not have gotten in their vehicle while we were still inside the house. It forced us to follow you into the van to prevent separation, and they seemed to be expecting that. I don’t know whether Zhang Rishan intended this, but I don’t trust him.

Wu Xie: :( I got excited and didn’t think it through. I’m sorry.

Wang Pangzi: DONT YOU GIVE US THE BIG EYES WE ARE IMMUNE

MOSTLY

SPEAKING OF IMMUNE ITS REALLY FUCKIN COLD IN HERE AND UR STILL SICK, PUT YOUR JACKET ON STUPID

Wu Xie: oh relax, I’m fine. No fever at all today, remember? I feel a lot better, too.

Wang Pangzi: YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE BUT TO HAVE XIAO GE INTERVENE

Zhang Qiling: It is odd to say this, but Pangzi is right again. You are barely back on your feet and could easily get worse again. Wu Xie. Jacket. Now.

Wu Xie: Oh fine. Teaming up on me, I see. Happy now?

Wang Pangzi: FUCKING ECSTATIC. NOW BACK TO HOW WE MAY BE PULLING A LI CU

Wu Xie: If it is an abduction, it wouldn’t be them moving against the whole Wu family—not with Uncle Erbai in charge. Zhang Rishan strikes me as someone who doesn’t make a move unless he is sure of his plan, and this is all a bit last-minute to be a big shift. Besides, they let Xiao Ge keep his sword and we still have all our phones.

Wang Pangzi: TOOK AWAY MY EXPLOSIVES THO THE BASTARDS

Zhang Qiling: In fairness, you were waving them around and yelling that if they tried anything it was going to be “yippeekiyay motherfucker all up in this bitch.”

Wang Pangzi: IT SOUNDS LESS COOL COMING FROM YOU. I THINK I SEE THE TEAHOUSE?

Wu Xie: me too. That’s Zhang Rishan on the steps. This must be urgent. Everybody stay shiny.

Zhang Qiling: I will be getting out first. Wu Xie in the middle, Pangzi at the rear.

Wang Pangzi: AND WHAT A VIEW;)

An hour later…

Main Chat

Wu Xie: Is everyone okay? I tried knocking but nothing is getting through, these are some solid walls.

Wu Xie: guys???

Wang Pangzi: OOPS PHONE WAS ON SILENT AND I WAS BUSY YELLING AT THE CEILING

IM PRESENT AND PISSED OFF

Zhang Qiling: Apologies, I was trying to break down the door.

Wang Pangzi: SO THIS MAY NOT BE THE TIME TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO BUT WHILE WE’RE HERE

Wu Xie: fuck Pangzi, I know, okay??

I’m an idiot, I’m so fucking stupid. It’s not like it’s the first or fiftieth time I’ve put you two in danger, either.

Wang Pangzi: HEY HEY WHOA NOW

STOP SAYING RUDE SHIT ABOUT MY FRIEND

ITS GONNA BE OKAY

DESPITE KNOWING THIS WAS A BAD IDEA I STILL COULDNT PREDICT HOW MUCH CHAOTIC LUCK THIS FAMILY HAS

DAMN IT I HATE WHEN HEI XIAZI IS RIGHT ABOUT THINGS

Zhang Qiling: I’m sorry. This is my fault. My line has a ruthlessly pragmatic streak and they’ve clearly wanted to test us separately to see why the necklace reacted to our arrival like that. It does not excuse Zhang Rishan trapping us in these separate rooms.

Wang Pangzi: UHH BITCH I SAID THIS FAMILY NOT YOUR FAMILY

THIS AINT ABOUT THEM

YOUR FAMILY IS ON MY SHIT LIST EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY

THIS FAMILY MEANT US OBVS

UGH ANY SIGN OF THE BASTARDS?

Zhang Qiling: no. Wu Xie?

Zhang Qiling: Wu Xie, answer me.

Wang Pangzi: WU XIE

TIANZHEN

PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE DAMNIT YOU'RE SCARING XIAOGE

Zhang Qiling: I’m going to try breaking down the door again.

Wu Xie: Hello, Wang Pangzi and Zhang Qiling. My apologies for the rather inhospitable circumstances, but this seemed expedient considering the unknown qualities of the necklace. I could not be sure who was causing what, or what could happen next, and thus have temporarily set you in separate rooms for the sake of everyone’s safety.

Wang Pangzi: WTF GIVE HIM BACK HIS FUCKIN PHONE ZHANG RISHAN I KNOW ITS YOU YOU PRETENTIOUS ANTIQUE

WE DESTROYED THIS PLACE BEFORE AND WE CAN DO IT AGAIN

Zhang Qiling: Your concerns for everyone’s safety are noted. Thank you for whatever you believe you’ve done right here.

Now. If you release us immediately and return Wu Xie to us, we will consider leaving without direct personal retribution.

Wang Pangzi: WHAT HE SAID AND ALSO YOU SUCK

Wu Xie: I regret that this has happened, I hope to make it up to you in the future. For the purpose of today’s needs, however—I will have my men escort the two of you out if you so desire, but unfortunately Wu Xie will need to stay until we have finished examining him.

Wang Pangzi: EXAMINING??? YOU FUCKING PERV HANDS OFF HE MAY BE THE BELLE OF THE BALL BUT HIS DANCE CARD IS SPOKEN FOR

I SWEAR I DID NOT GO THROUGH TEN YEARS OF THIS STARCROSSED CLUSTERFUCK FOR YOU TO SWOOP IN AND STEAL MY FRIENDS BF

Wu Xie: There is no call for rudeness. He will not be harmed. The artifact was responding to him directly. It has not lit up like this in over 200 years, and I need to understand why it is responding, and responding to someone who is not our kin, which it has never done before. This could have implications for everyone in my family if it could protect someone at the right moment.

Wang Pangzi: OKAY BUT CONSIDERING OUR TRACK RECORD IN THIS BUILDING AND THE SITUATION AT HAND Y’ALL ARE ABOUT TO NEED PROTECTION

Wu Xie: The testing would be going better if Wu Xie wasn’t worrying himself unnecessarily over where you both are, it’s making our readings difficult.

Wang Pangzi: OH GEE SO SORRY YOUR KIDNAPPING VICTIMS ARENT THRILLED TO BE HERE TO SAMPLE YOUR CREEPY JEWELRY BOX BUT THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM

Zhang Qiling: Zhang Rishan. I appreciate that you must think of our family first in your decisions. As must I. I hope you can appreciate what that means for decisions I make.

Wang Pangzi: HEHEHE SO TRUE BESTIE

YOU PISSED OFF THE WRONG GOTH TODAY BUDDY BOY

Zhang Qiling: A compromise: we stay with him as you run your tests. That will calm him and assuage Pangzi’s concerns and prevent me from…testing the limits of your lifespan.

Wu Xie: I accept that this may temporarily impact our relations, but am hopeful that you will come to understand that sometimes I need to make certain choices for this family that are…difficult. I will come to let you—One moment. Something seems to be happening.

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: OH SO WE ARE GONNA JUST POLITELY SIT WITH WU XIE AS STRANGERS POKE HIM WITH NEEDLES ARE WE HUH WELL LOOK WHOS BEING A HELPFUL LITTLE LAB ASSISTANT

Zhang Qiling: I’m attempting to convince him to let us out. Of course we will not simply sit there. Some lying to gain trust is necessary here.

Wang Pangzi: UR BEIN A SHADY BITCH XIAOGE AND ITS HOT

THATS WHY YOUR TATTOO IS SO BIG ITS FULL OF SECRETS

ALWAYS KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU TO—WAIT WHAT WAS THAT SOUND??

At the same time…

Bonnie and Clyde Chat

Xie Yuchen: …so, this is not what I expected to find.

Hei Yangjing: yeah kiddo is a bit freaked out:/ this sucks. I mean I get that they are concerned blah blah blah necklace goes brightbright but maybe we should go find the other two

or at least find a way to let Wu Xie know we are here, that room he’s in looks like a dungeon and not in a good way

Xie Yuchen: Does it look like I’m able to do anything right now? Also, I’m fairly certain they won’t be harmed. Zhang Rishan may be callous, but he isn’t stupid.

Hei Yangjing: r u kidding

he split up Romeo and Juliet, then left Romeo with a sword—seems pretty stupid to me

Xie Yuchen: Yeah I’m not going near that. He made his bed with that choice. What can you see? These Neanderthal guards are blocking my view.

Hei Yangjing: uh so there’s like a lab table situation

Wu Xie isn’t tied up, a good sign in this context

I can’t see what those people are holding, they’re talking a lot and some asshole just grabbed Wu Xie’s arm, looks like maybe they are putting in an IV?

The necklace is—oh. Oh shit.

[hopelesshawks]

Ash and Dust Part 7- Opportunities

18+ Dabi x fem!reader

Summary: You first meet Dabi on the worst night of your life after unwittingly walking into the very bar the League of Villains made infamous. That should probably be the end of the story. You stumble on the remnants of one of the most infamous terrorist groups in the history of Japan, get viciously murdered or call the cops and get them arrested, the end. Except that’s not the end of the story. It’s only the beginning.

Masterlist Help Lulu (Kofi)

Waking up the morning after reclaiming your bedroom (at least in part) is jarring for two reasons.

The first is that you’re waking up next to Dabi.

For some reason you thought he might wake up before you, even though he’s pretty routinely demonstrated that he’s not an early riser. Perhaps you expected the knowledge that he was sleeping in the same bed as you to perturb him enough to get him up early. Instead your eyelashes had fluttered open to find him still deeply asleep with his face only a few inches from yours.

You fully intended on simply rolling over to either fall back asleep or get on with your day but you’d found yourself enthralled with his sleeping face instead. You know Dabi’s smirks, sneers, and scowls like the back of your hand after a little over a month of living with him. His resting face, however, is entirely foreign to you. You’ve never had a moment alone with him where he wasn’t antagonizing you and it’s odd to see him so peaceful. Your eyes trace over his face, taking in the extent of the scarring on his jaw and beneath his eyes, but also appreciating the unmarred expanses of skin as well. It strikes you that Dabi is pretty. It shouldn’t be surprising considering what you’ve seen of the youngest Todoroki in the press but even still. In another world where he’d never become the wanted criminal he is today, you wonder if he’d be a heartbreaker or a sweet, gentle type. Would he be as quiet and polite as his brother seems to be or would he still get a thrill from bantering with someone who isn’t afraid to banter right back? Would he be in the tabloids with a different girl every week or settle down early with his high school sweetheart? You’re fascinated by the idea of what the scarred man before you would be without the tragedy and the trauma. You might’ve sat there just taking him in until he woke up if not for the second reason waking up that morning was so jarring.

Your phone has been pinging literally non-stop.

You’ve never resented your notification sound more as its shrill tone continues to echo in your room, putting the fragile peace at risk. Even before you found yourself as alone as you are now your phone was never this busy. As much as you try to ignore it and wait for the tidal wave of what you assume are spam notifications to end, the sound finally drives you to turn over and grab it. Your eyes widen as you take in the sheer amount of Twitter notifications you have. As you unlock your phone and navigate over to the app your mentions are literally flooded with Deku fans screaming about your talent and how lucky you are. It’s a confusing litany of fangirling that you try to weed through until you get to one mention in particular that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You got a mention from the rising hero himself.

Holy shit.

You’ve never clicked a tweet so quickly in your entire life. Not only are you stunned to find he’s seen and loved your work but he also mentions wanting to talk if you’re interested. Sure enough, when you navigate over to the messages section of the app, a feature you’ve never bothered to use, you notice a message request from Midoriya ‘Deku’ Izuku waiting for you. It takes everything in you not to scream as you read the message there over and over before finally hopping out of bed and moving to the kitchen to call the number he’d left you. It’s a little endearing that he’d been so quick to hand out his number to a complete stranger on the internet but you also can’t help but wonder how someone so naive could be the same man drawing headlines over his heroics and combat skill. You’re not exactly a Deku fangirl but it’s still wild to be dialing a celebrity’s number as you punch in the numbers and then wait for it to ring.

On literally the second ring the phone is answered. “Pro Hero Deku at your service! Who’s calling?” the young man answers chirpily. “Uhh, this is (y/l/n)? You messaged me on twitter?” “Oh! Right! Yes! Hello! One second!”

You can hear Deku excusing himself from whatever room he’s in, a disgruntled voice mumbling something you can’t hear, causing Deku to reply with a hushed “Sorry Kacchan! I’ll be right back!” before there’s more shuffling and finally the sound of a heavy door closing.

“Ok I’m back! Thanks for reaching out to me so quickly!” he finally says now that he’s, apparently, in a better place to talk.

“Yea, of course I guess I’m just shocked you liked my art so much and really appreciate you drawing so much attention to it,” you explain, feeling short of breath at how surreal the situation is.

“Of course! You’re really talented! Your work deserves to get attention!”

“Thank you but, uh, why exactly did you want me to call you?”

“Right! It’s about your artwork.”

“Ok?”

“I want to sell it!”

“What?”

“Wait well no not sell it. Or not sell that particular piece although it is a nice piece and if you wanted to theoretically you could probably sell it although I guess it’s available for free online already so maybe people wouldn’t want to pay for it. Although it’s a painting right? And people buy or pay to go see paintings you can see online all the time so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad but if it’s for your own enjoyment you may not want to give it up which would be totally understandable and also how would that work logistically? If the painting is rather large it may be unwieldy to try and ship it to whoever purchases it, in which case would you have to meet up to try and give it to them by hand? But then that necessitates meeting up with a complete stranger on the internet and what if the person who buys it doesn’t live near you or, since it is the internet, doesn’t even live in Japan? Then you have to contend with international shipping and-”

“Uhh, Deku?” you ask cautiously, barely able to process the mumbling of the young man on the phone.

“Ah! Sorry! I can kinda end up on tangents sometimes... What I mean to say is that I’m not trying to sell the painting you posted or anything but I think you’re really talented as an artist and one of my friends is looking for someone to design a new merch collection.”

One of his friends? Your mind instantly starts running through his impressive list of ex classmates. Your first thought is Dynamight and immediately you shudder at the idea. He may be years younger than you but the aggressive pro hero still scares the shit out of you. Uravity could be an interesting hero to work with although you’re not quite sure you vibe with her aesthetic. Or maybe he’s talking about the new Ingenium?

“You’re real fucking loud in the mornings, you know that Doll?” Dabi asks with a groan as he comes walking into the room with a stretch.

You hurry to shush him, not wanting to lose the opportunity being presented to you, which earns you a curious look. Before you can react Dabi is snatching your phone out of your hand and putting it on speaker. You don’t dare protest verbally and risk alerting Deku of the situation so you have to settle for glaring at Dabi as he smirks at you.

“Yea so, anyway, Shouto really needs new merch but wanted something a little more sophisticated on the designs and I feel like you’d be perfect for that you know? Making all his stuff mini works of art. So what do you say?” Deku asks, his voice still brimming with that same enthusiasm while your blood runs cold. You’re genuinely scared to look up at Dabi’s face to see what he thinks about the idea of you working with his little brother. You hold your breath, Deku’s chipper voice going nervous as he asks “Hello? You still there?”

To your immense surprise, when you finally have the courage to bring your eyes up to meet Dabi’s, he’s got an almost feral grin. “You better take the fucking job,” he hisses delightedly, sending a chill down your spine as you stutter out a response to Deku, your eyes never leaving Dabi’s.

“Yea, sorry just processing. I’d, uh, I’d be happy to help out.”

“Great! I’ll pass your number on to Shouto and you two can meet up and figure out details!”

“Ok.”

“Cool, thanks (y/l/n)! Hopefully I’ll see you around!”

You hum noncommittally before hanging up the phone, still waiting for the other shoe to drop as you practically watch the gears turning in Dabi’s head.

“You’re…. Not mad I’m going to be working with your brother?” you ask cautiously.

“Oh no, I’m fucking delighted Doll. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna help me have a little fun.”

A/N: We are finally starting to get to the meat of the story omg. I’m sorry this fic has been so slow going, especially compared to my others, but if you stick with I’m pretty sure it’ll be worth it. I appreciate each and every one of y’all that’s been reading this fic because main motivation to write it has been hard

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

Azriel surprises Gwyn for her birthday: part 2

It took me long enough but HERE IT IS. ty again @katiebellf for giving me the idea! hope y’all like it and bear in mind it’s my first time doing this sort of thing in english

Check out Part 1 here!

And chapter list!

A few weeks went by, and Azriel did his best job in hiding from Gwyn what he planned for her birthday. Not that she seemed particularly thrilled to bring the subject up; in fact, the more days passed, the restless she became. She didn’t have to say anything: he could see it in her eyes, in how she spent more and more time practicing at the House of Wind each night, and how he sometimes caught her looking up at the sky, a desolated and utterly sad expression on her face.

It was at those moments usually where he would start teasing her over anything, inviting her for some random challenge just because he thought it would cheer her up. He couldn’t stand watching her like this; his shadows seemed to agitate, trying to reach her, soothe her. At most times she bought it, and he was relieved to see that glimpse of determination rise to surface again, that will to thrive and to be the best that always seemed to accompany Gwyn wherever she went.

Even though Azriel’s plan was certain, he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous of her reaction when she saw the gift. He really didn’t want to be meddling in, but he felt she might need this: the distraction that her birthday for many years was shared with Catrin, and now she’d have to celebrate it on her own for the rest of her life. An official reminder of her sister’s absence.

He was wearing that mask of light amusement in the morning she showed up for training and almost immediately got embraced by Nesta and Emerie, but couldn’t help his concern when he saw her giving a hesitant, timid smile.

“So, my spies have told me it is your birthday today” he casually approached her, trying his best to make that frown in her face go away.

And it worked.

“Oh did they, Spymaster? How very thoughtful of them- or you” she teasingly responded, as a playful smile appeared on her face.

He smiled back at her. She looked so beautiful, he thought, her freckles glowing in that bright sunny morning, her teal eyes staring up at him. His shadows seemed to agree with him as they reached to her.

“Happy birthday” Az bowed slightly and she chuckled, returning the movement.

“Well, thank you” She said, both to him and his playful shadows.

“Will I see you for brunch?” He asked casually, to which she nodded. “So let’s begin, then. Don’t think because it is your birthday that I’d go easy on you, Berdara.”

She laughed louder this time, and his shadows seemed to dance at the sound. She took her place across from him at the ring and started her stretching.

“I wouldn’t dare, Shadowsinger.”

******

The rest of the training passed peacefully. Though Nesta and Emerie had greeted Gwyn with such enthusiasm, Azriel knew the females were as aware of the depths of Gwyn’s hurt as he was. He could see it by their caring and slightly gentler tone, how they seemed more understanding of the fact that today Gwyn seemed to be pushing harder on practice, or how, at brunch, she sometimes seemed aloof, staring at the horizon as she quietly laughed at Nesta and Cassian’s usual bantering.

“So, Gwyn” Cassian asked, and Az remained looking at his plate. “Do you have any plans for today?”

She didn’t, and Azriel knew that. Nesta and Emerie had kept him on the loop as to everything they would and wouldn’t do today.

“Well” She paused, taking another bite at her waffle. “I’ll probably work for Merril at the library and then I’ll have some time to kill before our girl’s night”

Emerie and Nesta nodded and smiled, looking as innocent as they could be.

“That seems nice. Suppose we’ll have to leave the House then, brother” Cassian said looking at the Shadowsinger, brows raised high.

“Oh, well-” Gwyn started, but Nesta interrupted her.

“Of course you have. Gwyn might be too polite to banish you, but we don’t want two males being a drag, drinking all our wine and ruining our talk. We have way too many smutty books to discuss, and you two” she pointed at both of the Ilyrians with her fork. “Would only present a distraction.”

Azriel fought a smile as Cassian leaned back on the chair.

“Good to know our presence means a distraction to such strong and witted females” Cassian teased, and Nesta scolded, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know about you” Emerie added, smirking playfully at the two Valkyries “but I couldn’t care less about them being there or not – at least, not in that particular way.”

Azriel’s shadows agitated slightly at that statement; even more so when he looked over to see Gwyn blushing as she stared at her plate of fruits with way too much interest. Silence took over, and the male fixed his gaze on Nesta, who seemed to be screaming at him quietly, mouthing something like “Ask her, you idiot”.

“So… No evening training today, I see?” Azriel forced himself to look at Gwyn, taking in all that beautiful sight. She was flushed from training, her beautiful copper hair tied in a ponytail. “If you want, we could train in the afternoon. After you finish your work, I mean”

“Aren’t you busy today?” She asked, slightly surprised at his invitation.

Their evening trainings have been occurring for months now, and he liked their usual encounters more than he would admit. Sometimes, she would do most talking, others both of them would, and sometimes they’d just stand in silence, practicing movements and challenging each other to be the best. If she left the ring before he got there, as it use to happen some nights due to his work, he’d always know, both from her scent and from the way she left things almost as if purposefully in different places, as if she knew he’d pass by anyway and rearrange them all back to its usual spots.

Having this kind of contact every day, they were starting to know each other in a way Azriel never really had with anyone but his brothers. And even with them, it was somehow different. With Gwyn, it started by the silence. It was never uncomfortable, not even with hard subjects. Most times, she would break it, but every now and then he’d feel the need to drift her off her thoughts, usually by sharing his own stories. Not very detailed, but enough for her to know he cared. Azriel didn’t know why, but he felt the urge to show Gwyn he cared. And he could see, by the way her eyes brighten and brows rose with genuine interest, that she knew what he was trying to do, and appreciated him for it.

He was getting good on knowing her quirks, either. Not the ones he was trained as a Shadowsinger to find out, but the subtler ones. Like when she was finally starting to feel tired after hours of training, her eyelids fluttered and a small frown appeared on her face, not dissolving even when she laughed. And when she was really feeling good about herself, usually after winning a bet or an argument, she would hum. He’d often pretend to be slightly annoyed by his loss, even if he couldn’t hold his smile as he watched her sing.

“I’m not, not today.” Azriel drifted away from his thoughts, smiling at the Priestess.

She nodded and smirked, assuming that competitive posture and adding, with a tinge of mischief and defiance.

“I see someone wants a rematch, huh? Wasn’t it enough being beat up by me at my birthday, Shadowsinger?”

He huffled a laugh and focused on her, adverting his gaze from the slightly raised brows and amused expression everyone at the table seemed to be making at them.

He would let Gwyn believe that was the sole reason he wanted to train with her later.

[bertrumstrousers]

It is time to share with you the first installment of my mildly self-indulgent combination fanfiction-theory-AU that I like to call

Bad Blood

Chapter I: Would You, Could You?

As a soft trickle of water fell from Lacie’s pitcher into the birdbath, a nearby pigeon showed his appreciation by flapping its way over and, with a marked lack of grace, hopped from its landing spot into the basin with a loud splash. Lacie watched in amusement for a minute as the chubby gray bird made quick work of slinging the water out of the bath and directly onto the sun-warmed lawn. “I ain’t surprised the big guy finds you little things so funny.”

Lacie Benton’s retirement alongside her partner, Bertrum Piedmont, had become a predictable, domestic cycle—she moved from the garden to the kitchen, the living room to the porch and back again, with the occasional excursion off Bertrum’s expansive property for an errand. It was not unlike Bertrum to take her on dates on occasion as well, but aside from that, her days were predictable. Life was safe. Familiar.

Familiar until the paperboy tossed the evening newspaper at her feet with a cheerful wave and his classic, “Howdy there, Ms. Benton!” as he blew by on his trusty old bicycle.

There was no way she could have known that within those pages, a single headline would break that cycle.

With a curt “thanks” in reply to the departing young gentleman, Lacie scooped up the paper, gave a nodding farewell to the soaked and grooming pigeon and swept back into the warm comfort of the house.

~

The comfort of familiarity was not lost on Bertrum. A return to retirement after a tumultuous and grueling six years at Joey Drew Studios was a welcome one. His age had slowly caught up with him and, like a crisp wave against stone, smoothed the craggy edge of his once-infamous arrogance.

Like stone, however, it only took a crushing blow of substantial force against a fault to expose that sharp edge once again.

That fault was Bertrum’s pride, and that crushing blow came from that unassuming newspaper.

Lacie’s drawling voice pulled Bertrum’s attention away from the blanket he was busy knitting. She wasn’t sure whether he knit to actually make anything in particular or he knit to keep his hands busy now that they no longer worked upon a drafting table. “Hey, big guy.” She plopped the paper into his lap unceremoniously. “Got yer paper. Save me the crossword, if you don’t mind.”

“Gladly. Thank you, love.” Bertrum set his knitting aside and took her hand to draw her in for a peck on the cheek. With that, he placed his legs on the ottoman and settled deeper into the chair he occupied to lose himself in whatever the paper had to offer. The gentle pops of the burning logs in the fireplace put him at ease and the fire’s light gave the paper a friendly glow. After fishing out and setting aside the game at Lacie’s request, Bertrum neatly folded the remainder of the pages for ease of reading.

Several boring articles later, the name “Joey Drew Studios” in the far corner of the page caught his eye.

“Joey Drew Studios Unveils Innovative New Thrills At New Jersey Theme Park”

Lacie’s soft humming and pencil scratches became inaudible as his heart sent hot, angry blood rushing to his head and his pulse thudded behind his ears.

The more Bertrum read, the tighter his grip on the paper got. He ranted to himself internally. His thoughts were littered with fiery accusations and, as the article continued singing Joey’s praises, curses that grew more numerous and increasingly foul.

‘Those are mine.’ Bertrum repeated the same thought as nauseum. The words varied, but at their core, all the claims were the same. ‘He claimed my ideas were useless, but he kept them. The liar. The cheat! He kept my pla—‘

The words both on the page and racing through the man’s mind halted as his eyes, clouded with furious tears, settled on a small photo. It was mildly distorted by the dithered printing, but enraged him all the same. The subtitle, however, was what prompted his vocal outburst.

‘Joey Drew cuts the red ribbon on the turnstiles of the studio’s newest state-of-the-art thrill ride.’

“YOU BLOODY CHEATER!!”

Lacie fumbled her pencil in surprise. “Bertrum, damn, it’s just a crossword, I think I’m allowed t’use a dictionar—“

“NO!” Bertrum slammed his feet to the ground and shot from his chair, nearly knocking the table lamp to the floor. “HE STOLE THEM! EVERY LAST ONE!!” With a furious roar Lacie had only ever heard coming from the mouth of a bear, Bertrum pitched the now-balled up wad of paper into the fireplace. With the object of his rage now alight, he stood stock-still and silent, save for his ragged, shallow breaths.

“…y’all right, big guy…?”

The light of the fire, once warm and inviting, now only sharply highlighted the creases in his face, made harsher by his grimace.

Bertrum rumbled, “Get some rest, Lacie. The booking station opens at seven and the Pullman cars sell out quickly.”

“Where’s you goin’ in such a hurry? I thought you wasn’t goin’ to travel anymore.” Lacie squinted her eyes at her irate partner. “And last time we got on a train, ya said payin’ up for them Pullman sleeper cars were the worst idea you’d ever had.”

As Bertrum shook his head, Lacie couldn’t help but notice that the light of the flames consuming the newspaper glinted off a tear that was flung from his face. “Lacie, I’ve had worse ideas. One of those was taking up the offer from Mr. Drew.” He sighed shakily. “I can’t take that back. But…” Bertrum lifted his head to focus on the nearly-consumed paper. “I can certainly take back something else.”

[yikeslads]

A Relaxing Evening - Yandere Sero Hanta x Reader

Trigger Warnings! - 18+ only. Non Con (sex and non con drug use). If this bothers you p l e a s e do not read this fic! You are responsible for your own consumption and this is your official warning. Also they smoke a lot of weed in this but I don’t think that really needs a warning but idk

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Long time no see (please don’t kill me, I’ve been hella busy). I’ve started my last year at university so I am super thrilled about that, just turned 21, and I have spent my entire summer working full time. But enough about me, I’m sure everyone is dealing with a ton with the pandemic plus whatever they have. Anyways, I will be doing my best to update more! I have a WIP that should be released soon (i only have like 400 words left) so that should be fun. 

Big big big big thanks to @yanderart ! If you don’t know recognize the name, she is a phenomenal artist (both in visual and literary works, an icon) who shares the yandere/dark love. Thank you SO much for your super helpful edits/comments/encouragement with this <3 

Also thanks to @opheliadawnwalker3 for the advice to start small when getting back into the writing game! I took that to heart and tried to keep it shorter this time and helped me get this out so thank you!

And thanks to @rat-suki @weebsinstash @drxwsyni because I have definitely binged all of y’alls content and used the immaculate yandere vibes you write as inspo so thank you <3 

Now let’s get started!

It was eerily silent in the hallway as your feet made their way to their destination through the mostly abandoned college dormitory. Your mind was so preoccupied with the many thoughts that demanded your attention that you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. Not that it mattered. You had made this walk so many times, you could find your way even if you were blindfolded and hammered, that you were allowed to fully slip into your thoughts without having to worry. Before long you were standing in front of a very familiar door, the only one in the hallway with light peaking through the crack at the bottom. Music could clearly be heard through it, Jimi Hendrix’s singing the only sound of human life that you had encountered during your entire walk over here.

It took you a moment to snap out of your thoughts and come back to reality and notice that you were already standing at your destination. Clearing your throat awkwardly at the realization, you raised your arm and knocked solidly on the door to be heard above the music and waited as patiently as you could for an answer.

From behind the door you could hear someone swear, causing a small smirk to rise on your face, along with the sound of some rustling. A few moments later the door cracked open a bit as the familiar raven haired male peaked into the hallway, a bright smile pulling at his lips as he  regarded you.

“Well this is a pleasant surprise!” Sero chirped, opening the door all the way, seeing that it was only you standing in the hallway. “What can I do for ya, sunshine?”

His cheery, warm response to your presence unknowingly brought a small smile to your face, a needed break from your tense, concentrated expression you had been wearing when Sero first opened the door.

“Sorry to bother you, Sero,” you began, stuffing your hands into the pockets of the jacket you were wearing to stop you from wringing them anxiously. “I’ve just been really stressed with final exams and choosing which agency I want to officially sign for and… it’s just been a lot.” As you explained, Sero’s face softened slightly as he listened intently to your words, not liking the fact that you were so stressed.

“Anyway,” you continued with a chuckle, bringing yourself back onto the subject, “I was wondering if you had any of your stash left that I could buy from you? I know I bought from you a little while ago, but I’ve been more stressed out than I can handle,” you admitted, hoping that Sero might still have some weed hidden away in his room somewhere that you could use.

It was a little into sophomore year of college that you found out that your classmate, Sero, was a bit of a stoner. And as someone going through the hero course, you are understandably dealing with a lot of stress. So what’s wrong with smoking a little Mary J every once in a while to relax, right? Or at least that’s what you told yourself when you first asked Sero if you could buy weed from him. Ever since then he had been your personal plug, but over time, you two became close friends. “I think you might be in luck, sunshine, I think I have some on reserves. Come on in,” he welcomed, and you crossed the threshold without a second thought. As you stepped inside and took off your shoes, a large but gentle arm carefully looped around your shoulders, gently pulling you into the tall man’s side as you led you to the couch and sat you down on the soft fabric in front of his laptop that was open and had various work assignments in different windows.

“Tell ole Sero what’s troubling you,” Sero propositioned as he moved to his desk, opening a drawer and grabbing his needed paraphernalia as he waited for you to begin speaking. He settled down next to you on the couch, pulling the small table holding the laptop in front of you a little closer as he set down his bong, and pulled out his grinder and began the process of loading you a bowl.

You were about to begin venting, but you paused as you took in the sight of Sero wordlessly working for your benefit, and you pulled your wallet out of your jacket pocket after a few seconds. “Sorry, before I forget, how much do I owe you?” You asked, opening your wallet and beginning to pull out a few bills. You didn’t get far though, as a warm hand covered yours, drawing your eyes to meet his black ones. He gave you a boyish smile and shook his head at you, giving a small laugh. “No way, sunshine. You need a little break, this one is on me,” he offered with a grin. You were hesitant for a few moments, not seemingly convinced that you should let him give you part of his stash for free. The potential feeling of guilt ebbed away as Sero’s warm smile never faltered, kindness seemingly exuding from his every pore. What was the harm, right? Nodding, you gingerly took the loaded bong from his large, calloused hands into your own smaller ones.

“Alright,” you agreed thoughtfully as you mirrored his smile, “but I want you to smoke with me. It’s no fun getting high alone,” you countered to which you could almost see Sero’s eyes sparkle in response at your words.

“I would be happy to,” he assured, never one to miss out on the chance to smoke, especially with you, but you added one more condition.  

“And,” you drawled, his eyes never leaving your face as he waited patiently for you to continue. “Whatever food we order when we are stoned off our asses is on me.”

A soft chuckle resonated from Sero’s chest as he nodded along to your stipulation, finding no qualm with having the promise of food.

“Deal,” he agreed, and with that you went to take your first bong hit of the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your sides ached as you tried to force yourself to stop laughing, but your efforts seemed trivial as Sero laughed just as hard, if not harder, alongside you as you finished Sero’s favorite flick, Scott Pilgrim vs the World. It felt so good to let go and really laugh, it had started to feel like it had been too long. Time seemed a distant concept to you at the moment, as nothing from the outside world weighed on you as you merrily enjoyed your high with Sero.

Your eyes were pink from smoking, little tears forming at the base of your lower eyelashes as you gasped for breath as your laughing fit began to subside. You don’t even remember what you had been laughing about exactly, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Your attention was brought back to Sero as he began to rise from his spot beside you on the couch, your eyes following his lazy movements as the movie credits began to roll.

“I’m getting a bit of cottonmouth,so why don’t I get us some drinks while you choose something else for us to watch?” Sero offered to which you agreed, lazily beginning to scroll through the other titles that were currently available on Netflix as Sero made his way over to the little kitchen he had equipped.

“Thirsty for anything in particular?” You heard his voice call out to you, but you didn’t take your eyes off the laptop screen, still searching for another flick to watch.

“Just water would be fantastic,” was your response as you searched through the comedy section, knowing that Sero preferred comedies.

A few moments later, Sero had returned to your side, a glass of water in one hand for you and a soda can for him in his other hand. Thanking him as you gently took it from his hands, you took the glass and raised it to your lips. Taking large sips, reveling in the cool feeling of the water flowing over your tongue and to the back of your throat, you failed to notice a pair of eyes watch your every movement adoringly.

“Wanna take another hit?” Sero asked as you finished taking a drink, setting down the mostly empty glass back down on the table.

You hummed in thought at his question, before nodding, a small giggle escaping your lips, “What’s one more hit, right?”

Sero, the practiced stoner he is, had another bowl set up for you ready to go in what seemed like seconds, graciously handing you the now loaded bowl. Gently taking it from his hands and placing it in the bong, you fired up the lighter and took a huge hit.

A h u g e hit. It was a little larger than you had meant, but being high had made your judgement a little empaired. You coughed a bit as you expelled the wave of smoke from your lungs, waving your hands as Sero laughed.

Your cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment at Sero laughing as you tried to regain your composure. “S-Stop laughing!” You cried, setting the bong back down, but Sero just shook his head.

“I can’t help it, sunshine. Seeing you not being able to take that hit is hilarious,” he continued to laugh, as your cheeks burned warmer at his words.

“Its not my fault that I don’t have your iron lungs,” you mocked, picking up your glass once more and finishing the contents in an attempt stop your coughing fit. “Not all of us are stoners.”

A small gasp tore from Sero’s throat, as he held a hand to his chest, pretending to be surprised by your words. “Me? A stoner? How could you even say such a thing?” He asked, shooting you a kicked puppy look which just made you giggle in return, your head feeling a little fuzzy from the extra hit.  

“Oh don’t be a baby,” patting the spot next to you, you flashed Sero a loopy smile, “come on, lets watch another movie,” you countered to which Sero agreed to, settling back down in his spot beside you. You reached forward, setting your now empty glass next to the laptop and hit play on the movie, before moving back into the cushions. Your body began to feel heavier as  you gingerly leaned into Sero’s side, who in return wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gently tugged you a little closer to his chest as the intro finished and the movie began.  

You weren’t long into the movie before you were struggling to keep your eyes opened. You shifted slightly, trying to force yourself to wake up, but the more that the time wore on, the harder it became to stay awake.

It wasn’t more than twenty minutes into the film before you were out cold, your deep and even breathing soft in Sero’s ear as your tired figure slept against his shoulder.

“Sunshine,” Sero whispered, tentatively placing a hand on your knee and gently shaking you. He watched your face carefully for any sign of rousing, but your breathing continued at its deep, even, undisturbed pace. An eager smile danced across Sero’s visage at your lack of response, his heart pounding in his chest in excitement. Wrapping his strong arms around your pliable person, Sero gently maneuvered your sleepy shape to be laying on your back, tummy up, the skirt you had worn riding up on your thighs as your leg lay limply, slightly apart.

Sero took a moment just watching you, drinking in all of your beauty. You looked so sweet and vulnerable asleep on Sero’s couch defenseless. He gazed at your unconscious body oh so lovingly as you lay completely helpless to the danger that lurks around you. It makes Sero’s heart squeeze in his chest in realization that you need him. You needed him to protect you and Sero would happily be your knight in shining armour.

“Her knight in shining honor”, Sero thought to himself merrily, infatuated with protecting his little ray of sunshine. His fingers began to skim the skin of your thighs, slowly pushing your skirt up higher and higher. Shouldn’t your knight get a little reward for his services? Sero certainly thought so, afterall it was only fair that he get to enjoy his sunshine in return for all he does for you.

Sero’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of your black laced panties, skirt bunched up past your hips, leaving your panty clad intimate parts exposed for his greedy eyes. There were no such things as imperfection to Sero when it came to you. All of your little bumps, blemishes, and things you didn’t like about yourself were all things that Sero adored about you. It's what made you you, and he simply ached to worship you.

Hungry hands hooked fingers into your panties, swiftly pulling the soft material down your supple skin in earnest. A groan tore from Sero’s throat at the sight of sticky, clear strings sticking from the fabric to your little treasure.

Fuck was he glad he slipped you an aprodiasic alongside the sleeping pills. Seeing your hole already wet and begging for his attention had his pants quickly tenting uncomfortably. He could not wait to get started.

Moving quickly and silently, he settled himself on his stomach between your thighs, carefully placing your thighs over his shoulders. His starved stare meets your slick slit and he couldn’t stop himself from licking a stripe up your lips, moaning at the delicious taste of your essence. His eyes flickered back to your face where he found you still sound asleep, unaware of reality.

“Perfect”, he thought to himself at your unconscious state, “just like last time.”

Confident in his security, Sero began to feast on your unprotected pussy, his tongue swiping through your folds as he drank every ounce of you in. His eyes almost rolled into the back of his head at your taste as if he was tasting the most divine thing ever created. He couldn’t seem to get enough as his hands encased your thighs, hungrily pulling your closer to his famished mouth. Your breath quickened in pace at Sero’s ministrations but the sleeping pills kept you nestled peacefully in between complete unconsciousness and your dreams, deep asleep. It seemed almost as if Sero had been eating you out for hours when he had finally come up for air, sucking in deep gulps of air into his lungs greedily.  He knelt in front of your vulnerable body, lips and chin shiny with your slick as he slipped a finger into your heat, quickly followed by another as he gently began to scissor your walls apart. Your warmth gushed around his fingers as he worked you open for him, using his free hand to slip down to his belt and make quick work of that before tugging his boxers and pants down. His cock now free of confinement slapped against his abs before he gently removed his fingers from your heat. Your juices completely soaked his hand as he brought it to his cock, using your wetness to get him slick for you. He watched your sleepy face as he stroked himself, his bottom lip caught between his lip as he intently drank in your features. With both of your bodies prepped, patience grew thin, so he tilted his hips down, nudging your dripping entrance with his plush tip, your legs lazily spread and looped loosely around his hips.

Slipping himself between your folds, Sero took a deep breath before pressing himself into your warm, wet, tight cavern. He didn’t stop slowly driving his cock into your twitching heat until he became fully sheathed inside your awaiting pussy. He groaned softly at the feeling of his cock being encased by your velvet walls, his eyes never leaving your face as he adjusted to the delicious feeling you were giving him. After a few moments of adjustment, Sero pulled his hips back, feeling his manhood drag against your plush walls, a soft moan escaping your sleeping shape as you stirred slightly in your hazy state. Once you settled and he was positive you were going to stay asleep, he drove his hips forward into your cunt his eyes moving away from your face and down to where his cock was buried deep inside of you. The erotic sight of you being fucked by his cock kicked him into gear as he soon found a steady rhythm as he pounded into you.

With every thrust of his hip, your cream coated his silken rod, making Sero almost feral with the sight. It took every ounce of self control he had to not fuck you the way you deserved, the way you needed him, but he couldn’t risk having you wake up during your little relaxation session. It took every ounce of self control that he possessed to keep himself from fucking you silly, but with plans for the pair of you in the future, he was willing to wait to rock your world for when you were awake and in more of a … receptive position to receive the full force of his love for you.  

It wasn’t long before Sero found himself reaching his end, much to his displeasure, but he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was able to get to do this again. He always made excuses to get the two of you alone, for “purely innocent reasons” according to your knowledge. He couldn’t help it! He loved you too much, and he needed to get his fix.

“F-Fuck,” he moaned as he fucked himself into your pussy, panting softly as he drew close to his completion. “You feel so good, sunshine. You were made for my fucking cock, shit,” he swore, his thrusts becoming increasinly sloppy. He pulled himself out before he came, hips hovering over yours as his hand frantically worked his length trying to finish himself off.

“Fuck yes!” Sero growled as he came, hot white, sticky ropes of cum decorating your glistening pussy as he furiously worked his hand over his cock. “God, love you so much,” he groaned as he finished,  hovering over you as he caught his breath. His eyes watched as his cum dripped down your pussy, becoming entangled with your own juices. Without skipping a beat, Sero reached over and grabbed his phone, taking a quick snapshot of your fucked out pussy covered in his essence and saved it in a secret gallery of pictures he kept of you. He needed to add to the collection, something to help tide him over until the next time. Setting his phone back down, he leaned over you and gently kissed you, like a lover would, savoring your lips while you were still asleep. Breaking the kiss, he gazed lovingly down at you, gently playing with a strand of your hair. He wished this moment would never end, but he knew that he had to get going, sighing softly to himself.

It was time to start up the cleaning process.

~~~~~~~~~~

A phone ringing caused you to stir from your deep slumber, a deep yawn escaping your lips as you stretched your stiff body from sleeping on the couch. You rubbed your eyes slightly as you woke up, before you took in the room before you. You saw Sero back turned to you as he spoke in hushed tones over the phone, hearing Bakugo’s voice grunting something to him over the phone about working out later that day. You glanced around the room as you yawned again, slightly confused as to how you got here before remembering coming over to Sero’s place the previous night after being really stressed and wanting to take a break. It wasn’t long until Sero finished his phone call, turning back to your and finding you awake, looking back at him.

“Sorry,” Sero began, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized sheepishly with a small smile, taking in your figure.

“It’s no worries,” you hum out sleepily finding yourself naturally returning his smile. “Did I pass out last night?” You asked, not fully remembering what had happened after that last bong hit.

“Yeah! You fell asleep about maybe half way through the first movie? I don’t remember exactly when, I was paying too much attention to the movie,” he lied smoothly, your face showing telltale signs of embarrassment at having fallen asleep during the movie. Especially in Sero’s room after having come to his room for a favor. How could you ask to hang out with someone then fall asleep on them!”

“Oh… Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” you laughed a little uneasy, but Sero was quick to reassure you. “Don’t worry about it! You said yourself that you were stressed out of your mind, and it seemed that you needed to give yourself some rest. No need to apologize,” Sero soothed you easily, a smile returning to your face as you nodded. He almost felt bad lying to your face, but this was just more proof that you needed him! He had placed all your clothes back on properly, cleaned up the mess last night and you were none the wiser! Your lack of realization of what had happened, though it pleased Sero to know he got away with his little love session, cemented your need for him in Sero’s mind.  

“Well will you let me buy you coffee as a thanks for letting me crash? We can study together at that cafe near the gym if you want? ” You offered, wanting to express your gratitude to your friend, who graciously accepted your idea, pleased to spend more time with you.

“Now that sounds like a good idea,” he chirped, quick to pack up his things in his backpack and get ready to go.

The sun was rising slowly from the horizon, fluffy white clouds moving lazily across the sky, as the two of you walked to the cafe together. The birds sang so sweetly as the pair of you made your way, but their songs meant nothing to Sero, too entranced with your own sweet voice as you chattered happily with him about whatever came to mind.

Opening the door for you once the pair of you arrived, you flashed him a sweet smile in response before stepping inside the warm coffee shop. The smile you gave, to him, was brighter than the sun, warmer than the core of the Earth, and he realized he needed it. Just like you need his protection, he needs you, his sunshine, to bring warmth into his life and make him whole. With your back to him, browsing the menu of its many drink options, you failed to notice the pair of eyes drinking in every inch of your form with intense infatuation. You had no idea the danger that lurked behind those kind eyes, and unfortunately for you, you didn’t notice that Sero’s friendliness was more until too late.  

[harryhandstan]

washed away in you

I don’t have much to say except I appreciate your patience with me as I worked on this piece! I apologize again for all the confusion with posting and deleting and now reposting. This is the third part to my Dad!Harry series. Once again you don’t have to read those to understand this one, but I’ve linked them below in case you would like to revisit them. :)

Thank you to @taintedwonder for reading over part of this for me!

word count: 4.2k

needles tw // (small mention towards the end)

I Want Your Belly (part one) | Wonderful and Warm (part two) | writing tag | masterlist

y’all have already been so good to me but as always likes, rbs, and comments are welcome!!

//

Of all the weeks to be put on bed rest, it had to be the week that Harry started filming for his new movie role.

Technically you were on modified bed rest, which meant resting as much as possible but still moving around as necessary, but the phrase terrified Harry enough that he was doing whatever he could to keep you still. It hadn’t been an easy task, you were in your 8th month of pregnancy, quickly approaching your due date, and there still seemed to be a mountain of important things to get done before your son’s arrival.

It had only been two days since you’d started having what you thought were contractions. It had forced you and Harry to realize just how unprepared the two of you were when you had to rush out of the house at 2 a.m. with nothing packed for what could possibly be the night of your child’s appearance into the world. Just the two of you with disheveled hair and rumpled pajamas under the harsh lighting of the ER exam room. 8 hours of tests and scans and a visit from your doctor later, you returned home to fall back in bed and catch up on the sleep you had missed.

“Listen you’re both new to all this..I get it. But you’re putting too much stress on your body and that’s what caused this tonight. I know it’s hard but, take a week, relax, bed rest as much as possible. I’ll see you in my office again in a few days just to make sure everything is progressing along like we want. If there’s still too much stress on the baby, we may have to push your due date up a little earlier. But we don’t want to do that if we can avoid it.”

Currently you were in the nursery, where most of the last minute things to do remained. You were standing at the changing table, folding a set of onesies to be put away. Harry had been urging you for the past 10 minutes to sit down.

“Harry, I have been in bed all night, or as much of it as your son allowed me to be without kicking me in the ribs or pressing on my bladder. I just wanna get these folded and put away and I’ll be done.”

“Well you can at least sit while y’doing them. Or, let me finish ‘em.” His hands fall on your shoulders, gently guiding you towards the rocking chair in the corner. You gesture for him to bring the basket closer, “And why is he only my son when he’s causing you trouble?”

“Maybe cause it was your birthday treat that got us into this mess. Or because he already likes to tease us so much. Besides, you can’t do them, I have a system.”

“Yeah, a birthday treat planned by you. And I know the system, you showed me two days ago.”

“You knew the system, we changed it.”

“We? I’ve barely been home how’ve we..”

“I may have called your Mum again.” You shrug, propping your feet up on the small ottoman positioned in front of the chair, “She and I agreed it’s better this way.”

“You didn’t think it was important to notify me of this system you and y’new bestie have thought up?” He’s turned to lean his back against the changing table, arms folded across his chest. As much as he wants to be upset, he’s over the moon that you and Anne have become so much closer over the past few months. Between his mom and yours, plus your sister and his, he was thrilled to see you had so much support for days when he couldn’t be there. Anne had offered to fly out to spend the week with you, as did your mom, but you put them both off, promising you would need them more the few weeks after the birth.

“Been a little busy growing a human here, Harry. May have slipped my mind. I would’ve gotten around to it eventually.”

“Right, you can just tell me where everything goes then.” He’s already worked his way through folding the last of the pile, smiling proudly at you as you lean your head back and close your eyes, sinking further into the chair.

“Socks in the second drawer to the left, hats in the middle. If the onesies are newborn sized, they go to the right. Anything bigger than that gets tucked in the baskets by size there in the middle shelf of the closet, if you can find room.”

Between the two of your families and your group of mutual friends, you’d been given 4 baby showers over the past few months, combining with the items you and Harry had supplied for yourselves. People had been more than generous in helping stock the nursery for your little one.

“All done. How ‘bout some breakfast now?”

“You don’t have time. You have to be on set in less than an hour. I’ll make myself something in a bit. I may go back to sleep for a while, just got up to see you off and wanted to put those things away.”

“Always have time for you, angel,” He offers his hand to help you lift yourself up, “Maybe a smoothie?”

“Alright, if I let you make me a smoothie, will you take yours to go? Don’t want you to be late because of me.”

“Deal. But only if you let me tuck you back into bed before I go.”

“Deal.” You lean up slightly to accept the sweet kiss he offers before shuffling off to the kitchen together.

//

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve decided. You’re not allowed to look.”

You knew he wasn’t listening, trying to maybe, but not really. He sits across the room at the desk in the corner of your bedroom, glasses perched on the end of his nose, guitar in his lap, journal open in front of him. He’s in writing mode, something that usually takes you at least 30 minutes to coax him from and convince him to come to bed. Not that you ever wanted to interrupt his process, but tonight you’re feeling anxious about your impending delivery, dread slowing working its way through your body. 

It had been only a few days since your follow up appointment with your doctor. She had deemed you fit to come off bed rest, but urged you to continue to try to keep your stress level to a minimum as much as possible. Easier said than done, but you were finding small ways to relax yourself when you could; meditation, music, reading. But tonight you just wanted Harry for reassurance.

In your nightly scroll through one of your recent favorite mom-to-be blogs, you had come across an article on the difficulty of delivery. You appreciated moms who were brave enough to share their stories online and this person in particular had included a video. Despite your anxiety, you clicked to watch, curiosity overriding any fear rising in your chest. 

When he finally puts away the guitar and the journal and sheds his soft purple robe to swim up the bed to settle next to you, he asks, “Were y’sayin’ something earlier, m’love? Got lost there for a bit, m’sorry.”

His writing sessions were normally done in his office or the studio, but the past few weeks he’d preferred to do them here. Liked the idea of you trying to softly hum along to a new tune he was working through, occasionally offering your opinions about what you liked or didn’t. It was rare that you disliked anything, but he liked that you didn’t shy away from being honest with him. His favorite though? The sight of you, an open book, hand always resting on the side of your belly while you read. It was just as much a comfort for him to be near you these days as it was for you.

“Yeah. I’ve decided. You’re not allowed to look when I deliver this baby.”

His head rests on your thigh, only the side of his face visible as he looks up at you, but it’s enough to see the disappointment flash before he composes himself, not wanting to upset you.

“Alright. What d’you mean by that? Like..you don’t want me in the room or..”

“No, no, I want you in the room, that was never a question. You’re just not allowed to look when I’m pushing. I watched a video and I’m traumatized and I just..”

He sits up quickly, “You watched a birthing video? Without me?”

“Yeah, earlier when you were zoned out. You’ve never seen one?”

“Never been curious enough to watch one ‘til now. Not ‘til I thought of you having our babe. Show me the one you watched?”

You’re hesitant. Truly you’re touched he’s so curious and wants to share this experience with you, but right now the thought of him seeing your body change like that is scary. He senses your unease, almost reads your mind; he knows you so well.

“Babe, s’your body. If you really don’t want me t’look, then I won’t. Just..at least show me what you watched so I can see for myself what it’s like, what you’ll go through. S’all m’askin’ for now.”

“Okay, fine,” You pat the bed next to you and he scurries up to sit, his head on your shoulder while you navigate through your browser history to find the video. You start it, but your eyes stay focused on his face.

“Y’not gonna watch it again with me?”

“No,” You drape your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer so you can rest your head on top of his, “I’d rather watch your reactions this time around.”

You’re curious to see how he reacts to certain parts; his little gasps and winces as the video progresses. When it ends, you’re not surprised to see tears have fallen down his face and made a small wet spot on the front of his t-shirt.

“Harry, you’re not upset with me, are you?”

“‘Course not, meant what I said earlier. If you really don’t want me t’look, then I won’t..but I don’t want you to think I’ll look at you any differently after. You’re givin’ me one of the greatest gifts anyone ever has, if anything I love you more than I ever thought I could. And that’s only gonna grow once our boy’s here.”

You run your hands through his hair, not sure what to say. You’ve never had a love this big, one that envelops you so fully. The past few months have shown you just how deeply he cares for you, and just how much your own heart could stretch to fill with your overwhelming love for Harry and now the baby growing inside you.      

He doesn’t take offense to your silence, just stills your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips. He slumps further down the bed, head level with your stomach. He pokes it softly through your shirt. He doesn’t even have to ask anymore, you know what he wants and you’re glad to give in to him. You scoot down to rest your head on your pillow, pulling your shirt up and tucking the fabric under your breasts.

Instantly his head rests on your tummy, a hand reaching around to lay there on the other side of it, wrapping himself around you. You reach over and turn the lamp on your bedside table off, sleep drifting it’s way through your body and mind. You let one hand fall to his back, the other one joining his arm to wrap protectively around your belly.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” 

“You can look. If you want.”

“Y’don’t have to decide tonight. We still have a little time to plan.”

“No. I don’t want to take any of this experience from you. The whole thing’s just a bit scary though.”

“I know it is, m’terrified too. But everything’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna be there for every second of it.” 

“I know you are. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane through all this. You’ve been so good to me, H. Putting up with all my mood swings and late night cravings and whatever I needed.” 

“I haven’t had to ‘put up’ with anything. Just want to make you and bub as happy as y’both already make me.” He turns to kiss the side of your stomach before looking up at you, “Comfy? Am I squishin’ you?”

“No, it’s nice. Don’t see how you can be comfy though.” 

“I’ll move to my pillow in a bit. Just like being close to you and bub,” He yawns, “Goodnight, babe. Love you both so much.”

“We love you too, Harry. More than you’ll ever know.”

//  

Sleep had been pretty much non-existent in your third trimester. You were lucky if you got a few hours each night and cat naps throughout the day were rare. 

Tonight is no different. It’s 3 a.m and once you get up for your fifth trip to the bathroom, you know there’s no point in trying to get comfortable again. Harry will be up soon, and as much as he tries to stay quiet during his morning routine, he always found some way to unintentionally wake you. You couldn’t even sleep through his soft kisses to your forehead to say goodbye anymore.

Normally you take yourself down to the living room to find a mindless tv show or movie to carry you through your insomnia, but Harry also seemed to be infected with your curse of being a light sleeper these days. Most nights he would attempt to join you, sweet enough to not want you to be alone, stubborn enough to not listen each time you urged him to go back to bed. He always paid for it the day after though, dark circles under his eyes and nodding off to sleep throughout whatever he had scheduled. 

So in hopes that you wouldn’t wake him by leaving tonight, you reach for the remote to the bedroom tv, muting it so the noise won’t disturb him. You would almost be content enough to stare at him for the rest of the night. The sharp outline of his jaw, freckles scattered across his face that would rival the constellations in the sky, all softened by the moonlight illuminating his face perfectly. As much as you don’t want to wake him, you can’t help but reach out to run the back of your hand over the smooth skin of the man you admire so much. You adore the way even in his sleep he molds to your touch, soft snores and deep, even breaths never stopping as you move up to brush his curls away from his face. 

You almost make it through 20 minutes of a movie before his eyes flutter open. You know how much your false contractions from before weighed on him, alarm is quick to flood his face before he has a chance to take in his surroundings. 

You answer before he has a chance to let worry take over, “It’s alright. We’re okay. Just the usual..couldn’t sleep.”

He rubs his eyes to clear them, “What time s’it?”

“4:30.”

He squints slightly at the movie playing before chuckling, “How many times y’think you’ve watched this one? Know it’s been at least a dozen or so in the last month.”

“It’s my favorite. One of them, anyway. It’s always been soothing to me.”

“Bet you could quote the whole thing by now, even with it muted.”

You glance up at the tv and it only takes a second for you to pinpoint the exact part. You take his comment as a challenge, pushing yourself up out of your nest of pillows to rest your back against the headboard before quoting, “Faith is a bluebird you see from afar. It’s for real, and as sure as the first evening star. You can’t touch it, or buy it, or wrap it up tight. But it’s there just the same, making things turn out right.”

Your voice breaks as you say the last few words. Maybe it’s the combination of exhaustion and all the new fears and hormones running through your mind and body. Nostalgia of watching this when you were younger and now sharing it with your child when they are old enough touches your heart and you can’t stop the tears continuously streaming down your face.

“Baby,” He pushes himself up to rest next to you, tugging you until you're pressed close to his side, “Please don’t cry.”

“M’miserable, Harry. I’m as big as the moon and I can’t breathe and my feet always hurt and I’m just..ready for him to be here. Ready for him to be out so I can hold him and kiss him and put him in his own bed so I can rest in mine again.” 

You know you sound childish and whiny and somewhat ridiculous, but being so sleep deprived means all sense has left and so the words come spilling out, a jumbled mess you doubt he even understood.

“I know you are, love. Hate to see you so upset,” He kisses the top of your head, “Certainly as bright as the moon, but not as big. Your body’s as exactly as it should be. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but that’s only cause you’re tired. He’ll be here soon and we’ll have so many people here to help, yeah?”

All you can do is nod, you know he’s right and you know once you have a nap things won’t feel so overwhelming. You pull yourself away from him to wipe your face on your t-shirt. A smile stretches across your lips as the thought enters your mind, “If I’m as bright as the moon, you’re as golden as the sun.”

“Yeah?” He’s blushing now, looking down at his hands before his eyes dart up to meet yours, “Guess that makes bub our little star, huh?”

You giggle before shrugging, “Guess so.”

“By the way,” His hand rests on your thigh, “We gonna keep calling him bub or we gonna pick a name?” 

“Bub’s cute. Bub Styles.” You wrinkle your nose at the thought, “I just want it to be perfect for him, you know? I feel like I need to see his face before I just blindly pick a name. We could definitely narrow down some options though and see which one suits him best.”

“We’ll think of something special, eh? Somethin’ just f’him.”

“Yeah, we will,” You suck in a sharp intake of breath at a particularly hard kick from within your stomach. Harry’s head snaps to look over your face before looking down to where your hand lays on your belly.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are wide, on edge as he waits for your answer.

“It’s fine he’s just..ah, being a little rowdy this morning.” You take his hand from your thigh and press it to where the kicks were landing, “Right here. Think that’s his butt, his head’s down here, and..ah, his feet are right about here. Can you feel him?”

His palm lays flat across the front of your belly, “S’amazing, never gets old. Bet it feels so..weird to you though.”

“At first, yeah, but got used to it pretty quickly. It’s comforting now, like he’s saying hello or contributing to our conversations when we talk.”

He puts his mouth almost right against your tummy, so close his breath tickles and you feel the vibrations when he speaks, “Take it easy on mumma, little one. Just a bit longer, yeah? Can’t wait to see ya face. Bet y’so handsome like daddy, just gotta be a lil’ more patient like mummy, alright?” 

“Think maybe he’s ready for his pre-breakfast snack?”

“Dunno..I’ll ask him though,” He bends again, “That why y’bein’ such a brat to mum, huh? Woke her up early cause you were hungry? Alright, daddy’ll make your usual.”

He kisses your stomach, before straightening to where he’s level with your face, “That sound good?”

Your “usual” was a bowl of what had been your biggest craving throughout your pregnancy; fruit. On nights like this when sleeplessness couldn’t be defeated, the two of you normally gave in pretty quickly and had breakfast together. On days when you were able to sleep through Harry’s departure, you would always wake to the bowl already prepared and ready for you. Oftentimes there would be a quickly scribbled note with the words “Love, H” stuck to the top or the side of the bowl, like you didn’t already know who had left it for you.

“You’re spoiling him already, Harry.”

He smacks a quick kiss to your cheek, pulling back just a second before diving back in to peck another one on your other cheek, “Tryin’ to spoil you too, angel.”

//

Contractions, real ones you were sure this time, had started 30 minutes ago. As much as Harry wanted to rush you out of the house in your pajamas, you had insisted on at least 5 minutes to change and pull your hair into a quick ponytail before gathering your bag and dashing down the stairs.

Just as Harry’s hand lands on the doorknob, you tug on the sleeve of his jacket, “Harry, stop for a second.”

“Why? Are you having one now?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“This is one of our last moments before we become parents. I want you to slow down, take a deep breath, and kiss me.”

“You’re impossible, you know that? Active labor and you stop me for a kiss.” He rolls his eyes but you can see his shoulders drop, relaxing just enough to press his lips firmly against yours. You reach your hand up and around to the back of his neck, deepening it for a moment before drawing back to scan his face.

“Better?” Your hand continues to work through his hair, happy to watch his face relax slightly at your touch.

“Much. How are you so calm?”

“I don’t know, really. I thought I would be scared, and I am but..I’m ready. So ready to meet him.”

“Me too. Let’s go.” His hand falls to the small of you back, leading you out the door and to the car.

Once you arrive at the hospital, he doesn’t leave your side, not even when the nurse suggests he do so while you get your epidural. She agrees to let him stay, but makes him sit in a chair in front of you and sternly tells him not to look.

He holds both of your hands, squeezing them tightly as an attempt to distract you. He knows how much you hate needles, how the thought of this procedure alone had scared you almost as much as the idea of labor. You release a deep sigh of relief when they announce it’s done, and he helps you settle back into bed, tucking the blanket around you.

“So proud of you, baby. You’re already doing amazing.” 

Things progress much faster than you ever thought they would, and it’s only three hours before you’re ready to push. Harry’s there for every second of it, hand behind your back and small encouragements in your ear when you think you can’t go any further. 

“M’tired, H.” The room is full of people, your doctor and a set of nurses, but his focus stays on you; simply existing together in that moment. Small pieces of hair have come loose from your ponytail, clinging to the sweat now covering your forehead. He sweeps them away before resting his hand on your shoulder.

“I know y’are, lovie, but you’re so so close. Doin’ so incredible,” His smile is so wide, beaming at you when he leans closer, “Y’look gorgeous too, never seen you look more stunning than now.”

That has a laugh bursting from you, still breathless when you reply,  “You’re such a bad liar.”

“M’serious! Know better than to lie to you.” He winks just before working his arm around behind your back again, giving you the motivation you needed to keep going.

It’s not long before you hear what you’re certain is one of the best sounds you’ll ever hear, the sweet sound of your baby boy’s cry as he enters the world.

//

An hour later, both of you are still in awe of your little one, sleeping peaceful now in their dad’s strong arms. Harry’s wedged himself next to you in the hospital bed, long legs stretched in front of him. He keeps looking between where your head is propped on his shoulder and the baby.

He breaks the silence first, “Definitely think he has your hair. S’nice and soft.”

“Think it’ll be darker like yours though. Maybe he’ll have your eyes.” You reach over to run your finger along your baby’s nose.

He looks between you and the baby again, a prideful smile brightening his face. He smushes his lips against your temple, and you close your eyes as the feeling of adoration combined with the  exhaustion of the day washes over you. 

You hear him whisper just as you’re drifting to sleep, “My moon and star, together at last.”

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a Punk S/O

T/W- q*eer is used a few times- in a positive, self affirming kind of way. But I can add other trigger warnings if needed. :)

A/n- Literally no one asked for this, but I wanted to make more HCs like the soft pastel one...so I just went wild and made them. 

I included a little bit of punk culture into this as well, because it’s not just about the fashion, but since there’s such a vast variety within punk culture I mostly stuck with my experiences in the community, and some bits and pieces from documentaries(mostly live footage from “The Decline of Western Civilization”).

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Norman Bates, Michael Myers

Will make one(s) for Brahms, Amanda, Helen or Daniel if asked

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

so early 90s, the Riot Grrrl movement emerges

bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Heavens to Betsy or Sleater-Kinney

it’s a very female-powered oriented movement, but I notice that a lot of minorities tend to be drawn to this music and community (LGBT folks, people of color, etc).

both boys, and yourself, being outside of the norm and all (polyamorous relationship, gay/bi) are sort of drawn to it!

and sure there’s a lot of really great queercore/homocore bands, and there’s probably a good LGBT+ punk scene out there somewhere, but in a little town like Woodsboro? Hell no. Sticking with this fem punk movement, while again mostly a space for women in music- it’s the most accepted the three of you have felt outside of you’re relationship. 

you’ve always been pretty into the music, stuff like Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, or the short-lived Germs- but it wasn’t until you stumbled upon Riot Grrrl that you really got into it. 

the music, making zines about local-ish political issues(probably not so much Woodsboro stuff, more Cali in general and neighboring towns) and a few ones with queer themes and hand-drawn illustrations of your partners, and DIYing all your clothes

since you’re so experienced with DIYing your clothes and sewing on patches, you’ve helped repair the Ghostface costumes on numerous occasions. they kind of adore this(Stu is the only one that will- and does, frequently- admit that)

Let’s face it, the three of you do everything together- but you especially enjoy when Stu tags along for thrift dates. 

he’s the more fashionable one, and he makes the whole experience more enjoyable- cracking jokes and just being his all-around goofy self.

Woodsboro is a very little town, so they don’t have much...but they do have a few small stores- usually you’ll make a whole day/date out of it though. driving to the next town or so over, since they have more stores and a better selection, and spending hours looking for cheap, old t-shirts, belts, clothes with funky patterns. heading out for pizza after.

Billy’s more likely to get into the music and everything with you(he’s kinda,, angsty, no offense to him)- will definitely go to shows with you.

just- imagine Billy in ripped jeans. and he’d have like one or two patches sewn on to it- one of them is your all time favorite band, and the other is a band that he found on his own time, and actually really enjoyed.

Stu is dragged along with you guys, you can’t just leave him at home- he’s gonna feel left out and sad. :(

He’s mostly there to keep y’all company- he really likes the energy of the shows though!

the two of them are such a chaotic duo though, so much so that you have definitely been kicked out or banned from a few venues. all for varying reasons. good grief these men can not be tamed.

The Lost Boys

as we all know, these vampires are total punks. so they’re gonna appreciate having a s/o who’s also into that whole scene.

How you meet:

you’re a baby punk, and it’s your first show ever, and you look so nervous. you’re dressed up in pretty plain clothes, a single homemade patch for your favorite band barely hanging to your jacket side(you were mid-way sewing it, when you realized you were gonna be late if you didn’t leave asap).

it’s a few local bands, ones you’d never really heard of really. you look anxious. but when they start playing? you look so unapologetically yourself, you’re so in the moment dancing- it’s completely mesmerizing to the boys. the music isn’t even that good, but you seem to be having the time of your life.

they greet you after the show, and you’re a tiny bit flustered- cause gosh, heck, they saw you. dancing. so embarrassing. 

David is the one that introduces himself and the group, and initiates conversation. Dwayne’s a pretty quiet guy, so he just listens to what you have to say. 

Marko’s pretty excited about you, and initiates in some small conversation, he may have complimented your little patch(Marko- patch jacket KING, complimenting your jacket?? more likely than you’d think) 

and oh, oh- Paul is out there being a total chatty-cathy, and is absolutely bombarding you with questions. like, okay, Paul is pretty talkative, but the other vamps are a little worried that he’s scared you off. and you had seemed so cool :(

you end up pretty engaged in your convo with Paul though, even if all the attention is overwhelming. He ends up snagging a date for the five of you the following week.

once you start hanging out/dating:

y’all just hit it off so well those first few days. they all love how sweet & shy you are- but also how much of a badass punk babe you are.

Marko helps make your patch jacket(collecting ones for bands you enjoy, how to make your own, sewing them on, etc). you probably could have done it w/out his help, but my gosh- you weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Marko gets really soft around you sometimes, since he doesn’t really do this activity with anyone else, it’s saved for you. 🥺🥺

Dwayne likes listening to you talking about the local scene(outside of the shows you go to- mostly about stuff he can’t attend, protests and meetings during the daylight.)

all of them(especially David) are very protective of you. I mean, generally. but also when you go to shows. they let you do whatever the heck you’re gonna do, but the mere second that someone even thinks about starting shit w/ you?? well, y’know. those vampire instincts kick in.

the four of them obviously share a lot of similar tastes in music- but they all have different favorite bands, & fave parts of the community. which, they can’t even fully participate in,, but it’s okay.

they, individually, introduce their favorite bands to you. and they get it in their head that oh, they said they liked it. they must like it as much as I do. and awkwardly coming out to the four of them, as they argue about your favorite band, “Well, actually- this *insert band they’ve never heard of or barely listen to* is my favorite.” and their just kinda like, oh, okay. please tell us more about them. 

so it’s sorta like,, you’ve been learning all this cool knowledge from them, now you get to share cool knowledge with them.

idk. I think it’s cute. 💕

Norman Bates

so first off- let’s just pretend Psycho was in at least the 70s/80s for a moment. because realistically- the punk subculture didn’t really exist back then.

baby boy is absolutely fascinated by the way you dress (mother is less thrilled though)

imagine your jacket is getting a bit weathered, and needs some repairs- so he helps you to sew edges closed, and make sure the patches aren’t on too loose, etc

he enjoys hearing your stories of all the past shows you’ve gone to. you always get so excited about them, and he finds that so endearing. But he pretty much leaves the actual punk scene to you because of these stories.

he was already worried from the stories, and made sure you were well prepared for any trouble every time you left for a show.

but one time, you were able to get him to join you. never again though. he was so nervous!

the music was too loud! and he could hardly understand what they were saying- it was so confusing!

you stayed with him most of the night, standing near the back, holding his hand. he’d gently bob his head to the music occasionally. 

but you accidentally found yourself swept into the crowd, but you looked so blissed-out in the moment, that he figured it would be okay for you to dance* over there for a little bit...right?  

*Norman is still unsure if you’d even call that dancing.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened in the mosh pit.

you gotta give him lots of attention and reassurance afterwards though- you almost scared Norman half to death D:

He’s happy enough helping you out and listening to you though- and that’s okay for you, too. you still love each other lots, even if this particular interest doesn’t overlap.

Michael Myers

he thinks you’re outfits are pretty interesting. 

he’s a little worried at first, when you start experimenting with putting things like safety pins in your ears. cause like- that’s not supposed to be in your ear, Y/n, what the fuck

if you make zines at all, Michael really enjoys watching you make the illustrations for them(not that he’ll admit to it though), and helps to find newspaper and magazine clippings to incorporate into the spreads.

you always show michael the final booklet before distributing it

he doesn’t talk a lot, so he doesn’t ask questions- but he often does the little head tilt once you give it to him. since he’s not very privy to current events, and a lot of your zines are political, you spend a lot of time explaining them in depth.

he has no use for any of this knowledge, but he listens on, intently.

Important note:

dear god do not bring this man to concerts and local shows with you.

it is a nightmare, to say the least

Michael is sort of,, emotionless sometimes, doesn’t really care for people at all, and if he does? definitely not in the same way most people do. 

so imagine combining that part of michael, the fact that he’s also a giant stabby man, with super loud, energetic- almost aggressive- sounding music and a bunch of strangers that aren’t respecting any personal boundaries. 

you need to keep him at the back of the venue- lest your local scene may go missing.

[lollytea]

Hi! I love you Shageera fic! The fandom is so small and your fic is so good, I can't thank you enough! And I wanted to ask you, do you have any headcanon about their relationship outside of Talespin? In the original Jungle Book "canon" or some other AU? I'd love to hear them if you do have them, your takes are gold!

Hi! Thank you so much!!

Hmmm. All the versions of shagheera in my head follows the same basic story structure of “friends as kids, grow apart as they get older, reconnect as adults” EXCEPT for the jungle book/canon universe, where the first two DO apply to them (thank you jungle cubs for making that canon, idk where I’d be without jungle cubs canon.) but they continue to keep their distance from each other once they’re grown. I mean Khan tried to kill Bagheera’s kid AND his bear husband. I don’t think they ever can bounce back from that one. They got bad blood and they probably always will.

Unless….just kidding…..unless….

I think about the plot of this cancelled third jungle book movie very often. Yeah it would’ve been bad but….but….but adult Khan and Bagheera might have interacted. Also I wanna know how the fuck a shere khan redemption arc is written. Not very well probably but I still wanna see it. I think Disney should send me the script to this film. As a gift. I think I deserve it. It’s not like they want it. Hand it over, lads.

ANYWAY

Besides the talespin universe, I’ve got like two shagheera AUs

Treasure Planet AU — Bagheera is a scholar and astronomer who comes aboard Captain Shere Khan’s ship. The two know recognize each other as the childhood friend they used to play pirates with. So, rather ironic circumstances they’ve found themselves in. Neither know how to react to reuniting so they’re pretty awkward about it and refuse to acknowledge that they were ever close. They mostly interact with the distant politeness of people who barely know each other and strictly refer to the other Captain/Doctor (unless circumstances are dire) But they’re gonna be stuck on this ship together for the next few weeks so they better figure out what the fuck their relationship is.

Bagheera is deeply out of his element. He’s intimidated by the crew and he doesn’t know how to handle a weapon so he considers himself rather useless on this expedition. He’s never even held a pistol before and now he’s expected to know how to shoot one. He’s so frazzled that he nearly (accidentally) shoots Khan dead at one point. But he wouldn’t be Bagheera if he wasn’t stubbornly insisting that he knows what he’s doing, especially when the captain shoots some sardonic comment his way. The two get into more squabbles than he cane keep track of.

Shere Khan is exasperated with the doctor, with the boy he brought aboard, with the entire idiot crew he hired, but especially with the doctor. He attempts to keep himself composed but he keeps stooping to the most childish arguments and he feels like the presence of Bagheera is forcibly dragging him back 25 years every time they interact. Shere Khan does not know how to feel about that.

Shere Khan finds himself having to acknowledge that Bagheera is brilliant. Due to the doctor’s calculations, the ship avoided the waves of impact during a difficult path through a black hole and he’s the reason they got out alive. He never felt all that much admiration for the little brainiac when they were children but now he is absolutely blowing him away.

Bagheera starts spending more time in Shere Khan’s office because it’s the only place he feels comfortable. (The crew really creeps him out.) and they do everything from argue to discuss alternate routes to pour over the map. This evolves to Shere Khan teaching Bagheera what he knows about wielding a sword and they have many homoerotic sparring sessions. Sometimes they’ll lay out in the escape boats and Bagheera will teach Khan the names of all his favourite constellations. They have many homoerotic star gazing sessions. BASICALLY they have a gay space pirate love story but it’s behind the scenes stuff cuz Kit is the protagonist of this au and he doesn’t give a fuck what Shere Khan and Bagheera are doing.

They are forced to acknowledge that they care about each other when the stakes get more dangerous and both have their near death experiences, rattling the other considerably. At the very least they start calling each other by their first names again ❤️

Fairytale/ Dragon Princess AU — OKAY i don’t think I’ve ever publicly posted about this au so I won’t unpack all of it cuz I know y’all aren’t familiar with it. It’s mostly focused on Baloo/Rebecca and the bear family as a whole but Shagheera is involved too so I’ll focus on that part for now.

So basically Shere Khan was a kid prince and Bagheera was the son of a servant so, as the only two children in the castle, they’ve been playmates since before they could walk.

The only other children they interacted with were Bagheera’s friends (Baloo, Louie etc.) and Shere Khan’s wife-to-be, Princess Rebecca. Their parents arranged the engagement and neither Khan or Rebecca were thrilled about it. As they grow older, Bagheera leaves the palace to make his own way and he and Khan don’t keep in touch.

By the time they were young adults, mysterious circumstances paused Shere Khan and Rebecca’s upcoming marriage when word spread around that the princess had been horribly cursed and locked away in a tower. Details were sparse, even to her fiancé. All that was known was that she had last been seen talking with a man who had a reputation for being a dark mage and it can be deduced that he was the one behind the curse.

But before she disappeared, Rebecca sent Khan a letter begging him to please not retrieve her from the tower, warning him that whoever ventured out to save her would not make it back alive. Khan obliged of course, both because he respected her wishes and if she returned, he would have to marry her.

As a king, Shere Khan had excellent publicity. He was charming and charismatic in public, masking the fact that he was an absolute bitch in private. He was also obliged to act like he cared about his fiancée being returned to his side so every now and then he allowed whatever arrogant glory seeking fool who offered, to go “save” her. None of them lived.

Years later, Khan drops into an ancient, desolate library on the outskirts of town, hoping to find a particular book on plants. It’s after midnight, so he doesn’t have to deal with the scandal of the king being out and about. And who does he find between the shelves, bathed in the dim glow of oil lamps, but Bagheera, snoring on the floor in a pile of open books.

This begins a tentative acquaintanceship in which Khan escapes to the library every now and again for a change of scenery and to meet with Bagheera, who lives on the floor above.

It doesn’t take long for Shere Khan to learn Bagheera’s reputation. As it turns out, the passionate yet introverted scholar with books on the brain, is allegedly the “dark mage” that put a curse on Rebecca all those years ago. This would explain why his library is always empty. Everyone in town is petrified of him.

Rather than turn to anger or fear, Shere Khan can only feel disbelief and intrigue because whatever rumors are going around are clearly fabricated. He challenges Bagheera to perform some evil little spell for him, summon hellbeasts if he must. But Bagheera falters and it is revealed that underneath that reputation is a bit of a sham. Bagheera has been trying for years to become an adept mage but he just can’t get the hang of it. His spell-work is terrible. Always has been.

“Well surely you can’t have cursed the princess then?” Shere Khan reasons. But that’s not exactly true. Yes, Bagheera was not behind the original curse but when Rebecca came to him for help, he accidentally made it so so much worse. Bagheera is the reason shes been forced to hide herself away in a tower and he’s been spending all these years attempting to improve his magic so he can finally undo what he’s done.

And so Fairytale/Dragon Princess AU is a fantasy love story where Shere Khan attempts to help Bagheera effectively channel his magic. The fun part about it is magic is intricately tied to a persons emotional state so when you’re having homoerotic little scenes with your childhood buddy and he touches your forearm, you nearly set the whole goddamn library ablaze. Real gay shit.

I have run out of steam and cannot ramble anymore. Hope I have pleased you.

[dracosaurusrex]

Palace

Summary: In which you discover a new love in the midst of your heartbreak.

Prompt:  “with you, I thought I knew love. but maybe I still don’t” A/N: Hi y’all! So this is my take on the @minty-malfoy ‘s 300 writing challenge :) (Congratulations my friend! You’re amazing!) I have to admit, writing angst is not my strong suit, and I had to do some research to grasp what it was. Within my findings, something that caught my attention in particular was the fact that angst is defined as going through the character’s emotional workings, topped with a newfound sense of strength. There might be some holes present, but overall this piece is molded on that understanding, and I hope it reaches out to you in whatever way that resonates the most.

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Throughout her years at Hogwarts, Y/N had been able to pick up a number of skills. She may not have been as good at studying as Hermione Granger, or as athletic as Ginny Weasely, or even as creative as Luna Lovegood--no. You were an average girl who didn’t have much to show for except your ability to hide behind a thick mask.

You were typically known for your kindness, which was complimented by a pair of sparkling e/c eyes, a warm smile, and a nurturing personality. Additionally, you were graced with a good sense of humor and an infectious laugh. To all of your friends, you were the embodiment of the sun; a girl whose being was commonly associated with terms such as, “beautiful”, “genuine”, and “loving”. A girl who never seemed to show any indication of internal conflict, who had everything under control.

These perceptions always came in handy, for they molded into the shape of a mask when times became rough for you. Because of this, you were capable of fooling everyone into thinking that you were okay.

You felt your consciousness resurfacing from sleep as the morning lulled your body awake. Your eyes fluttered open to the ceiling with your fingers interlaced over your chest. Meanwhile, rays of early light infiltrated random crevices of the dorm, and birds were singing rather loudly outside of your window. Allowing yourself to lay in the stillness, you treasured the moment, took deep breaths, and basked in what felt like peace.

Your surroundings were blissful--and you were grateful--but waking up now equated to reuniting with the recurring tightness that gripped your heart. Memories of a love that had once initiated butterflies had transformed into needles that prickled your chest. A love that once caressed you now felt like a ghostly presence. 

‘Where did it all go wrong?’ You found asking yourself as of late. As you laid in bed, you allowed old scenes of your time with Draco Malfoy to play in your head, recalling the feelings attached to each.

You remembered the rush of adrenaline that you felt the first time you had confessed. You remembered the relief combined with excitement when the feelings were confirmed to be mutual.

You remembered the feeling of your heart skipping when his fingers first slipped into yours, hands intertwined like a glove.

You remembered the temporary sense of confidence that overcame when you initiated the first kiss and the shock that appeared on both your faces after realizing what you did. 

The first “I love you”.

You remembered your first time with him--the sweet whispers, the moans, the laughing, the feeling of pleasure as you came onto one another. You remembered the way his fingers stroked your hair as you laid on top of him with his free arm wrapped around your waist.

You recalled memories of exchanges of comforting words during moments where either one of you felt doubt or unease. 

You remembered the inside jokes you made, the goofy side of him that he only showed to you.

You remembered the plans you both have made, the exhilarating thought of sharing a future with him. The way he gripped your hands and looked into your eyes as he made promises that ended up being broken. 

You remembered the thrill of it all--the palace you had built with him, and how you’ve done so fearlessly until it came crashing down. 

You recalled all the love you had ever given him, all of yourself you had devoted to him, all the dreams, the hopes, the what-could’ve-beens in the moment the words fell out of his lips:

“With you, I thought I knew love. But maybe I still don’t.” Draco uttered in a bare whisper. 

He kept his hands clasped on his lap as he avoided looking at you. You had found yourselves sitting on the edge of his bed with the moonlight illuminating his dorm.

Just a couple weeks ago you were in his arms, sharing kisses without any thought that this would happen--you were on top of the world--but when it did, you felt knots forming over your chest and your stomach. A sob had dared to come up, but you gulped it back down into your throat. Your mind was racing and your eyes were tearing, but you wouldn’t allow your tears to fall. You couldn’t. 

Instead, you grabbed both sides of his face and smiled weakly. 

“Draco, I’ll always love you. I’ll always care for you…” Your lips started to tremble as you looked straight into Draco’s eyes. They were filled with so much guilt.

Breathing in and out slowly, you continued, “I just hope the next girl will be able to make you even happier and take care of you much better than I did.” 

Your lips were pursed into a tight line as you tried to give a convincing smile of reassurance. Your throat started to sting because of the resistance you made towards crying. In doing so, a tear had found a way to roll down your cheek. He grabbed your wrists as you continued to hold his face, his eyes glazed over with regret. His lips trembled as he witnessed your efforts to be strong. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! I never wanted to hurt you at all! I-” You hushed his frantic whispers.

“Don’t worry about me, my love. I promise you everything will be okay.” It was at this point that Draco let out the gasp of despair he held in. He proceeded to reach out to wipe your tears. You closed your eyes and allowed them to fall at this point, leaning into his touch for the very last time. Once you opened them, you did the same and wiped the tears that had stained his porcelain skin. Draco sat there stunned at how much you were holding in.

You whispered, “We’ll be okay. Okay?” He could only nod. You remembered the last time you leaned forward to kiss his lips. To your dismay, he didn’t respond. As you drew yourself away from him, you stood up straight and attempted in giving one of your signature smiles.

“I guess I’ll see you around Malfoy.” 

You recall feeling dead upon arriving at your dorm. Your eyes were puffy, and you thought you finished crying, but as you tucked yourself to bed, the tears you had kept began to fall.

You broke away from the memory as you silently wiped the tears that had formed in your eyes. It has been about a month since your break up. You hadn’t talked to the boy since then. Instead, you made it a priority to reconstruct your life. Your friends would constantly try to comfort you by saying things like, “Go show him what he lost” or “He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N!” You appreciated their efforts, but Merlin knows that it’ll take a while for you to heal. You couldn’t bring it upon yourself to be angry at him. While the moment left a bitter taste in your mouth, you knew deep inside that the love you shared for one another was never a waste of time. 

With a huff, you jolted from your bed, grabbed your uniform, and dragged your legs to the bathroom to get ready for the new school day. The way you handled yourself now was done more carefully than how you used to. Every motion--buttoning your shirt, tucking it into your skirt, tying your tie, and throwing your jumper over your body--was done with more caution. You brushed your hair straight, running your fingers through any tangles, and clamped it into a simple half-do. As you stared into the mirror, you took notice of your appearance. The red tint that lined the edges of your eyes as a result of the tears you shed earlier. You notice the bags that have formed, the slight peeling of your lips. You began to fix your face by applying a light amount of foundation and mascara, followed by a thin layer of tinted chapstick. Slowly, the indications of your sadness dissipated as you put on your makeup. You weren’t really the type to praise yourself, but as you stared at yourself in the mirror once more, you had to admit that you felt a bit pretty. ‘It’s a step forward. Here’s to another day’ You smiled slightly at your reflection, and made your way to the Great Hall.

So far, you managed to show what you considered to be your normal self to your friends whenever they were in your presence. Not wanting them to worry, you did your best to seem energized every time you were joined in their conversations, inserting laughs, and adding on to the fun when needed. You felt obligated to show everyone, including Draco, that you were okay. It’s been like that ever since things ended. The entire student body was aware of the fall. Both you and the boy looked very off the day after it happened. However, slowly but surely, you had reverted back to your sunny self, surprising many of those around you. Only you knew that it was a facade though, and that deep down inside, you still pined for the ghost of your relationship. 

Your thoughts often drifted to him. He was sat in the Slytherin table with his usual group of friends. As you took small glances at him, you wondered what went on in his mind, how he felt about you, and whether or not he misses what you had shared with him. You wondered if he took notice of the energy you conveyed, if he noticed the smile that was plastered on your face now that you weren’t together. Was he convinced with your little charade? 

You broke your gaze from him the moment he turned his focus to your direction. Not wanting to get caught, you chimed into their conversation once more, a convincing smile of enjoyment on your lips.  Once you felt that enough time had passed, you discretely glance at him again, only to have your eyes meet ever so slightly. The time for your classes to start was drawing near. Wanting to be alone in your own thoughts, you left them to walk around.

The hallways you roamed in taunted you as you began to recall, once again, figures of your memories. A warm feeling rose in your chest as you relished the small moments of laughter, playful kisses, and the heart-racing sensation of the back hugs he gave. It was ironic, but reminiscing helped you cope. Perhaps it was the thought of another chance. At the same time, however, you couldn’t deny that it might’ve been the result of the fear of moving on. You sighed, allowing your mind to push away the harshness of the latter. ‘Today will be a good day. I’ll make sure of it.’ With the feeling of encouragement overcoming you once again, you set off to your first class with a new sense of optimism. You weren’t sure about how long the feeling would last, but now that you had it, there was no point in taking it for granted. After all, as long as you were alive, the Earth would still continue to turn, and your commitment to reconstructing your life blazed on. 

The fluctuation between sadness and inspiration was a common occurrence in this point of your life. There were nights that felt completely agonizing, but there were also moments where you felt as though you were slowly falling in love with your life and the potential that it holds. It was then that you felt such enlightenment had brought you raw joy and peace. No masks or facades. No fake smiles. These were found in very minuscule fragments throughout the day. It took the form of the sense of concentration that you had when you studied, the feeling of achievement when you understood a difficult concept. It also embodied the scent of rain when it pours, the cold air that accompanies the sunrise, the sight of bookshelves in the library, the blissful feeling of getting lost in muggle literature. Joy was found in the sounds of the crackling fire, a satisfied belly after a good dinner, as well as the company of friends who have seen you at your worst. You were enchanted by the thought of filling your life with these wholesome moments--to take control and be the artist as you paint such details into your canvas. Sometimes such joy became so overwhelming that the heartache you felt seemed nonexistent.

‘How nice would it be to share it with you, though.’ You thought of him.

And perhaps you would be able to one day; but for now, within the sadness you were beginning to embrace this new love. A love that surpassed the borders of romantic affections.

Draco’s words would ring in your mind whenever you thought of this. You would create scenarios in your head, formulating what you would’ve said to him that night with all the newfound wisdom you had now.

“I thought I knew what love was when I was with you also. However, I can now see the pieces of my true love. How it surrounds me whether you’re by my side or not.” You said to yourself, wrapping yourself in hope as you amount to build your own palace once again.

A/N: I might make a second part to this to show Draco’s view on Y/N’s growth, but we’ll see hehe! I hope that moments of peace and bits of joy make their way to you no matter how hard life may become. You’re all deserving of love <3 Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great day!

[cinnamon-roll-seth]

Not A Player || JJ Maybank

OBX Masterlist

Request: can i get a jj maybank x bookworm!reader who works a bookstore and she's like super smart and thinks jj is just a fuckboy but jj really likes her has since forever and basically jj just trying to prove to the reader he's not what she thinks with maybe some reader being friends with pope fluff and a happy ending

You remembered the day you met JJ Maybank as if it was just yesterday. You were working at your family’s bookstore when two energetic boys stumbled into the small shop. One of them being your childhood best friend, Pope, and one you’d never seen in your life.

You parents were fond of Pope and would allow him to come and borrow books as he pleased as long as he always promised to bring them back, which he always had. That particular day he’d come in to exchange the current book for another. His friend didn’t look too thrilled to be following him down the aisle toward the counter where you stood and you could tell he wasn’t the reading type.

“Hey Y/N. I just came to get a new book,” Pope had greeted you before noticing your questioning look towards the blonde boy in front of him, “This is JJ by the way.”

“Hi!” You smiled towards the kid who’d seemed to just realize you were there. He looked you up and down before leaning on the counter and flashing you his dazzling smirk that made all of the ladies go crazy.

“Hey beautiful. You want to be the Juliet to my Romeo?”

You rolled your eyes, “Do you try that one on all the ladies? Romeo and Juliet both died so no thanks.”

“Do you really have to flirt with every girl you see JJ? I thought you were just talking to that chick from Figure Eight?” Pope asked his friend annoyedly.

JJ shrugged, “She dumped me for some kook kid.”

“Sounds like she made the right call. You know, if you want to be a player so bad you should get into video games, that’s what they were made for.” You say sarcastically.

“I am not a player. And I’ll prove it too.” He bites back. You rolled your eyes again and handed Pope’s new book to him, watching as the two boys walked out of the store.

From that day on JJ came into the bookstore every single day. He was determined to show you he wasn’t just a player. He’d go on and on about all the romantic things he’s done for girls. Sometimes he’d bring in his current lady friend and walk her hand-in-hand down the aisles being all sweet and affectionate. You still weren’t convinced.

It also didn’t help that the two of you had fallen into a routine of sarcastic remarks toward each other.

“Wow Y/N you look like a sexy librarian. You could star in a porno and the guys would go crazy.”

“Wow JJ, how flattering.”

Spending so much time around JJ It didn’t take long for him to fall for you. He loved the way that your eyes sparkled when you talked to children that came into the store, or on slow days when you’d sit on the couch reading and you’d get so into the book in your hands that your nose would twitch every so often, or how you’d go on and on for hours about your favorite books. He loved the way that your hair always smelled like strawberries and cream or the way you always had a piece of mint gum in your mouth or how you’d always respond back to him with snarky remarks.

You also had started to have feelings for the flirtatious blonde boy. Watching him with other girls made you feel just the tiniest bit jealous but you tried to ignore it. Sure JJ was VERY attractive and you couldn’t deny that he was a charmer but you still weren’t quite convinced that he wasn’t a player and you didn’t feel like being used.

JJ hadn’t been into the bookstore for almost two weeks and while part of you was relieved because that made it easier to ignore your feelings the other part of you was a bit upset. Did I do something wrong? Did you decide he doesn’t care if I think he’s a player or not?

You turned the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed’ and reached over to shut off the light switch beside you. You were just pulling your keys out of your purse to lock the shop door when your phone began ringing. Pope’s contact picture displayed across the screen.

You answered the call and put your phone up to your ear, “Hello?”

“Go to the dock by John B’s house.” He replied before hanging up. You stared at your phone in confusion before shaking your head and dropping it back into your purse. It was windy and thundering and no doubt would soon begin to rain, what on earth would he need you to go to the dock for?

Despite the threatening weather you obey his orders, walking the short distance to John B’s after locking up the store. You’d only hung out with John B a handful of times with Pope and you’ve only been to his house maybe three times but regardless you still knew the way there. You were very confused and the tiniest bit worried about what you would find and swore to punch Pope if you were about to walk into a prank.

You were definitely NOT expecting to see JJ standing at the end of the dock waiting for you. A picnic blanket was spread out at his feet and about a dozen or two lit candles were placed around it. His normal casual attire was replaced with a fancier looking ensemble. He looked like a kook, you almost giggled at the sight of it.

“JJ what the hell are you doing?” You ask walking towards him.

“Y/N, I’ve spent the last six months using other girls to prove something that I should’ve been proving to you personally. You’re beautiful and sweet and smart but also sarcastic as hell and I love that. During the time we’ve known each other you’ve become the only person I care about proving myself to and that’s what I want to do. I want to prove to you that I’m more than a player.” He replies, stepping closer to you while your jaw almost drops at his words.

“You did all of this for me?” You ask. He nods.

“I packed this bag with a bunch of your favorite candy and snacks, stuff I picked up from listening to you talk. And Kiara let me borrow her portable DVD player. I brought an extra blanket too. And one of my sweatshirts in case you get cold. I don’t really know much about romantic movies but I saw you reading The Notebook a few weeks ago and we had a copy laying around the house. It was my moms.” (A/N: I know I’ve used The Notebook in two different fics now but I don’t know shit about romantic movies so that’s really the only one I can think of lmao)

“JJ this is the most romantic thing anybody has ever done for me.” You say softly.

“I like you Y/N. I really really like you.” He tells you honestly.

“I really really like you too JJ.”

“So what do you say Y/N Y/L/N? Will you go on this date with me?” He holds his hand and you laugh, grabbing ahold of it.

“Of course I will but I think we should relocate,” You point towards the dark water, illuminated by the dim light on the dock, where you can see little water droplets falling.

“I swear I have been watching the weather for two weeks and it wasn’t supposed to storm tonight,” He groans, leaning down and blowing out the candles before grabbing the picnic blanket and bag.

About two minutes into your walk it begins to pour so the two of you run hand-in-hand to the closest shelter, the bookstore in which you met. JJ pulls out the dry extra blanket and lays it on the floor in the little reading area while you turn on the electric fireplace, illuminating the area while providing heat to your soaked selves. He gets the movie ready while you pull out the snacks and finally the two of you get comfy on the blanket and watch the movie, talking and laughing throughout the whole thing.

“You want to go outside and kiss in the rain?” He asks, looking over to you suggestively, while the credits roll down the screen.

“A rain kiss? How cliche Mr. Maybank,” You smirk, “Let’s do it.”

I am SO sorry it took this long to post! I meant to post it on Wednesday but I wasn’t feeling good and yesterday I was just super busy! Anyway I really really like how this one turned out! I hope y’all liked it 🥺❤️

OBX Taglist (Open): @copper-boom @tovvaf @drewswannabegirl

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @a-partofthenarrative​

“Silver and Gold”

A/N This is a sequel to my 2018 Advent Calendar piece, “Evergreen”. It is not necessary to read that first, but it might be helpful as there are some references to that here. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading. Happy Holidays, y’all!

 Christine loved New York at Christmas.

 The sights, the sounds, the smells…every moment of strolling through the city streets, block by block, had brought an exhilarating thrill that had been absent from her heart for far too many years. Even hours later, as she stood in the kitchen, elbow deep in pie dough, she had been unable to wipe the smile from her face.

 Ms. Fleck had disappeared to somewhere or another at one point, claiming “errands” and leaving Christine to wander lower Manhattan for the better part of an hour. Weighed down by the variety of shopping bags, she had meandered uptown at a leisurely pace, stopping to admire the newly erected Christmas tree in Washington square before making her way up 5th Ave. to Herald Square, where she would find Ms. Fleck and Erik’s odd horseless contraption that had initially spirited her to Coney Island.

 As she passed the stream of elaborate shops boasting anything any man, woman or children could ever desire, she lingered here and there, casting appreciative eyes to the elaborate window displays attracting crowds along the sidewalk. One particular window snagged her attention: a fanciful tower of toys teetering precariously on top of one another, held aloft in some miraculous defiance of gravity. 

 Biting back a smile, she stepped away with a silent resolution to return with Gustave. The poor boy would be positively beside himself when he saw the treasure trove in front of her.

 She had located her shopping companion only moments later and, with confirmation from both parties that their feet and funds were exhausted, bags and passengers were located into the carriage for the trip home.

 At least...she hoped it would become home. Goodness, but it did feel like home; this crazy, complicated family she had formed in a strange netherworld of curiosities. Upon returning to Erik’s home, it had been discovered that they had beaten “the boys” back to the residence, so with no tree to decorate, Christine had set her attention to another one of her favorite holiday pastimes.

 Now, planted firmly in the large kitchen, covered in flour and holiday cheer, she rolled the stubborn dough into a thin sheet, a pie plate stuffed full of apples set to the side patiently waiting for its cover. Satisfied with her work, her fingers had just curled around the edge of the thin sheet when a commotion drew her attention to the front of the house. Brow furrowed, she wiped her hands on her apron and left the kitchen to investigate.

 Ms. Fleck was already present and Christine cast her a questioning look before another shout snapped her eyes to the foyer.

 Dr. Gangle stood just inside the door, the sole member of the group lucky enough to claim the prime position out of the cold, although one’s definition of luck would depend on one’s opinion. The poor man’s arms were wrapped around the top of one of the largest evergreen trees she had ever seen, this one seemingly dwarfing the childhood giant she had described to Erik only hours before. No doubt this had been Gustave’s doing. As his father before him, her son had a tendency to want to “one-up” anyone or anything that he deemed worthy of bragging rights and she bit back a chuckle despite herself. Maybe it was time her beloved masked enigma had a taste of his own medicine; the fact that it was delivered by his own progeny was turning out to be a delightful twist of Fate.

 Shouts echoed from beyond the door, phasing in and out in a cacophony of chaos as the tree twisted and turned in a macabre dance in attempts to be pushed over the threshold.

 “Left! Move it to the left!....No, the OTHER left!”

 “That IS left! Watch it! You’re going to take the paint clean off the frame!”

 “Gangle! Squelch! If either one of you idiots scratches the paint, you’ll be repairing it yourselves with Ms. Fleck’s mascara brush!” 

 Both women watched in stunned silence at the tenuous exchange before Christine glanced down, brow furrowed and voice weary. “Goodness, but it sounds like they’re having some trouble, doesn’t it?”

 The smaller woman shrugged. “Frankly, I’m impressed that the Master knows what a mascara brush is.”

 Christine blinked, unable to answer before the tree moved just so, allowing a small blur through the doorway and straight into her skirts. “Maman!” Gustave beamed up at her, thick snow caked in the hair along his brow. “Look at the tree we found! Isn’t it wonderful? I think it’s even bigger than yours!”

 “It is..something!” she exclaimed brightly, hunkering down to look him in the eyes. “What happened, cherie? You look as though you’ve been caught in a snowstorm.”

 Gustave pulled off his hat and swiped a carelessly palm over his hairline, sending clumps of snow to the wooden floor. “We had the best time! Dr. Gangel and mr. Squelch had a hard time cutting down the tree, so Mr. Y stepped in to help them. Well, the three of them began to argue over which way was the best way and while they were yelling at each other, the tree started to creak and then fell- right toward the sleigh!”

 Christine gasped, feeling slightly “Oh no…”

 “Oh yes!” The boy chattered on, seemingly oblivious to the picture he was painting. “That seemed to get their attention and then they ran toward the sleight. I didn’t get to see much after that because Mr. Y grabbed me, but we ended up in the snow. You should see him, Mama! He looks so funny!”

 “Gustave, do you realize any of you could have been hurt or worse?! Mr. Y likely saved your life!”

 Gustave rolled his eyes in a fashion so similar to Erik that Christine’s breath caught. “Maman, I’m fine. The tree didn’t even land anywhere near us.” His little brow furrowed as he glanced at the tree in the doorway, a frustrated Dr. Gangle staring at its branches with open disdain. “Do you think we’ll be able to get it inside?”

 “I..don’t know, love. I’m sure Mr. Y and the others are doing everything they can.”

 More grunts and shouts caused mother and son to glance up and Christine quickly snatched Gustave and stepped back as the tree hurtled forward, succumbing to a final desperate push from Squelch and Gangle. With one hand planted firmly on her son and the other pressed to her chest, she watched wide-eyed as the men muscled the enormous evergreen deeper into the house, and a masked figure stumble in behind them, shutting the door with an echoing bang and slumping against it with a weary sigh.

.

This man looked nothing like the impeccable figure she had always known. Instead, the man before her was a disheveled mess; wilted against the doorway, chest heaving, hair caked with snow, overcoat askew and one glove and his cravat missing (although really, who wore full evening dress to trek through the woods?).

 With a quiet word and a promise to reconvene soon, Christine sent Gustave upstairs with Ms. Fleck to clean up before pasting a sympathetic smile on her lips and moving to his side. “Oh, my poor Erik,” she soothed, taking his gloveless hand in hers. “Something tells me today did not go exactly as planned.”

 He cracked one eye open at the sound of her voice. “Christine…” Even his voice was exhausted. “Never again…”

 “But Gustave is happy, Erik. You did well.”

 “...and nearly killed us both in the process.”

 “Yes, well, he did mention that,” she muttered. “But thankfully no one was killed or maimed and the tree was delivered successfully…”

 Both eyes opened to regard her now and she only sighed and smoothed a hand over his snow-wet face. “I am nearly done with an apple pie. I meant it to be a surprise, but given the circumstances…” She chuckled at the faint light that came to his gaze at the mention of his favorite dessert, another newly discovered similarity to their son. “Go and clean up while I finish and then we’ll all decorate our new tree together.”

 This brought another groan as Erik let his head fall back against the door with a thump. “Christine, I have a bountiful staff. This is what they are paid for.”

 “Not this year.” she countered. “Besides, decorating is the most fun of all. I’ve already laid out the popcorn to be strung and I picked out some lovely ornaments in the City today.”

 “The City? Christine, you went to Manhattan alone?!?”

 “Of course not, Erik. Ms. Fleck accompanied me” She squeezed his hand. “Now up you go.”

 “But Christine!”

 She met him eye for eye. “Don’t! I am a grown woman. We were perfectly safe. Now go upstairs, change into some fresh clothes and decorate the Christmas tree with your son.” Stepping back, she helped him to his feet, smoothing her hands down the sleeves of his overcoat and pressing a kiss to his frozen lips. “I shall join you as soon as I get this pie in the oven.” 

 *********************************************************************

Nearly an hour later, the pie covered and browning nicely, Christine untied her apron, let down her hair and migrated to the living room where the festivities already appeared to be happening in full swing.

 The tree now stood in the place of honor in the front corner of the room, beautifully centered in front of the large bay window, creating a lovely visual for anyone who happened to pass along the street. Dr. Gangle, Squelch and Ms. Fleck had taken up positions nearby, sorting through the packages and parcels from their shopping excursion, taking turns to comment on the contents of each.

 Muttering from the back corner turned her attention to Erik and Gustave, both dressed in fresh shirtsleeves, waistcoats and trousers, and seated side-by-side on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them. Gustave was attempting to teach his father to string the snack food to create a festive garland that would be just perfect. Erik, bless his heart, listened indulgently as he tried to copy Gustave’s motions. Unfortunately, while the former Opera Ghost was a master of innumerable things, the muttered curses and muffled cries of pain indicated that the needle was making better progress connecting with skin rather than kernels. 

 The rustling of skirts announced her presence to the room and Erik immediately set the string and bowl aside as he stood to greet her. “Ah, there you are, Christine. Would you care to ah...take over the garland crafting?”

 Biting back a smile at his attempts to cover his inadequate stringing skills, she gave him an impish grin as she drew near. “And deprive you of the experience? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 “It’s all right, Maman,” Gustave commented, never taking his eyes from his work. “He’s not very good at it.”

 Erik’s gaze snapped to hers as if to say There! You see? but she quickly and quietly tempered it with one of her own. “Not everyone excels at the same things, Gustave. But if there is one thing I know about Mr. Y, it is that he has quite the eye for making beautiful things.”

 “Except popcorn garland,” Gustave supplied.

 Erik’s expression was positively indignant as she worked to suppress the quirk of her lips. “So it would seem.”

 “We’ve got all of the ornaments arranged for you when you’re ready, Boss,” Squelch announced, waving a hand over the various boxes of colored bulbs laid out beside the tree. “Ms. Christine picked up quite the selection.”

 “Wonderful. Thank you, all.” Erik managed, taking Christine’s hand as they approached the tree. “Shall be begin?”

 The three glanced between themselves, then back at the Master and his lady. “You want us to help?”

 “Of course!” Christine smiled, “besides, none of this would have been possible without you.”

 No further permission was needed by any of the parties. Gustave, finished with his popcorn garland, wound it around the tree, accepting assistance from Erik and Dr. Gangle at different points depending on height and availability. Christine, Squelch and Ms. Fleck declared themselves in charge of the myriad colors of ornaments and directed where and what were hung until the tree was transformed from a blank green palette to a wonder of color and light.

 One of the most important purchases for Christine had been a set of candles for Advent. “This was one of my favorite traditions growing up,” she remarked as she struck a match. “With all of the traveling my father and I did, there were many of our traditions that we were forced to forego, but he always made certain we had a set of candles for Advent.” With a radiant smile, she lit their first candle, relishing in the pop and crack of the wick catching fire. “This one represents hope.”

“The second represents faith,” Passing the match to Gustave, she helped him light the second candle before offering it to the masked man standing at her side. Wordlessly, he accepted it, his expression unreadable as he set the match to the wick and the third candle spring to life. “And the third,” she supplied, meeting Erik’s gaze over the flickering flame, “is for joy.” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips then and her heart squeezed a bit tighter in her chest.

 “What about the other candles?” Gustave asked.

 Christine blew out the match and smiled down at him. “Traditionally, there are four Sundays in Advent and each week one more candle is lit. The fifth is lit on Christmas Eve. We’ve started a bit late this year, as it’s nearly Christmas, but all will be lit as the season progresses.”

 Gustave studied the candles, then glanced at her “Did mofar teach you any other traditions that we can have here?”  

 “Oh, cheri, so many! Although, we rarely had the chance to partake in any of them given that we were never in Sweden much after my fifth birthday. The legend of St. Lucia, julbord, julklapper.” She brightened. “I may be able to make julmust for Christmas Eve if I can find the proper ingredients. That is, if you don’t mind, Erik?”

 Slipping an arm around her waist, he remarked. “I want to know everything that is important to you, ange. If it makes you and Gustave happy, then consider it done.”

 The boy’s attention shifted to him then. “What about you, Mr. Y? Did you have any traditions growing up?”

 Erik’s panicked eyes immediately shot to her and Christine smoothly took control of the conversation. “Gustave, I’m sure Mr. Y knows many of the same holiday traditions that you do.”

 “But he’s never even had a Christmas tree before…”

 “And there were many years where I did not either. Like myself, Mr. Y has spent a great deal of his life traveling, haven't you, Erik?”

 ���I have,” the masked man confirmed, but offered no further explanation.

 Thankfully, this seemed to satisfy the boy for the moment. “So... we’re blending. Maman’s traditions with Mr. Y’s?”

 Christine glanced at Erik, who looked as lost as she felt. “Er…”

 “In a sense, I suppose,” Erik supplied. “But perhaps it is more accurate to say that we are starting our own traditions. As a..” he trailed off suddenly, his normally stoic face slipping into something akin to sudden wonder.

 “As a family?” Gustave ventured.

 “Yes, my love,” Christine whispered, fingers covertly creeping into Erik’s palm as he held her hand like a lifeline. “Exactly that.” Drawing him close to her side, she bent down to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve had an exciting day and according to that clock in the hall, it is much past your bedtime. Say goodnight to everyone and I’ll be up in a moment.”

 “Ah, actually, Christine, may I speak with you for a moment?” Erik cut in.

 “Come on, little master,” Ms. Fleck said with a wink, catching Erik’s eye. “If you can get your nightclothes on, I’ll read you a story before your mama comes to tuck you in.”

 Gustave broke into a grin, pecking Christine on the cheek before dashing for the stairs. Christine watched him go with a loving smile before tipping her head back to smile up at the man stationed behind her. “Look at how happy he is, Erik. You gave him one of the best days, despite all of the trials that came with it. That boy worships the ground you walk on.”

 “I care for him in a way that I never knew I was capable of,” he admitted, tucking her hand in his arm and turning to the tree. “I would move heaven and earth for that boy.”

 “Welcome to parenthood, my love,” she whispered.

 With a sigh, Erik moved to stand before her, cloaked in the colors cast by the candles flames against the glass ornaments of the tree. “Christine, I admit I’ve been struggling when it comes to you and Gustave. I am not proud of it, but you must understand that I spent the majority of my life in utter solitude. Even in our...early acquaintance, the very notion that someone would care for me, let alone that I would one day have a son of my own…. was laughable.

 “Both of us know how the last story ended and quite frankly, as far as I was concerned, that was the end,” He shook his head, glancing down to the floor. “But then our paths converged again, ten years later with the knowledge of Gustave...and almost losing you again...it awoke something in me, Christine. Something that made me realize that I never want to feel that way again.

 “You, my darling, are the only thing that matters to me. You and Gustave and, if it is agreeable to you, you would make me innumerably happy if you would remain in Coney Island.”

 Her breath caught as the weight of what he was asking began to sink in. “Erik, are you…?

 He gripped her hands tighter, gaze steady, but pleading. “Stay with me, Christine. Be my wife. Let’s give Gustave the family we should have been from the beginning.”

 ‘Erik…” she whispered, leaning her forehead into his chest as tears flooded her eyes. “Truly?”

 In response, he pulled a box from his vest pocket, flipping it open to reveal a diamond solitaire. On one side, a band of gold, warm and radiant, linked a band of silver on the other, cool but elegant, joining in metallic harmony to cradle the diamond that winked up at her.

 “Oh, Erik…” she breathed again, “it’s stunning”

 “I know the tradition is bended knee, but I seem to have had a traumatic incident with a rather aggressive evergreen,” he replied dryly, “so I hope you’ll forgive...”

 “Yes.”

 He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

 “Yes. I’ll marry you. We shall stay.” Christine beamed up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “With all of my heart, I love you, you stubborn boar. The answer is ‘yes’.” Curling her fingers around the edges of his waistcoat she pulled him forward in a flash of motion and kissed him thoroughly in front of said evergreen tree.

 A chorus of enthusiastic cheers broke the spell a moment later and the couple turned to see Gustave, Ms. Fleck, Dr. Gangle and Squelch positively glowing at them from the stairs. “Way to go, Boss!”

 “Yes, well...” Erik sputtered, looking to Christine for assistance. She only chuckled, kissed him deeply again and extended her left hand, to which he responded by obediently sliding the ring on her finger.

 Gustave rushed down the stairs to embrace them both, begging to see his mother’s ring, then beaming up at Erik as if he had just been handed the world on a plate. “Does this mean I can call you ‘Father’ now?”

 Christine’s breath caught as her brown eyes collided with Erik’s mismatched ones, which looked slightly watery again. She watched as his throat bobbed, silently struggling for control before managing an answer. “Of course, my boy. You may call me whatever you wish,” he said, stooping down to look the boy in the eye. “You are my son and I am sorry if I’ve done anything to make you feel as though I’ve held you at arm’s length. I..love you, Gustave. I always have.”

 Christine pressed her hands to her mouth, tears flowing anew as the boy’s mouth trembled and he launched himself into the arms of the masked man whom he had come to idolize. Erik caught him, holding him in an awkward embrace as he met Christine’s teary smile, unbidden moisture already beginning to track down his visible cheek.

 Erik stood, bringing Gustave with him and Christine moved forward to join the embrace. As Erik’s free arm came around her and Gustave’s little hand held tight to hers, she was sure her heart would burst. 

 Her father used to say that a broken, battered path often led to the most beautiful destination and as she stood in the embrace of the two men she loved most in the world, bathed in the silver and gold glow of the candles and Christmas lights, she knew that she was finally home.

 With a family of her own making.

 As it always should have been.

 Eyes slipping closed, her fingers languidly trailed up and down Erik’s spine and smiled as the large hand at her waist squeezed her imperceptibly closer.

 From this day forward, as it always would be.

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Fire Keeper: Chapter 3

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim's older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures. Chapter 3 summary: Your first magic lesson with Vendel leads you to a certain book store. A/n: This is a really long chapter. I wanted to combine two episodes together and I had quite a few scene ideas and I wrote it so they went together and then suddenly I realized I got to 3k, so have fun. I hope y’all like it. Enjoy!

“Have some fun on your field trip today, okay Jim,” you said, giving your brother a quick hug, something you were beginning to do more often.

   “You too, have fun during your magic lesson and don’t forget to enjoy your day off either.”

   “I will,” you responded as you began walking down the sidewalk towards the canal.

   It wasn’t too far of a walk and you were down the crystal stairs and on your way to the Heartstone in no time.

   “Ms. Lake, welcome,” Vendel greeted as he turned to you.

   “Hi Vendel,” you responded, taking your seat next to a pile of books. You had begun your lessons the day after you arrived in Trollmarket and by now it was a routine. Vendel would finish whatever he was working on while you read a book and practiced your trollish. You were picking it up quickly, unlike your brother, but you understood that he was busier.

   You focused on the pile and you felt your magic begin stir inside you. You focused a little harder and your hands began to glow orange and seconds later so did the books. You waved your hands and the books floated into the air, forming a line. You began to read the covers to try and find one that interested you and you settled on the fourth book.

   “I see you’ve been practicing,” Vendel said. From his work table as you opened the old, worn book.

   “Practice makes perfect,” you replied as you began to read. You were halfway through the book—which was on the history of the troll-gnome relationship—when Vendel finished his work.

   “So, what am I learning today?” You asked, bookmarking your page and giving your full attention to your teacher.

   “I do not know much about Wizard magic, troll magic is different and I am running out of things I can teach you,” he paused to think and you waited patiently. “Hmm, I could teach you a few healing spells.”

   “I’m ready.”

~~~~

“You’re beginning to master the basics, and your training with your brother is beginning to show,” Vendel praised as you were able to recite all the incantations back to him. While levitating. Upside down.

“Thank you,” you beamed, settling back down to the floor.

“Your welcome.”

You said goodbye and made your way out of Trollmarket to enjoy the rest of your day. Enjoying the rest of your day would feature possibly visiting Douxie’s bookstore and reading the trollish books you had borrowed. It may not seem like the most thrilling of things to do, but you were excited.

You entered the bookshop and a bell tolled your arrival. You glanced around at the quaint store, it radiated a sort of peaceful and relaxing energy. You could definitely see yourself coming back and spending a lot of time there.

You wandered amongst the shelves looking at the books. Many of them looked old and you wondered if you might find something on magic. You were desperate for more knowledge and Vendel didn't exactly have books on your type of magic. For the time being you were stuck making troll spells work for you.

None of the books in the store seemed to be calling you so you made your way over to the staircase. Maybe there would be something for you on the second floor.

As you turned and got your view of the second floor, you also got a view of a cat. Said cat just so happened to be wearing glasses.

    "What in the world?" You mumbled, staring at the cat who was staring right back at you. It meowed, breaking eye contact and began to lick one of his paws.

You continued to stand there, frozen in confusion.

"Ah, Y/n. Hi,"  a certain English-accented boy said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

    "Um, hi Douxie," you said, turning your focus to him. He seemed to notice your confusion and he looked around, his eyes landing on the cat.

"Oh, that's where my glasses went. I've been looking all over for them!" He laughed a nervous sounding laugh and took the glasses from the cat. Putting them on he said, “Anyways, how may I help you?”

   You stood there, not saying anything for a few seconds longer. Douxie wearing glasses was an interesting sight and you had to admit he looked kinda cute.

   “Um, I’m looking for old books,” you stated lamely. You didn’t really know what else to say. You weren’t really looking for any books in particular and you weren’t exactly expecting to find a book with magic, you were just hoping.

   “Right this way.” Douxie motioned for you to follow him and he walked past you, rather slowly, down the stairs. He went to turn and rammed into the banister, almost falling down the rest of the stairs.

   “Douxie!” You rushed down the remaining stairs to help him up.

   “Thanks,” he said as you helped him up.

   “Are you sure those glasses help you see?” You jokingly asked.

   He chuckled nervously and continued to lead you to a shelf. “These may interest you.”

   You walked up to the shelf crammed with old books. You began to read the titles on the sides, occasionally pulling out a book that caught your interest, but so far none of them were really calling to you.

   You were so involved in your search you forgot that Douxie was still there.

   “Here, what about this one?” He asked, handing you an ancient looking book. While none of the other books called to you, this one did.

   You opened it up and began to leaf through it. The pages were filled with magic spells and they even looked like it was your type of magic. You flipped to the front of the book and found the author: M. Ambrosius.

   The book seemed so authentic, you knew you had to buy it and show Vendel.

   You turned to Douxie. “How much?”

   “It’s on me. We’ve had this book forever and no one seems to want it. Getting rid of it will open up space for more.”

   “No way, you’re working three jobs just to make ends meet. Here,” you handed him some money and gave him a quick hug. You were so excited about finding the book, you didn’t realize you were doing it until it was over.

   “Anyways, thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed. You internally rolled your eyes at yourself, falling for Douxie wasn’t a good idea.

   “Any time,” he replied and you noticed his cheeks were tinted pink.

   You opened your mouth to say more but your phone started ringing. It was Jim.

   “Hey, is everything okay?” You asked, worry gripping your heart.

   “Yeah, but Eli, one of my classmates, found some kind of troll remains. Toby and I are going to take Blinky and Aaarrrgghh to see it tonight.”

   “Okay send me the address.” The two of you said your goodbyes and you hung up.

   “Is everything okay?” Douxie asked, his face showing concern.

   “Yes. My brother just worries me sometimes and I always assume the worst.” You smiled at Douxie and began heading towards the door. “Again, thank you.”

   “Anytime.”

   You hopped into your car and drove to the address Jim had sent you. It didn’t take you too long and you were able to easily find and unfortunately recognize the remains. If your guess was right then they were the remains of a goblin.

   You had never met one before, but you had recently finished a book on magical creatures and they were evil little things that would be out to kill whoever or whatever made the splotch on the ground.

   You called Jim to tell him of your findings and he promised to meet you at Eli’s house at nightfall. Meanwhile you began reading the book Douxie had given you.

   Time flew by as you read the book. It was fascinating and had little notes in the margin. You were interrupted from your reading by the arrival of everyone.

   The five of you were able to determine that the goblins would be after the delivery guy who would be back later that night and so the stakeout began.

   You hid with Jim and Blinky and were able to catch up with your brother. It had been a long while since you had the time to just talk with him about everything that was going on.

   You were able to talk about his fight with Steve, his upcoming one with Draal, and everything else. It was really nice.

   You were able to talk for hours before the delivery guy arrived and the goblins followed soon after. They were terrifying, but you tried to keep your cool. You didn't want them sensing your fear.

   Unfortunately Jim and Toby were unaware of that little but important fact so goblins began to chase the five of you all the way to Toby’s house.

It was your first time out on the field helping Jim ‘Trollhunt’ and you didn’t know if you were exhilarated or terrified. It took you forever to fall asleep and you were jittery and extra alert during your job the next day.

That afternoon as you were on your way to the Heartstone for another lesson when Jim called you.

“Hey, Toby and I found out that the goblin hideout is at the Museum. We’re going with Blinky and Aaarrrgghh tonight.”

“Okay, stay safe. I’m going to go to my lesson if you don’t need me.”

“I’ll always need you, but have fun at your lesson.” After that and your goodbyes you hung up as you arrived at the Heartstone.

“Hello Ms. Lake.”

“Hi Vendel. I found a book yesterday and it looks like it might be about Wizard magic.” He turned to you, quickly abandoning whatever he was working on. You handed it to him and he began to flip through it.

“Merlin wrote this,” Vendel said, turning his attention back to you. “It’s authentic, but I’m concerned about the means in which you bought this book.”

“I can look into it,” you offered as the gravity of the situation hit you. It would be very bad if there were more books out there like this and humans were reading it and believing it.

“Good. I suppose we can go onto our lesson now. We’ll move to the Hero’s forge and I want you to try levitating while blasting targets.”

Time passed slowly as you practiced your magic. You were pretty proud of yourself for ho9w quickly you were learning magic and excelling in it.

Levitating was hard though and took up lots of energy so you had to take frequent breaks, but slowly the breaks were becoming fewer and further between.

You levitated into the air again, ready for the next round when your phone beeped, startling you. You crashed to the floor hard and Vendel chuckled. “Perhaps you should work on your concentration.”

You smiled at him while checking your phone. “It’s from Jim.”

You unlocked your phone and read the text aloud, “Museum, shapeshifter, help, hurry.”

“Go,” was all Vendel said and you took off running. Exhaustion was only an afterthought as you rushed to get to your brother.

The worst thoughts entered your mind when you saw the police cars in front of the museum. You ran up to an officer.

“Sir, what’s going on?” You asked panting.

“Some kids broke into the museum for some sort of bracelet,” he responded in a bored tone and you tried don’t to roll your eyes.

“Y/n!” Toby called out to you as he was pushed into a squad car.

“You know these kids?” The officer asked.

“Yeah, the tall one’s my brother. I, uh, told them to wait till morning so I could talk to the curator about getting the bracelet back, but obviously they didn’t listen,” you said smiling. It wasn’t your most creative lie, but you couldn’t tell the officer that what they had really gone in there for was to follow goblins.

“Well we’re just going to the station so follow us there.” With that said you got into your car and made your way to the police station.

You were sitting in the waiting room when your old history teacher, Mr. Strickler, arrived.

“Ah, Ms. Lake. I didn’t know you decided to stay here for college.”

“I’m taking a break,” you said. “I didn’t know you frequented police stations in the dead of night.”

“I’m here because of your brother actually. Nomura and I are close friends and I am hoping to convince her to drop the charges.”

“Wow, thank you, Mr. Strickler. That’s very kind of you, you’ve been a great teacher to both Jim and I.”

“That is what I strive to do, Ms. Lake,” he said as we walked down a hall to where you assumed Nomura was.

Soon after your mom arrived. “Y/n, what happened?”

You quickly explained what happened and you did your best to talk her down from grounding him indefinitely. You knew Jim shouldn’t even be getting booked at the police station and you wanted to make sure he didn’t have too bad of a punishment. Eventually you and your mom settled on him and Toby being grounded until they apologize. By the time that was decided you were heading home.

You were exhausted and fell asleep the moment your head hit the pillow and in the morning you almost missed your alarm. The day went by quickly and you arrived at home to see Jim making a feast.

“What’s all this?”

“My fight with Draal is tomorrow,” he said in way of explanation. You smiled sadly, you couldn’t handle the fact that Jim thought he was going to die. And on top of your fear and worry you weren’t able to get tomorrow of work.

You hugged your brother tightly and began setting the table. “Anything you want me to do?”

“Just… just take care of mom.”

“I meant with dinner, goof. You aren’t going to die. I refuse to believe it.”

“Fine, can you stir this?” He asked, handing you a bowl. You didn’t fail to notice that he didn’t react to your statement.

“So,” you started in an attempt to change the conversation, “what were mom and Mr. Strickler talking about last night, she seemed almost giddy when you got home.”

“Ughh, they’re going out for coffee.”

“Oh,” you said smiling to yourself. Mr. Strickler was a great teacher and if he made your mom happy you were happy.

Your mom arrived home soon after and you had a wonderful family dinner filled with laughs. It was one of your best nights in a while.

That night you fell into a peaceful sleep. Tomorrow would be scary, but you believed in your brother. He would win.  

You were sleeping so peacefully you almost missed your alarm that you had specifically set early so you would be able to talk to Jim. Your mom was already gone for work and so was Jim. So much for that plan. You quickly got ready for work and arrived almost a half hour early.

Throughout the day you were a huge bundle of nerves. Your focus was on Jim, but thanks to your training in multitasking you were able to do a good job at work. With adrenaline and worry coursing through your veins you got your work done twice as fast, but distraction plagued you too. You almost used your telekinesis to save a tray that was spilled by your coworker.

You were so distracted you didn’t notice when your shift ended and Douxie took the broom from you.

The bistro had quieted done almost a half hour ago and you had been sweeping that whole time even though you finished in fifteen minutes.

“Are you okay?” Douxie asked. Concern, this time for you, was etched on his face and you tried not to read much into it.

“Some things are going on with my brother today and I’m scared for him,” you explained.

“Why don't I help you to your car so you can go talk with him?” Douxie offered and you nodded. You quickly took off your apron and grabbed your stuff.

“Do you need me to drive you?” Douxie asked as he noticed your hands were shaking. Now that you didn’t have work you were only more afraid and upset over the fact that Toby or anyone hadn’t called you.

“No thank you,” you replied. You didn’t want to make Douxie late to work.

“It’s really no problem,” he replied and you were about to respond when your phone began ringing. You fumbled to grab it and you almost dropped it. You looked at the caller id. It was Toby.

“Toby? Please tell me Jim is okay.”

“Jimbo’s fine, he even spared Draal’s life. Most of the trolls aren’t happy about that, but we’ll be home soon.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” you mumbled, then, “Bye Toby, thank you for being there for Jim.”

“Anytime Y/n/n.” He hung up and you turned to see Douxie offering a tissue. You were confused at first but then you realized you were crying from the joy and relief that Jim was alive.

“Good news I hope,” Douxie said as you took the tissue and wiped your eyes.

“Jim’s okay.”

“It’s sweet how much you care about your brother.”

“He has a lot on his shoulders and he cares so much for everyone else. Someone had to be there for him.” With that said you wished him well and started driving home.

You pulled into the driveway just as Jim walked up with Toby. You leapt out of your car, not bothering to turn it off, to hug them.

“I know this is probably only the first of many times that I will be concerned for your life and the first of many post-death-defying-situation-hugs, but please try not to do this often. I was worried for you all day. One of my coworkers had to walk me to my car because I was shaking so much.”

“Sorry I put you through that Y/n.”

“Thanks. It won’t be the last time, but I’m glad you’re safe now. By the way I called in your absences at school.”

“Thank you.” They both exclaimed and you smiled. The three of you said your goodbyes and you turned off and locked your car while Jim took care of his bike, then the two of you walked inside together.

Unfortunately it wasn’t time to celebrate yet Nomura was inside the house talking with your mom. You scowled at her as Jim began talking. You never expected Jim to actually apologize to the changing and you had planned on covering him, but here she was now, having tea with your mom.

Your mom started to say something when she fell unconscious.

“I‘ ll get mom!” You immediately called out as Jim said the amulet’s incantation and began to fight Nomura. Your heart rate sped up for the thousandth time that day as you checked her pulse. It was there and you began to believe Nomura that whatever was in the tea would only hurt your mom’s memory.

Jim retreated up the stairs and you began to recite the healing incantations you had learned a few days ago. They didn’t wake her up, but you could tell your mom would be alright. You heard Jim take the fight outside and you realized it wouldn’t be good if your mother woke up at the table.

You focused on her and she began to glow orange. She floated up from her seat and you were able to move her to her bed without hurting her.

You quietly closed the door and realized that you didn't hear fighting any more. You carefully walked out to the backyard only to find Jim and Draal chatting.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, Draal showed up just in time.”

You turned to Draal. “Thank you.”

“Your welcome, sister of Jim. I have requested to your brother that I stay here and protect your home. I can not go back to troll market while my honor is tarnished”

“First, call me Y/n and second it would be lovely having an extra line of defense here.”

“Good.” Draal walked into your house and Jim made to follow, but you pulled him into a hug first.

“I know having Nomura here wasn’t your choice, but why don’t you take the rest of the day off? It’s been a long one,” you suggested.

“That sounds nice.”

****

And I hope y'all liked it. I had a blast writing it and I have planned many more chapters. I've really enjoyed exploring Y/n 's life as well as her relationship with Douxie and there will definitely be more of that. Anyways I've written a sort of bonus half chapter from Douxie's pov and I will post that tomorrow. Have a great night/day and stay safe! Thank y'all for reading!

Chapter 3.5: https://writings-of-a-daphodil.tumblr.com/post/627219547087323136/fire-keeper-chapter-35

[themilky-way]

the motive {loki odinson}

gif credit: astouract

pairing: loki odinson x female! reader

summary: he takes pleasure in the way you react to his words. it’s a fun game up until you’ve had enough, and everything he’s wanted is sitting before him. based on the morning by the weeknd.

warnings: was supposed to be hella implied nsfw but i guess i got soft halfway through BUT i redeemed myself so ha 😼. anyways, minor nsfw themes and language, so caution. tiny, TINY angst oops. we kinky in dis one 

author’s note: i started school again so getting more works done will take a bit longer but i’ll try to write as much as i can! anyways hope this satisfies y’all 😌

-------

it had started out as a joke. a fun little game that would bring him some sort of entertainment during his stay on earth. and while it did work fairly well during the first few weeks, he never thought it would transition into this-whatever the hell this was.

loki was cunning and devious; it was part of his nature that would never cease to exist within him. he enjoyed causing some trouble here and there if it meant he kept a molecule of sanity. so when thor suggested he stay with him at the avengers tower, he thought he might explode. living in a humongous multi billionaire house with the people who wanted him dead? it was a set up. it had to be.

for loki, the first few weeks had been tolerable. he’d wake up in his assigned bedroom, fix himself a mediocre breakfast once the kitchen was empty, and then scurry up to a quiet place. he discovered that he could do as he pleased whenever the compound was free of residents, and since the avengers had much bigger threats now, he didn’t have to worry about them spying on him. it was false freedom, but he could live with it.

when he’d have such luxury, he would sometimes walk down to the common room to settle with a good book. sure, it may appear to be a boring pastime, but it wasn’t as if loki was going to throw an exuberant ball without tony’s permission. not that he was a man- dare he say god-of seeking approval, but it was common courtesy, for odin’s sake! he had morals he needed to follow, thus requiring him to partake in hobbies that would not get him in trouble.

however, when he came across a particular mortal one night, the values he sought after vanished. it’s as if they never existed at all, and once again the laws of time and space defied him. you were there, taking up his entire field of vision in just an oversized t-shirt. could it be your partner’s? loki questioned. it most likely was, yet he found himself hoping it wasn’t. in that moment, it didn’t help that his mind had stopped functioning. when you stepped into the kitchen, the shirt hiking up slightly with every step, his body didn’t allow him to look away. his novel was discarded far away on the couch, and his hands searched for some type of cloth to grip. it was here, with your body bent over and curiously searching through the refrigerator, that his carnal instincts heightened. then, his knuckles turned white when you finally noticed him.

“oh fuck, hi,” you gasped. the glass bottle you were holding dropped, but it knew better than to actually hit the floor. seconds after catching it, you turned to look at the stranger in front of you. “didn’t see ya there.”

loki tried-really tried-to think of a good reason not to bend you over again, on that lovely kitchen counter your fingertips were dancing on, and take you right then and there. perhaps it might seem a tad bit rude? would such an action be impolite? the right answer was yes: it was absolutely all of the above. a first date is necessary to win the heart of a lady, and then a couple more to build a friendship. the relationship would come naturally, with given time, of course. in his head, the god was scoffing at how eager he was to win this clumsy, beautiful creature. he was one who took what he wanted-whenever he wanted-and didn’t look back. but loki was confined to the dull walls of the compound, and apparently so were you. he needn’t worry, for time had joined his side once more; he’d get to know how sweet you could taste, how your mouth would mindlessly shudder out his name, and the man couldn’t be more thrilled.

“are you able to speak?”

the simple question reached him, and when he searched for the source, he came face to face with you. you were standing in front of him, in all your delicious glory, and it almost broke him. still, he was deceitful; you couldn’t know that. “of course i speak, you fool,” loki shot back.

“okay, well, you didn’t answer me back there,” you pointed out. your hands were neatly clasped behind you, excitedly rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet, when you extended a hand for introduction. your name confidently slipped out, giving loki the most tender smile anyone could offer him. “pleased to meet you, sir.”

sir. the name stirred something up inside him, and he wasn’t able to tell if he’d accidentally let out a moan upon hearing it. did you know how innocent you sounded? how ravishing you appeared right now-with the soft skin of your thighs drawing out the patterns he so wished to kiss, or how the outline of your bosom prominently showed itself through your clothes. he stopped himself, though, before he could cross the line between observant and creepy. the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, having had the same dreadful feeling for far too long during his lifetime.

“don’t call me that.” the hand you were holding out was covered by his own. the handshake was quick, not too harsh or loose, but just adequate. he said his name, and he found himself missing the feeling of your skin against his.

“why?”

“because it’s not for you to say.” a lie. a very well calculated one, at that. he may be properly forged in the art of deception, but right now he wasn’t quite sure he passed the test. if he could grant permission to any woman to use the term of endearment, it’d sure as hell be you.

“alright then,” you mildly laughed. “i’ll just have to find a name i can call you.”

after that, loki realized that his source of happiness ultimately came from you. he enjoyed the unlikely bond you both had, one that formed because of the god’s inability to keep it in his pants. it was awkward at first-with everything you did or said locked in his mind wherever he’d go-but the confidence he always carried with him returned at one point.

today, loki never forgot to let you know what you did to him. this was it. the game he sought after since his inherent arrival at the tower. this was the adrenaline, the crazed connection he’d been hunting for centuries. it ignited something-between the two of you-whenever loki’s mouth would hover over your earlobe, whispering just how agonizingly slow he could take you. he never mentioned how he’d go about doing it, leaving you to wonder which part of him would fulfill the deed. oftentimes, loki didn’t even have to say anything. if he was feeling particularly shy that evening, and the team was all there, all loki would do was pat his knee. if you want to, if you really need to, you can finish on my leg. the simple image of it would have your hand between your legs that night.

“loki, what the hell.” you found him inside your dorm one particularly rainy night, lighting the candles you kept on either of your nightstands. “i keep my door locked for a reason, y’know. and stop wasting my candles.”

“i can’t help myself, darling. they smell quite lovely,” loki smiled. it was sincere, adoring even, and the way he took comfort in your tiny space brought a light tug to your stomach. you stayed still as you watched his tall form stride over to you. a small breath caught in your throat when loki peered down at you, and he caught it. he knew what he did to you, and he gained a new sense of pride at just how quickly he could make your knees go weak. his thumb and index fingers suddenly-gently-lifted your chin higher so your eyes could lock together. his own searched for something as if to look for the answer to his next question.

“you’re aware this isn’t just strictly physical, right?”

quite frankly, you were not in the loop even a little bit. “what?”

the tiny whisper made him want to carve out your lips with his own, slow, and taunting, and hard. he refrained for the time being. “think hard on it. there’s no rush.”

“no, i get what you meant. it’s just” you shook your head, prompting loki to let go of his grip. “i dunno. i thought you didn’t catch feelings, let alone for me.” loki let out a hearty laugh which forced a goofy grin onto your face. you liked seeing him like this. happy.

“i’m not stone cold, darling. you’re the only one i’ve ever had an infatuation with, though. well done, you seem to have captured my heart,” he joked. you giggled with him as you lightly shoved his chest, but loki caught your wrist before you could take it back. the kiss he brought to the inside of it had you swooning. a childish, girly feeling, yet you couldn’t care less. the both of you stayed there for a while and casually chatted until it was time for loki to head out. that night, you hardly got any sleep.

-------

ever since then, loki acted as if he didn’t remember it. he went back to his cocky self, not that you minded, but some simple recognition would’ve been nice. the days lapsed as they did before: loki doing everything in his divine power to make you ache for him. it worked, no matter how hard you avoided it, but soon you stopped trying. your body demanded for loki to touch you. to give you more than a simple brush of his lips to your wrist, yet he gave you anything but. and so you set out to change that.

it was the late hours of the night, with your team comfortably dispersed amongst the common room. movie night was in full effect, and no one had the intention of looking away from the gory film that was currently playing. you were seated next to wanda, the man you wanted painfully too far away from your reach. he didn’t have any clue you were angry with him, nor were you going to tell him. he was a thoughtful man, he’d figure it out.

you blinked away only to be met with his gaze. it was sharp, hungry. he looked you over as his tongue dipped out to run along his lip, biting it once he finally saw what he wanted. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t arouse you. of course it did; the poor man would rail you straight into this couch right now if he got the chance to.

you looked away, fearing vulnerability, and somehow managed to make it to the end of the marathon. you all said your farewell’s and deparated to your designated corridors, and just when you were about to close your door, a hand stopped it.

he pushed himself inside without much resistance from your own part. you stepped back and allowed him to close it, suddenly feeling a bit small. he looked at you then, the hunger replaced by confusion.

“is everything alright?” he inquired. no it’s not. you won’t shove two fingers into my mouth and tell me how good i’ve been.

“is everything alright-” you scoffed, “no it’s fucking not, loki.” you ran your hands through your hair and looked down, finding the decorative tiles on your floor quite intriguing.

“hey, woah, look at me. tell me what’s wrong, sweet.”

“that. that’s what’s wrong, loki. it’s the way you can tease me whenever you want, and call me sweet names and expect me not to react. you give me nothing to work with, for fuck’s sake!” a couple tears ran down your cheeks unbeknownst to you, but loki was quick to hold your face in his hands. his thumb wiped the drops in quick, tender-like motions and he crumbled at the way you focused on him.

“i’m sorry, darling. my intentions were never meant to bring you harm, much less sorrow. how can i fix this?”

“i need you to, fuck i-” you took a couple of breaths. “i need-want-you to touch me. to make me feel good, in all the ways you know how.”

loki chuckled quietly, a proud, defiant smirk curving along his lips. “is that what this is about? why, you could’ve just asked. no need for a tantrum.”

rolling your eyes, you tried to look away from him, but his hands began traveling to the curve of your neck, a lonely thumb parting your lips. he pried your mouth open and slipped it inside, letting the noise hidden in the back of his throat escape when your tongue wrapped around him. “is this what you wanted?”

your own luscious moan filled the room, and you felt his thumb push harder against your tongue.

“use your words, angel.”

an enticing gasp. “yes, sir.”

[deadlyanddelicate]

Could you maybe do something like Adam and Ronan hanging out with Blue and Gansey near the beginning of their relationship and Ronan marvelling at how he actually gets to hold Adam's hand now and it feels too good to be true 🥺

dear anon... i’m so sorry. this spiralled from the intended 500 words of cute hand holding to 2500 words of group dynamics. i have no excuse. hopefully there is still enough hand-holding to fit the bill 😅

since this got long-ish, you can also find it over at my AO3 if you prefer to read there!

and at every table, i’ll save you a seat

adam/ronan, fluff, 2.5k. takes place after the main events of trk but before the trk epilogue.

“I’m just saying, if he starts shit, I’m gonna walk out. I don’t need that drama in my life right now.” Ronan huffed, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, hands shoved deep into his leather jacket pockets. His breath condensed in the cold early December air. “Noted,” Adam replied, with the patient tone of someone who had heard the threat before and was not particularly concerned.

Ronan glowered - not at Adam or at anyone in particular, he just glowered. He did mean it. He couldn’t be fighting with Gansey right now, he just couldn’t.

Technically, they were already in a fight. This was new: historically, it was Adam and Ronan snarking at each other until one of them snapped, much to Gansey’s great exasperation; or Adam and Gansey waging cold war at each other until Ronan got tired of it and did something purposefully outrageous just so they’d get mad at him and forget whatever argument they were having. It usually wasn’t Ronan and Gansey. But then Ronan had dropped out of school.

The argument that had followed hadn’t been big and explosive, but rather drawn out into instalments: interrupted before things could get too bad and then picked up again at a different time, with Gansey pleading and needling and insisting graduation was mere months away. Ronan had endured a week of this before dealing with it the only way he could conceive of: by moving himself out of Monmouth and back into the Barns, which had been the plan anyway.

Adam had been a quiet bystander in this. He did not approve of Ronan dropping out, and it was clear in the tight line of his mouth when Ronan had told him. But he had always been good at picking his battles, and he had clearly decided not to fight Ronan’s for him. “Are you sure?” he had asked, looking at Ronan with narrowed blue eyes that, as usual, saw far too much. “Yeah,” Ronan had replied. In all honesty, he hadn’t exactly thought it through, because he could not think it through right now - but that was exactly why he was dropping out. He couldn’t be around people. He couldn’t be expected to function and show up and act like an engaged student and study for exams after– everything. So he said again, “Yeah.” And Adam had nodded, and that had been that.

Of course Gansey, correctly guessing that Adam would disapprove of anyone giving up on education, had tried to gain access to his – recently increased - leverage, but his efforts had fallen flat as far as Ronan could tell.

“But you must realise it’s a mistake”, he’d said on the only occasion Ronan had been witness to, one time when he’d arrived early to pick Adam up from work. “Don’t tell me you agree with him!”

“I don’t, but it’s his mistake to make,” Adam had replied, his annoyance clear even from Ronan’s sightless spot around  the corner of Boyd’s main entrance. “Leave him alone, Gansey. Just because your friends want different things from you doesn’t mean they’re not your friends anymore.”

God, but Ronan loved him.

There had been a long pause filled with Gansey’s chastised silence. This wasn’t solely about Ronan’s choices, and they all knew it.

After that, Gansey’s tactical maneuvers had stopped, but Ronan still hadn’t really spoken to him since dropping out, which was less a hostile decision and more due to Ronan not being in school and refusing to answer his phone. When he left the Barns, it was to spend the night at St. Agnes or go for a long drive with Adam, who knew better than to try to play peacemaker on those occasions.

But now it was Gansey’s birthday, and Blue had summoned them at Nino’s, and apparently would never ever speak to him again if he did not show up. So, whatever, fine. It’s not like Ronan would ever miss Gansey’s birthday anyway. He wasn’t that shitty of a  friend. He just didn’t want any drama.

“I’m just saying he needs to lay off,” he added, defensive.

“Fine,” Adam rolled his eyes. “Now are you gonna stop being a big baby?” he held out his hand for Ronan to take. “We’ve been out here for ages. Let’s go inside, I’m cold.”

“Now who’s being a big baby,” Ronan shot back, but took Adam’s hand anyway. He couldn’t help the little electric thrill that went through him at the sensation of skin on skin. It had been almost a month now since he and Adam had gotten together, since their first kiss on Ronan’s birthday, and he still wasn’t used to the idea of this being offered so casually, like something he could just have. Because he could just have it now.

They walked into Nino’s to see Blue waving at them energetically to signal her position. There was no need for it, of course, because she was sitting at the same booth they always sat in. “God, so dramatic,” Ronan moaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Ain’t that the truth,” Adam commented, his lips tilting into a smirk. Ronan gave his hand a little squeeze.

Blue, satisfied with her flagging-down antics, had sat back down, and now was placidly nestled into Gansey’s side, looking like one of those small angry birds who puff up and tuck their head into their body until they’re perfectly round. On Gansey’s other side, perusing the menu intently as if it didn’t have the same 12 choices as always, was Henry Cheng, his hair looking like an abstract painting and his t-shirt screaming out a Kylie Minogue logo.

And Gansey himself looked… the same as usual, which was to say, it was both impossible to tell and impossible to forget that he had died and been resuscitated in the past month. He also looked anxious. That, Ronan mused, was also usual. He just didn’t usually look anxious about greeting Ronan, and Ronan wasn’t sure he liked that. He chewed on his lip, then gave Gansey a reluctant half smile and hoped it didn’t look like too much of a snarl. Gansey also gave a half smile that looked like a gastritis grimace.

Progress.

“Hey y’all,” Adam greeted. “Hi Blue. Cheng,” he nodded. Then he turned towards Gansey, starting to raise his right fist reflexively; he paused, looked briefly down at where his left hand was joined with Ronan’s, then seemed to make a split-second decision and raised that hand instead, curling his fingers into a fist around Ronan’s, making it so they both fist-bumped Gansey at once. It was embarrassing and looked silly and awkward, but somehow, afterwards, Ronan didn’t feel quite so tentative, and Gansey’s grimace was more and more reminiscent of a smile.

“Very fucking clever,” he muttered in Adam’s ear as they slid into the booth.

“I know, right?” Adam replied with a cheery smile. “I should be a counsellor or something.”

Ronan shoved his shoulder into Adam’s good-naturedly. Adam jostled him right back. Neither let go of the other’s hand.

Immediately, they were pulled into conversation by Blue and required to arbitrate a discussion between her and Henry on whether reality shows were morally bankrupt or a fascinating social experiment. Adam, who had never watched a reality show, sided with Blue out of principle. Gansey, who for very different reasons had also never watched a reality show, was discreetly trying to pull Ronan’s focus with an entreating look; Ronan, warily, let him.

“How have you been, Lynch?” Gansey asked.

Ronan shrugged. “How have you been?”Gansey looked for a moment like he was going to lose his patience. Instead, his face cracked in a different direction, an almost melancholy expression coloring it. “Alright. Adjusting, I suppose. To… everything.”

Everything being “dying and coming back to life as a patchwork tangle of ley line forest”.

“That’s rough, man.” Ronan raised his glass sympathetically, and Gansey tilted his own back.

“You must also be… adjusting. To everything.”

Everything being losing his mother, losing Cabeswater, and almost dying himself.

The undercurrent of things unsaid, hovering just under the surface, was too much; Ronan was going to scream.

But then Gansey did the unexpected.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Ronan choked on his drink a little.

“I shouldn’t have hassled you about school. I just…” Gansey waved a vague hand.

“Think you know better than everyone?” Ronan supplied dryly. Damn, maybe Parrish was rubbing off on him.

Gansey tilted his head. “Perhaps. I made a few bad calls. I, uh. I may have sold Monmouth Manufacturing to get Child to let you stay in school.”

The words were like an ice pick in Ronan’s heart. He felt Adam’s hand tighten around his, despite the fact he was ostensibly still listening to Blue. Adam knew, then. Ronan could only imagine that argument.

“Dick. You did what?”, he rasped. “I never, ever asked you to do anything like that, you colossal fucking-”“I know, I know,” Gansey said, raising a placating hand. “It was stupid. I was maybe not thinking straight. Bit concerned with my own impending death. It’s alright. I managed to buy it back.”

The storm cloud threatening to explode in Ronan’s chest dispelled. Monmouth was safe. Monmouth, with its tall windows and its dusty floors and its walls that held a thousand stories of insomnia and grief and laughter and companionship and fights and friendship. Brotherhood.

“Good,” he said, a little hoarsely. “You love that place.”

“I do,” Gansey admitted wistfully. “It’s just been a little… well. Different. Now that it is just me, I mean. I don’t see you at school, and I don’t see you at ho– at Monmouth. And it’s a big place, and I suppose maybe I was – there is a chance that I perhaps might have been a little afraid of being… well. Lonely. I guess.”

Well. That was a low blow. Or maybe it only felt like one because Ronan had not stopped to think about that and was caught unawares now – but he was gonna go with low blow anyway. It seemed wrong for Gansey – Gansey, of all people – to be lonely. He had always been the one collecting lonely people, the glue holding them all together. Ronan had spent so much time worried about losing Gansey’s friendship, so it was a baffling change of pace for Gansey to miss him.

It made him feel a little bad, but he also knew he was doing the right thing. He needed to be at home right now - his real home, his childhood home, to process everything. And Gansey had other people now – he had Blue and he had Henry, and Ronan had Adam – well, he’d had Adam before, in a manner of speaking, but it was different now. They were both following their own paths. But it didn’t mean Ronan couldn’t be there for him.

“You can still text me, you know,” he said as casually as he could.

Gansey glared at him. “I have been.”“Really?” Ronan said even more casually, scratching at his stubble. He shrugged. “Try again,” he added, more sincerely, holding Gansey’s gaze.

Gansey gave him a small, earnest smile. “I will.”

And just like that, things were okay again. Ronan leaned over the table to give Gansey an amicable punch in the shoulder, but had to raise his right hand, still entwined with Adam’s, to reach forward. It didn’t occur to him that their joined hands were visibly resting above the table until Gansey’s eyes shot down to them and quickly away, his expression doing something complicated but not displeased. He nodded, that little unguarded smile still on his face. Approval, perhaps. Ronan had not asked for it nor did he need it – but it was still nice.

Not as nice as actually getting to hold Adam’s hand though. Now that he’d been reminded of it, he couldn’t stop focusing on it – the warmth, the contact of thumb crossed over thumb, his fingertips brushing over Adam’s still slightly chapped knuckles, the way Adam’s calluses were familiar to him now in a way he’d never expected to know outside of a dream.

Adam – who by this point was wryly arguing with Henry over whether there was even a point to a student council when everyone on it was part of the 1%, to Henry’s impassioned retorts that there are more issues than just classism, Parrish – absently shifted his hand so it was resting palm up on the table, an open invitation, a gentle suggestion to readjust. Ronan followed in kind, resting the back of his hand against Adam’s palm. Adam wrapped his long fingers around the side of Ronan’s palm – Ronan closed his fingers over Adam’s.

He felt warm all over. He took a sip of his iced tea but couldn’t hide the small, private smile playing on his lips, nor could he stop staring at their hands crisscrossed over each other’s on top of the table.

And then he was rudely snapped out of it by Blue’s teasing Awww, cute.

Ronan raised his head slowly, making sure to narrow his eyes menacingly despite the distinct heat he could feel on his cheeks.

Blue was staring at their hands, an unrepentant grin on her face. She met Ronan’s eyes without a trace of concern, taking a big, leisurely gulp of her tea.

“You got somethin’ to say, Sargent?” he asked pleasantly.

“Yeah,” she replied defiantly. “I said you guys are cute.”

This was all new terrain. Ronan had never been teased for being in a relationship, but he’d also never been in a relationship, and hell – he’d all but avoided thinking about the mere idea of a relationship until last year.

Then Adam pressed his leg against Ronan’s under the table, a private show of support, a quiet reminder that it wasn’t Adam and Ronan, but Adam-and-Ronan. It was such a small thing, but it meant so much. Less than a year ago, Ronan had been sitting in this same booth, watching Adam hold hands with Blue and feeling like he’d swallowed his own heart and it was slowly poisoning him from the inside.

And now, it was Adam-and-Ronan.

He tilted his chin haughtily. “Maybe we fucking are, Sargent”.

Blue scrunched up her nose, her expression going from teasing to earnest. “Yeah, you are. It’s nice to see you looking like that for a change.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Cute?”

Blue leaned her chin on her hand. “Happy.”

Oh.

Well, how about that.

Ronan exhaled loudly from his nose and threw himself back against the headrest of the booth; but he also extended a leg under the table so he could knock into Blue’s tiny booted foot. She bumped his boot right back.

At his side, Adam leaned into him lightly, shoulder pressed warmly to shoulder, his head tilted in a way that suggested he might soon be resting it against Ronan’s temple, as he sometimes did when he was tired after a long shift.

Yeah. Ronan supposed that, all considered, he was pretty happy.